Answers

In response to my enthusiasm for The Interrogative Mood: A Novel? (see yesterday's post) some have suggested that a book consisting entirely of answers might be better than a book of questions. I wonder?

Forty seven. Second shelf down on the right. I prefer tigers. With a baseball bat please. Along the A370 and then turn left in Congresbury. Yellow. Seven thirty for seven forty five. Only if you are sure the cat is really dead. Next Tuesday. £7.49. No. No. No. Yes. Possibly. No. Definitely not. I've told you once. You cannot believe how offended I am by that question. Me. Simon Cowell. It needs more oregano. Drummer Man by Tonight. You get used to them after about a fortnight. In a car accident when I was fourteen. Pulp Fiction. It's an Acer. The Surreal McCoy but I haven't seen the second half of the week yet. Flight Lieutenant. He burnt it. Under the patio. A bit like chicken.

Maybe the fun is the questions that are begged. But a whole book of it?

Questions

Can you imagine a book, the length of a novel, where every sentence is a question? Would you find such a book a curiosity or an annoyance? Have you heard of Padgett Powell's book The Interrogative Mood - A Novel?? Do those two question marks in a row, one in italics and one not, annoy you, or does the first, as part of the title, indicate that this may not be a novel quite like any other you have read? How do you respond to the review on the jacket saying, 'This book will sear the unlucky volumes shelved on either side of it'? Does it alter your opinion at all that this was said by Jonathan Safran Foer? Do you have an opinion about yellow trousers? Does it depend on age? Or gender? Or something else? Might this review give you a taste of what the book is like better than actually reviewing it? Or am I messing with you? Do you find it interesting that there was no title on the original jacket front so Waterstone's added a sticker which did not have the title on either? Does lemonade do it for you? Which limb (either arm or either leg) would you lose if you had to lose one? Will you let me know?

Young and Old

From time to time I am reminded that people don't take you as they find you, accept you at face value, assume the best of you etc.

For instance, 'Would you like a cup of coffee?' Simple question and all but the most indecisive, only those completely unaware of their own personal current hierarchy of needs, will fail to answer yes or no to this one. You reckon?

I probably offer more teas and coffees to people than most other folk in Nailsea. Just a guess but if you want to rise to the challenge please do so.

I do get quite a lot of straight answers but also very many responses of, 'Are you having one?'

Why do we have this desire to put people to no trouble when trouble has been clearly offered? If it was going to be a hardship to offer you a coffee I would have said so, although the only circumstances in which I can imagine this would be a lack of time, ingredients or recipe.

By and large it is older people than me who give the 'It depends' response. Younger people give a straight answer.

'Would you like to stay for supper?'
'Is that OK?'
'Of course it's OK; I wouldn't have invited you if it wasn't OK.'

Now occasionally young people respond politely and hesitantly to this invitation but, and here is a response no older person would ever give, sometimes they say, 'What are we having?' Are they wondering if there may be a better meal elsewhere possibly?

I have a new regular guest who, on being offered a cold or hot drink said 'Both.' Guess the age. Insiders can't play.

Stuff to Read

Three interesting 'easy' novels from my recent holiday:

David Sedaris
Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk
Pretty animal stories of the fireside, woodland and pasture, partially anthropomorphised. Like your comedy black? This is goth. It's a jungle out there.

Robert Harris
The Fear Index
A very bad day in the life of the inventor of an algorithmic hedge fund programme. Currencies crash, governments change, he gets burgled and followed and everyone is very suspicious as to why he keeps making money as everyone else loses. In fact he can't seem to stop himself getting richer.

Chris Brookmyre
Where The Bodies Are Buried
I'm always disappointed when a book is described as 'a new departure' in the author's writing. If it wasn't broke etc. Why did Christopher Brookmyre become Chris? So let's all relax. It's not quite so black but is it dark. The plot is believable - this is a new departure. It's not very funny and has fewer social and political comments along the way. It is very good.

Bit Ordinary

When the English cricket team scraped a draw last series using a series of legal, but frustrating, time-wasting techniques, Aussie captain Ricky Ponting described the behaviour as 'a bit ordinary.' It wasn't meant to mean 'conventional'. Amongst giants he expected outstanding morals; idiot. But clearly the word 'ordinary' had overtones of sub-standard. Aussie meaning, or changing meaning?

For those who have the privilege of saying Morning and Evening Prayer each day we are now in a seasonless void called 'ordinary time'. The church's year begins at Advent and then proceeds through Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost and Trinity. This takes roughly the six months, December to May.

Thereafter the weeks 'after Trinity', although including the non-standard and untimed festivals of summer holidays, harvest and the whole death and remembrance fortnight, can seem pretty ordinary in the Ponting sense.

I sense my fellow participants shuffling impatiently waiting for the time to become special again. I don't. I like ordinary.

'In those days the word of the Lord was rare, there were not many visions,' the Bible tells us as a preamble to the mighty impact of Samuel.

Enjoy the ordinary; it's good not to turn the tables over every week. Even so come Lord Jesus, I will say, but not just yet.

A Tale of Abject Stupidity

Abject is normally reserved  as a descriptor of poverty. Stick with me. I know my regular reader appreciates the occasional confessional nature of this blog so hang around. I have tunnelled under my usual low standards.

My friends (I don't know what else to call them) at Lloyds Bank sent me two new pieces of plastic to replace the ones in my wallet fast reaching their call security date. A green one and a grey one.

I only ever use two pieces of plastic - a green one (Mastercard) and a grey one (debit card). I removed the old ones from my wallet and cut them neatly into four as the new ones bore a sticker saying they could be used immediately.

I was peeling off the stickers and placing the new cards in my wallet when I noticed some new writing on the grey one. A shiver wandered very very slowly down my spine, through my groin and out of my pocket.

The second card was a replacement for the airmiles duo credit card which my friends decided to send me a few years ago for no reason and I never use.

I examined the four pieces of my debit card in the bin. It doesn't run out until the end of next year. Doesn't? Didn't, it has now.

I had cut up my valid debit card and had no replacement. This is premiership stupidity. Stupidity max with extra fries.

As I contemplated having to PHONE THE BANK the shiver re-entered my pocket and walked back up my spine digging its claws in.

I have a new debit card coming. It will take a few days. That, staff colleagues, is why it is not my round today or tomorrow. And yes, the lovely bank account handler did suggest I upgraded my platinum account to a more expensive one during the conversation.

I cut up the wrong card. The shame.

Thank you. I feel better now. Usual fee?

I cut up the wrong card.

Doh.

Abject doh.

Best/Worst

My best/worst book

In times when I need cheering up, or to take a few moments to enjoy a clever sentence or two I reach for some Douglas Adams. As a Christian Minister there is never a Bible far away and I’ll probably get in trouble with the Hezbollah wing of the Church of England for not mentioning this first. Illywhacker by Peter Carey was enjoyable and still entertains me nearly twenty years after I first read it. It is a narrative told by a 139 year old liar called Herbert who uses a giant pet-shop as a metaphor for the growth of Australia.

I have read so many bad books. I try not to finish them but usually plough on. Dan Brown’s, Angels and Demons was particularly awful. There is no reason to read more than one Dan Brown book. I have read two.

My best/worst evening out

West Bromwich Albion have given me some particularly horrific evenings out over the years so I now confine my live football watching to lower league. I normally find something good in any evening out. In May 1972 I saw The Faces, at the height of their powers, in a field in Lincolnshire, top of a remarkable festival bill. It was my 17^th birthday. That was good. Mrs WWA may now sue.

My best/worst CD/record

Whilst all this depends on mood I come back again and again to the eponymous debut album of a band called Sunshine. Nobody else I have ever met has heard of them. Currently I play Radiohead a lot. Drummer Man by Tonight is my favourite single of all time. My family gave me a Des O’Connor album as a joke once. I didn’t listen to it so can’t tell you if it was as bad as Limp Bizkit’s, Chocolate Starfish and the Hot-dog Flavoured Water. It would have to go some.

My best/worst holiday

Two weeks in Canterbury and Hastings in about 1990 with 10 and 8 year old sons when it rained every day. Every day. Any holiday now is my best one, most recently 14 days in Gozo last June. Don’t discover Gozo. Leave it unspoiled for me and Mrs WWA.

My best/worst job

I’ve never had a job I hated apart from going to school, which I loathed. Tasks yes. Jobs no. I hate DIY and will pay ridiculous sums of money to avoid it. I love so much which I can gratefully call work – listening to people, entertaining, writing, making music, preaching. What you got?

Anyone else want to join in this exercise?

Leaving Church

‘A Churchless Faith’ by Alan Jamieson is about people who kept their faith but left church. A member of a congregation gave it to me. Perhaps I should take the hint.

It’s heavy, but worth the struggle. The author interviewed people who could no longer cope with their local evangelical church. The common theme of the replies – many of the people were in leadership positions in churches – was that they had questions which seemed a step too far.

The interviewees raised issues, some of which go right to the crux of Christian faith. Others are peripheral. Questions such as:

Can we really trust the Bible?

Can you be a Christian without being certain of your faith?

Why do our churches apparently have so many rules?

Why so much emphasis on sexual behaviour?

Is the church leader always right?

There are many more. The questioners felt that the very act of asking was deemed to be so divisive that they had to, eventually, take their queries outside the church community, painful as that was.

Once, a man called Job suffered greatly. Read about him in the Bible. He’s got a whole book named after him. For thirty seven chapters he questions God about his pain, whilst listening to the dodgy advice of human comforters. Eventually he shuts up and listens. God asks some questions back. Job can’t answer. He ends up saying, ‘I have talked about things that are far beyond my understanding.’ He learnt through questioning.

As a Christian Minister I hear loads of questions; about church, about God, about everything. I have some myself. I feel my church is a reasonably safe place to raise them. The answers may cause someone to leave but asking should not. All churches should have signs over the door, even if only imaginary, saying ‘Questioners always welcome.’

Willow Creek GLS

It is the sign of an utterly modern conference that a Twitter hashtag, in this case #wcagls will be advertised to delegates. In fact at the Willow Creek Association Global Leadership Summit in Bristol, from which I have just returned, it was on every page of the delegate material.

Now I love this bold move which invites us to engage with each other and the material being taught. The disappointment, for me, is that by and large all delegates around the world did was lift quotes from speakers and tweet them. Taking stuff out of context, some said 'that the thoughts may be shared wider,' is all well and good, but where was the critical engagement?

When a speaker based his whole message around a possible, or at least dubious, translation of 2 Kings 3:16. When an interviewee told us he learned most of what he learned about leadership aged 14-18. When being slightly over-challenged was promoted as the key to creativity. No-one batted an eyelid.

I think Willow like critical friends. I fear they have produced puppys.

Don't get me wrong. There were many fine take-aways from the conference and I scored several of the speakers 5/5 on my feedback form. Seth Godin, Henry Cloud, Cory Booker, John Dickson and Patrick Lencioni were all amazing. Do Willow know many women? The hosting by e@b (Bristol Elim) was great and the pre-conference admin good.

I'd just like to see a slightly edgier discussion. All those leaders and barely a tweetfight. Sad.

Why I Love My Wife Number 456

It is 6.45 a.m. on Saturday morning and the alarm goes off. We are heading for a conference, but as I am doing a men's meeting first I say:

WWA: I'll have coffee but not breakfast.

MrsW: I wish we had a maid called Mabel

            (beat)

             not all the time, just sometimes.

WWA: If we had a maid I'd rather she was called Monique.

MrsW: How did you know what Mabel looked like?

WWA: I just did.

MrsW: I'm going downstairs now. I'll get the coffee.

Beer, Bible and Big Pizza

Yesterday I was a bit depressed. The men's event I had been planning and looking forward to for some time had not produced much interest. I offered a prayer that, in order to give us reasonable numbers and atmosphere, one man might book in every two hours for the next thirty hours.

We are on target for this. So far we have 23 plus a panel of 4 making 27 coming tonight. It will feel good with this number. Thanks be to God.

I'm off to buy beer and order pizza. Tough job this.

FAQs
Did you put the word 'big' in front of pizza merely to improve the alliteration?

Yes.

Will the pizzas actually be big?

Yes

Do I have to drink beer if I don't like it?

No. I will get some juice and wine.

Is it too late to say I am coming?

No.

Will I have to talk about the Bible?

No, a panel of three men will be my guests to do this? Audience comments will be welcome but not compulsory.

Joke

Great joke from the Grove Books mailing:

There was an engineer, a manager, and a programmer driving down a steep mountain road. The brakes failed and the car careened down the road out of control. Half way down the driver managed to stop the car by running it against the embankment narrowly avoiding careening off the cliff. They all got out, shaken by their narrow escape from death, but otherwise unharmed.

The manager said, 'To fix this problem we need to organize a committee, have meetings, and through the process of exchanging ideas, develop a solution.'

The engineer said, 'No that would take too long, besides that method never worked before. I have my trusty pen knife here and will take apart the brake system, isolate the problem and correct it.'

The programmer said, 'I think you're both wrong! I think we should all push the car back up the hill and see if it happens again.'

Acknowledged to www.mikeysfunnies.com

A Nomadic People

I write a regular piece for Urban Saints as part of their excellent Energize material for youth and children's groups. If you haven't come across it I do commend it to you.

The particular thing I do is to produce a study based on an item in the news. Although you will need to subscribe to get the full benefit, you can browse the site. Recent studies have been on riots, Libya, Egypt, that Royal wedding and the Japanese tsunami. Topical stuff.

Last week they asked me to do some thinking on the Dale Farm eviction. That is the slightly surreal story of the travellers who want to stay where they are.

I do not want to steal my own thunder but just to say that the biblical material was fascinating. What right have any of us got, if we place our citizenship in heaven, to say we have arrived anywhere? We are all nomads. We have been ever since Abram heard God tell him to go somewhere else. We are a pilgrim people descended from a pilgrim people. So although from time to time some settle down and stay put others continue on missionary journeys.

Some members of the Dale Farm community have probably broken some laws, or done somethings without formal permission. Basildon Council doesn't exactly come out of the affair smelling of roses though.

The fewer travellers there are the rarer the land, in a densely populated country, on which they might make their temporary home. There's the rub.