Wishes

This post is not about anything or anyone specific. I was talking to my son James last week, and something like the following suddenly popped into my head. James was amused, so I thought I might share it more widely.

Wishes

• ... that fundamentalist Christians start reading the Bible more carefully;
• ... that liberal Christians learn to be tolerant;
• ... that traditionalist Christians get back to the heart of the matter;
• ... that atheists would not be quite so credulous;
• ... that post-modern Christians live more in today's world;
• ... that middle-of-the-road Christians practice being less narrow;

 ... and what might Jesus say? that we all start loving each other for who we really are?

We must improve ourselves!

About 28 years ago Catherine and I (engaged but not yet married) went round to dinner with a couple of friends. They were Greenbelt fans, and after dinner they played us a strange but compelling song from the festival, Muscle Music (first line: "We must improve ourselves") by Steve Fairnie and Writz. For me, it absolutely nailed the common Christian cult of inwardly-focussed perfectionism, the curious delusion and belief that somehow, in the teeth of all the evidence, we can raise ourselves up by our own bootstraps to be flawless and complete.

Here is a recording of the song on YouTube.

I remember talking to my old vicar, back when I was 15. I asked him how he was, and he said (with a wry smile), not as good as he should be. His consistent message was that it was all about grace. He once told us, when he was young he'd thought of God as a cosmic policeman, always keeping an eye on him to note when he didn't come up to scratch. And then, blessed relief, to realize that the truth that Jesus told us was that God was always there alongside us, running the race with us, all the way through the strain and the effort and the stumbles and the pratfalls. This from a man who worked tirelessly for the Gospel, routinely working 90-hour weeks.

Steve Fairnie must have been a most delightful and engaging man; a Christian who "had a healthy disregard for fundamentalism - if he thought you were at risk he might lay hands on your head to 'deliver' you".  I would have loved to have known him, but he died of an asthma attack in 1993.

The reason I am posting this now is that I just re-discovered Muscle Music on YouTube, nearly three decades later. And it still has that fresh and relevant challenging quality. If anything, it seems even more relevant in a new century, brimming with new clichés and manipulative phrases.

I would have loved to have known Steve Fairnie. But, after all, that's part of the promise of Heaven. Here and now, from time to time, Catherine and I will spontaneously burst into ironic song: "We must, we must, we must improve ourselves!".

Time

Three things about time.

I have just returned from 10 days away in the USA. Travelling is hard work: not much romance remains in intercontinental flight after 7 hours sitting cramped in a small seat trying not to be elbowed into the aisle by a very large man sitting next to me with a persistent sniff ... Seven hours is a long time, especially when one would rather be asleep. With self-discipline I can avoid looking at the time  / mileage page on the screen display for quarter of an hour, maximum. That makes 28 times I checked our current position on the little map. Time doesn't fly when you're flying.

I learned a different lesson about time at the workshop I attended in Columbus, Ohio. I was down to speak last. They said this was because they expected a masterly survey. I suspect the real reason was, fewer early leavers would complain if they missed me rather than other speakers. Whatever. The two speakers before me on the Friday morning both over-ran, and one could sense that people were getting edgy about missing their planes. So I announced right at the start of my talk that I would finish early - just 50 minutes, not the full hour. The resulting sense of relief was palpable, the applause when I finished at the exact predicted instant was gratifying. And the plan also enabled me to deal with distracting off-topic questions during the talk - yes I could answer your question now, but you want me to finish on time don't you ... Good timing is a promise kept.

And the third thing about time. In Columbus I met two friends once again, whom I first met 25 years ago when Catherine and I made a grand tour of some US and Canadian Universities, towing around our one-year-old son. I've only met Peter and Martha on two other occasions, though we've stayed in touch at the Christmas card level. And now we met again, had a couple of meals together, and it was so good. We've quoted Peter from time to time in church talks (a fact that would greatly surprise him); when we first met he commented that the surprising thing about people was that they lived their lives on the basis that nothing would change, when in fact change was the one fact of which they could be absolutely sure. A true word indeed, but I was struck by how vivid and fresh our friendship remains. My heart is warmed by this connection through time.