Sunday, 22 March 2015

All Greek to Me

Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honour.
“Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” (John 12)

The "Greeks" who asked for Jesus were, I expect, Greek Jews. I expect they were there for the Passover. They wanted to see Jesus. And they found Philip. Philip is a Greek name. It means "horse-lover". Though not in the Biblical sense. That was very banned. So maybe he was also a Greek Jew - they shared the language well enough to ask to see Jesus. So Philip and Andrew go to Jesus and say, there are some Greeks want a backstage pass. And Jesus goes off about darkness and glory.

I wonder - is it the arrival of these people from a far off country that causes Jesus to say these words? Once wise men - Magi - came to greet him at his birth. Now, again, people from across the known world are looking for him. He has star appeal, does Jesus. He's making his name across Jerusalem, Judah and Galilee. He is being glorified - called a great teacher. Some say he's the miracle worker. And if he can gather the Jews that want a rebellion from across the Roman Empire - he could throw out the Romans. He could, at least, raise the flags of defiance against an oppressive Empire. He could take earthly glory.

Or he could take on the glory that he is sent for. He could actually live for his Father's glory. The shadow of the cross lays across the road before him. He will see darkness before he sees the light that he calls us to.

"...unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." In the autumn a few "volunteers" from the food bank had been planting bulbs down on a patch by the Great House window, and they'd piled up all the rocks next to the back door - I save them to throw at Morris Dancers on May Morning. But a few weeks ago, we were putting a trough with of rocks and sand for the Little Pebbles, to be their Lent desert display. So I picked up some of the rocks, and while I was doing it I noticed a bulb lying on the surface of the flower bed, where a bird had presumably dug it up and left it.

Not really thinking, I popped it into the sand in the trough, and I forget about it.

I was in the Little Pebbles' class room the other day, and I noticed a green shoot poking up through the rocks. I watered it quick - I'm now hoping that in a few weeks I will find out what that bulb was. Tulip, I'm guessing. If you don't plant a bulb you won't get a flower. If you don't plant a seed, you won't get a harvest. Stuff happens in the darkness beneath the ground. Stuff happens when things die, says Jesus.

And he tells us, if we are his disciples, we have to follow him. If he goes down to the darkness, we are to be there with him. This does not necessarily have to mean death in Jesus's name. Though, as our brothers and sisters in Iraq have faced over the last couple of years, it might. But if we follow Jesus - if we're where he is - it can mean darkness at times.

There's the darkness of rejection or opposition or ridicule - from our enemies, those who are against us for some reason, but also from our friends. There's also the dark times when we realise our own weakness and sin. It's a side effect of following Jesus, who is light, that he throws light on our own darkness. Compared to him, we realise where we fall short. We know where we have let God down. It's why, every week in the Moot House, we write all our sins on sheets of A4 and feed them through the sin-shredder as a symbol of our sinfulness being wiped away by God. Obviously, it doesn't work, even as an analogy. We've not destroyed our sins - merely spread them out in a form that is more difficult to manage. But we do it, nonetheless, because it's tradition. And where are we if we are without tradition? Milton Keynes, that's where.

"Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.""

As Jesus reflects on his ordeal to come - he runs through the options available. He's here now, in Jerusalem. He has come for a purpose. His last week is running out. But he could turn and run. He could pray for his Father to send his angels. But, no. The Son's job is to glorify his Father. He will stand and face the cross. And the Father responds that his name will be glorified. Even the eternal Son of God, when he walked this earth, did what he did - not for his own glory - but for the Father's. His life is one of obedience. He lives out those two commandments - love the Lord Your God with all your heart, and love your neighbour as yourself.

The temptation for us, is to live to our own glory. We look for our own promotion, our own little glories. As a priest, you can look to be the Pope in your own parish. If you're the church treasurer or lead the Ladies' Bright Hour, you can make your little corner of the Kingdom your own. You can glorify yourself there.

Or you might have to do what Jesus did - what some are called to - to suffer for the Kingdom. That's what our Lord did. Or you can do what Philip did. Philip could speak to the Greeks. He could also speak to Jesus. He wasn't doing anything for himself - he was helping some people, who wanted to see the Light of the World.

That's what we are supposed to do - build a bridge, light the way, interpret - we have the job of leading people to Jesus. I was in Bedford the other day and - as there often is in Bedford - there was a bloke preaching in the town centre. In principle, nothing wrong with that. We are sent into the world to preach the Gospel. But in practice he wasn't really preaching. He was shouting religious things while everybody ignored him. And in practice, when i stopped and listened - the problems he was describing, although a Christian would understand the terminology, were not problems that the people he was speaking to would understand. He used complex, evangelical terminology. He may be right that he was fallen into iniquity - lost in his sins and that, through washing in the blood he was redeemed. I rejoice for him. But to the people who passed him by he might as well have been speaking Greek.

And in case we are smug at this - at least he was trying. In a rather strange way, he was preaching the Gospel - trying to raise Jesus up - trying to bring people to him. Glorifying his name. When we talk to people about the things that in principle should matter to us most - about the new life God gives, about the love Jesus shows, about the reality that the Holy Spirit - God in movement, is moving in our lives - do they hear about love and glory and life? Or do they hear about furniture rearrangement and committee meetings and finances? Or do they actually hear nothing?

We need to be in the same position as Philip. Close to Jesus, but speaking other people's languages.  That's why there is a problem when the people of the Church say they'd never read the Sun or Daily Mirror, or rather smugly say that they don't use the Internet. They're not on Facebook or Twitter.  Because that's where people are. That's how they speak. That's how they make sense of their lives. That's where we can engage with them. I'm not saying that every 50-year-old Archdruid should be learning street slang and gettin' down wit' te yout. You'd end up rekt. But to the people around you - the ones who you meet every day, eat or drink or talk with - your life should be the glory of Jesus, but in their language.

Philip was able to speak the language of the Greeks - but close to Jesus. That's where we need to be. When Philip took the message to Jesus, and Jesus answered, some said it thundered. Others said an angel spoke to him. Jesus and - I presume - his disciples knew what God was saying. You can speak people's language, you can show them Jesus. After that, it's down to the Spirit, and to them, what they hear. You've done your job. You've seen God's glory. And you've been able to speak their language.

Saturday, 21 March 2015

Fracas at the Food Bank

Our Beaker Food Bank has been getting increasingly popular. I'll be honest, I never realised that there were so many needy people around on the Beds/Bucks borders.

And our clients have always been so grateful. Many of them have kindly done odd jobs in the garden, a bit of litter picking, bits of painting, electrical wiring, putting in our new computer network, our auditing - little bits of help.

Received a letter today from the Revenue. Apparently what we call "charity", they have decided to redefine as "aggressive tax avoidance". I'm outraged. How dare they imply that a senior accountant with a local firm is not as entitled to use our Food Bank as some scruffy poor person?

And they call this the Big Society? Cameron's Broken Britain more like. I'm going to start a petition.


Friday, 20 March 2015

Thought for the Day

Realised eschatology isn't the end of the world.

A Profit in Her Own Country

Bad news. Didn't manage to sell a single pair of the special Solar dark glasses I got just after the 1999 Eclipse. Saved them up all those years thinking I'd make a killing this time round. And it's only a matter of time before the Tellytubbies logos look a bit dated.

Good news. Managed to sell them to the BBC. Apparently the senior management will use them to look at the bottom of Jeremy Clarkson without going blind.

Feast of the Equinox Eclipse

Archdruid: Welcome, watchers of the skies!

All: Ooooooh!

Archdruid: All winter we've been hanging on in quiet desperation

All: In the English way.

Archdruid: The Equinox is upon us!  The Sun crosses the equator, bringing fun, fun, fun.

All: Mr Blue Sky is living here today,  hey hey.

Archdruid: But just as he crosses the half-way line, he will be taken out by the moon.

All: Like Martin Skrtel body-checking a striker who's been played through.

Archdruid: And behold - Hnaef climbs upon the Tightrope of Equinoctial Balance.

All: To plunge into the darkness of the duck pond

Archdruid: ...as the Sun plunges into the Void

All: The Void

Archdruid: The Void

All.... of Darkness

Moon Gibbon: As it is eaten by the Moon Gibbon!

Moon Gibbon Folk Run Screaming into the woods

Hymn: Equinox (Jarre)

Final Blessing

All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.

Archdruid: There is no dark side of the moon really.

All: Matter of fact it's all dark

No Dogs, No Metric Measures

A UKIP policitian is under investigation for financial irregularities.'Party leader Nigel Farage told the BBC there would be an "immediate investigation as to what the truth of this is"."All I will say is, we have got the spotlight very much on us as UKIP," he said."We've got to behave absolutely properly and if we see anything we think is wrong, we will come down on it like a tonne of bricks."'

Dear BBC

I think you'll find that should be "ton".

Thursday, 19 March 2015

The Feast of St Joseph

A nice piece from Quantum Theology on St Joseph. Well worth a look.


Making Sense in a Random Place

Interesting little article on the BBC website on the human tendency to make patterns out of randomness - and why our idea of "random" is actually better described as "roughly evenly distributed". Reminds me of my friend who complained her CD autoplayer wasn't truly random, as it regularly played songs twice in succession. I worked out for her that, based on the number of tracks she was playing, she could expect this to happen on average once an hour. Which was about the length of her commute.

It also reminds me of the story about the Founder of the John Lewis Partnership. It's said that some people visiting the Odney Club at Cookham, where the Partnership has a country house / training centre, saw the gardener throwing conkers on the ground. But half were painted, When they asked why, the explanation was that the gardener was planting a mixture of different coloured crocus bulbs and had to ensure they looked random. So he threw down the conkers until they looked random enough, and if they didn't look particularly random he threw them down again. Then planted the bulbs in their colours according to the paint on the conkers.

Spedan Lewis also gave away a great fortune by making his employees Partners in his shops. Which means he was a genius and/or a madman. But it shows the power of pattern making in our minds. We take apparently - or actually -random things and coincidences and try to make sense out of them. Maybe that's why humans developed magic, religion and science - ways of trying to make sense out of what is the totally random around us. 

Sometimes, a strong act of a confident person based on what is actually a random event can make a giant leap forward. I think, for example, of the scientists who noticed a bunch of sick ferrets. They concluded - correctly - that influenza can transfer between species. A really important piece of knowledge, informing us of the way that the disease mutates and disseminates in the wild. And all based on poor evidence, as the ferrets actually had canine distemper. But it just goes to show - we make patterns and, if they're strong, we act on them. I mean, the sheer chance appearaance of the words "In this sign conquer" to Constantine caused him to assume that God was, in some sense, on his side and of course to become Emperor.

It's our pattern-making that contributes to our humanity. It can also lead, like a badly-coded piece of DNA, to some fairly odd conclusions. Take tomorrow's supermooneqinoxaurorapoceclipse, for instance. Obviously we have some American fundamentalists telling us that it's a sign from God of our evil ways. That's what fundamentalist self-appointed prophets do. Interesting that they blame things like gay weddings and the rise of Islam. God never does these things to warn us that we're half-enslaving half the world to make our cheap blouses and shoes. Nor that the reason why the population of Northen Europe is being supplemented by so many Muslim guests is because their good ol' boy evangelical George Dubya, together with our war-obsessed Catholic convert, bombed the hell out of Iraq so Yanks could have cheap oil, and their successors followed up by destabilising the bits of the Middle East that were left.

On the whole, frackng would have been better. Less trouble all round.

But the point is, if God wanted to use a fairly rare line up of events to warn us of our evil ways, to tell us we're on the slippery slope to liberal vicars conducting gay weddings for Muslims in every parish in South London - well,  he's had this programmed this in since the Moon first orbited the Moon. All these facts could have been forecast decades ago - the eclipse in particular has been known for ages. So God must have known we would be particularly evil a long time ago.

So why didn't the evo prophets of doom? These are all perfectly calculable events. They could have told us we'd all be evil years ago, given us the chance to repent then. Not left it till this week.

But there's more, I think. 

Forecasting how things will pan out on earth by looking at what is happening in Space isn't really a prophetic method in the New Testament - or even the Old. And although the methodology of forecasting supermoons and eclipses is part of astronomy, working out what they mean isn't. I think that's actually called astrology. The Wise Men in Matthew's Gospel did it once, but I think they got away with it. If I were an American fundamentalist prophet, I'd look very carefully at the patterns I was discerning. And then worry who my companions were.

Wednesday, 18 March 2015

Even More Calorific Burgers

The Daily Mail (if you follow the link, you know what you'll find)  tells us about the "10 Most Calorific Burgers".

Which is, in scientific terms, ridiculous. Within 20 minutes of reading the post, Bernie, our master of roadkill cuisine, had produced something even more calorific: the BadgerBurger. Just spit-roast a badger and then put it between two halves of a bun.

Or, to go one better, the Badger King. That's a badger, wrapped in bacon, with a slice of gherkin, in a bun.

Or the Elkburger. A moose, between two slices of white bread. Although making it an Elk Monsieur, with an added poached egg, goes better again.

I've no idea how he got it in the freezer, or on what stretch of the M1 it died, but Bernie claimed that the Blue Whale Burger he whipped up later, at about 2 million calories (they're high in protein), is the biggest burger you can get.

Yeah. Good theory.

But I added a Kraft cheese slice.

Rekt.

Supermoonequinaurorapoceclipse

Knackered today. Spent all night watching out for the aurora.

Didn't see it. But I'm sure, if the fog on the Tyne cleared, then the Northern Lights were in the eyes of the people of Lindisfarne. Whereas we in Bedfordshire only get aurorae when there's a blackout due to having an enormous war with Germany. And I'm not convinced it's quite worth going to all that trouble.

But the terror that the aurora drew from the Beaker Folk was as nothing compared to the combined Spring Equinox, Solar Eclipse and Supermoon we're expecting for Friday. The Gibbon Moon Folk have already fled into the woods, convinced that the Moon Gibbon, having already eaten the moon, is going to have a munch on the sun also. The Independent - of all papers - has told us that "a Supermoon, or perigee moon, happens when the full or new moon does its closest fly-by of the Earth, making it look bigger than it normally does."

A new moon - like we will have on Friday - can't be seen. How terrifying can you get, ask the Gibbon Moon people. A new moon that looks bigger than normal. Their minds, being very small, boggle.

 All this, happening on top of the aurora, can only mean one thing. The Internet will be awash with fundamentalists and the Daily Express telling us the world is at an end, the earth's magnetic poles will flip, Louis Van Gaal will show signs of understanding football tactics, and Jeremy Clarkson, Alistair Campbell and George Carey will admit they were wrong all along. About everything.

Already the signs of the End of the Age are moving into place. Tony Blair, after a run of success as Middle East Peace Envoy that is rivalled only by Richard the Lionheart and Osama Bin Laden, is going off to spend more time with his money. All over England, yellow flowers are springing up. And, as the Independent points out, rare celestial events - including the equinox, of which we only have two a year, and a supermoon, of which we only have six or so - are going to break out. And I mean, how often do we get a budget in the Spring?

It's too much. We've issued tin foil hats  to all the Beaker Folk and instructed them all to paint themselves green and adopt a prone position until Saturday. It won't help, should Armageddon break out, but at least it'll give us a laugh.

This Charming Man

Stop me if you think you've heard this one before.

We've been having psychic trouble with poor Snodgrazz since the 80s Revival Service (mullets and Our God Reigns) as he claims he is now channeling the Spirit of the 80s.

Specifically, he's looped back into his adolescent Smiths phase. I asked him if he could at least come out to Pouring out of Beakers - see if the quiet spirituality could touch his soul - but he tells me he hasn't got a stitch to wear. I blame this whole episode on his trauma when, after a long period on Jobseekers, he obtained employment but then realised he didn't like it. Heaven knows he's miserable now. And it's changed his view on animals. He won't eat his favourite wallaby stew - says meat is murder.  I said - us living near the M1, and it being cheaper - that it's roadkill, but he says what difference does it make?

So we sent his best mate, William, round to see him on Saturday - see how he was feeling - but he told him that it was really nothing. In some respects it was just as well he stayed in, given it was Electro Revival Night, and after what he said he would do the DJ if he played any more "Heaven 17". And I feared collateral damage. I wouldn't want to be responsible for the death of a disco dancer. Instead I sat with him and we discussed former Liverpool managers - how they compare to Brendan Rodgers and who we think the best is. Frankly, Mr Shankly was the conclusion.

But it's really unnerving late at night. Hearing the sound of "Girlfriend in a Coma" echoing round the building, to the rhythmic accompaniment of Snodgrazz  banging his head on the wall. He tells me it's because he can't sleep. But then, it must be tricky for him, sleeping in a room when he insists there is a light that will never go out.


Anyway, we've sent Sheila, the Community's resident retired (and therefore unpaid) nurse round to see him. She tells me he's still ill. And he's insisted he take one of his rather weird hair bow collection with her. He buys one every week, in memory of the girl who jilted him in 1986 and who was fond of this particular item. It's a real obsession, and he swore he'd stop when there were no more different bows in the local haberdashers shop. But the cunning shopkeeper, realising he had a potentially endless income stream, has sourced a different bow every week from around the world. Poor Snodgrazz has started something he couldn't finish.