(Written for the Mayor of Knowsley’s Civic Sunday at St Nicholas’, Halewood, 28th June 2009.)
I believe that when hairdressers are being trained, they are told never to discuss religion or politics with their customers. I don’t know if this is true, but it makes me wonder what it’s like when Desmond Tutu goes to the barbers…
“Going anywhere nice for your holidays, Archbishop? Got any plans for Christmas?”
Desmond Tutu is, of course, more than happy to discuss religion and politics. He once said:
“When people say the Bible and politics don't mix, I don't know which Bible they are referring to. It’s not the one I've been reading.”
I suppose the problem is with bad religion and bad politics – the sort of religion that supported apartheid in South Africa, segregation in the United States, and Nazism and anti-Semitism in Europe.
More recently, we have had the uncomfortable sight of the British National Party claiming to be “the only political party standing up for” Christian faith and culture. I’m not generally in favour of a blasphemy law (I tend to think that God does not need us to defend him in court), but the BNP came close to converting me with their election poster featuring an image of Christ crucified, a quotation from scripture (“If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you;” John 15:20) and tagline, “What would Jesus do?” – the implication being that Jesus would vote BNP to defend Christianity in this country! I’m not convinced that the BNP would welcome Jesus the Jew as one of their supporters!
So, what kind of politics emerges from the Bible that Desmond Tutu reads? Some ideas from the bible readings set for Sunday 28th June:
In 2 Corinthians 8, we read that the mother church in Jerusalem is in financial need - again. Paul writes to the Christians in Corinth to encourage them to make a gift to help their sisters and brothers in Jerusalem. He reminds them of the example of Jesus who, though we was rich, became poor, so that we might become rich, at least spiritually. Other churches, Paul says, have given generously, sacrificially, but the church in Corinth seems reluctant. Paul wants them to see that it is not right for them to have plenty – more than enough – while their sisters and brothers in Jerusalem are struggling. He points out that in the Old Testament story of God giving his people the manna in the desert – the bread from heaven – each had just enough bread to eat every day: no-one had too much and no-one had too little. That’s how it should be amongst us, he says: no one should have too much; no one too little. Amongst Christians there should be a level of equality, not vast inequality between rich and poor.
So there’s a Christian, biblical principle – there should be a degree of fairness and equality in the distribution of wealth – but how to turn that into politics? Some would see this as a socialist ethic: “from each according to their ability, to each according to their need” – to use a phrase popularised by a certain Karl Marx. (Historian Arnold Toynbee described communism as a Christian heresy; others have pointed out that Marxism and communism had their roots in Judaeo-Christian soil.)
Others would argue that the scripture points in favour of capitalism: if the Christians in Corinth hadn’t created wealth, they would not have generated a surplus from which to help meet the needs of their poorer sisters and brothers in Jerusalem. They would say this wealth needs to be created in order to trickle down to those less able to generate wealth.
Getting from a biblical or spiritual principle to a political application isn’t always straightforward: hence Tony Benn’s assertion that the Labour Party owed more to Methodism than it did to Marxism; and Margaret Thatcher’s use, on becoming Prime Minister, of the Prayer of St Francis. Both Benn and Thatcher claimed to draw inspiration from Christian teaching, but their applications were diametrically opposed in political terms.
Because of this, I have never felt that there could be a Christian political party – although we were given the opportunity of voting for The Christian Party in the recent European elections. There are plenty of Christians whom I love and respect, but whose political views I do not share. We may draw our inspiration from the same source, but we differ over how to apply those principles.
Nevertheless, it is a biblical principle that there should be a measure of equality: God has provided enough manna to feed us all. Why then do some of God’s children live with obscene wealth and others die in obscene poverty? According to UNICEF, nearly 10 million children under five years of age die each year from causes related to poverty. Peter Singer, in his book “The Life You Can Save”, points out that one billion people in the world have less to live on each day than we would spend on a bottle of water2. He argues that world poverty could be ended relatively easily, if those who had the wealth were prepared to give a modest proportion of it to help those who have none. If you have clean water coming out of a tap that you could drink, but you choose to buy bottled water, you have more money than you need – while there are people in the world who have no access to clean water. Singer is not a Christian, but his argument seems to me to be eminently biblical!
In Mark 5:21-43, we see Jesus healing two people – a woman suffering from haemorrhages and a child who has died. If we are familiar with the Gospel accounts, we are not surprised by these stories. We might be aware that, in Jesus’ own day, religious leaders had little to do with women and children, whereas Jesus’ own ministry valued and honoured both women and children. But we might miss the fact that his contact with both of these people – the woman with the haemorrhages and the child – compromised Jesus’ religious purity, according to the religious culture of his day. A woman who was bleeding was considered ritually unclean: to touch her was to become unclean yourself. (In the gospel we read that she touches him, rather than he laying hands on her, but Jesus affirms her as well and healed and tells her that she may go in peace.) Similarly, a corpse is ritually unclean and it makes you unclean to touch a dead person. Jesus takes the dead child by the hand and speaks to her, “Little girl, get up!”
A woman and a child – both are dangerous to Jesus’ religious purity. But that doesn’t stop Jesus reaching out to them, literally and spiritually, taking them by the hand and affirming them as God’s children.
From this we discern a biblical principle: the priority Jesus gives to those whom religion and society would exclude or marginalise. What would Jesus do? Reach out to those who are excluded, marginalised. How then should a Christian behave? What should the church do?
And how to apply this principle in the political realm? Again, that requires each of us to make a judgement, informed by biblical thinking and supported by prayer; but it is clear that when we vote and act, we are required to think what our voting and acting will do for those excluded and marginalised by our society.
It’s fair to say that today, those who seek and hold elected office are not exactly held in high esteem. In fact, the expenses scandal means that MPs have done the impossible and replaced bankers as the people we all love to hate. (It looks as though BBC executives might be next!) The biggest problem is when voters, or those who should be voters, say, “a plague on all their houses” and opt out. As we know, this simply opens the door to extremists. In my experience, local politicians are good people, committed to serving their communities – to making the world (or at least their part of it) a better place. We need those we elect to be clear about their principles. Those who seek to serve would do well to listen to the biblical principles of commitment to social justice and to the needs of those excluded and marginalised by society.
May God bless us – all of us – as we seek to love and serve Him in loving and serving the communities in which live.
Alan Jewell
28 June 2009
17 June 2009
14 June 2009
01 June 2009
09 September 2008
So, what sort of music do you like?
If you were to stop me in the street (I hope you won't: I'm very busy) and ask, "So, what sort of music do you like?", I would probably come back with a triumvirate of Bob Dylan, The Beatles and Eric Clapton. But the more I think about this list, the less satisfying it feels. To begin with, although I will readily confess that I spend more time listening to Bob Dylan than any other artist, I would hate you to think that I was a Bob Dylan Fan. A Bob Dylan Fan is someone who can tell you where and when Bob wrote and recorded each of his songs, why this version is better than that, and what shirt he was wearing at the time. I don't know any of that stuff. I just like the music.
Secondly, while I know a lot of Beatles songs, it is only relatively recently that I have listened to any Beatles albums. And that's an eye-opener, I can tell you. Of course, there are the Ringo sing-alongs with their deliberately limited vocal range to suit his limited voice. (So why do you let the drummer sing, for goodness sake?) And then there is George's deep and meaningless preachy eastern stuff. (I have never forgiven him for writing 'Taxman'. Poor George! He's so rich that the wicked system parts him from loads of his hard-earned money - while leaving him one of the richest people ever to have walked the face of the earth - before allowing him to go on and write another song about how materialistic everyone else is.)
And then you have Paul's kitchy, sentimental tin-pan alley side and John's occasional sheer nastiness ('Run For Your Life', anyone? Because he's rather see you dead, little girl, than to see you with another man. He's jealous, you see, little girl, and if he catches you, it's the end. Little girl. Nice thought, John!)
As I say, listening to Beatles albums is an eye-opener (ear-opener?).
And that leaves Eric Clapton. I say I like Eric Clapton because I want you to know that I play guitar and if I could play like Eric, I would. But I'm blowed if I can remember the last time I listened to an Eric Clapton album. (I could say the same about Jimi Hendrix.) And when I listen to any of the Clapton compilations, I'm always surprised at how much there is that I don't like. (And that includes Cream, I'm afraid.)
Which means I need a better answer to the question, "So, what sort of music do you like?" And, having thought about it, I think the answer goes something like this:
I like people who write songs, play musical instruments and sing in an interesting and engaging way. That's my new triumvirate.
06 June 2007
John Wesley, Donald Sinden, Avenue Q and Double Gloucester cheese...
So, it was school half-term holidays and we had a weekend in London and a few days at our home in Gloucester.
The trip to London was great, even though DW was there for work. Still, we took in a show: Avenue Q – not the most mature choice, I grant you, but, hey!, great fun. I spent the first 20 minutes grinning at the stage like a simpleton. Got a sharp reminder that we were in London when we ordered our half-time drinks. “Two gin & tonics, please.” “Singles or doubles?” We’re here to have fun so we order doubles. “That will be £13.50, please, sir.” £13.50! (That's $27!) You wouldn’t pay that for a tray-full of drinks round our way, I can tell you!
Our other London moment: we’re walking around theatreland and see an old bloke pressing the intercom on the door to get in to some building or other: “Hello? Is there somebody there?” I recognise the voice, but before I can put a name to it, he says to the unseen doorkeeper, “It’s Donald Sinden…” And it was. Sorry to be impressed, but I am.
I have Saturday to myself, as DW is working until 5:00pm, so I do something I would only do on my own: I visit the Museum of Methodism. Yes, there is one and it’s in City Road in the crypt of the chapel that John Wesley built in 1778 as his London base. You also get to walk around the house where he spent the last years of his life and where he died. Highlights include standing in the pulpit from which John and Charles preached, seeing John’s gown (he was 5’ 4” tall, you know) and Charles’s organ (Oooh! No, Matron!). I stand at John’s grave (and later buy a postcard of it. Is that weird?) His mother is buried in the Dissenters’ graveyard over the road and lies alongside other non-conformists: Daniel Defoe, John Bunyan and William Blake.
I also got to use the oldest working toilets in London: they bear the illustrious Crapper name on the bowl and cistern. And they do work.
Saturday evening we had dinner with friends and a splendid time was had.
On Sunday morning, as we didn’t have to go to church we did something quasi-religious: we went to the V&A to see the Kylie exhibition. She’s tiny, you know, Kylie. Saw her gold hotpants and the Showgirls tour costumes and that white cat suit thing from that video. Bought another postcard.
Spent the rest of the week (it was school half-term holidays, you know) in Gloucester, my home town. Visited St Mary-de-Crypt and stood in the pulpit from which George Whitefield preached. (He was a contemporary of the Wesleys and very influential on John, and had the greater impact in his day. And he was born and brought up in Gloucester. His parents had the Old Bell Inn in Southgate Street. He’s not much celebrated in Gloucester, sadly.)
Also did the Cathedral, obviously, including an exhibition about the extraordinary east window; had a cream tea in Bourton-on-the-water and visited the farm where Diana Smart makes the Double Gloucester cheeses that they roll down Cooper’s Hill. She also makes Single Gloucester – one of only four places that has the (cheese-making equivalent of) appellation controlee for Single Gloucester.
You see, we know how to have fun!
Deep joy,
Stratocastermagic
The trip to London was great, even though DW was there for work. Still, we took in a show: Avenue Q – not the most mature choice, I grant you, but, hey!, great fun. I spent the first 20 minutes grinning at the stage like a simpleton. Got a sharp reminder that we were in London when we ordered our half-time drinks. “Two gin & tonics, please.” “Singles or doubles?” We’re here to have fun so we order doubles. “That will be £13.50, please, sir.” £13.50! (That's $27!) You wouldn’t pay that for a tray-full of drinks round our way, I can tell you!
Our other London moment: we’re walking around theatreland and see an old bloke pressing the intercom on the door to get in to some building or other: “Hello? Is there somebody there?” I recognise the voice, but before I can put a name to it, he says to the unseen doorkeeper, “It’s Donald Sinden…” And it was. Sorry to be impressed, but I am.
I have Saturday to myself, as DW is working until 5:00pm, so I do something I would only do on my own: I visit the Museum of Methodism. Yes, there is one and it’s in City Road in the crypt of the chapel that John Wesley built in 1778 as his London base. You also get to walk around the house where he spent the last years of his life and where he died. Highlights include standing in the pulpit from which John and Charles preached, seeing John’s gown (he was 5’ 4” tall, you know) and Charles’s organ (Oooh! No, Matron!). I stand at John’s grave (and later buy a postcard of it. Is that weird?) His mother is buried in the Dissenters’ graveyard over the road and lies alongside other non-conformists: Daniel Defoe, John Bunyan and William Blake.
I also got to use the oldest working toilets in London: they bear the illustrious Crapper name on the bowl and cistern. And they do work.
Saturday evening we had dinner with friends and a splendid time was had.
On Sunday morning, as we didn’t have to go to church we did something quasi-religious: we went to the V&A to see the Kylie exhibition. She’s tiny, you know, Kylie. Saw her gold hotpants and the Showgirls tour costumes and that white cat suit thing from that video. Bought another postcard.
Spent the rest of the week (it was school half-term holidays, you know) in Gloucester, my home town. Visited St Mary-de-Crypt and stood in the pulpit from which George Whitefield preached. (He was a contemporary of the Wesleys and very influential on John, and had the greater impact in his day. And he was born and brought up in Gloucester. His parents had the Old Bell Inn in Southgate Street. He’s not much celebrated in Gloucester, sadly.)
Also did the Cathedral, obviously, including an exhibition about the extraordinary east window; had a cream tea in Bourton-on-the-water and visited the farm where Diana Smart makes the Double Gloucester cheeses that they roll down Cooper’s Hill. She also makes Single Gloucester – one of only four places that has the (cheese-making equivalent of) appellation controlee for Single Gloucester.
You see, we know how to have fun!
Deep joy,
Stratocastermagic
09 December 2006
02 October 2006
09 September 2006
24 August 2006
30 June 2006
18 May 2006
16 May 2006
06 May 2006
27 April 2006
08 April 2006
21 January 2006
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