Thursday, July 19, 2018

Bible Book Club

We launched a Bible Book Club in Nailsea last night. It's like a normal book club (read a book, get together over a drink and discuss it) except that we use books of the Bible. No faith necessary. No previous Bible reading experience necessary. No church allegiance necessary. No lectures. No context (at first).

My preliminary conversations had led us to believe that it might appeal to:

  • People who liked book groups
  • People who found Bible study notes and reading in ten verse chunks difficult
  • People who liked to meet others for a drink

We decided to start with some stories so six of us got together having read the Book of Ruth (or listened to it as an audio-book in previous days). We agreed that this group needed to understand that there were no right answers. We could all contribute (we did). We had a lively hour chatting about patriarchal cultures, the significance of genealogies, whether Naomi was a devious and manipulative Jewish mama and how to stage 'Ruth - the musical'.

We meet again in the Ring O Bells on Wednesday August 22nd at 8.00 p.m. to look at Esther if you would like to join us.

For anyone wanting to steal the idea we used some generic book group questions to help us:

  • Did you enjoy the book? What part did you like most? What least?
  • Did you engage with any of the characters?
  • Did you follow the plot? What, for you, was the hinge point?
  • If this book was a movie who would you cast?
  • What art work would you put on the cover of the book?
  • Did you have a favourite quote?
  • Would you read other books by this author?
  • What did you think of the length? Too long? Too short?
  • What did you think was the author's purpose?
  • Would you like to read the same story from the point of view of one of the characters?

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Thought for the Day

As delivered at BBC Radio Bristol this morning. One or two changes on delivery to fit in with daily theme and running joke:

Jesus once told a crowd, in Matthew's version of the story, that they should give to the needy in secret. They should not, he added, seek publicity for their good works.

Charity bobble hats. Friends for parents volunteers. Britton's Big Night Out. Three of today's four key stories involve giving in some way.

How do you decide how much to give away? And to whom do you give it?

Those are, of course, entirely your personal decisions.

I had a letter to our church this week from an organisation we used to support. But we've made a conscious, and I think very good, decision, to give more money to fewer causes. So our money really makes a difference. When the Trendlewood Church Council deliberates on these things we are all very much aware that we are giving away other people's money. And the Church itself is a charity, its Council are the Trustees and we have to act wisely and sensibly. But the letter tore at my heart strings. As do the films on Sports Relief, Comic Relief and Children in Need days.

As someone who feels guilty walking past the Big Issue seller I am not unaware of the issues.

A wise mentor, many years ago, suggested to me that we should all live off 90% of what we earn and give the rest away. If you start early then all you do is take only 90% of every pay rise.

The Bible suggests we should give joyfully. I once read that a better translation of the Greek word there would be 'hilariously'.

So my thought. Hang light to money. Use it to bless others if you can. And try not to show off about it.

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

A Story, Some Biography and a Life Lesson

The great Frank Knowles of Walter Halls School, Mapperley may have had more than one assembly in him (he was Head-Teacher) but I only heard him do two assemblies ever and he used this story both times.

A man was being driven out of his mind by his family. They all lived together in one room, the man, his wife and their four daughters.

Driven to desperation he went to see the village wise man and asked what he could do to get some peace. After a few minutes deliberation and scratching of imaginary beard, the guru said, 'You should get a puppy.'

So the man got a puppy, but two weeks later he was back at the door of wisdom complaining that the children now chased the puppy, and the puppy messed on the floor, plus it need two walks a day and everyone else in the house refused to do it since he had got the puppy. Things were worse not better.

'The puppy needs its own companion' said the source of all knowledge. 'Get a cat'.

Result. Kids chase dog, dog chases cat, dog eats cat food, gets fat needs more walks. Man exhausted.

Now Frank could expand this story to fill the time available until Lesson 1, adding goats, lambs, cows, small furry animals and a mother-in-law. We cut to the chase.

Man, covered in animal hair and dung and with bruises from mother-in-law's broom (it was the 1980s - be gentle with him)  goes to tell the wisdom-dispenser that he is rubbish and is fired.

As he leaves he hears a final apology, 'I was wrong. Get rid of  .'

The man does so and two weeks later he is at the door again dispensing his own wisdom. 'Whatever made you think that all those extra creatures in my house would give me peace. They've all gone now and it is wonderfully quiet. I can hear people speak, the children are playing nicely together in the corner. My wife has time to make tea even more delicious than before and the girls help her.'

Well when our friends who were doing 'Women's Studies' at Nottingham University had finished with Frank and the bruises were healed he played Joni Mitchell's Big Yellow Taxi  and we all reflected on not knowing what we got til it's gone.

So. I was a busy clergyman and became Assistant Rural Dean, then Acting Rural Dean without the admin support the previous Rural Dean had enjoyed and without an Assistant Rural Dean because the old Assistant had got himself promoted in mysterious circumstances. Then the water system played up and we regularly, for six weeks, couldn't get a shower (at no notice) and Diesel the dog came to stay and got himself lame. Yet today the fault with the water system has been identified at last (I did that with a Saturday afternoon's curious experimentation. Dead proud. The engineer now calls me Inspector Clouseau) and is being fixed, the dog is better and is going home, I have found some administrative support from an unexpected source and I have a new colleague who is competent, self-starting and looking for jobs. Paradise will be unpaved as soon as the drilling noise stops.

Tuesday, July 03, 2018

Thought for the Day

As delivered at BBC Radio Bristol this morning:

Jesus once had a weird conversation with a Samaritan woman. It started being about water - he was thirsty - but it ended being about faith. Jesus described himself as living water. You can get a different sort of drink from him. He will refresh you in a way other spiritual teachers cannot.

Well what kind of a guru are you anyway, she didn't say as Jesus continued to freak her out by knowing things about her family background that he couldn't have known by normal means. Not an everyday Messiah, is the Bible's point.

So. A few weeks into hot dry weather and we start talking hosepipe bans and shortages, although it's reassuring to learn we are not at that point yet.

I've just come back from a holiday on a hot island where it doesn't usually rain from March to September. The weather is predictable and, as the saying goes, scorchio.

Of course on hot Mediterranean islands they are content to live with the earth turning brown and dry in the summer. Irrigation is saved for crops. Lawns are not watered. Cars have a healthy covering of dust. The sparrows drink from the swimming pools, when nobody is looking.

Water is a scarce commodity. We live in a land where it sometimes comes in floods and torrents and sometimes doesn't come at all but most times it just comes out of the tap. Our varied climate makes our people resourceful and adaptable. It may be a key to creativity. It also makes us mad when it's missing as we assert our apparent god-given right to water our gardens and clean our cars.

So take a moment to savour a glass of water today. And gaze into the heart of one who can deal with a deeper thirst.

Tuesday, June 26, 2018

Wave Pictures at The Fleece

Ever since Junior told me I'd enjoy this lot I've been mugging up. Seemed like perfectly acceptable country/rock/blues for a Monday evening out, but I had low expectations.

Wow! I had to search for the exclamation mark on the keyboard I use it so rarely.

Learning new music live is a wonderful business. And so support act 1 - Vinegar get filed under 'interesting; look out for more' and support act 2 Snails can crawl slowly away.

Interesting observation from Junior. 'The bassist is too good for Snails (she was very good). If they had a rubbish bassist at least we'd applaud them all for having a go.'

And so to Wave Pictures. Los Lobos meet Dire Straits at a blues fest in honour of The Modern Lovers.

I want to applaud an excellent gig-by-numbers. This is how to do it:

Open with a big song. Either the best new one or a strong back catalogue number.

Introduce any other new songs in the first half of the set. This is also the place for audience banter. Sample banter:

Front-man: I wrote this next song during Blue Planet. I hate it but if I watch it with my girlfriend then she will watch The Big Bang Theory. I don't understand why everyone likes David Attenborough.

Audience: (Murmur of disapproval)

Front-man: See. Everyone likes David Attenborough. Do you all like him?

Audience: (Cheers)

Front-man: The best place for an animal is on the end of my fork.

Audience: (Louder murmur of disapproval)

Front-man: Thing is, that was a quote from Quentin Crisp. So you're really booing me for being well read.

At about the half way stage leave shorter gaps between songs, stack up the well-known crowd favourites, tell everyone when the last one is about to happen and do two encore songs without going off between them and then go home.

Brief nod of respect to the sound crew who made the vocal mix for Wave Pictures clear enough for us to be able to sing along to tunes we had never heard before, by the time of the second chorus.

Singer/guitarist David Tattersall is quite a virtuoso - he channelled Mark Knoepfler and David Gilmour but his style is also very much his own. Franic Rozycki played a couple of lead lines on bass with some aplomb and drummer Jonny Helm was joined by a guest (and permanently grinning) percussionist who added much.

There's a gig on YouTube but it doesn't beat seeing them. Oxford tonight if you hurry.

Holiday Reading

Here is a my annual service for those for whom the words 'activity' and 'holiday' belong not on the same sun-lounger. Scores represent the holiday escapism factor and nothing necessarily to do with literary merit. Slightly light list this year due to presence of other members of the family week one and football week two.

Lee Child - Trip Wire (6/10)
It all began back on June 7th and finishing the last 100 pages of a Jack Reacher thriller whilst waiting for a plane. Given there are several more books in the series beyond this one you will deduce that our hero wins again. Not without being shot in the chest though. Not easy this lone-wolf crime-fighting stuff.

John Le Carré - A Legacy of Spies (5/10)
The usual slow-paced, developing narrative as a former intelligence officer is invited back for a chat about an operation many years ago that may have been a bit more, or possibly less, than described at the time. Someone in government has the papers and wants to see heads roll. A spy's career is never behind them. Just a bit too slow for me and the end didn't satisfy. But if you've read le Carré you'll know what to expect.

Michael J. Malone - House of Spines (7/10)
Spine-tingling ain't really my bag (must read a Stephen King some day) but this caught my eye as a cross-dressing narrative. Starts with 'guy inherits possibly haunted house' premise but does some wonderful things with the idea. The 'spines' of the title are the book jackets of the house's library. The super-natural is a girl who likes listening to stories. Then there are some people who think the inheritance is flawed. Nicely done.

Jon McGregor - Reservoir 13 (9/10)
I do seem to have filled my bag with slow-paced narratives this trip. But if you need to take your time on a journey then McGregor is great company. Never a word out of place and an ability to describe things we don't normally see - the spaces between people, the seasons changing in the background, the relentless cycle of village life. A girl goes missing. Time passes slowly. I note the Broadchurchy subtext that your sins will find you out. An investigation into a big crime often uncovers some smaller ones along the way.

Lisa McInerney - The Glorious Heresies (7/10)
What a yarn. Felt like I was discovering the missing connections between Father Ted, East Enders and Breaking Bad. Great characters. Mainly perfectly horrid so who do you root for?

Daniel Kehlmann - F (A Novel) (7/10)
Translated from German this story explores Arthur who has a life-changing experience after reluctantly going on stage for a hypnotist. We mainly see the world through his sons who grow up to be an art-forger, a dodgy financier and a fat unconvincing priest.

Fate, forger, fiddler and faithless. Whose fault is it all? And which is the 'F' of the title?

After this I started Jim Crace's Arcardia, which I know will be good because it 's Jim Crace. In between I read chapters from Tim Harford's Messy but haven't finished yet. However I know now why Le Corbusier's innovative clean architecture wasn't popular with the workers it was built for and why they put gnomes in their gardens. Also, why CPAS's clean-desk policy was a knife in the side of creativity. More on this later.

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Traffic Jams

We have been paying some attention, whilst holidaying here in lovely Gozo, to the many and various ways the M5 south through Somerset can find to get itself closed. Caravans overturn weekly throughout the summer but there do seem to have been some vehicle fires and load spillages adding to what we call normal in the south-west. This allows the rest of the country to describe it as holiday chaos even more readily than usual.

I have often joked about Gozitan drivers. What does a give-way sign mean? Nothing. What should you conclude if a vehicle is indicating right? Nothing. What does a pedestrian crossing signify? Nothing. How big a gap can a tower crane driver negotiate in the rush hour? 0.001mm as long as you pull your wing mirrors in quickly. In effect that means less than nothing until you increase it.

You don't let vehicles out, they barge in. The person who chickens should not offer a friendly wave but a resignation of defeat.

So, from time to time (and I am pretty brave now) I stop for another car to come through a gap only to be overtaken by a vehicle behind me unprepared to wait and then taking six times as long to pass the other car as it would have taken my car using my scheme.

On Monday the ultimate consequence of this took place. Our rented farmhouse is at the residential end of a narrow street and the road winds on down behind us in a single track with sharp bends and passing places. We were sitting by the pool reading when the level of noise from the street outside grew steadily. After a while we took to the flat roof (a common feature in such properties) to observe. There were two queues of traffic stretching for 400 yards in both directions and in the middle two vehicles bonnet to bonnet, almost touching. Alongside one of these two was a taxi, pulled in to the side of the road.

We surmise that the taxi had pulled over (and if a taxi driver chickens here you know there is a reason, they never blink) and the vehicle behind had overtaken only to be confronted by another car head on with no room to pass. None of the vehicles who arrived at the developing queue, clearly visible from Space after a while, left any space for others to reverse or manoeuvre. After a few minutes people were on their phones calling friends and telling them to avoid the scene.

In the midst of this George, a local taxi driver we know, shouted from the road that he was here to take us to the ferry. Our reply 'We're here another week' was probably taken as a comment on the likelihood of a car ever getting away rather than the truth that he was here a week early.

And then, after much gesticulating and shouting (no violence here) someone found a spare millimetre and one line of traffic made it past the other and within five minutes all was quiet and still once again. We later discovered that the road had been closed in one direction during this time apart from access for residents and businesses but every car had decided it was there to 'render a service' and had ignored the restriction.

Nailsea car-parking is a breeze folks. A breeze.

Monday, June 04, 2018

Thought for the Day

As delivered this morning (I was an emergency replacement) at BBC Radio Bristol's Breakfast with Emma Britton:

For a few years in a previous life I made a decent living re-writing organisations' publicity material into plain English. It struck me as amazing how few people ever asked someone from outside to do this. More than one person told me that there was no way I could ever understand their organisation because I was an outsider. After a while I smiled sweetly (I can do that with a run up) and asked 'So what chance have your customers got then?' Well it got me some work (beat) plus a few new enemies.

Yesterday, tapping into my previous life-skills, I drew a time-line on the wall of our church meeting room using a long strip of lining paper. And in five minutes I did the whole 2000 year back story of Jesus from Abraham to Bethlehem.

More than a few people told me they had understood something for the first time. Why? Because it was simple and visual.

Fact is everyone, and the church may be one of the worst offenders, ends up with a bit of insider language to use as a short cut - radio studios, the medical profession, TV shows, even auction houses and clock decorators. We all use fancy language which only insiders understand.

Yet when a problem comes along like an unpaid debt our language gets very simple - pay me what you owe. Kids get this. Number one child complaint in the whole world (all together now) 'It's not fair.'

So pay what you owe, figure out Jesus and try to be fair. Pretty basic thought for the day. Also (as someone once said):

Don't use a big word when a singularly unloquacious and diminutive linguistic expression will satisfactorily accomplish the contemporary necessity.

And having made it through that much-rehearsed final sentence I raised both hands in the air (which doesn't really work on the radio) and headed to the gym.

Saturday, June 02, 2018

A Parable for our Times

There can be fewer more satisfying feelings in the world than pulling up alongside a car at traffic lights - that car which overtook you back down the road travelling at excessive speed. One of the few occasions in life when being compared to a tortoise is satisfactory.

Hold that thought.

I have little time for mindless, unnecessary retail. I carry on with semi-defective items much loved and unreplaced - old pants, worn-out kitchen utensils and functional but dated gadgets keep me company. Bear in mind however that I have been married to unnecessary retail for some years now and it has kept the door lupine free and the table bread-covered. But no-one else could have kept her and their sanity so long. I see her as a sort of rescue-wife. The intention is that she reads that paragraph and laughs. If you see me again it went well.

Two years or so ago I was given a gift of a new peg bag. No catch in the title: it's a bag to hold pegs. Observing the way I pegged the old bag to the line and then spun the line round (it is a rotary one; I am not stupid) TCMT purchased from the shop at which she works a new peg bag which saved labour by hanging round my neck. It caused the local observers much amusement and this picture was taken. I was, and remain, unamused. Having developed a way of doing things I approach labour-saving devices the way Mrs Doyle approaches a Teasmade.

Still, not wishing to cause offence... no that's wrong. Wishing to cause offence but deciding not to, I started using the new bag. About this time my wooden pegs were replaced with some natty plastic ones. Those seabirds ain't gonna kill themselves. As you do I put all the wooden pegs and the old bag in my box of things that may one day become a youthwork activity. It did.

This week the new peg bag was taken back to the shop to be replaced because it is defective and the strap has broken three times in two years. I had stapled it back together each time because THAT IS WHAT I DO! But I am told it must go back. The shop in question will replace it because they do that sort of thing to keep customers whose average age ensures they will die before needing a second replacement. Bag for life? Sounds like a fair swap.

So, I discovered all my new pegs had been put in a 5p, plastic bag. I suppose it was intended to be used in some way as a temporary replacement but it wouldn't peg to the line properly. So I have replaced the replacement with a pleasant, if a little faded, peg-bag from my youth work resources box. And I am as smug as a fully working smug metaphor. And I am sitting in my car at the traffic lights waiting for the new Pegbag gti turbo to challenge me and old faithful to another race.

It's a lovely day in North Somerset and the washing is dry.

Thursday, May 31, 2018

Ian Dury, Woke up this Morning and a Bit of Bad Language

I don't know why I woke up with Ian Dury on my mind yesterday. I was searching for a lyric, I think.

For those who are too young, Ian Dury and The Blockheads had some success in the late 1970s and early 1980s with some cracking singles such as Hit Me with your Rhythm Stick, Reasons to be Cheerful Part lll (that 'Part lll' in itself a tease that you had missed parts l and ll, which you hadn't) and Wot a Waste. His lyrics had a certain nursery rhyme quality, albeit rhymes you would not want your children to learn before their teenage years. His backing band included the extremely talented Chas Jankel on keys and guitar, and the best bass player I have ever heard live (and I heard Leo Lyons, Jaco Pastorius, Tony Levin and The Ox), Norman Watt-Roy.

Behind all this was an unavailable at first (in this country) tune called Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll. Dury's first album only began with that track if you bought a US pressing—which I did, of course, what do your take me for? It was a classic album for not playing to the fine and upstanding members of the Christian community we regularly entertained. Randomly, one of the tunes began with 'Bollocks, arseholes, f******* c**** and pricks.' We always turned it off before answering the door.

I hope you are OK with the words I chose not  to bleep. I was talking to someone the other day who was upset at the amount of times Bishop Michael Curry blasphemed in an interview about 'that' sermon. So I expect some will be disappointed. But  this is me so don't take it too hard.

I couldn't recall the lyric I was seeking but improvised a snatch of the type of poetry it might be, my tribute if you like:

I went on quite a bender
With a barmaid name of Brenda
She turned out pretty handy
With a pint of larger shandy

Which helped me pin down the tune - Billericay Dicky. And the actual lyric:

I bought a lot of brandy
When I was courting Sandy
Took eight to make her randy
And all I had was shandy

Down with this sort of thing? In the world and not of it? Never really found the time to be offended by swearing? You?

Thanks for your time.

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Thought for the Day

On the 30th anniversary of the demolition of Canons Marsh Warehouses (now the harbourside site of Lloyds Bank) this thought occurred to me and was delivered at BBC Radio Bristol's Breakfast show:

No-one, said Jesus, puts new wine in old wine skins. The skins will just burst. No-one, said Jesus puts a patch of new cloth on an old garment, When you wash it the patch will shrink more then the old cloth and make another, bigger tear.

He was talking about the newness of his teaching. It didn't fit well with the old way of doing things.

There's a wonderful exhibition at the M-Shed at the moment of seven decades of Bristol music. I went on Saturday. It's amazing how the very new seems so different to the sounds of the 1950s and yet decade by decade the music changes subtly, gradually.

Likewise the skyline of a city. Old harbourside wharfs are converted into museums or bars. People probably lamented the end of the Canons Marsh warehouses thirty years ago, but the Bristol Harbourside today is a vibrant place - a mixture of old and new. I love wandering around it.

And so a city develops with the old and new side by side. Old trades in old buildings, new trades in old buildings and both old and new trades also in sweepingly modern buildings. The old trade of banking now stands in a new building where Canons Marsh warehouses stood. The waterfront next to it also provides an arena venue for outdoor gigs in the summer. And a haven for skateboarders.

Cities are busy places, bustling and on the move. They are never one thing for very long. Always changing.

The old, old teachings of Jesus and his wonderful illustrations still make their way in the modern market. He amazed crowds then with a timeless message of love for the individual whether they find themselves in old or new buildings. Still does.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Journalism in a Post-Truth Society

As part of the Bath Festival I went to an interesting discussion on Tuesday, titled as above. It roamed a little freer than I would have liked so I think I will capture the atmosphere better with some quotations, scrawled as hastily as I could.

Julian Baggini is an author and popular philosopher (by which I mean he writes philosophy for an untrained reader). Good places to start include The Pig That Wants to be Eaten, Welcome to Everytown or Do They Think You're Stupid? He said:

‘People didn’t vote for Trump because he was telling the truth. They think all politicians are liars but he’s ‘our liar’.’

‘People don’t think Boris Johnson is great but he has managed to appear genuine - as have Farage and Corbyn (who has held the same views for 40 years).’

‘Philanthropy may come to the aid of local journalism. It may be the only hope.’

Heather Brooke is a Professor of Journalism at London City University. She said:

‘People have not had the journalistic training to assess the truths on the internet. But you could do a one day course in how to spot bullshit.’

‘We are seeing the consequence of the lack of local journalism - it may have caught Grenfell early.’

‘Local journalism holds power to account at a quite detailed and forensic level.’

James Ball, journalist and author, was the chair and also the most engaging speaker. He had to shut himself up a lot ('I'm meant to be the chair') but I wished he had said more:

‘In focus groups people say they want more foreign news and less celebrity. But if you do that, sales plummet.’

‘Newspapers need to make an assumption now that their intelligent, millennial readers are renting their accommodation.’

‘People go to fact-check sites to check stories they don’t want to believe.’

Stephen Bush, who  writes for the New Statesman - a centre-left publication - and occasional columns in broadsheets, wasalso there. I had looked forward to hearing him but he seemed a little disinterested on the day and  was following something on his phone to begin with.

The whole discussion was full of general agreement that we are where we are and we will have to see how things pan out. It felt pessimistic. The public debate is populated by people who have no rules of enagagement. Naturally they were all protective of journalists although it is clear they meant 'jouirnalists like us'. Apart from the insights about the local press I wasn't taken a huge way on in my thinking but it was an interesting snapshot.

Monday, May 21, 2018

Wedding Sermons - a Pondering

Much has been said about Bishop Michael Curry's sermon at Saturday's wedding of those we now know as the Duke and Duchess of Sussex. If you haven't heard it yet listen here. But I recommend reading the text here and then listening to the delivery second.

Afterwards there was an outbreak of corporate shock. One tweet summarises the response. Ed Miliband (@Ed_Miliband) said this: 'Rev Michael Curry could almost make me a believer'. A man from a Jewish family background but currently operating as a person of no faith, acknowledges, OK tongue-in-cheek,  that passion gets your argument quite a long way.

I think we are at an interesting hinge-point in our nation's history. If you check the sermon text you will find nothing very surprising. There were no references that may not have been used by many other clergy preaching at weddings that day. I've used some of them myself.

What was surprising was the passion, the energy, the vehemence of the delivery style.

If occurs to me that people are fed up of cerebral leadership. They don't want to hear what is right, rigorously argued; they want to hear someone lead them with power, charisma and drive.

Now this can go two ways. A people crying out for dynamic, strong, passionate, emotional, charismatic leadership might get a Nelson and might get an Adolph. They sure got a Donald.

The day to day of small-scale and large-scale political life is detailed, complex and can be mind-numbingly dull. We need people who can do the dull and yet can also passionately envision.

Passion did Brexit. It is hard to argue for the status quo (however good it is) passionately. We need to watch out for where passion takes us next.

Dead Dirty - A Poem for Pentecost

And another poem I wrote a couple of years ago but have never used, published or performed:

Dead dirty

Before the water you are thirsty
You are thirsty
As you approach the baptist you are thirsty
Your thirst to be quenched if you drink

As a sign of trusting the saviour you trust the baptist
To give you safe water
And refresh you
If you don't you stay parched

Before the water you are dirty
You are dirty
As you approach the baptist you are dirty
You will only be clean if he washes you

As a sign of trusting the saviour you trust the baptist
To wash you
And make you clean
And if you don't you stay dirty

Underwater you are dead
You are dead
As the baptist holds you under the water you are dead
You will only live if he releases you.

As a sign of trusting the saviour you trust the baptist
To let you go
And release you back into the wild.
And if he doesn't you are dead

Thirsty, dirty and dead

The English Revolution

Wrote this last week. I was waiting in the car having arrived early for an appointment. A sample from the Disposable Heroes 'Television' came on BBC 6 Music and I mistakenly started humming 'The Revolution Will not be Televised'. In fact that is a Gil Scott-Heron tune. But somehow it got me thinking that in this day and age the revolution, indeed any revolution, probably will be televised and thus this:

The English Revolution 

The Revolution will be televised 
The Revolution will be live-streamed and podcast
The Revolution should be bookmarked - visit 
The Revolution will be reported 
The Revolution will be commented upon and analysed 
The Revolution in pictures will be on pages 3-17 
The Revolution will be written up and sold back to you in 24 weekly instalments
(buy issue 1 get issue 2 absolutely free)
The Revolution is now available in paperback but eventually
The Revolution will be discounted on Amazon

How was the Revolution for you? 
The Revolution will be seeking feedback
Could you hear?
Were you warm enough?
Did you spend any money on the T-shirt?
If we did another revolution would a different day of the week be more convenient?
Would you like a revolution in your area?
Please state preferred method of dictator overthrow or tyrant assassination
Can you think of other people in your locality who might enjoy a revolution?

The Revolution fails to understand that the English public do not require permission to give feedback:

Dear Sir,

I hope that no tax-payers money was spent on the Revolution. I will not condone this until my green bin is consistently emptied on the correct day

Dear Editor,

I was appalled and shocked to discover that the Revolution was delivered with so little publicity. I was unable to participate due to a long-planned visit from my in-laws. Please would you make sure that more notice is given for the next one.

Yours faithfully

The Revolution will be delivered by properly-trained individuals
The Revolution will be high vis and EU compliant
The Revolution will use up-to-date energy-saving technology and is now going on stand-by
The Revolution will be an equal opportunities malevolent force
The Revolution will be seeking membership from under-represented communities
The Revolution currently needs applicants for whom Revolution is a second-language
The Revolution will not use your data without your express consent

The Revolution will be harmonised and institutionalised
The Revolution will be cost effective
The Revolution will be using SMART goals

The Revolution will be fat free and low cal
Gluten free revolutions will also be available
Once opened the Revolution should be stored in a cool, dry place and used within three days
The Revolution must not be diluted under any circumstances
The Revolution may contain nuts

Monday, May 14, 2018

Thought for the Day

As delivered to BBC Radio Bristol this morning:

'What is this?' said people of Jesus as recorded in the Bible. 'He teaches with such authority.' No matter what you make of the authenticity of the Bible stories there can be no doubt that a picture is painted of Jesus the leader; able to persuade people to follow him. Some left everything to do so.

How do you know if you're a leader? There are many ways. It may say so on your office door. Or in your job description. You could wear the captain's armband.

My favourite answer to that question is - look around and see if anyone is following you.

I don't particularly enjoy leadership. But I hate a leadership vacuum even more. If I'm in a group of people trying to do a job and nobody is being in charge I will, pretty rapidly, become in charge. The sorts of people who become clergy are often comfortable being in charge of projects and meetings.

A group of my friends with whom I used to co-lead once admitted that they often deliberately mucked around to see how long it would be before I took charge.

A friend I co-lead with, and trust absolutely, is happy with our joint leadership statement to our team - whoever appears to be in charge, is.

So I chuckled at the story of the Portishead annual residents' meeting that ended after six minutes because the authority of the person in the chair was not recognised.

It's tough this leadership thing. Are you in charge of stuff? How's it working out? May I commend servant leadership as the Jesus method. It involves juggling being in front, alongside and behind clearing up at various times. Let me know how it goes.

Friday, May 11, 2018

The Bible and History

What do vicars do for fun on their day off? Well I can't speak for the rest but I find baiting the conservative evangelical world a nice pastime. Good morning.

A few years ago I was commissioned by a leading evangelical Christian home mission agency (narrowed down enough?)  to write a long piece on the Bible and history. I wrote it. You can read it here.

If it is too long for you there is a shorter, punchier version here.

The piece was rejected. The line in the rejection letter which stuck with me was, as close as I can recall - We don't think most Christians get out of bed in the morning thinking about issues of historicity.  I responded not by saying they were wrong but that they were right and the article would show people why they should (get out of bed with historicity on their mind and with apologies to Rory Gallagher for whom the problem was bullfrogs).

It was unpublished but they still paid me as I had done what they asked. I imagine the guy who actually commissioned the piece is still in the dungeons. All evangelical home mission agencies have dungeons don't they? During my short career as a writer I can recall three occasions when I was well paid for pieces that were not used.

Why am I telling you this? So, if you heard Today on BBC Radio 4 this morning you will have heard an expert (yes, we still have them) talking about the mismatch between the archaeological evidence and the written tradition in the life of Kings David and Solomon (there is a gap in archaeology between roughly 1000BCE and 800BCE.

Challenged as to whether this presented problems for the readers of the Hebrew Bible he responded that it depended on your approach to biblical interpretation.

So  my intuition was correct. BBC Radio 4 Today is helping more people to get out of bed with historicity on their mind. As well they should. The Hebrew ancient literature is both a national document of self-criticism (Jonathan Sacks) and (if misinterpreted) a theology of land-grabbing (me).

So, with tentativity, here is my course for those wanting to allow the possibility that we can learn about God without having to swallow whales:

The Liberal Evangelical Lectures - The Omega Course

  • Why everything you thought you knew about Christianity is wrong.
  • It's more about what you do than what you believe. If you're not improving the world stop claiming to be a Christian. Creeds should be about making a difference now.
  • There is no dotted line to sign on. There is water not to get too far from.
  • Jesus probably had a real Dad. The New Testament speaks of the seed of David as much as born of a virgin.
  • You can make church what you want it to be as long as it is gathering.
  • Booklist: A new kind of Christian, Love wins, The Case for God, Unapologetic.
  • There never was a garden but anyway, snakes can't hear. The devil ain't all that real but sin is. For many people hell is now.
  • The more I study the Bible the more liberal I become.
  • You can sleep with whomsoever you want except...
  • If you want to know what God's like look at Jesus.
  • Jonah was a story; Job was a play, Noah was a mythos. Some Bible stories are more than true.

This is not a complete course specification.

Like it? How can we make it happen?

Don't like it? Your consolation prize is Rory Gallagher singing Bullfrog Blues live.

Friday, May 04, 2018


Sometime around 1990/91 Gareth Owen, a neighbour and young friend, was the first person ever to say to me 'May the Fourth be with you.' I remember it. It was hilarious.

After a while this became a good greeting and then after another while (say twenty years) people began to wish each other a happy Star Wars Day, having fun noting who didn't understand.

Today several people, without irony or attribution, have said 'May the Fourth be with you.' I think they have expected me to laugh. I honestly have no idea why.

They are closely related to the sorts of people, who wear comedy ties - I know a joke and I'm going to tell it all day (children's hospital surgeons are excluded from this group - they have other, more laudable, reasons).

The secret of good comedy is timing. A forty year old somebody-else's-joke is bad timing. Very bad. Stop it.

Friday, April 20, 2018


TYA 1971 Tour Front Cover
I very much enjoyed last night's gig by guitarist/singer/song-writer Keith Christmas at Nailsea's Ring of Bells pub. The slightly weird bit of the whole experience was this:

I went to a number of 'variety show' gigs with my parents in the 1960s and also saw some bands in the days when they were guests on pantomimes. I can tick off Herman's Hermits, The Bachelors. The Searchers, Freddie and the Dreamers, The Barron Knights and Gerry and the Pacemakers. But these were two or three song gigs with comedians as headline.

Exploring my own taste in music from about 1969/70 onwards I got over-interested in Ten Years After and in autumn 1971 they were my first solo gig, at Birmingham Town Hall. These days I do not buy concert programmes (I worked out they were a rip-off quite quickly), but to begin with I would buy a programme and place it, for safe-keeping, in the sleeve of the album being promoted on that tour. Another use of a vinyl album. So I still have it.

The 1971 line up
The opening act I saw at that first gig was a young solo artist of whom I had not heard. Yeah, Keith Christmas. He was able to command the stage, as I recall, and his acoustic guitar playing was a bit good (although some of you will know I am not a guitarist). A lot of the audience remained in the bar.

I spent a large part of last night pondering on where our journeys had taken us since then. Keith had played with Bowie, opened up for many major bands and recorded much fine music. He describes his career as coming to an end but also seems to have become a prolific song-writer later in life. Some of his new material was outstanding. He has also had two sons and now lives in Torquay. I guess that if, in 1971, you would have told him he would eventually wind down his career playing to 25 people in Nailsea he would have been a bit disappointed, although he genuinely seemed to love the appreciative audience (I knew most of them from the local music scene). Did I ever tell you I had turned down an invitation to play keys in a Wurzels tribute band? Fact.
The autograph

But not half as surprised as 16 year old me would have been to be told that he would end up here as a vicar. Our journeys have been different but it was great to say hello to part of my past.  He has signed my tour programme. Look what he wrote.

Guitarists might like to know that Keith uses a rare B tuning of his own making from time to time. Some of the guitarists in the room seemed to be weeping at the sheer variety of picking techniques Keith used. Lost on me but I pass it on.

I try to go to as many local music events as possible and get to know the people. I have even dared perform at the Folk Club from time to time. There aren't many opportunities for the vicar to walk into a room full of men outside church circles. I love it.

One guy (hi Rob) told me he always enjoyed hearing me on the radio and when I told him I had been on that morning he said he would go home and listen to it on iplayer. 'I'm that sad' he added, with a wink.

Keith Christmas April 2018 
From time to time I have an experience that screams at me. Look where I brought you from. Look where I put you. What you going to do about it?

Thanks Keith, for the memory jog, the great performance and the reminder of the journey.

Health warning. UKIP members probably wouldn't enjoy his politics. 'I'm a bit of a leftie even for a folk singer'.

He once had to break it to the members of Chicken Shack that Stan Webb had gone home from a tour of Germany during the night after a telephone row with his wife. He told the story as his encore.

Thursday, April 19, 2018

Thought for the Day

Lovely to meet Winstone this morning at the BBC Radio Bristol studio. He came to the UK aged 18 months in 1966 but has had trouble 'proving' his right to be here. He shared his story to encourage others, who may be in a similar position, to speak up and help the authorities understand the scale of the problem. It linked nicely into what I wanted to say:

What's your name and where d'you come from?

I find a great feeling of sadness in me that the Windrush generation of West Indian immigrants should be put through hardship after many years making this their home. Somewhere along the way this country seems to have embraced a jobsworth approach to compassion. Not good enough.

I have an old book I was given many years ago. In it I have written:

James Stephen Tilley, 107 Oakfield Road, Selly Park, Birmingham 29, England, British isles, Europe, Northern Hemisphere, The World, Near the Moon, The Universe, Space, Near more space.

Forgive my inadequate childish astronomy but I also note a quote afterwards from the late Anthony Buckeridge:

If this book should chance to roam
Box its ears and send it home

But the answer to the question of home and origin can be complex. As long as my book is on the earth it is somehow home. Since this land was unpopulated in the last Ice Age all our families have moved here. Some even walked.

So I love the thought my Christian heritage gives me, from one of Paul's New Testament letters, that wherever I find myself, and whatever happens to me, my citizenship is in heaven. It is about my destination not my departure.

It was the answer Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury, gave to questioners when he discovered that the man he thought was his father was not. 'I know that I find who I am in Jesus Christ, not in genetics, and my identity in him never changes... ' he said.

Cilla Black's Blind Date question 'What's your name and where d'you come from?' occupied our Saturday nights for many years. Turns out; the answer can be quite complicated.

Who are you?

Friday, April 13, 2018

It's the Little Things

Over the years of ministerial set-backs I have never been bothered by apparent discouragements in the big things. Big things are hard to do. They should be. People will have objections, clarifications or improvements. And that is all fine. In fact it is better than fine; it is the way things should be. It should be hard to re-order an old building, plant a new church or run a massive community festival. I wouldn't take any satisfaction in having been part of those three things in the last few years if they had been easy.

But some things are easy. And if it gets hard to do easy things then life can be grim.

A tale.

Over the years of my Christian service I have developed some aptitude in folding up and stacking tables. I am familiar with most mechanisms and even vaguely enjoy encountering a new one. The type of table you find in many church halls is pictured left. Buy them from Gopak if you need some more.

Now I well remember the day when I was struggling to rotate a particularly tough hinge; an old guy took me on one side and asked me if I wanted to know a secret. It was the twinkle in his eye that got me.

He proceeded to do a 'watch and learn son' on me. He stood the table up on its end and placed one foot on the bar I was trying to move, pressing down to disengage it. He then angled the table slightly towards him. When he returned the table to the vertical the legs had begun to fold. He closed them, turned the table through 180⁰ and repeated the process. Job done.

Ever since then I have used this method and have enjoyed liberating others by showing it to them when they were struggling. Everyone has seemingly been as pleased as me when hearing of such labour-saving. Until this week.

I showed someone and got the reply 'That doesn't work for me.' No further discussion was encouraged. I was sad because it either showed a particularly stubborn streak or an unwillingness to learn. I really wanted to know why. Had it been tried and found wanting? Was there some flaw in my scheme about which I was ignorant? (Training cuts both ways.) I sought clarification with a smile but none was forthcoming.

I let it go. No point in forcing the matter. But behind my back I heard another person say to the person who had just refused my advice - 'You should have just said 'Yes' and ignored him.' Was I mansplaining? I am a man and on this occasion it was a woman I was trying to help. Maybe it wasn't what I said but the way I said it. That's happened before.

It is a new level of parish audit for me. I have always used this one:

It will take you ten times as long to improve a church as it does to improve the coffee

My level two statement is now:

Before you train a congregation in evangelism try training them in table-stacking

Usual fee?

Thursday, April 05, 2018

Engaging Online

Bit of an essay this morning so grab a coffee.

Some people shy away from conflict; others embrace it. Some, having embraced it, throw themselves in all guns blazing and quickly escalate the emotional level to potential violence. So in a queue for chips after pub closing time you will normally find me being polite and showing deference, verging on getting the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

There is rarely a right time to talk to people who tend to escalate the emotional level quickly. It helps to be out of the crowd, sober, sitting down and showing hospitality. Or being vulnerable enough to go into their space (the home visit).

I quite enjoy talking people down and have had some success at it over the years. I commend eight years in a customer service environment as better pre-ordination training than a counselling course (although you may find counselling courses a help if you wish to become a counsellor). My time as an insurance claims handler was invaluable. Our job was to help people who had had a bad experience.

I didn't realise how ingrained this was until my time at the Church Pastoral Aid Society (CPAS) when an angry woman demanded to speak to someone's manager and I was the nearest thing we had to that at the time. We were in an open plan office and so my colleagues heard me talk to the woman for some minutes, bring her down, rein her in and sell her some useful books. I got a round of applause.

Sorry about the long, smug introduction, but you need to know those things. You see on social media - which I continue to assert is simply hanging out where people hang out - some of the signs and opportunities are missing. All sorts of people can leap into the middle of a conversation and hijack it. I think we are still working out the cues and prompts of the etiquette and from time to time it gets tricky. I think this is why some people choose not to get involved. You can't tell who is drunk, who is already angry for some other reason and who likes winding people up. But is that a reason to treat it like the post-pub fast-food joint?

I had a difficult time last week and I share it to hear any words of wisdom. This is what happened.

Out there in social media land are some human-generated posters that are deliberately controversial and rely on people, or bots, sharing them. I have a few Facebook friends who tend to share these. Some know what they are doing and others don't. There is, incidentally, a subtle difference between a friend and a Facebook friend. Without going into details now, we need to be aware of that.

So a Facebook friend, a white male, older than me who lives locally, shared a post from 2012 from the Facebook page of Enoch Powell saying 'One day the people of this nation will wake up.'

I commented 'Nailsea getting a bit too multi-cultural for you...?' (Nailsea is about 96% white), tongue-in-cheek but I knew what I was doing.

The response was 'Not Nailsea yet Steve but was in Birmingham last week. Just saying......'

This annoyed me and is as close to racism as you can get whilst still being able to deny it if asked. As Birmingham is close to my heart I replied - keeping it cool:

'What's up with Brum? That's my home. Lovely place.'

The friend 'liked' that and said nothing more. An unknown stranger jumped in with:

'The man was brilliant and ahead of his time.  Sadly we are way behind and paying the price!!!'

My friend 'liked' this too.

The correspondence closed at this point. I didn't rise any further as I didn't know the new commenter.

The next day the same Facebook friend shared another post, this time from the Refugees NOT welcome Facebook page. This organisation describes itself as a charity and is inconsistent about whether or not the word refugees needs an apostrophe in its title. Just saying...

'Two poisoned Russians, and the UK declares war on Russia. 500 murdered Europeans by Islam and UK embraces Islam.'

Now Christians Together in Nailsea are making a big effort to welcome and house refugees at the moment. Our town is friendly, hospitable and generous. We have welcomed one family to the area and are hoping to take up to ten more. I doubt that will change the 96%.

So, ignoring the factual inaccuracies that:

We haven't declared war on Russia
500 Europeans were not murdered by Islam
We have not 'embraced' Islam

I commented:

'This makes me so sad. I can't believe it is your genuinely held view.'

This happened:

SG (a stranger) said 'Just cus you're friends on fb...don't try guilt tripping probably one of the most honest and honourable blokes you are ever likely to meet....shame on you.'

I replied 'Sorry you feel like that SG. I just think that people can be honestly and genuinely misguided. I am sad but not ashamed.'

SG's reply:

'You may want to consider the possibility that it is actually YOU who is misguided ?? Nope...didn't think so.'

The original poster was kind enough to ask SG to step back from making things personal. He also said:

'Problem is Steve deciding which are genuine refugees and which are not. I have no problem in welcoming those who are genuinely in need but how to filter out the terrorists/health service tourists/spongers. Sorry but I feel, your (sic) welcome here but don't try to force your beliefs on us. Our country our rules.'

It got a bit silly after this as I suggested that the person was thinking of a different country and that my country's Christian heritage made it a place of welcome and hospitality to the alien and the stranger.

The sort of comments that followed were incredibly patronising and I responded to them all with politeness and a suggestion that we talk further over a drink.

But it is hard to hear 'Have you considered you might be wrong; no, thought not' or 'It's been on the news' without being goaded.'

My 'favourite' was when I suggested that one commentator and I might have different understandings of racism and I would be interested to hear her definition. The reply, edited, was:

How dare you question my understanding of racism. You know nothing of my background. I'm not staying here to be insulted.

Me and the original poster are still friends and I will accept the offer of a drink and a chat at some point.

But it has not ended well, I have made no new friends, been unable to convince people that I am genuinely interested in what they have to say and my attempts to lower the emotional energy and be calm have led to silence not helpful discussion.

I also note that the Facebook comment string is very hard to follow chronologically. I had to use my own activity log to piece it back together accurately.

My advice to future me:

  • When 'arguing' with people you don't know online use really simple language or they may not follow the line of reasoning. My convoluted style is not helpful in these circumstances.
  • Don't be goaded. If someone jumps to insult, don't go there. Bring it back down and apologise that it may be your own fault that you have not been clear.
  • Walk away if this doesn't work.
  • Look out for gnat-straining and camel-swallowing. I read 'Islam is not a race so it's  not racism - QED'. Let the writer's own stupidity condemn them without saying any more.
  • Don't let these people leave you with a dodgy opinion of thick-set, vest-wearing white males with chains round their necks, Or bottle-blond, white fifty something women with a smoker's complexion. That is to fall into the same trap as them.

Any other tips and hints? I'm helping run some training on social media use for church leaders next week. I felt that transparency demanded this be chronicled first.

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Thought for the Day

As delivered this morning at BBC Radio Bristol:

I'm tired. You tired? Hands up who's tired?

I got a scratch on my car. My gym socks got into a red wash and are now a fetching pink. My job has got bigger while my time to do it stays the same.

Thanks for being there; it's good to have a moan, moan, moan.

In the Christian calendar it is Wednesday in Holy Week. Some people call it Holy Wednesday. It doesn't have a great press compared to Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday which many would recognise as days with special meaning.

But those who have given things up for Lent can see the finish line now. Four more days.

'It's a busy time for you,' says almost everyone I meet on the streets this time of year. I swear they think that after Easter I'll sit in front of the tele waiting for Christmas. If only.

Do I sound grumpy? Sorry. Moan, moan, moan.

Thing is that sometimes the annual cycle of celebrations doesn't quite fit with our own mood. I seem to be joined by the news stories - grumpy landlords, lame horses and even people voting against a businesses improvement district. What's the matter with everybody?

I wish I could search down the back of the sofa for a bit of positivity. But then I remember that the Christian story is unashamedly positive about the negative. A man willingly going to his death for others (like that brave gendarme this week). It is an inspiring story.

Jesus died willingly as an example and a gift to you and me of leadership and obedience. If the worst I have to do is wear pink socks to the gym I think I may have got off lightly.

I feel better now. Thank you for being there.

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Sorry but I don't do that

As a bit of a follow on from my previous post on work-life balance I want to explore what it is you don't do.

'On Holy Tuesday the Diocese gathers to worship together and to bless the Oils which will be used for baptisms, the anointing of the sick, for confirmations and ordinations in the coming year.'

But to begin at the beginning...

In Holy Week 1985, my first as a curate, I had a crisis of confidence. I know, I know. My entire readership experiences corporate shock. It hasn't happened since.

I found myself doing such a lot of things I didn't want to do that I had no time to do the things I did. Specifically I was taking communion to so many old ladies that I did not get to give the youth group's Holy Week sufficient planning time.  I wondered if I had made a big mistake and would have been a more effective youth pastor (what I felt called to do at that time) if I had not been ordained.

On Good Friday I sat in church in the silences between three addresses I was giving in an hour and said, 'OK Lord. You can have another year.' Ever since then this has become a habit. I am a minister for life but I serve in one year chunks.

Today the clergy of Bath and Wells Diocese gather at Wells Cathedral for a Chrism Service. In addition to the blessing of the oils used in ministry it is deemed a time to encourage busy clergy to take some time for their own devotions in this special week. I won't be there. Here is a list of reasons:

1. My decision to serve for one more year is done in peace and private. I do not make good decisions about my personal life through group think.

2. I do not use oil in ministry very much and, when I do, I do not feel it makes it any more effective if it has been episcopally blessed. I value my bishops' functionality more than their ontology.

(By the way, since many cancer sufferers come to faith as they realise their life is ending, is this the oncological argument for the existence of God? That may be the most niche theological joke ever.)

3. I do not like or enjoy cathedral style worship. The sort of musical worship I enjoy would not gather a crowd, leaving me with the problem of corporate worship either being a crowd of people doing things I dislike or a crowd of people hating what we are doing and wanting it to stop. (Even my imaginary friends gang up on me.) My ordination kick-started this as everyone except me spoke of how powerful it had been to wear a dog collar for the first time and walk down the aisle singing 'The Church's One Foundation.' I didn't voice my opinion which was to do with a guitar, four chords and the truth - my ordination scored 1 out of 3. Also, I have inflated the number of chords country and western songs require by a third.

4. I am refreshed by silence, space and isolation. That which has been designed to encourage and equip me would have the exact opposite effect and I would need time to recover.

Now don't get me wrong. I understand the line about the corporate church that we should not deprive others of our gifts and presence. I think I have been to enough voluntary occasions to have earned my exeat.

Maybe one year I will go. I don't know. But just at the moment, where every direction I look in my life (work and personal) I see things that need fixing, I do not wish to make anything harder.

Enjoy the service fellow clergy. I'll put a link to this on Twitter but the wifi in the cathedral is disappointing so you may have to read it afterwards.

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

It Must Be Possible

I remember a conversation in about 1984/5 as I finished my training for ministry. He probably doesn't recall but it was with Graham Archer (now on the staff of CPAS). The gist of it was an observation that almost all the clergy we had shadowed during our training worked hard enough to make themselves unwell, had little down time, failed to keep up with reading and often sacrificed their day off to complete tasks.

We both became people who enjoyed the clergy life and have never discussed it since, but I have lived with the thought in my mind ever since that not being exhausted is better than being exhausted and have tried to work slowly and steadily with regular breaks.

Don't get me wrong. I have some long and busy days. But if the previous working day ends, as it sometimes does, at 10.00 p.m. I don't beat myself up by having an early start the next day.

I take a decent lunch break if working at home and read or catch up on TV. If there are no evening appointments I stop work at 6.30 p.m. I don't accept more than three evening bookings Monday to Thursday.

So having had a bit of bonus responsibility thrust my way recently which, if you add it up, is an extra ten days work a year, I have resigned from two diocesan committees that require at least seven, to begin to compensate.

'Were those things you enjoyed doing?' asked a member of our Church Council at a meeting last night.

Well yes they were. But I imagine I will grow into enjoying being Acting Rural Dean for as long as that lasts.

It must be possible to work modestly and effectively. It is better to work a gentle year and have no time off sick if the alternative is to cram your work into your remaining healthy days when you are not signed off with stress (I accept that overwork is not the only cause of stress and I have little daily  travel stress).

And it is why, in a busy week with lots of things to do, I am having a quiet day to read and think because that is what helps me be a better leader. And why writing this reflection is both cathartic for me and possibly helpful to others and thus a good use of my time.

I'll keep you up to date as to how I get on. Thursday this week looks particularly stupid as a number of things I do all conspire to be on the same day.

It isn't easy. But it must be possible.

Thursday, March 15, 2018

Thought for the Day

As delivered at BBC Radio Bristol this morning:

I spent an hour in a coffee shop talking to a determined young man yesterday. So much passion for making the world better. So little idea where to start.

In the song Sensual Thing by the band The Four of Us, they say:

I wanna burst outside this canned reality
I wanna turn it around and see it like the way it's meant to be

I love that lyric. It has overtones of St Paul's famous lines:

Now we see through a glass darkly
Then we will see face to face

St Paul himself was using one of Plato's allegories when he wrote. Plato imagined prisoners chained together in a cave, aware of a light behind them but unable to turn round.

All three authors' lines have the idea of searching and longing. If only we stood in the right place, read the right books, met the right people, we would find the world made complete sense.

But we can't. We're facing in the wrong direction and can't turn round. One day we will find out if there is a God (if there is one). If there isn't we will never find out.

So meantime all that is left to us is to try and make sense of the world the way we're facing. Make ourselves a bit fitter. Stretch ourselves for Sport Relief. March for victims of a fire.

I hope my coffee-shop companion gets to channel his anger. The world will be better if he does.

Whether you make sense of the world using one of the great stories of faith or simply sitting in a darkened room, all we got is canned reality and we can't burst outside it, only make a difference within it.

Thursday, March 08, 2018

Thought for the Day

As delivered on BBC Radio Bristol's Breakfast Show just now:

The God I worship and follow is of infinite variety and the creation I am part of reflects that.

How does a Thought for the Day script come to pass? You may have wondered.

Weeks in advance those of us who contribute to this slot get to agree a few dates.

Then, the day before we are to speak, the producer contacts us with a list of stories that will be covered on the show. We are invited to either link our thought to one of the stories, or to talk about something, from the perspective of our faith, that connects the stories.

Over the last five years I have spoken about the economy, education and Englishness; tower cranes and whale vomit.

So I submit a script, the producer checks that what I say won't get myself or the BBC into trouble, and away we go.

Why tell you this dear listener? Because the random selection of stories I received yesterday was the most varied I have come across:

Meals on wheels problems, a new school, a faithful lifeboat volunteer, stolen paving slabs, prosthetic limbs and all this on International Women's Day.

The capacity to use our individuality for good or evil is represented in the stories.

Psalm 104 tells of the many works of God and concludes that us mere mortals can mimic that creativity in worship and praise, with deed as well as word, or can destroy the very world with bad deeds and harmful words.

I don't know if you have spent your days nicking paving slabs or making the world a better place. All I know is that the God I worship and follow is of infinite variety and the creation I am part of reflects that.

Tuesday, March 06, 2018


A voice said 'Read' and I said 'What shall I read? There are too many books and I shall not have time to read them all.'

I am sitting in what is now known as my sabbatical chair. For many weeks last autumn I had the rare privilege of being able to read widely, well and without pressure.

Today is a long-diaried reading day, something I try to do monthly but about eight a year actually happen. It is the first since I returned to duties before Christmas. After the joy of reading without deadline today feels too short. It has taken me three hours to get to a point where the past is sufficiently reviewed and the future sufficiently planned for me to relax. Then I had to pick the books to get into. Done now.

I only chose to write this because one of the skills of a role where the job description is a bottomless pit (clergy always have something they could be doing) is to unashamedly take down-time whenever it comes along. Those clergy who can actually work from 7.00 a.m. to midnight six days a week without something giving are very unusual. I have avoided that ever since my second post in Chester-le-Street when my things-to-do list got so big I couldn't read all the tasks in one sitting.

So despite a lot to do tomorrow, which could be started today, I am going to read for a few hours now without guilt. It will give me a better ability to do more in less time in future. For I will know things I won't have to look up; I will have access to quotes and examples for talks which will save preparation time and, perhaps most importantly, I will feel better.

Monday, March 05, 2018

Last Week

I have such a collection of random thoughts knocking about in my head after last week that this will be a bit more like a journal entry.

One of the reasons it is said that the English are such a creative bunch is that we need to respond to a huge range of climatic conditions. When we get several centimetres of snow we are often mocked because the infrastructure can't cope but if the last snow and extreme cold was six years ago not many people can remember where they put their snow-clearing equipment. I think we do pretty well. Obviously the person who thought long boiler condenser pipes to the outside world were a good idea will eventually be dealt with harshly, but it's not too big a demand on your life to pour a kettle of hot water over a cold pipe every couple of hours for a day or so.

I spent a bit of extra time path-clearing and preparing some musical worship because my worship leader was trapped in Portugal. But I had two meetings postponed. Swings and roundabouts.

Chatting to someone in church yesterday about the fact that I had become the musician he invented a concept of 'emergency gifting'. I like that. I don't often play keys and lead musical worship at Trendlewood Church because others can do that. Likewise members of the church who teach often choose not to do that on a Sunday as well (but will in an emergency). Some of our IT experts tend not to become our laptop/projector operators (but will step in). What is your emergency gift?

I advise all clergy not to have emergency gifts of knowing how the heating system works or running the tech desk. Have some areas of ministry where you deliberately choose to be ignorant and cannot possibly help.
Houseparty talk scheme

We are preaching a series through Lent on sin and forgiveness. Yesterday I had the opportunity to speak about the sin at the heart of King David's reign - his adultery with Bathsheba and the arranged murder of her husband. The sermon lent (excuse me) itself to the pattern of a houseparty talk from way back:

  • Sin spoils
  • Sin spreads
  • Sin separates

I asked for a show of hands as to how many people had heard this talk before. Out of 50 adults the score was 4 (including me). It prompted me to deliver the talk with a feeling of freshness because it was new to the congregation. In a post-service review conversation a number of us noted that the pattern of CYFA (Church Youth Fellowships' Association) houseparty talks might be due a revisit in our church.

One of the things I find valuable in keeping my sanity is to have tickets for something coming up. The tragedy of cultural imprecision means that there can be barren months when I don't want to do anything and then several gigs at once.

And so it came to pass that on Saturday night we enjoyed an excellent Tobacco Factory Macbeth. A sombre ambient-industrial soundtrack and strobe lighting during the ghostly scenes added to the atmosphere. The floor of the performance area was covered in pieces of chopped up black rubber (car tyres?) to a depth of about a foot. The cast used this to bury and discover props. Brilliant, brooding and bloody.

Juxtaposed with Reginald D Hunter the next day made for an interesting weekend. Those who speak in public seeking advanced delivery tips should go to as much stand-up as they can. I joked on the journey that the mileage should really be paid for by the diocesan training budget. I still think so. Reg's use of pause was awesome. It is a terrible risk to use pause if you are a stand-up in the environment of possible heckle. He must have had so much confidence in his ability to deal with such, although none happened. We enjoyed the pauses and waited for the punch-lines. I love the Everyman at Cheltenham but it was designed in the days when people were shorter. My limbs will unfold by tomorrow lunchtime I'm sure. Honourable mention to Wild Beer at Jessop House for services to pre-theatre food and drink.

Gigs coming up include Field Music and Calexico and then a debate evening at the Bath Festival.

Tonight I take my role of Assistant Rural Dean and Acting Dean to Portishead enhanced Deanery Synod with the Bishop of Bath and Wells. That makes the last three nights Tragedy, Comedy and Deanery. Good afternoon.

Sunday, February 25, 2018

Gettin Jiggy Wid It

Staring at a large image of two black labrador pups playing in a garden, after forty years of marriage we broached the subject. Are we compatible? It may seem to you to be a long time to wait before deciding but some things are best not rushed. So we had a conversation. Tentative at first but then more passionate, about the right way to do it. And do you know, we agreed. So we did it. And enjoyed it.

First we sorted the straight edges from the rest of the pieces. Then we identified the four corner pieces and assembled the framework.

Then we carried out a thorough sort, identifying some obvious colour groupings. The black pieces were mainly dog. The grey ones paving slabs. The brown bits crate or barrel (hard to tell apart).

As the crates and paving became more complete we sorted more thoroughly learning to tell brown crate from brown slab. and although there were some subtle differences in our technique - I was the more patient and fastidious sorter; she the more emotional commentator on how difficult the whole task was - we worked together on a task, chatting, drinking from tea into wine and listening to music.

Instead of spending our holiday evenings sitting at opposite ends of a sofa reading; or sitting gazing lovingly at iPads, or watching one too many episodes of a box set before retiring, we did a 1000 piece jigsaw. I say 'did'. We had to give up at about 800 because we ran out of holiday and by then it was obvious that we had at least ten bits missing. Although we did identify four pieces that belonged in one of the other jigsaws - a puzzle two previous solvers had noted on the box had five pieces missing. Make that one.

But even the decision to put an unfinished jigsaw puzzle back in the box was taken agreeably.

So now we have a new leisure activity. We have bought ourselves a couple of puzzles and visitors to Vynes Mansions are welcome to join in.

And if you fancy a swap some time. Well we'd be up for that. And with the door into double entendre room firmly ajar I bid you good afternoon.

Saturday, February 17, 2018


I have written before about the difference between bread with presevatives in and a more natural product. Find my piece about Gozitan bread here. It's only short.

Recently I have noticed that we are not eating so much bread in the house again and our home-made stuff tends to deteriorate before we have finished a loaf. We solve this by making a new loaf and freezing half of it each time.

But another first world problem has appeared. We are the destination of choice when Lakeland bread-making packs approach their best-before date. And as the yeast has a few problems of ageing the packs often require a double knead and prove. Even this is not quite enough and some very solid products have appeared recently. Toasting a slice can take longer than a normal adult male has in the morning. So imagine the trouble I have. We play scissors, paper, bread in my gaff now.

I feel I need to crawl back to the lovely Colin at Nailsea's Tuesday Market and buy some of his soudough and rye creations. He calls them campaouille or something like that. Pronounced in broad Somerset the French would have no idea it is their language he is mangling.

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Thought for the Day

As delivered at BBC Radio Bristol just now:

When Valentine's Day and Ash Wednesday coincide, Easter Day is on All Fools Day. I said that recently and a helpful parishioner with too much time on his hands corrected me. Unless it's a leap year. Then April First becomes a Monday. It will happen in 2024, apparently.

This is the sort of thing that my sons label with the hashtag #vicarfact - stuff that clergy think important but nobody else does.

Tonight I will be at Christ Church, Nailsea in a symbolic act of Christian worship. We will make marks on our foreheads with ash to remind us of mortality. Then we will share bread and wine to remind us of eternity.

I was seeking a great title for the sermon at this communion event to embrace the lovey-dovey valentines and the reality of Lent:

Bread and ash? Too much like a recipe.

'Til death do us part? That's one of my wedding sermons.

Eventually I chose:

The best lovers say sorry

It's true. The beginning of Lent, often a time when people give things up, is more a time of reflection and repentance. If you are in a long-term relationship which has survived the years, it is likely that both of you will have learned to say sorry. If you are in the first stages of a relationship, introduce the word sorry at an early stage. You're going to need it.

Final thought. The team at Bristol Cathedral tweeted a reminder that Ash Wednesday is more important than St Valentine so the commemoration of that day, in the church, is held over until tomorrow. If you are late with your card it is OK - this year. And that's a hashtag #vicarfact

Monday, February 12, 2018

Liberal Evangelism

I've just come back from a very enjoyable conversation organised by our Diocesan Mission Adviser on the subject of Liberal Evangelism. There were thirteen of us in the room from the four corners of the Diocese. I am hugely grateful to work in a diocese that welcomes and enables this kind of conversation.

We all enjoyed being able to contribute freely and therefore to some extent confidentially. Not all of us who have liberal tendencies in evangelical churches are 'out' yet.

But to give you a flavour of the discussion, we grappled with things such as:

Young people have more of a sense of shame than a sense of sin. Can you do evangelism without making sin the start of the story?

Jesus taking bread, breaking it and saying 'This is me' is the ultimate deconstruction. How much do we think Jesus wanted a neatly packaged ideology to be his legacy?

If we want to grow in numbers we have to use language that is useful to people. Everyone should be welcome to come in and then to tell us what life is like in their experience.

I felt very much at home with this bunch of explorers.