flagging faith

What next for reform?

2011-05-08T14:26:00.000+01:00

Followers of my tweets or fb updates will not be surprised that I am relieved at the outcome of the recent referendum on the electoral system. I am not a fan of referendums since the underlying question is always ‘Do you like/agree with the government?’ and even despite a split in the current government’s position on the issue, this was still a huge part of the reaction. Without going into all the accusations and assertions made by both campaigns, I am not pessimistic about reform and think there is room for change in the reasonably near future. This is not, in my view, a ‘once in a generation’ issue because, quite frankly, these days nothing is. The nature of media scrutiny and the increased accessibility of all public figure, especially politicians, mean that the ‘half-life’ of issues (and governments!) is shortening year on year. Of course the Lib Dems forgot the golden rule of referendums – never hold a referendum until you are sure of the answer!

In the short-term, what have we lost? Obviously, we have lost AV as an alternative to FPTP. This is fantastic news – it is not PR and should never have been marketed as such. I think there was, in part, a reaction against tinkering as the answer to demands for reform. When it returns, we need to give people a real option.

I think we have also lost the opportunity for a fully democratic House of Lords. The preferred option of the Progressive Left was an Upper House based on PR but how can this stand when it would create a more representative chamber than the Commons? We are already seeing an increase in bolshiness from peers – more democratic legitimacy will be grist to their mill. So where does that leave reformers? Do we press on in the hope that any gridlock will force a change in the way we elect the Commons? Or do we leave well enough alone until the Commons is reformed for fear of being stuck with a compromise no-one wants?

I was struck by something Shirley Williams said in response to the failure of the referendum. For the UK outside England, FPTP is now only used for the Westminister election. This has been the case for N Ireland for over three decades and for Scotland and Wales almost since devolution. There is a real sense in which FPTP is an English system of democracy and may become discredited as such. Having said that, because of the Labour Party, all parts of the UK have now experienced at least one form of PR – STV for Europe and in N Ireland, AMS or Additional Vote for Scotland, Wales and London. If there is to be a change in Westminster, we must embed and increase voters’ experiences of PR so that they can weigh up the pros and cons for themselves.

So what can be achieved in this Parliament? We could start with the system for the European Parliament. Why not move to an ‘open list’ system, as in the Senate elections in Australia, with voters given the option of choosing individuals as well as parties? We could retain an ‘above the line’ vote where voters can also choose a party instead of individuals. A small change – and bigger ballot papers – but an important response to voters’ wishes.

Secondly, why not enable local authorities in England and Wales, to adopt a form of PR for local and mayoral contests? As Labour allowed local referendums to change to directly-elected mayors, surely the Tory-led government could do more than pay lip-service to their localism agenda, and provide enabling legislation to this effect in terms of voting system. Most wards are already multi-member making it ideal for STV rather than having to explain time and again that voters have three votes!

And we could embrace Billy Bragg’s suggestion for the Upper House in the short-term and allow for say 80-90% of the Lords to be appointed in proportion to amount of overall party support at the General Election. The introduction of minimum quotas would ensure extremists are kept out and doing on a 4-nations basis would allow for Nationalists and N Ireland parties to be fairly respresented. The remaining 10-20% could be appointed as expert crossbenchers by commission established by the House itself. Take out the ministers, abolish select committees from the Lords and replace it with ministers appearing from the Commons to answer questions on the floor of the Chamber, reduce the number to half the size of the Commons and restrict its number of sitting days so that members can retain outside professional commitments.

It’s not perfect, it’s not democratic in the true sense, but it would enable the work of the Upper Chamber to continue in a more transparent and legitimate way.

The referendum last Thursday should have been about the failures of FPTP. Instead it became about AV as a ‘miserable little compromise’ and the leadership of Nick Clegg. But we’re not back to square one on reform. With a bit of imagination we can see change for the better before this Parliament is out.

Long live the Queen?

2011-04-30T20:39:00.000+01:00

Jonathan Freedland’s article in today’s Guardian (http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2011/apr/30/royalty-british-attitude-patriotism) was the proverbial straw and has inspired me to rant, sorry, write. I am heartily fed up with the coverage of the past few days and the faux analysis of what this means for the UK as a monarchy.

Don’t get me wrong – I fully expect William Mountbatten-Windsor to become Head of State in about 20 years’ time. But this will be, not because of universal acclamation, but overwhelming constitutional lethargy among the populace. We are so lethargic about the Constitution in this country, we can’t even be bothered to write it down! Given that it has been over a century since the Parliament Act and we are not that much closer to the elected Upper House it envisaged, I do not really think there will be more than tweeking to the process of selecting a Head of State. I imagine we’ll get some movement on equal opps for women in the succession, though I doubt the anti-Catholic stuff will be removed any time soon. The Mountbatten-Windsors will also probably ditch some of the hangers-on and become more user-friendly. But they will do this in order to remain the go-to family for position of Sovereign.

If inertia were not enough – and it generally is – then royalty brings an added dimension. It provides for us the British version of the American dream, especially now a non-royal has joined the ranks. Just like the ‘people’s peers’ that now adorn the red benches in the Lords, the British class system has injected the idea of merit into hierarchy. If we work hard and succeed, we too can be elevated to the upper eschelons of society and be the recepients of appropriate deference. No need to worry that meritricious Lords and Ladies are that for life, whilst the proper toffs are titled forever, remember that it could be you!

And of course merit can be retrospective apparently. So much is made of Elizabeth Montbattern-Windsor’s excellent record in the top job. Yet her experience is used to endorse the method of her appointment, that somehow she must have been qualified in the first place. Rather does it not show that anyone can do the job, given the proper induction? The only qualification the current incumbent had was being born first, so unless we continue to buy into an idea that genetics or breeding have a role to play, then why not open it up to others?

Okay, rant over. England will continue to have its Royals and the rest of us will put up with them. God save the Queen!

The name's Miliband ... David Miliband

2010-09-06T16:31:00.000+01:00

After much deliberation, I've decided to plump for David for the leadership of the Labour party. Up to the last moment, I was wavering and still am not 100% sure. As I said to the volunteer who phoned me a couple of weeks ago: 'I like what Ed Miliband says, but I prefer the way David says it.' David is obviously the most Prime Ministerial of the candidates on offer and, should we need a 'good to go' in the next twelve months (and we way well do), he's the one. I know he has been slow off the mark in terms of addressing a serious critique of New Labour, but if he had weighed in earlier, there would have been at least as much criticism from the same quarter and accusations of treachery or opportunism. He has managed to keep us on task in his campaign, focussing attention on the need to build and maintain a narrative with the majority of voters in the country. He wants to rebuild the party and energise local activists. And I think he is a break with his predecessor and so won't engage in a vindictive purge of his former opponents from this contest. So the Party will continue to benefit from the insights of Ed M and Ed B as well as Diane A and even Andy B (God help us!) The first fruits of that 'broad church' approach are already clear - David's tranfers of nominations to allow Diane Abbott to stand for the leadership has brought a different voice to these whole proceedings and allowed for a wider, more critical, debate on the issues. I trust that magnanimity and eye for the bigger picture to see us to a new debate within the Party and a new conversation with the voting public.

Ed Miliband has been a fantastic part of this campaign and certainly speaks my language. That won't be wasted, I'm sure, and his ideas will continue to transform the Party in its campaigning and policy-making. But it feels that David just has that little bit extra needed to be our leader.

Bloody Sunday

2010-06-16T14:52:00.000+01:00

The publication of the Saville Enquiry Report into the events of Bloody Sunday marks the end of, or at least a significant milestone in, a long and tortuous journey that began over 38 years ago. I was barely a month old when it happened and the trouble with growing up in Northern Ireland was that we neither lived through it nor learnt about it. So it was left to propagandists from both communities to tell pass their loaded and partial narratives off as truth to young people who knew no better. In the cacophany of counter-narratives, the simple, incontrovertible fact of thirteen dead at the scene and one four months later, seemed to get lost. The 'Ah, but sure' brigades swung into operation, condemning the violence, regretting the deaths, but also reminding the spectators that our side had it bad too.

I am an Ulster Protestant and my upbringing told me whose side I was on. At one month old on 30 January 1972, I was with the paras. They were fighting for me, to keep me safe from agitators and ne'er-do-wells seeking to rob me of my religion, rights and respect. In the battle for survival, lives are lost, sacrifices are inevitable. Those who live by the sword ....

But I am a mixed up Ulster Protestant, one who read some Irish history and came to a different conclusion from the expectation of my tribe. Does the fact that I carry an Irish passport mean I am now with the marchers from the Bogside? Was this a victory for me or a defeat? Am I the victim or the perpretrator?

I do know I feel a sense of shame today, ashamed that this happened on the streets of a place I call home and more ashamed that attempts were made to cover it up. Of course it's good news that the truth has come out, albeit 38 years later, but that is cold comfort given the enormity of that truth. It is hard to comprehend anyone - soldier or not - giving an order to gun down unarmed civilians. Harder still to appreciate the abject terror of being shot at and watching others die. To be confronted with the horror of that day leaves me angry as well as shocked. Not only how could this have happened in the first place, but how could the cover-up have gone on so long?

One community in the north of Ireland will take solace from yesterday's report and may see it as a victory of sorts; the other community is still smarting from its findings. But at least the truth is out and, if it can be faced without resort to violence or retribution, then maybe progress has been made.

Wither Methodism?

2010-02-21T18:45:00.003Z

David Campton raises some very interesting issues in his blog 'Putting two coffins together?', some of which I have already commented on in another format.

What is there to add? I suppose I want to register a sense of deep disappointment with both the lack of progress on any substantive issues to do with the relationship between Methodists and Anglicans, and the way the so-called covenant is perceived. Media coverage of the speech of the President of Conference at the Church of England Synod highlighted the widespread ignorance. Stephen Bates of the Guardian suggested, for example, that Methodism wanted to join the Anglican Communion and that a covenant was a future hope rather than a present reality. If someone of the calibre of Stephen Bates can get it so wrong, what hope for the rest? Reporting such as this only serves to increase the fears of people like me who are committed to ecumenism where it is based on honesty, integrity, mutual respect and a concern for mission. What we have here is a form of ecumenism that is based on a complete lack of mutuality and a commitment only to ecclesiology. If the momentum continues to move negotiations in the current direction, I fear that Methodists will be placed in an extremely difficult position. We will be asked to accept forms of polity that call the authenticity of our own history into question and be forced to distance ourselves from other Methodists. The new ecclesiastical body will claim to be both Anglican and Methodist, but this will be lip service.

Is there an alternative? Yes, of course there is. The Porvoo Agreement between British and Irish Anglicans and Scandinavian Lutherans is an excellent model of ecumenism for mission. Furthermore, United Methodists in Scandinavia and in the US are either in a similar relationship with Lutherans or just about to enter into one. This allows for a mutual recognition and the freeing of resources to be deployed more effectively for mission where it counts.

I completely understand the need for Anglicans to hang onto their ecclesiology. But please don't inflict it on Methodists - we think about Christian discipleship differently and, if you think we are deficient in some way, why bother dealing with us at all?

A Single Man?

2010-02-20T09:50:00.000Z

Tom Ford's movie is utterly stunning and sometimes I wondered whether I was in a gallery rather than a cinema. Why is it, then, that I felt feeling somehow dissatisfied?

Is it because the idea that a gay man could fall in love, sustain a relationship and suffer a bereavement is not one we need to articulate anymore? Films like 'Philadelphia' were needed at the time in order to humanise the gay community and particularly those of us living with HIV/AIDS. Whilst we might want to critique that particular offering, it did at least offer a picture of a gay man as a person with feelings and family.

We have moved a long way since the early nineties. The film 'Milk' has helped to plot that journey in giving us a glimpse of past hatreds and a heroic image of a gay man. We had moved from tragedy to empowerment ...

There is a feeling that Tom Ford has taken us back to the idea of the gay man as ultimately tragic. I found I couldn't get to know the main protagonist enough to empathise with him or really understand the motives for his actions. But more than that, I am left struggling to understand what this film says about now. Are we supposed to thank our lucky stars that we do not live in those bad old days? Is there a hint that the old hatreds are rearing their ugly heads again (or, worse still, never really went away)?

Having said all that, there were points in the film where I was genuinely touched by the beauty of the love portrayed. And I'm thankful for that.

entering no man's land

2010-01-17T16:07:00.003Z

After a substantial absence from the blogosphere, worship this morning has propelled me back into cyberspace. It would be wrong to identify the church and preacher, suffice it to say that it was a large Methodist church serving a university town. I went expecting a reasonably staid, intellectually stimulating act of worship. What I got made me feel I was in a suburban Baptist congregation: trite choruses, sung badly, hands down for coffee worshippers, preacher as continuity announcer rather than leader of worship, 20 minute sermon full of banalities and prejudices which could have been preached thirty years ago. The only upside was the chance to contribute to the Christian Aid appeal for Haiti which, incidentally, was barely mentioned, including in the prayers. I felt staying for coffee would have been excruciating with my having to make at least 75% of the effort at any conversations, so I went to Costa instead.

This experience forces me again to ask questions about my ecclesiastical identity, a posh way of asking where my spiritual home might be. This is a more complicated question than you might think, for I am pulled in three or more different directions. Theologically speaking, I am more than comfortable in the Methodist/Wesleyan stream of thought. Evangelical Arminianism makes more and more sense to me, personally, and I am only surprised that so many seem ignorant of it. I am proud of our place in the worldwide church and the spirit of mission that drives us into conversations and covenants with those who are different. Above all, it is the centrepiece of Wesleyan understandings, namely that identity is derived from connexions, that continues to inspire and compel me in my life and vocation as a Christian, a father, a pastor, preacher and teacher.

Why is it then, that I feel more and more alienated from Methodism when it gathers for worship, the place where we open ourselves up to God's word of liberation and love again that we might see transformation in our own lives and the life of the world? I know what Methodist worship has always been a bit hit-and-miss and I am not harking back to a golden age. What depresses me is how 'thin' it seems to be these days, where Wesleyan hymns are expurgated or omitted to save congregations from being exposed to meaty theology. In an increasingly complex world, our liturgical response is at best simplistic and thus unable to equip people for an adequate discipleship. Speaking for myself - and I fully accept I am probably weird - I need a worship that helps me to engage with the world around me, challenges me to reflect for myself and with others on a proper Christian response, and encourages me to an ethical life. I also need to be exposed to the beauty of poetry, music and art as it seeks to give glory to God, for that will provide me with a vehicle for self transcendence. And I want dignity and integrity throughout. So I end up with certain Catholics, as a place where I hear Charles Wesley revered more often than in my own tradition, or certain Anglicans, where I am treated as a whole person in worship, not a disembodied voice box and ears.

But I know I don't belong there, I cannot 'become' as some would wish. I am too angered by English Anglicanism, their snobbery which counts Methodists only worthy of conversation when 'the big boys' don't want to play. A snobbery based entirely it seems on the very limited experience of English ecclesiastical life where establishment maintains the fiction of an Anglican membership in the tens of millions. I just can't get beyond the intellectual dishonesty on which the Church of England is built and so must simply remain a visitor, thankful for the hospitality when it's offered. Catholicism and Orthodoxy fill me with fascination and a greater intellectual satisfaction, but there remains a gap between us. Social teaching, homophobia, misogyny, and conformity all bricks in the barrier between us, but it is culture more than doctrine that divides.

So where does that leave me? Acknowledging that struggle is normative for religious life, that Christianity is about finding travelling companions and not a guest house. So I should not respond to the criticisms I receive from others for whom Methodism has become a fixed identity rather than an inner restlessness. I should rather, when I find wells of sweet water and drink deeply, be grateful to those who supply them, whatever their label.

japan 09 - day 10

2009-08-24T10:08:00.001+01:00

After three lovely home-cooked breakfasts, we were slightly sad to return to McDonald’s for our first morning in Hiroshima. We headed back to the station to catch the train and then ferry to the island of Miyajima; we weren’t alone! There was no fear, therefore, of getting lost on the way as we simply took our place in the human snake as it weaved its way from station platform to ferry terminal. A chance too for us to experience yet another form of Japanese public transport (though I feel a ten-minute ferry ride doesn’t do it justice). It does remind me of my late teens and the Larne-Stranraer crossing home although the scenery and weather were ‘slightly’ better.

Upon arrival, Dominic’s eyes lit up at the sight of wild deer roaming around the square outside the island’s ferry terminal building. If he was apprehensive at first, it was soon replaced with excitement (and we have dozens of pictures to prove it!) Another sizzling day had us hop from one shady spot to the next but this didn’t diminish our appreciation of the stunning scenery. The shrine for which Miyajima is famous was particularly beautiful, bright vermillion buildings set on the water’s edge surrounded by woods. But that wasn’t the highlight for us. Rather there seemed to be some sort of water sport going on as we rounded the corner, where about thirty men were in the bay trying to climb aboard a moving platform. After much trying, there was final success, and I wondered if this had some sort of religious significance akin to Robert the Bruce’s perseverance lesson at the hands of a Rathlin spider.

We left the island after lunch armed with some fried chicken and a rice spoon from the place where it was invented according to legend. (One wonders how rice spoons are invented and what preceded them, but who were we to argue having seen the world’s largest rice spoon on display in the main shopping area?)

Once back in Hiroshima, we decided to purchase some tickets for a baseball game in Osaka tomorrow evening, when the local Hiroshima team, the Carps, take on the Hansin Tigers. Where better to go than the brand-spanking new Mazda Stadium. Imagine our disappointment to arrive there – after a hot and sticky schlep – to find no tickets available. (We shall try our luck at the stadium tomorrow.)

A short iced tea stop revived us enough to allow us to explore our final, and most important, destination of the day: the Peace Park. I am always a little unsure how to engage with something like this as part of a tourist trip. It had been moving last night to see the iconic A-Bome Dome lit up against the night sky, albeit briefly. In daylight, it lost none of its power and the rest of the park was filled with momuments of different kinds. Only a fortnight or so before the park had been filled with people to commemorate the 6th August 1945 bombing and to light floating lanterns to be released on the river that evening in memory of the 140 000 who died within the first year of the bomb.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, either from the Peace Museum located at the base of the park. What we found was profound and deeply moving. For me, it was the scale model maps of the city immediately before and after the bomb was dropped, that provided the most shocking picture of the devastation. It is hard to comprehend the deaths of 80 000 people almost instantaneously, even more that so many survived with horrific injuries. But this is no museum in the usual sense – it has a very clear anti-nuclear message and is elequent in its delivery. I have been ambivalent for most of my life about the existence and purpose of nuclear weapons, just embibing the messages of necessary deterrance promulgated during the Cold War era. A visit to Hiroshima, confronted with the images of a devastation wreaked on a city by a weapon so many times smaller than current warheads, pulled me up short. Is it the sheer power that discomforts me, or that nuclear weapons are specifically designed to annihilate civilian populations and not simply military targets? Add to this the fact that the nation who used this WMD was the most powerful democracy on the planet, not an evil empire or fascist state.

I left thinking that war should never be this easy. More people died in the fire-bombing of Tokyo then in Hiroshima, but not as the result of one bomb. If we want to kill in the name of cause or country, it should be much less clinical, tactical, yes, easy, especially when it is civilians who are targeted. The Mayor of Hiroshima invokes Obama to call for the complete eradication of these deeply immoral weapons from the face of the earth by 2020. Let’s hope it’s sooner.

Japan 09 - day 9

2009-08-24T10:07:00.000+01:00

As a write this entry I am almost wetting my pants with excitement at the type of Shinkansen we’re on! It’s shorter than the previous one, but apparently goes up to 300Kph! The seating is like first class on a plane and my ears are popping because we’re travelling so fast! I’m amused to because an announcement has just been made that there is a ‘silent’ coach which means no announements will be made!

Back to the day we’ve just had. We headed early to Kyoto station that is an architechtural wonder. High ceilings, with a garden on the roof, it is hugely impressive, like a modern St Pancras. Nearby was the monthly flea market around Toji Temple complex, so we made our way there to hunt for bargains. It was very hot, but we managed to make our way most of the way round. It was good to experience that mixture of market and temples, and we could almost imagine markets like this going on for centuries in the precincts of shrines.

The trip to Hiroshima was fast and we arrived before dark. The exciting news was our chance to experience one of my favourite forms of transport – trams! Luckily, we’d booked into a small hotel right opposite a tram stop, so we dumped our bags and headed out into town. Obviously, it’s a new city, at least in the centre, as most was completely wiped out on 6th August 1945. So we were confronted in a short walk with Hiroshima’s three main characteristics: bombs, baseball and boulevards.

The A-Bomb Dome at night was more moving than I thought, and I had to take a moment as I stood gazing at it. There was a stillness in the air and though a symbol of immense destruction, it was also eerily beautiful. I wondered what visiting the Peace Park during our stay would mean for me, and for Dominic. Opposite was the site of the old baseball ground and we hoped to pick up tickets during our stay in Hiroshima for a game in Osaka.

But before all that, we headed back along the wide boulevards to experience once again Japan’s thriving café culture. I don’t think I imagined the Japanese in coffee houses, drinking iced lattes and chatting with friends and colleagues. Maybe it was the pictures of tea ceremonies that clouded my view, but I was wrong. Cafés are everywhere with the usual range of beverages and afew more besides. Dom has become a fan of iced tea whilst I stick to the hot kind. Our favourite chain is Café Excelsior, far superior to Starbucks in a whole host of ways. People of all ages gather until late into the night to chat, smoke, and read. I love that iced water is on offer free of charge, and that patrons are expected to clear their tables as they leave. It is, in short, hugely civilised, but you would expect nothing less from the Japanese.

japan 09 - day 8

2009-08-23T14:39:00.001+01:00

A manic last full day in Kyoto before we head off to Hiroshima. After another lovely breakfast with our hosts, Keiko and Juno, we headed off to the Silver Pavilion. Officienados will be disgusted that, at this point, I admit we never got to the Golden Pavilion, but there’s only a certain amount of temple an eleven year old will stand. The heat forced us into another café, having missed the stop on the bus and needing to retrace steps. The place itself was rather touristy, and in the midst of renovation, but still utterly beautiful. Even the sticky heat couldn’t diminish the elegance and intricacy of the building design and garden layout. I cannot tire of Japanese gardens and realise again why it is that so many of the world’s great religious traditions depict the afterlife as a garden.

Our walk down the Philosopher’s Path was less inspiring. Another attack by an errant cicada and their incessant noise that deafens more than lulls rather detracted from the scene. Thankfully, we had fortified ourselves beforehand with a healthy dollop of green tea flavoured ice cream.

Much walking and a cooling subway ride later, we pitched up at the Nijo Castle, former home of the Tokugawa Shoguns who ruled Japan up to the mid-19th century. For hundreds of years, this clan had dominated political and military life, reducing the emperor to a puppet. The castle was double-moated (eat your heart out, Douglas Hogg) and we were even able to look inside, albiet unshod, which led to a rather nasty toe-stubbing for Dom. The guidebooks tell with some glee that it was in this Castle that the Emperor Meiji received the formal surrender of the final Shogun in the 1860s, restoring power to the monarchy. No wonder then that he almost immediately removed the capital to Tokyo.

Our final stop of the day was the International Manga Museum, a new museum founded in part by a local university. What an amazing idea! The walls of the former primary school were completely lined with manga books, including a section in various foreign languages, for visitors to take and read at their leisure in one of the many reading areas or outside on the astroturfed lawn. The exhibits were pretty pants, but the scene of dozens of children and students, parents, grannies and grandas sat, lain or sprawled over the place, reading, would bring a tear to the eye of any teacher. I even read my first manga! It would be an understatement to say this is a phenomenon, but does highlight the fact that Japan has been a highly literate society for over 250 years. Reading, apparently, has never been seen as an elite pursuit, in fact almost the opposite. One book I read said that in the 1950s surveys showed that about 80% of the population wrote haiku. 80%! But it also said that over 90% of the population watch at least three and a half hours of TV per day.

I continued to ponder the relation between literacy, TV and mange as I slurped my way through a bowl of soba noodles downtown before heading back for the final night in Keiko’s house.

japan 09 - day 7

2009-08-23T14:38:00.000+01:00

It’s cycling day in Kyoto! Well, for us anyway. We couldn’t resist the idea of spending the day on two wheels, especially since it only costs £3 to hire one of the entire day (shop closes at 12.30am!)

We got fitted out and headed to our 10am appointment at the Imperial Palace. The tour was huge (100+ people) and the guide delightful, even in the baking heat. Sadly, because the Emperor still uses part of it, we only saw it from the outside, but even then it was deeply impressive. I am still not convinced about living at ground level as, even from an early age, I couldn’t sit cross-legged in school assembly. But I suppose you would cope if you never had a chair to sit on…. This is where the emperors were enthroned, save for the current one, who had the thrones helicoptered to Tokyo for the ceremony in 1990.

We survived the hour-long tour, unwilted ourselves with a bottle of ‘Sweat’ and rode to the riverbank. Apparently the dyeing industry virtually destroyed the river with pollution but the city council engaged in a restoration campaign about twenty years ago. The result is a lovely bankside path with little parks and rest-stops, and lots of stepping stone crossings. The heat meant our afternoon was spent hanging out in lovely cafes before retiring to the river for sunset. It was utterly blissful to watch Dominic and other kids playing on the stepping-stones, trying to compete with the herons and egrets in fishing. It was almost worth the mosquito bites!

The evening meal was sourced locally, close to our B&B. Dominic and I tucked into a steaming bowl of curry rice topped with chicken and prepared for the following day.

Japan 09 - day 6

2009-08-23T14:36:00.001+01:00

A leisurely breakfast at the station preceded our first journey aboard the Shinkansen, the Bullet Train! I know I am beginning to sound like a nerdy trainspotter, but I couldn’t have believed how beautiful it was both inside and out. Like a sleek white and blue eel, it slid into the station to our platform. Inside it felt more like an aircraft than a train. No narrow walkways but wide aisles with large seats and plenty of legroom. Exactly on time, we pulled out of the station and were soon whizzing through the countryside at over 150 mph, covering the 330 miles to Kyoto in under three hours. This is rail travel as it should be.

Early afternoon and we arrived in downtown Kyoto and immediately headed for our bed and breakfast. I had booked this online and so wasn’t sure what to expect. Down a back alley, behind a row of restaurants near Kyoto University, we found the place we would call home for the next few days: a genuine, typical Japanese home. Our hosts, Keiko and Juno were there to greet us and help us settle in. The house itself was compact to say the least, without much furniture but everything in its place. It is a salutary reminder how little we actually need to live comfortably, though I am not looking forward to living life at ground level for the next few days. But what a chance to see how Japanese people really live!

We decided to stroll around our part of Kyoto to get our bearings. What a lot of bikes! Is this because we’re near university, or is this a Kyoto thing? I now understand why Japanese language students were such a menace on the streets of Cambridge. Bike riding not only shares the pavement with pedestrians, but also only seems to have a front light. Still, with typical Japanese respect, there seem to be few accidents. Dominic has also noticed how many ‘boxy’ cars there are on the roads. Lots of cars like the Nissan ‘Cube’, which looks a bit like, well, a cube. What is going on with car design? Am I being too cynical in suggesting that this is the latest rouse from the car companies to overcome opposition from the environmental lobby? Instead of attracting buyers with the lure of sex appeal, now cars look entirely functional, allowing car owners to argue that their usage is based entirely on need rather than desire.

We stayed on foot for the day and, after booking our tour of the Imperial Palace via the Imperial Household Agency Office, headed for a café recommended in the Rough Guide. Near the Imperial Gardens, the café seemed to have a confusing advertising strategy, with a welcome in French and a street sign from Oxford Street, London. Dom employed the ‘when in Rome’ policy for food and settled down to a croque monsieur!

The rest of the evening was spent exploring the city, wandering down narrow streets near the river, and through the vibrant shopping area, when we came across a political rally. Japan goes to the polls in a general election on August 30th and, unlike most elections for the past fifty years, it may lead to a change of government. The Democratic Party of Japan (Labour) is poised to take over 300 seats in the 480 Lower House of the Diet giving it power for only the second time in half a century. The last time they beat the Liberal Democratic Party (Tories), their government last only a year! Despite winning a landslide four years ago, the LDP have squandered their majority, with four prime ministers in as many years. The current leader, Aso, was popular with the Party but has been a disaster among voters (sound familiar?)

The rally we watched was the leader of the Japanese Communist Party which may form part of the coalition in the next month or so. Though the next few weeks will be momentous, politically, it is hard to sense the prevailing mood. There have been lots of vans with loudhailers plying their wares in the busy shopping areas, and posters everywhere, but little evidence otherwise.

The Japanese political system of proportional representation does give the lie, of course, to the idea that PR produces unstable governments, with the LDP having rules almost continuously since the war. They use the Alternative Vote system with constituency and list members, a system I have previously pooh-poohed as less fair. I am now warming to it, in that it does create two categories of member which might prove useful. One would hope, for example, that the list might allow for a greater balance of candiates from under-represented groups. It would also allow for a small group of professional politicians to be elected who are released from constituency responsibilities. So, for example, Cabinet ministers, if constituency members could ‘swap’ with list members during their tenure to ensure adequate representation of those constituents. It could also be that those experts drafted into government at the moment through peerages, could be placed on the lists instead, or could serve in a part-time Senate. It has the advantage of retaining the constituency link whilst providing proportionality. My concern is, of course, that the lists are stuffed with hacks and has-beens looking for a cushy number, but we must relie on the parties using them properly. One way is to ensure open lists with ‘above the line’ voting, as in Australian Senate elections, where voters have the choice of voting for a party or individual candidates.

All that from one political rally!

japan 09 - day 5

2009-08-21T09:53:00.000+01:00

I know this is becoming a familiar refrain, but Monday morning brings me back to the subject of trains and customer service. We decided to go straight to Tokyo’s main station to book our rail passes and perhaps our first train to Kyoto leaving tomorrow. Not only were we able to do that, and be allocated seats and car numbers and the platform from which the train would leave, but within five minutes we had our other trains for Hiroshima and Osaka in the rest of the week also in our hands! Lord Adonis – please bring this level of service to the UK. Please!

The rest of the day was split in two between the Tokyo Sea Life Park and Akihabara, better known as ‘Electric Town’. It was another scorching day, so the air conditioning on the train was very welcome as we travelled to the west of the bay. Avoiding more of the seaside tackiness encountered yesterday at the Tower, we sped straight for the great glass dome that housed the aquarium. I say ‘sped’, though in the 30+ heat and humidity, it was probably more a hunched and sweaty crawl. This was more than made up for by what we saw. Enormous tanks greeted us full of hammerhead sharks, rays and enormous tuna of various kinds. They were places in circular tanks so they swam around us as we descended into the deep. Beneath the ground, we were presented with dozens of different tanks full of typical fish from every ocean of the world. One of our personal favourites was the Antarctic Ocean display with a tank at barely above freezing.

Despite the adorable penguins and terrapins, it was the gigantic tuna that remained firmly in my mind. Strangely beautiful as light glinted off dorsal fins that appeared to have been decorated in gold leaf, yet oversized, bloated even with massive bodies and ugly faces. A fish, though, with which the Japanese have an close connection, for not only could you purchase cuddly tuna toys in the gift shop on the way out, but tuna cutlets were high on the menu in the aquarium restaurant (delicious, by the way!)

A ferry ride and monorail trip later, we were in central Tokyo trying to negotiate our way to the right train to Akihabara when the legendary hospitality kicked in. A complete stranger approached us as we scoured the map and led us virtually by the hand to the correct train and stop. We were in Electric Town, an area of Tokyo crammed full of shops and stall selling the latest in electronic gadgetry, some at knowdown prices. Dominic was in his element and soon managed to get me to part with some cash. Again, I am led to question the idea that the Japanese attitude to electronics is ambivalent, though it strikes me as very strange how few shops and restaurants take credit cards.

A delicious japanese curry fortified us for our return to the hotel for the final night’s sleep in Japan’s capital.

Japan 09 - day 4

2009-08-21T09:50:00.000+01:00

The jet lag finally caught up with us today and we had a major lie in: Dominic would have slept for another three or four hours happily.

Today is the chance to catch up with an old friend from Cambridge days. Ashley now works as a partner for Allen Overy Japan and has been based in Tokyo for the past eighteen months. This gave us the chance to go to Roppongi Hills, an increasingly chi chi part of town and his office is based in one of the tallest buildings in the city.

On the way to see Ash, we also call in on Tokyo Tower, a 1950s replica of the Eiffel Tower, though taller (and painted red and white). This is our first major encounter with Japanese tackiness, with all the plastic one would normally associate with the British seaside - truly dreadful. However, next door to the tacky tower is one of the most beautiful temples in Tokyo. We meandered through the garden and found ourselves – eventually – in wonderful complex of Zo-jo Temple.

A lot has been written about Japanese religion and yet it still remains confusing to those schooled in Western ideas. Whilst recent surveys revealed only about a third of Japanese people professed a ‘personal religion’ (is that itself a particularly Western Protestant Christian idea?) over 80% take part in some sort of religious ritual each year. There is, of course, the huge controversy over the revival of Shintoism in the mid-19th century to bind the country together around reverence for the Emperor. Some suggest that it was this deeply patriotic emperor-cult that gave the vicious militarism of Nanking, Manchuria and the PoW camps of WWII a philosophical veneer, if not foundation. Religion is certainly present in the city and the shrines and temples are never empty of people of all ages. Perhaps we need to recalibrate our ideas of what constitutes religiosity.

A swift subway journey to Roppongi and we moved from ancient reverence and peace to the bustle of contemporary consumerism. We entered Mori Tower via the swich escalators to be faced with Maman, one of those huge spider sculptures by that French guy. Ash met us to have lunch in a great sushi conveyor belt place before returning to work (he has embibed deeply the Japanese work ethic!) We, on the other hand, head (in an ear-popping elevator) to the 52nd floor to find the art gallery, observatory and aquarium. Whilst I don’t get too close to the edge (or head out to the sky deck!) my fear of heights is kept in check and we are subjected to quite breathtaking views across the city. Dominic particularly loves the laser beams shot through the tanks of jellyfish and illuninating them in different colours. I appreciate the trendy Sunset Café on the west side of the building.

Sunset brings us back to the centre of Tokyo, to the Ginza shopping district. We head to the Apple and Sony stores to see the latest things. Whilst the hands on, ‘please touch’ attitude of the Apple stores in the UK is novelle, perhaps even unique, in Japan it is the norm. They want customer interaction; appreciate the immediate feedback it gives. This is another aspect of the child-friendliness, for there’s no need to hold children back, keep a constant eye. What a relief!

After all this exertion, we are in need of food. We land in a restaurant near that famous multiple zebra crossing but our Japanese lets us down and we end up with iced noodles, tiny portions of shiitake mushrooms and a smoker at the next table. Dominic was not amused!

Japan 09 - day 3

2009-08-20T01:16:00.002+01:00

Surely only in Japan would you have a ‘museum’ dedicated to emerging science and engineering. I wasn’t expecting much but thought we should go to at least one museum on the way to the Panasonic Center in Odaiba, a reclaimed island in Tokyo Bay. It was the Center that seemed to offer more, at least according to the guide. Well, how wrong was I? The Museum was truly spectacular, from the huge globe with up-to-date satellite images suspended in the main entrance, to the seismographs measuring how much the building we were in was shaking. The highlight for Dominic was the various forms of computer games, for me the idea of plastic that conducts electricity and the living capsule (complete with loo) from the International Space Station.

The museum was full of young children – and I mean young – out for the day with parents and grandparents during what is the holiday week. The museum had teaching labs and I passed one full of eight-year old boys learning about robotics. Whilst I love the Science Museum in London, it comes across as deeply patronising in comparison. There was no sense here that science was dull or boring, or that you had to pander to the lowest common denominator in order to engage. I came away feeling that I had genuinely learnt something new. No wonder Japanese kids are streets ahead.

I find the visit to the museum, and to the Panasonic Center nearby, where all the latest Nintendo games and consoles are on display, puzzling in the light of what I’ve been reading about Japanese attitudes to technology. It is hard to square what I see with the idea that the Japanese are at best ambivalent to gadgets and do not consider it necessary to have devices that are ‘labour-saving’. Is this really true – are Japanese homes devoid of such things?

I was also struck by the way children are present in society. It all feels very natural and normal to have children around in most places. I don’t feel self-conscious travelling with an eleven-year old and entry fees are either waved completely or at least half that of an adult. But neither are there the trantrums and screaming I so associate with children in public in Britain. I have been reading a little about Japanese child rearing and how intense the relationships are between parents and children, and I can see the warmth and attention lavished on them. The idea is that because Japanese culture is so interdependent and selfishness so abhorred, it is okay to indulge children early on because of later socialisation. It is truly endearing to watch.

Which brings me to politeness. Dominic and I decided to brave the public transport system to get to Odaiba, which meant the new monorail system. It was a complete dream! No pushing or shoving in the queue to get to the platform, just a gentle flow; once on the platform, people actually formed queues near the doors for the train to arrive. The train was an ultra-modern DLR and whisked us at speed across the Rainbow Bridge to our destination. With the volume of Tokyo’s population, the idea that London operates the way it does because of numbers is simply blown out of the water. Maybe the Japanese child-rearing thing does work?

Japan 09 - day 2

2009-08-19T13:41:00.000+01:00

Is it still 13th or 14th? We arrive at 9am local time and both of us are disoriented (no pun intended!) I know the masked officials at the airport are just trying to be cautious in the light of Swine Flu, but please! Nothing like a man in a uniform and a mask to breed panic and fear. Having said that, I am giving the pandemic more credence by spelling it with capital letters? Who knows …?

We head to the basement to board our first train into the city centre, stopping on the way to buy our Suica cards (the equivalent of oyster cards but abe to be used in vending machines) and a refreshing isotonic drink called ‘Sweat’. (This drink will continue to cause a giggle or two well into the holiday!) The train arrives and departs exactly on time and is cool, spacious and comfortable. It zips through the countryside from Narita Airport to the city centre, past buildings old and new, whilst Dominic now tries to catch up on the sleep he refused to take during the flight.

An hour later we’re in Tokyo Station (Dom is sleepwalking by this stage). The original station was built in the early part of the 20th century and is currently undergoing major restoration. Hence the difficulties we had navigating our way to the surface, as we meandered our way through shopping centres to the fresh air. Our first impressions were not positive. Hot, sticky, confusing is how Tokyo appeared on this Friday mid-morning. In the midst of our culture-shock, we sought refuge in something familiar – Starbucks! Dom fell asleep whilst I scoured the Rough Guide trying to find our bearings in order to get us to the hotel. I settled on a taxi as the best option and dragged poor Dom back to the station to pick up a cab.

What can I say about Japanese taxis? They don’t seem to have changed their design for decades and I am reminded of Diamonds are Forever or You Only Live Twice. As we approach, the back door automatically swings open, as does the boot. We clamber inside to find air-conditioned bliss, seats covered in what looks like a tablecloth, and a driver in white cotton gloves and a tie. He is at first dubious about our destination but soon heads off into the Tokyo traffic. The drive takes us past the Imperial Palace and Government Buildings to the Shinbashi area of town. Though I am, by nature, averse to travel by taxi (mainly on expense grounds), it is tempting to explore this option more in the current climate. I … must … resist ….

Too early to check-in we dump the bags and head, on foot, to explore our local area. Fifty yards from the hotel is a Shinto shrine, entered by a huge flight of steep stairs. At the top, we are met with a beautiful garden and a pond teaming with the most enormous fish that are apparently considered lucky. There are some people around, given that we have arrived during the festival where the spirits of the dead return to their families for a couple of days. I feel thankful to be a monotheist where ghastly family gatherings stop after the funeral!

By the time Dom and I have checked in, showered and slept, it’s dark. There doesn’t seem to be the equivalent of BST and, given the strength of the sun this time of year, who can blame them. We head off, again on foot, this time to the area around the station. It is pretty full of people getting off work, young people hanging out, sales assistants in the shops screaching on loudhailers. The neon signage is dazzling and we wander around to find a café for a bite. After many attempts to discover something authentically Japanese, we settle on a Spaghetti House which, when you think about it, is like noodles!

Exhausted, dazzled, hot and sticky, we stumble back to our hotel to fall into bed – day one in Japan over.

Japan 09 - day 1 Getting there

2009-08-16T16:32:00.001+01:00

So the day has finally arrived when we set off for Japan. Overcome by a sense of underpreparedness and, despite some great advice from friends, it feels like I’m entering completely unknown territory. This is only exascerbated by the fact that I’m taking an eleven year old with me, paternal protection a pipe dream in a place where the parent is all at sea.

For once the tubes all align and we are at check-in with plenty of time to spare. No queuing, only the ridiculous security checks hold us up. We arrive at the gate at the time requested only to be immediately ushered on board and into our seats. What’s going on? I’ve never had such a smooth bed-to-boarding journey in my life! Let’s hope this bodes well for the rest of the trip.

The flight is a little bumpy for my liking. I find myself getting more anxious about flying these days and short haul are a particular chore. Dominic is getting more and more excited and not just by the fact we have free food on the flight.

We have a stopover in Helsinki of a couple of hours. Dominic remarks on the number of trees as we fly over the Finnish countryside – can one have too many pine trees? The airport itself is beautifully simple and spacious. Lots of seats you actually want to sit in, even reclining seats for those on a longer stopover. Why is it that most other European cities have airports that acknowledge the need of some passangers to catch up on sleep whilst Heathrow and Gatwick think reclining seats will encourage vagrancy? We arrived at the gate for the Helsinki-Tokyo leg of our journey in plenty of time, so avoiding being told to ‘Hurry up’ by the woman on the PA system.

This leg of the journey is properly long haul: 9h20m or so. We’re flying on an Airbus which thrills us both: me, with a weird sense of European pride (stuff the yanks and their Boeings!), Dominic because he gets his own TV screen with built-in games console. Long haul has definitely improved since I last flew eight years ago! The flight is pretty uneventful, save trying to impress on Dominic that we are moving time zones and need some sleep. Tomorrow: Japan!

a new reformation?

2009-07-19T12:05:00.006+01:00

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/belief/2009/jul/18/homosexuality-church-anglican-episcopal

In a brave assessment of the decisions made at the Episcopal Church's General Convention in Anaheim, Canon Jim Naughton is fair, I think, in his comments both about Nigel Wright and Rowan Williams. Earlier in the week in the Guardian, Stephen Bates quoted a bishop accusing Archbishop Rowan of being 'too Christian' with the conservative wing of the Church. I suppose I can only reflect my own deep disappointment in the position that Rowan has taken in all this. When the announcement of his appointment was made, I remember the sheer joy with which it was received by people in the progressive part of the Church. Even those of us in traditions other than Anglicanism were hopeful that a man like Rowan could move the debate on for all of us. He was an exceptional theologian and had spoken and written about sex, sexuality and relationships in a way that opened the dialogue and didn't foreclose debate.

Yet, here we are, these years later, more deeply mired in the mud than ever, with less clarity about a way forward and the Church deeply polarized. Worse than that, the rift between church and society, already substantial, is widening to a chasm. Priests are now accosted in public as homophobes, church members cease to use the term 'Christian' for fear of the negative reactions such a term elicits from others, whilst some of our more conservative brothers (and occasionally sisters) bask in the limelight of controversy.

Whilst I consider myself a catholic in terms of spirituality, in terms of ecclesiastical politics, I am firmly in the Protestant camp. All those years ago, men and women of faith in England, ironically, as well as Germany, France, Switzerland and Scotland, gave their lives for the possibility of going their own way when prompted by the demands of the Gospel. There was then as now, deep fears about the end of the Church and the loss of everything Christian in Europe, fears that were not substantiated. A principle was established then that Christians must discern the Spirit's promptings for themselves and then seek the grace and courage to follow those promptings - whatever the cost, personal or institutional.

The question might be why homosexuality? Surely that is to miss the point. The issue is, at most, a symbol, a catalyst, or a final straw. The gay debate has, underlying it, many deep issues about authority within and beyond the Church, the engagement of faith with the worlds of science, politics and law, ideas of gender, relationships and human society. All societies are struggling with issues of equality and human rights, the construction of the public space and, basically, what constitutes the 'good society', and is experimenting with laws and freedoms. There is a real sense, I believe, that we have not yet got it right, that a new orthodoxy or consensus is yet to be established.

It is my contention that the Church therefore faces a set of choices about whether and how it is to respond to these challenges. I am inspired by the bravery of ECUSA for making a decision at all, and for pushing in the progressive direction; it might be wrong, but then at least we shall know. They have followed the pioneering work of the United Church of Canada and some of the Scandinavian Lutherans in responding to the changes in their societies in this way. The lesson of the European Reformation is that so-called 'schismatic' decisions end up changes all parts of the institutional church - every reformation leads to a counter-reformation. Let is hope that this is indeed the case now.

The return of oratory

2009-07-04T19:11:00.004+01:00

Let’s begin with politics.

You may remember this scene from 24th July last year. The junior Senator from Illinois addressing a crowd in the German capital. Though figures differ, there were up to 200,000 in Berin that day.

They didn’t come to hear a great President (though he may become that in time).
Nor were they tempted by a fabulous, all-singing, all-dancing technical extravaganza. They didn’t come for the powerpoint presentation!

They came to hear an orator … an orator some commentators liken to a preacher.

"I don't think … it is a coincidence that two of the leading candidates, Obama and Huckabee, are the preachers in the race in many ways," says George W Bush’s speech-writer, Michael Gerson. "They know how to have a cadence. They know how to exhort with more language."

Philip Collins put it this way: “His style of delivery is basically churchy, it's religious: the way he slides down some words and hits others.’

The election of Barack Obama has re-awakened interest in, and a thirst for, the power of rhetoric. And if those commentators are right, it is a form of communication that draws on the ministry of the church.

But what has Obama to do with Methodism?

We’ve had a picture painted for us of what many perceive as a looming crisis – fewer ordained ministers serving a more scattered set of declining church communities. It may be a mixed picture, with some areas of growth, of real life and joy. But, unless I’m very much mistaken, there is a real smell of despondency in the air too. Donald Soper may have been a little hasty in the ‘60s to talk of Methodism as a ‘dying church’, but there is definitely a lot of decline and a tanglible experience of loss:
We are not what we were.

The question is, where do we go from here? I want to suggest that the answer might lie, in part, with Barack Obama.

Firstly, it’s always good, when you get stuck in a rut, to look outside your situation, so why not look at politics. But there’s more too it than that. The Obama campaign had three basic elements to it:

- it had a powerful narrative
- but it also had a large network
- and it had a preacher

A powerful, realistic, message of hope. After all our talk in the past twenty or thrity years of post-modernism, still there is a hunger for the big story, an overarching narrative that will explain the world and help to heal it. Evolutionary theory, climate church, hope – an orthodoxy around which we can marshall our energies and find meaning.

So what’s Methodism going to bring to the table? What’s our bid for the grand narrative?
Well, why don’t we go back to the beginning and try ‘Scriptural Holiness’, that the power of love is enough reform nations and the Church as well as individuals?

I had a few friends who travelled to the United States in the months before last November to help the Obama campaign. All of them were struck by the care and concern taken to recruit and nurture volunteers. All were empowered and equipped and then thanked for their contribution – however big or small that contribution was. There has also been a lot of talk about the use of social networking and the internet to keep people in touch and build a strong sense of ownership.

In short, the campaign worked because it was personal.

Is this a challenge too to British Methodism to return to its proverbial tents? The idea of connexion was an attempt, it seems to me, to provide an extraordinarily flexible ecclesiology. Because the ecclesiastical niceties were being taken care of by others, the early Methodists were free to experiment with worship and common life. Why does it seem to have become a blueprint, where a very similar pattern is replicated in every place? Can Circuits become again the basic unit of mission, where a diverse ecology of Christian discipleship is allowed to flourish?

Obama is obviously exceptional as an orator – but he also works hard at it. His speeches show how he studies the art, draws on the work of others, takes the whole thing seriously. Obama knows that speechifying is a central part of his task.

It’s been said that Methodism was born in song, but wasn’t preaching Methodism’s real charism? We may call ourselves presbyters of the universal church (and we are right to do so), but we remain Mr Wesley’s Travelling Preachers. Yet, I have to ask, where has our belief in preaching gone? How much time and energy do we dedicate to it – in training, in ongoing development, in the week-by-week slog of Circuit life?

I strongly believe in preaching involving more than words, and in it being a congregational activity. Preachers need receptive, engaged, and informed congregations.

In summary, Methodism needs to do the basics well, and the most basic, basic is preaching. Given the news we are hearing from within the Connexion, but also listening to the messages coming from the United States and elsewhere, I want to leave you with a question:

What if …?

What if Methodism put preaching back at the heart of all we do?

A return to violence?

2009-06-25T17:13:00.003+01:00

Having spent some of the last month with the Corrymeela Community, a Christian peace and reconciliation outfit based on the north coast of Northern Ireland, my mind is still full of questions around the relationships that exist between violence and politics and whether there is an adequate or even relevant theological contribution to be made. As you know, the peace process in the north of Ireland began in earnestness in 1993, with an agreement signed five years later. After a few false starts, politics is seen to be ‘working’ by the majority of the population and the ways and means of violence are slowly but surely being discarded. When a killing is reported, the vox pop that accompanies each report usually reiterates the impossibility of a return to the bad old days. But is that actually true? And furthermore, how does any post-conflict society guarantee a permanent cessation of hostilities?

It seems to me that the answer to the first question is ‘no’, that violence always remains an option, no matter how remote or improbable. I wonder whether, in fact, we should see violence as one end of a spectrum balanced at the other by true and inclusive communication. For, even if we abhor the very concept, there is a real sense in which violence is an alternate form of communication resorted to by those whose anger or exclusion tells them that no other method will convey their wishes.

Which brings me to the second question, i.e., are there any guaranteed ways to end hostilities. Some, like John Lennon, have suggested the eradication of differences as the only possibility: only a world without borders or religion will learn to live as one. Imagine was a great song, but perhaps it was a little too dependent on the Eurocentric Enlightenment for its premise. Diversity is not likely to decrease in the near future, and as much as humanity learns about its commonalities, it is also confronted with its stark and perhaps irreconcilable differences. With difference comes at least the possibility of disagreement and therefore violence.

What the recent history of South Africa and Northern Ireland may teach us, however, is that difference should not preclude communication and that communication is at the very heart of an inclusive politics. When people feel included and their voices heard, they are much less likely to resort to violence. That’s why a healthy, open democracy is a large part of the answer we seek. This means that all faith communities have a responsibility to ensure the health of the political process – achieved through an active, engaged and participating citizenry. It also means working with politics to open new avenues of communication, chiselling away at the boundaries and refusing to content itself with a ‘good enough’ politics. That, for me, is part of the theological voice – that the human experience is not about consensus but rather pilgrimage, and that relationships are essentially dynamic in character. This makes sense of the restlessness that occupies the human heart and leaves us hungry for change. In short, therefore, the only way to prevent violence raising its ugly head is to continue the search for that community where all are welcome, all are fed, and all are satisfied.

T.I.N.A.

2009-06-07T10:11:00.003+01:00

THERE IS NO ALTERNATIVE!

To change the leader of the Labour Party at this stage would be pure folly. Of course things are desperately bad, of course we need changes, of course the chances of winning the next election are pretty slim.

But what would changing the leader actually bring? An internal contest which wouldn't be bloodless and, even if it only lasted a month, would appear to the public as a gross indulgence. But say we go ahead even then. We get a new leader (probably Johnston) who would have to call an election almost immediately, an election he would probably lose. Does he stay on beyond that, wounded as he would be? Or does he go and we go through the whole process again, only this time with a great deal more bitterness?

We now need to rally behind Gordon Brown, knowing that a defeat is likely. Only he has the gravitas to deal with the economic crisis (remember that?!) and his policies are holding steady. Between now and a General Election in the autumn or spring we could see a great deal of progress on the constitutional front (enough to present the voters with a New Contract with the British People in a referendum on the same day) that the next government would be bound to implement. We could also cut the unpopular stuff - ID cards for one - and return to Labour's core values - a new social housing programme, general competence for local government, renewal of war on child and pensioner poverty, international aid raised to 0.7& of GDP within 5 years.

The next six months are going to be awful. The only way to survive is to renew the sense of comradeship within our ranks. We are democratic socialists - we achieve much more by the sum of our common efforts, or words to that effect. Why? Because there is no alternative!

Another Gay vs Fundamentalist debate

2009-05-23T16:44:00.007+01:00

Sigh ...

The case of Revd Scott Rennie is being debated at the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland. He's been a minister for a decade, serving in a Scottish Cathedral (without apparently any problem). Now he's moved to a new parish, most of the local congregation are happy with the move, yet the fundies are out to stop him.

The old arguments are being deployed, the battle-lines drawn in the public glare of the media. It's enormously sad to see us go round the block once again on this tired issue which can only lead to further damage to the reputation of religion in modern Britain. Only the militant atheists can gain from this.

Not to say that I'm not very angry that gay men and women are still being victimised in this way. I'm angry too that liberals and gays are often so spineless and media-ignorant that they appear about as competent and believable as a duck-house owning MP. I take solace, however, in a little excerpt from the incomparable 'The West Wing' which deals with the main issues in under 4 minutes. I leave you to enjoy ...

Time for real politics in N Ireland

2009-05-14T16:24:00.002+01:00

The Conservatives have done a deal with the Ulster Unionists and are fielding a joint candidate for the European Parliament. The joint statement from Reg Empey and David Cameron talks of the need in N Ireland to develop a new post-sectarian politics and this is their contribution to the future.

I know it will mean doing a catch up, but the British and Irish Labour Parties now have to follow suit and organise formally in the North. The fact that the SDLP are even contemplating a deal with Fianna Fail (a right wing party!) should mean that all bets are off and we can formally ditch our previously fraternity. The people of N Ireland deserve a decent centre-left, non-sectarian party to support, one that will sign up to the Good Friday consensus but register as non-aligned in the Assembly.

So many working class Protestants and Catholics are disenfranchised by the current system. A new Northern Ireland Labour Party, affiliated to both British and Irish Parties, is what they desperately need.

What is the Pope to do?

2009-05-10T16:59:00.003+01:00

Benedict XVI is now in that part of the world we euphemistically call the 'Holy Land'. And though we might kid ourselves we're being pious in this epithet, we know that this is simply a way of avoiding the complex political realities on the ground. The Holy Land allows us to bypass talk of occupied territories, borders and checkpoint, claims and counterclaims; pilgrimage not politics.

The Pope's PR people claim he wants to do the same. They want us to see an old man, near the end of his life, performing a pilgrimage to the site of his religion's birth. The trouble is, of course, he's no ordinary pilgrim and carries an enormous amount of influence in the world. It would be disingenuous to suggest otherwise. Tariq Ramadan (http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/may/09/pope-israel-palestine) is right to point out the Pope's need to place himself on the side of the poor and the oppressed - for that is where Christ himself was and is.

I realise the Pope has a hard job on his hands, balancing out the competing demands on him. But there are political statements he can and should make that are not partisan, e.g.:

1. Human rights are not contingent or contextual. All nations have a responsibility to give equal rights to all their citizens at all times.

2. Poverty is an unnecessary evil which human beings have the power and the responsibility to eradicate. Not that all should be wealthy, but that none should be so poor that it affects their health or education.

3. To live in fear is to live diminished, no matter whether that fear is realistic or not. The job of every government is to help the people move beyond fear and never to use fear as a political tool.

4. Because religion is part of the problem, it must also be part of the solution.

If he wants to avoid the origins of the issues, fine. But he cannot ignore the reality of the pain and suffering and therefore challenge governments, politicians, militants, clergy of every hue to do better for the common good. Pope Benedict will walk in the footsteps of Jesus of Nazareth this week. To suggest that one can follow this pilgrim way and somehow remain entirely above politics is surely to risk blasphemy.

Getting out of the mess

2009-04-27T19:22:00.002+01:00

Another day, another parliamentary debacle over MPs' expenses. Is this another sign of the demise of a fag-end government? It needn't be if the government see the renewal of our public life as a priority in the coming months. The bankers more than politicians showed the ethical deficit we inherited from neoliberalism and the need for what the PM himself called a 'moral compass'. Isn't the positive public reaction to the 50% tax rate a sign that the mood is now right for the embedding of progressive left policies?

So what to do next?

1. A short, agreed statement on what we should expect from our MPs. You might want to call it a job description, I wouldn't go that far. Surely the time has come for voters to have some idea of what their representatives are up to. I'd suggest it takes up no more than a side of A4, outlines some of the terms and conditions of their work. Of course it would be flexible, but don't the public - and politicians - have a right to some sort of contract? I'd suggest it also outlines the division of labour between parliamentary duties and constituency work.

2. All workers paid from the public purse are counted as civil servants and employed by parliament. There should be a minimum for each MP with the facility for extra specific workers where particular constituency workloads demand it. Each MP would also be given a constituency office leased by Parliament as well as a Westminster one, and provided with stationery and IT equipment from central stocks. Why should MPs have to arrange for the printing of their own stationery?

3. Much talk has been around the provision of second homes. This has become a minefield and politics needs to learn from other sectors. Outside a reasonable commuting distance (I suggest the M25), MPs would be offered a choice: Parliament will provide a grace and favour home either in the constituency or in central London. The London homes will not be as large and there would be a limit on the size of constituency home. Should the MP become a minister, then they might be entitled to a larger property, but only one. This would mean MPs could conduct their duties without hindrance but not make money out of the system.

4. This leaves the issue of travel expenses. Should we expect MPs to travel standard class like everyone else who travels on business? Security considerations might come into play, but only for a few. Why not use the HMRC's 40p a mile and standard class? Of course, they can pay for upgrades, or make a case for it in the expense claim.

5. £64000 pa is a lot of money! Arguments for substantial rises will be met with well-deserved derision. I'm all for paying public representatives properly and this seems like properly to me. It allows for a very comfortable lifestyle whilst not putting them out of touch with the vast majority of their constituents. In fixing the amount, why not learn from John Lewis and fix MP's salary to the minimum wage? MPs would earn so many times the national minimum wage and thus give them the incentive of putting it up (even if they were Tories!) If we are serious about equality, we need to stop the gap between rich and poor getting any wider.

A five-point plan to begin to redeem politics in the public mind. It mustn't stop there. We also need to press ahead with constitutional reform:

1. Explicit parliamentary vote for Prime Minister - the leader of the largest party must go to Parliament before s/he goes to the Palace. A reminder to all that Parliament is sovereign.

2. Stronger Select Committees with Chairs voted individually by Parliament. Parliament now needs to be seen as separate from the Executive.

3. At least a majority-elected Lords - smaller, leaner, more legitimate, with a concordat of powers with the Commons.

4. Fixed-term Parliaments - it is ridiculous that the governing party decides when to hold an election.

I'm not suggesting this will turn us around overnight, but Labour should be seen to be making a start.

Euro Elections - a self-fulfilling prophecy

2009-04-27T10:03:00.003+01:00

It's only just over a month until we are asked to cast our votes for the European Parliament. According to its most virulent sceptics, this Parliament is incredibly powerful and is responsible (or at least co-responsible with the Commission) for over 60% of the laws in the UK.

So why is it that the election campaign is more low-key than most district council by-elections? We have heard virtually nothing from any political party and, given that most voters are confused at best with what the Parliament does, there is real need for political education as well as campaigning.

The result of this? Another incredibly low turn out after a lacklustre campaign where local and national issues will predominant. Another failure to connect the people of the UK with the institutions of the EU. And probably another kicking for the Labour Party. Plus ca change ....

Waltz with Bashir

2008-11-26T16:48:00.000Z

Currently on release in the cinema, Waltz with Bashir tells the story of a thirty-something Israeli filmmaker trying to come to terms with his experiences as a young soldier in the Israeli-Lebanon War in the early ‘80s. He is deeply disturbed that, for twenty years, it has not troubled him and indeed that he finds it hard even to remember what went on and what part he played in it. So he seeks the help of some of those who shared that experience and other friends to access those deeply hidden memories, especially the events surrounding the massacres which took place in the Palestinian refugee camps of Sabra and Shatila.

The fact that this documentary (for that is what it is, ostensibly) is animated immediately places it in the realm of the not-quite-real. I suppose that is what the viewer is supposed to think – to see that the dividing line between fantasy and reality, even truth and falsehood is blurred at best and none of us can be sure of our recollections of the past. It is also, of course, a sign of how deeply traumatic the remembrances are for the author, by depicting them in cartoon is someone to distance them from himself, to make them less real. It also allows him to play with the images, to put dreams and nightmares on the same level as memories.

What Waltz with Bashir did was show how the effects of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in a very vivid and, at times, moving way. It also indicted the senior Israeli leadership in first, asking these young people to do what they did, but also in failing to stop atrocities when they knew they were happening. But it was content to suggest that responsibility for Sabra and Shatila rested entirely with blood-thirst Christian Phalagists, bent on revenge for the death of their leader, Bashir Gemayel (hence the film’s title). Was this somehow a justification for such brutality? Never was the question asked about why Israel was in Lebanon in the first place. Nor did it really explore the culpability of the bystander. Only once in the film were allusions made to the Nazi death camps and identification with those who perpetrated the Holocaust, but only as a metaphor to describe a psychological state.

Waltz with Bashir provokes deep questions concerning human culpability and the responsibility of the individual in the face of mass inhumanity. It also challenges our notions of truth in historical remembrance, and for these reasons should be seen.

Is it just me or is McCain from the nasty party?

2008-10-09T09:53:00.003+01:00

Do you remember the time when, as a pretty open-minded leftie, you admired John McCain's centrist rhetoric? You even slightly admired his war record, even though you baulked at anything to do with American involvement in Vetnam. And, of course, you bought into his image as a Washington maverick, taking on the vested interests and speaking his mind on issues like campaign funding.

Watching his performance on the latest Presidential Debate this week makes me think I've been living in a parallel universe. Where has cuddly John gone? What we saw this week was a rather mean spokesperon for the nasty party, not quite the Church of I-Hate-You, but the people members of that ecclesiastical establishment certainly vote for. Tax cuts for the rich, big defence spending, rolling back the state, tinkering with an utterly corrupt healthcare system for fear of upsetting the vested interests. Nuclear power, offshore drilling, we've gone back to Reagonomics on environmental issues. I know a lot of attention has focussed on Sarah, bulldog-in-lipstick, Palin. Sure, she's frightening, but McCain is no liberal.

No right-thinking Democrat-leaning American liberal can think that a vote for McCain/Palin is anything other than a vote for regressive politics. To paraphrase The Daily Show, just because it will be a woman taking away a woman's right to choose won't make it right!

Holy Land - day 19

2008-07-29T19:52:00.004+01:00

You’ll be pleased to hear that the money arrived and it ONLY took 40 minutes to process the paperwork! After the experiences of yesterday and the past two and a half weeks, I feel the need to vent a little. Why is it, for example, that pedestrians are treated so badly in this country? Again and again, walking along minding my own business, the pavement suddenly disappeared altogether. Or worse still, drivers feel no compunction at mounting the pavement and parking right across the walkway. Don’t ever daydream in Israel or the chances are you’ll be mowed down by a bloody scooter weaving its way along the PAVEMENT – what part of footpath don’t they understand?

Maybe it’s a state secret or part of the security operation but would it kill someone to put bus routes on a piece of paper and make it widely available? What do they call those things? Oh, I know, a MAP! Negotiating buses and fares is nightmarish to say the least. So, of course, that makes tourists reliant on taxis. Plenty to choose from, sadly it seems, most drivers are out to fleece you. They rely on you not knowing the route so run up the meter, or just fix a price without any hint they want to haggle. I got into one today who claimed the rush hour meant a higher price. Not only did we hardly encounter one car on the road, but he insisted on taking me to his friend, the Persian rug dealer ‘for a chat about the Farsi language’. With all the previous experiences, it did feel a little like being kidnapped.

Then there’s the pushing and shoving, the queue-jumping and shouting, the driving that makes India look safe. Is there a word in Hebrew for ‘excuse me’ or ‘sorry’? I wouldn’t know because I’ve yet to hear it!

Right, I think that’s it. Thanks.

The main business of the day was meeting a friend for coffee who’s recently moved to Jerusalem and visiting Yad vaShem, the Holocaust Museum. Getting to the Museum was a bit of a trial (please see above) but it was worth it. The guidebook said: give it three hours and, for once, they were right. Again lots of young IDF members around. No wonder, because as you walk around you are not simply confronting history; this is the foundation of the State. The exhibit itself goes straight from a detailed account of the Shoah immediately into Clandestine Immigration to Palestine (which is only ever referred to as Eretz Israel) and the Zionist Movement.

I’m not sure I can say too much more about my experiences at Yad vaShem. It was certainly emotional. I came back to Jerusalem specially to make this visit and I’m glad I did.

I hadn’t even touched the Armenian Quarter of the Old City during my stay, so this was the evening to eat in within the Walls. I’ve just returned from a delicious meal in the local Armenian Tavern, a cavern of a place where you eat surrounded by beautiful tiles, jewellery and other accoutrements. After a pleasant night there, catching up with the political news in Israel. Is a deal with the Palestinians/Hamas/Syria/Lebanon imminent or is this just Ohlmert playing politics and playing for time? And what about the water shortage? If Israel’s going short, what does that mean for the Palestinians? You can see why people in this region don’t get their hopes up.

This is my last night in Is/Pal. I’m currently sitting in the courtyard of my hostel being gently buffeted by the breeze. And I feel a little overwhelmed by the experiences of the last three weeks. So many people, so much information, so much hope and despair. It has certainly given me a desire to know more, to read more, to learn from the experiences of others. Also to come back to the Middle East, to Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, North Africa.

Throughout this journey I’ve been accompanied by William Dalrymple and his From the Holy Mountain which follows the journeyings of a Byzantine monk and his companion. As he has encountered the Christians of the Middle East, there has been a retelling of their story and some insight into their current plight. Whilst it is magnificently written and obviously carefully researched, it does not offer a happy or optimistic picture. Whether the Armenians in Turkey, or the Palestinians in Israel, or the Copts in Egypt, the story of decline is heartbreaking. Maybe I should chosen a more upbeat companion!

Both my journey and Dalrymple leave me with huge questions about nationalism, interfaith dialogue, human diversity and multiculturalism. It’s too early to say anything productive, but I hope that these experiences will help me to formulate new and better questions about how human beings, in all their complexities, can learn to live together.

Holy Land - day 18

2008-07-29T19:45:00.001+01:00

They say that every trip must have at least one bad day – well this was certainly mine! It started well, with a lovely breakfast in the Hostel, the usual simple array of eggs, bread, vegetables and humus. I have to say that even I can’t face humus that early in the morning! I decide against trying to see the Baha’i gardens up close and instead plump for the Museum of Clandestine Immigration and Naval History. I board what I think is the right bus only to be told by the driver that it’s wrong. I persevere and get off where I think it ought to be and, lo and behold, I’m right. In your face, bus driver!

Having said that, it’s not all that easy to get into – more of a clandestine museum than I thought. Once I reach the entrance, the questions begin – where am I from? How long am I staying? Where I am staying? I thought I did all this at the airport, but it seems an interrogation is also required to get into museums. I am left wondering if Israelis actually want foreigners to become acquainted with their history.

The Museum was recommended by the Lonely Planet Guide (note to self, NEVER buy another LP Guide!) hence my efforts to get there. I have to say that they rather over-egged this particular pudding. For a start, most of it was in Hebrew and therefore difficult to get a handle on. The stuff that was in English was basically more propaganda than history. The curators had deftly placed the history of Jewish refugees escaping from the Nazis alongside jet skis used by terrorists to attack Israeli holidaymakers in the nineties. Am I being over-sensitive in thinking that these issues should be kept apart?

If you’re going to Israel and want to visit this museum, my advice is keep to the left. The main display is actually housed in one of the refugee boats (named: ‘In spite of’) and underneath there is an interesting display of material from the detainment camps in Cyprus where Jewish refugees were put by the British authorities.

Two things stayed with me from that visit. Firstly, is all history really just propaganda? In this museum I felt an acute sense of the story of the victor being told. But is it really different in other places? The scary thing for me is that the museums I visit are full of young Israeli conscripts, being educated by their superiors. What do they leave with?

The second thing that caused me to pause was the map drawn up in 1947 by the UN with the proposed partition into Jewish and Arab states. In it, the Jews get about 52% of the land west of the Jordan. Of course, we know that the Palestinians went for all or nothing and ended up with the later. With all the reading I’ve been doing around this whilst here, I am left to wonder what might have happened if the Palestinians had organised themselves half as well as the Jews and settled for the UN plan. As one Arab leader of the time put it: the UN is entirely rational, but since when were the affairs of state ever based on or decided by reason?

I left the museum and headed back to the hostel to collect my bags and make my way to Jerusalem. There was a premonition of bad things to come when my sunglasses broke. Since these were now my only glasses – the others now on their way to London, having been left in a cab – a certain inconvenience was certain to visit itself upon me in my final days. Anyway, I said goodbye to the sisters and got the right bus to make my connection to Jerusalem. All was going swimmingly – I even got to sit among a lot of good-looking IDF guys on the bus! However, no sooner had I got into a taxi at the other end, that a realised my wallet was gone. In a frenzy I got back to the station, shouted at security guards and found the bus, but the wallet was gone. I was left for my final two days with 50 shekels…

I walked all the way to the hotel I’d booked (not pleasant even at 5 o’clock in the evening) and started to do all the things necessary – phoned home for support, arranged for money to be wired, stopped credit cards, cried a little. I also steeled myself for a visit to the local police to make a report (I took a good book and, sure enough, it took 45 minutes and the abuse of a snotty teenager with a gun to file a one page report!) There have been times when I have felt vulnerable here, what with the lack of local knowledge or language skills and the plethora of guns and tension. But this was me at my most exposed and it wasn’t pretty.

A bad day, huh …?

Holy Land - day 17

2008-07-28T17:15:00.001+01:00

The final Sunday in the Holy Land, although it doesn’t really feel like a Sunday. Having said that, many of the shops are shut in Nazareth, a clue to its Christian population. Before I leave Nazareth, I must mention an experience I neglected to relate in yesterday’s blog. I was actually searching for some decent olive oil in a pretty bottle – tourist, I know – when I stumbled upon a coffee distributor. I stepped inside the ‘shop’ in the Souq – more a big hole in the wall – to be enveloped in one of the most intoxicating smells I’ve ever encountered. The overwhelming smell of freshly grinding coffee mixed with gentle spices and other odours was extraordinary. That is one of the many things that will stay with me from this trip, the smells of the place: spices and coffee, delicate jasmine and rotting garbage, urine and fresh mint, heavy aftershave and grilling kebab, an heady brew.

I decide to head to Haifa on the bus, ostensibly because I am yet to book a place to stay. The bus journey is quick and simple and I arrive at what I think is the Central Bus Station. The crapness of the Lonely Planet map doesn’t really help and the lack of signage is a bit of a problem. According to the map, the hotel I’d like to stay at is within walking distance. It’s the middle of the day and I have a rucksack but muggins decides to walk. An hour later I’ve walked in a complete circle and opt for the taxi option. It turns out I’m not in the place I thought I was and the taxi ride costs more than the bus. Still, I’m here, opposite an enormous grain silo just beside the docks. The first hotel is booked out (at this point my partner will be doing an ‘I told you so’ dance) and they recommend the Latin Patriarchate Guesthouse up the road.

Before I go to the new place, I drop by a wi-fied café to eat and check emails. It’s called Stroudel Café, not because of what’s on the menu, but because the @ sign in email is called a stroudel in Hebrew. Why – well is resembles the pastry, obviously!

At four o’clock, I enter the gates of St Charles’ Hospice, the Guesthouse where I’m staying. This is the first place I’ve stayed run by religious and so I’m a little nervous. I shouldn’t be, of course, the nuns are gracious and welcoming and put me in a lovely room with a flowery bedspread. The room has neither a TV nor internet connection, so I am encouraged into solitude and reflection. With such peaceful surroundings, I think I might even try to pray!

Before the spiritual urge takes over, have a nap and then go exploring the German Colony. This is my first historical encounter with Christian Zionism outside Jerusalem. Even before the Jews got the idea of resettling Palestine, some Christians got it into their head that it would speed up the Second Coming if the Jews returned to the Holy Land. So they came ahead of them to prepare the way. In the mid-18th century a group of religiously motivated Germans settled in Haifa and began to farm the land around Mount Carmel. So successful were they that Kaiser Wilhelm I paid a special visit and took tea in the gardens with the express blessing of the Ottoman Sultan. The Germans remained up until WWII when the British threw them out as Nazi sympathisers. (I’m spending Monday and Tuesday night at Christchurch Hospice in Jaffa Gate which was an Anglican version of the same sort of Christian Zionist idea.)

The other major attraction of Haifa is the Baha’i gardens and the Tomb of the Bab. It sits on the hill and is truly magnificent as you can see from the pic. But did you know that, in order to make it even more spectacular, they moved Ben Gurion Street (the heart of the German Colony) 168cms to bring it into line with the Baha’i Gardens? I mean, how do you move a street? Anyway, it worked if the number of pictures I took is anything to go by.

Holy Land - day 16

2008-07-27T07:26:00.000+01:00

I wake up in Nazareth which, if I haven’t told you already, is Jesus’ home town. I determine to spend a quiet morning finding my bearings before trying to head off to the Sea of Galilee. After breakfast, I head to the place from where I’ve seen buses depart, already clutching a piece of paper with the number of the bus I require. I am more than a little self-satisfied that I’ve done my homework. So I sit and wait for the 431 … and wait … and wait. Lots of buses to be sure, but not mine. I’m in a very pleasant spot, shaded and cool, so I decide to wait a little more. 11 o’clock comes and goes, so at 11.20 precisely (never begin things unless the clock shows a round number, that’s always been my philosophy) I get up and go to the Tourist Information.

It tells you a lot about the nationality of the current tourist influx that virtually all the leaflets outside the information kiosk were in either Russian or Polish. I realise that I have used the term ‘kiosk’ and even ‘information’ in a manner some would question – particularly those who have been to Nazareth. It basically consisted of an old bookcase outside a very small (and very uninviting) office, on which were strewn/thrown various maps and booklets. I was busily inwardly tutting and eyebrow-raising (ok, there may have been some external sign of such activity too) about the lack of order and therefore the lack of pride the official took in her work, when an explanation of the mess came upon me – literally! As a German couple and I carefully sifted through the bookcase in the manner of biblical archaeologists, we were engulfed in Russians.

It all happened so fast, I can’t be sure of numbers, but I suspect twenty to thirty, of various sizes, grasping, chattering, pushing, grasping. It was like a scene from the Birds and I was in no mood to be Tippy Hendron. Taking no thought for my fellow Western Europeans, I managed to push my way out of the crowd in time to catch my breath and recover my composure. I resolved in that moment never again to come between a group of Russian pilgrims and their tourist information.

Once the Russians had dispersed (riot police were called but no tear gas was used) I took my life in my hands again and approached the surly information officer directly to ask about buses. ‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘bus 431 to Tiberias, but none today until 9.30pm.’ Even in an Arab town, Shabbat makes its influence felt.

What to do now? I regrouped and decided to make the most of Nazareth. Since I was outside the Church of the Annunciation, that seemed like a good place to start. The largest church in the Middle East was built in the 60s by the Catholics, a magnificent and suitably impressive structure, designed to cope with the large number of tourists. The nations of the world had been asked to send mosaics to be incorporated into the structure but it seemed that so many had been received that many were now placed in a purpose-built cloister. I managed to find contributions from Scotland, Wales and Ireland – nothing from the English! The church itself, built on the site of Mary’s house, was utterly breath-taking. I particularly loved the stained glass and the mosaics of Our Lady, but I couldn’t help thinking that it lacked a local congregation. I could be wrong, but it didn’t feel ‘lived in’.

Very near to the Annunciation, and within the same campus, was the older Church of St Joseph, again on the site of the home and shop of Jesus’ father. A simpler affair, to be sure, and the crypt revealed a mosaic floor dating from Roman times, but not much to commend it. The most spiritual place for me was the little garden that had been constructed between the two churches, but maybe that says more about me.

Christians being Christians, of course do not agree about where Mary received the news of her pregnancy. Catholics think it was at home, Orthodox that it was at the local well. So I trundled off to St Gabriel’s Orthodox Church near Mary’s Well further up the hill. A small affair, this building had a greater ring of authenticity about it, and even contained the spring that fed the well. I’m not saying that Mary actually, literally, had a visit from the Archangel Gabriel, only that the church seemed as designed for the locals as for tourists. They had, of course, taken wise precautions and removed any tourist information in Russian or other Slavic language to prevent vandalism.

Between these two places of pilgrimage is the Souq, reminiscent of the narrow streets of Jerusalem Old City. Here you could buy anything, as long as it was polyester and highly flammable. I did manage to buy a cheap cotton t-shirt but only after much digging among the polyester offerings. Obviously I did so without creating much friction as one spark would have sent a fireball through the entire market.

I have to admit to not being a huge fan of my Lonely Planet guide. I only bought it in preference to Rough Guide because it included the Palestinian Territories in greater detail. The maps are awful, the layout counterintuitive. However, it partly redeemed itself today by suggesting a great restaurant near the hotel. It was absolutely buzzing and booked solid, but they squeezed me in. The food was sensational and rounded off an interesting/scary/spiritual day in Nazareth.

Holy Land - day 15

2008-07-26T17:28:00.002+01:00

A long and busy day. From Jerusalem to Ramallah and back in the morning. Good bye to my colleague and then journeying north to Nazareth. I expected to have to go around the West Bank, given the heightened security and presence of the Wall. But no – my taxi-driver insisted on giving me a tour of the West Bank. So we headed east from Jerusalem to Jericho, heading well below sea level to this town by the Dead Sea. Past what looked like Bedouin camps with the occasional camel giving rides to tourists. It’s really hard to put into words just how stark and stunning is the landscape of this tiny region. If someone took a gigantic iron to it and flattened out the hills and valleys, it would probably end up three times as large.

We skirted around Jericho and headed north along the Jordan valley. More outstanding wilderness, sparsely populated by Palestinian villagers, heavily punctuated by Jewish settlements, lush with vegetation and coconut trees. ‘Making the desert bloom ….’ Sure, but at what cost? Where’re all the water coming from to feed the acres of coconut trees and greenhouses. And what happens to the waste products. Interesting too the lack of UN and NGO vehicles which were so prolific in Jerusalem and Ramallah. Only the Israeli army patrols this area, protecting the settlers and the various monuments to the Israeli war dead.

Back through the northern Wall and onto Nazareth, a city set up in the hills. Now the largest Arab city within Israel, Nazareth is one of the few places in the Jewish State where responding in Arabic will get you further than Hebrew. Under the 1947 UN Partition Plan for Palestine, this was supposed to be part of the new Arab state west of the Jordan. The 1948 War put pay to that idea, leaving these Palestinians with Israeli citizenship.

20% of the population of Israel is Arab, mainly Christian, with some Muslims and Druze. Their presence within a self-identified Jewish State is an anomaly at best, and a constant threat at worst. Without continual Jewish immigration, the variable birth-rates will eventually put the Jews in a minority. Yet not taking seriously the rights, needs and aspirations of this significant population – and frankly, allowing anti-Arab sentiment to go unchecked – is not worthy of a nation claiming the title democratic. I wanted to come to Nazareth partly to see where Jesus might have grown up. But I also wanted to experience something of the life of an Israeli-Arab. Can you really be both Israeli and Palestinian?

And to add a little touch of bizarreness to the evening, I walked back from the city centre along Paul VI Road only to be greeted by the sound of bagpipes and drums, as the local Nazareth Scout band went through its paces. Certainly a sound to cheer me up on hearing the disaster of the Glasgow East by-election result.

Holy Land - day 14

2008-07-26T17:26:00.000+01:00

Back to Jerusalem! Along a highway that cuts across the Green Line (and therefore Palestinian territory) to give Israelis a faster route between their two major cities. The Wall lines the road in part, only this part is tastefully done in sympathetic brick rather than stark concrete. If this was the only part you saw, you might think it was actually quite nice ….

And a wonderful evening after an afternoon of depressing meetings. Sitting in the garden of the Ambassador Hotel whilst a concert of traditional music played in the background. A meze of cheese and humus and mushrooms ….

Holy Land - days 12 & 13

2008-07-26T07:21:00.001+01:00

What more can I say about Tel Aviv? I’ve already mentioned that it seems a world away from Jerusalem, a complete contrast in terms of climate and culture. Put it another way, when in Jerusalem, there is little of the usual holiday compulsion (particularly if you travel with my partner!) to visit 15 museums before lunch, or indeed at all, because history is all around. The exhibits are carefully placed between the sweet seller and the icon shop. It may sound trite but it appears that the locals haven’t quite finished with the artefacts yet and so you have to carefully pick your way through to get a decent look. For Tel Aviv, on the other hand, history is now conveniently encased in various museums (I overemphasise to make a point). More like a Jewish California…

It resembles California in more ways than one. There is, of course, the beach culture, and every evening will find Tel Avivans flock to the shore after a hard day at work. Beach volley ball under flood light is a sight to behold, and you have to be careful not to be mown down by the super-fit joggers along the front. This is the Israeli body beautiful capital and, boy, do they work it. There are moments (I imagine) when one might become so distracted by a particular individual that only the lapping of the sea around one’s waist would bring one back to full consciousness.

Tel Aviv also prides itself in its ability to embrace diversity. It is the centre of the gay scene in Israel, if not the entire Middle East, and a stroll along the seafront in the evening brings encounters with all sorts of ‘alternative’ lifestyles. It’s an insomniac’s paradise – find yourself at a loose end at 4.30 in the morning and there will be a café open, people to talk to, music to hear. Having said that, there is another big contrast with Jerusalem – religion. I found someone with whom to have some of the most engaging conversations, theologically-speaking, but it felt much like I feel at home, that it almost a subversive act against a secular hegemony. Tel Aviv is the heart of Israeli secularism, a bastion of the liberal elite, who now see their dream of a socialist secular Jewish state crumbling before their very eyes. And so again the question comes: is there a way of combining commitment to ‘secular’ human rights (which often have a religious foundation) and democratic pluralism, with vibrant, public expressions of religious faith?

Holy Land - day 11

2008-07-22T16:16:00.003+01:00

A late night in good company meant a more leisurely morning.

We set off for Tel Aviv later in the morning and arrived at an excellent hotel near the beach. The journey was hairy in parts, but then again, it's good to be reminded what seatbelts are for from time to time.

The main news of the day was not the amount of Americans milling around the lobby of the hotel, or indeed around Tel Aviv in general. The main news was our evening meal, spent in a beautiful part of Jaffa, surrounded by Ottoman architechture. I had to overlook the various photos of the Israeli Parachute Regiment and what looked like Tornado jet fighters. But a glance upwards revealed a quite extraordinary array of primus stoves. There was a story behind it but it obviously escaped me. Instead, we become engrossed in the simply glorious range of traditional Israeli food that was placed before us. I would get a sore throat if I tried to pronounce the names of the dishes, and I fear the 'H' key would break if I typed them out, but take it from me that it was extraordinary. The waitress, it has to be said, came close to upstaging the food with her brusque manner, but not quite. I almost forgot about the humidity.

The other thing that strikes me is how 'normal' Tel Aviv is (certainly compared to Jerusalem). I imagine that if you were to visit Israel and only see Tel Aviv or a few other towns on the coast, you could leave here wondering what all the fuss was about. Despite the relative proximity of Jerusalem to Tel Aviv, there is a feeling of a completely different world. Not only have we moved from a site of pilgrimage to a holiday resort, but there is also a major transition from East to West. By which I mean, Tel Aviv is comfortable for me as a Westerner. I am a little peeved that the hotel's TV doesn't have the BBC, but other than that, most of it is familiar. Jerusalem has Westernised parts, but there is a feeling of being somewhere different, culturally speaking, exotic even. I hear that secular Jews are increasingly locating on the coast and leaving the interior 'hot spots' to the ultraorthodox - that can't be a good idea.

Holy Land - day 10

2008-07-21T09:43:00.006+01:00

I felt a little bit special today. I decided to go to Bethlehem, more for political than religious reasons. I have to admit that I sit rather lightly to the whole Nativity thing and so was sceptical at best of mangers and stables. But I had heard that the Wall now almost completely cuts off Bethlehem from Jerusalem, making life increasingly difficult for the residents. It was also my first experience of a ride on a Palestinian bus.

Why did I feel special - because when I arrived, there were Palestinian police and troops everywhere. For ME, I asked? Well no. They were actually there for the visit of Gordon Brown who was expected in the city to meet President Abbas.

When eventually I did make my way to Manger Square (Bethlehem is bigger than you think!), I was hot and more than a little bothered. Rather than plunge straight into religious tourism - pilgrimage seems too pious a term for what I was engaging in - I took a break in a local cafe. Dressing like a cleric is hard work in this weather, but it does seem to give people permission to talk to you. So, little surprise, that a man at the next table got into conversation. A local Christian, he wanted to tell me about the decline in the city and his own struggles as one who chooses to stay rather than emigrate.

One interesting point he made was the role of the Churches in supporting local families. Here is the dilemma of any charitable activity. In helping to alleviate poverty (or at least it's worst aspects) how much are the Churches colluding with the status quo? Is this simply making occupation bearable? Interestingly, the person I was talking to wanted to challenge the Churches to invest in business rather than simply dole out relief to families. Is this where fairtrade and microfinance need to some in?

I left the cafe to explore the Church of the Nativity and, I have to admit, I was very impressed. It might have been something to do with its simplicity, or that I avoided the scrummage of Polish pilgrims fighting their way into the grotto under the altar, but I found myself in quiet reflection - will wonders never cease?

Back on the bus to Jerusalem, we were held up for a moment as Mr Brown's motorcade wailed into town - I was very glad to have missed him as I feel he would have bunked the queue to get into the shrine.

I feel very lucky to be travelling with my colleague who has an extraordinary range of contacts in the area. We ended the evening at a delightful restaurant and I was introduced to some of the people trying to make a difference here. My guidebook had warned me that time spent in Jerusalem had a tendency to induce religious delusions and mental instability among pilgrims. After this particular dinner, I'm not entirely sure it's limited to the religious ....

Holy Land - day 9

2008-07-21T09:08:00.008+01:00

Today is about camels.

First of all, I really feel I haven't seen enough of the ships of the desert. The picture was taken atop the Mount of Olives, looking across the Kidron Valley to the Dome of the Rock. One can only assume that s/he was either a Russian tourist or had been placed there to add a certain authenticity to proceedings.

Today involved a mixture of sights, sounds and emotions. We were taken to Bethany to see another part of the Wall, and on the way stopped at the glorious viewing point over the Old City. We drove past the Golden Gate which will only be opened for the glorious return of the Messiah (first or second coming depending on your point of view). Then we decended into the Sooq and the weird and wonderful treasures within (including lots of toy camels - a tenuous link, I know.)

But the real link came in the evening when I attended the Jerusalem International Film Festival. It's been going on all week, but this is the first and only opportunity I've had to get to see anything. Given the limitation of choice, I plumped for 'Recycle', a Jordanian documentary following the life of Abu Ammar, a former jihadist who grew up in the same town as Al Zarqawi, the leader of Al Qaeda in Iraq. What a weird feeling to be watching a film, in Arabic, about Al Qaeda, in an Israeli cinema surrounded by Jewish people!

The film itself was poignant and, at time, extremely funny. Abu Ammar had returned from Afghanistan where he had been a bodyguard to some of the most important leaders of the mudjahadeen, to a life of poverty and disappointment. The name of the film was taken from the fact that he eeked a living out of recycling cardboard, travelling around Jordan's second city from dawn til dusk, looking for old boxes. His smallest child, Abu Bakr, is a real star and provides some of the best moments. But for me, one of the saddest episodes is when Abu Ammar goes looking for camel's milk to ease his mother's aches and pains. There is a fantastic conversation on the way where the medicinal properties of the milk are discussed - can it really cure cancer? They eventually arrive and Abu Bakr does his best to try to punch any available camel. Then negotiations begin over the price of milk. First there is none to hand, then it is free (for the sake of God), then it has run out and he must return tomorrow. We follow Abu Ammar as he drives away empty-handed and returns at dawn the following morning, only to find that, whilst there is milk available, it now costs 6 dinars. You can see the disappointment in his face as he realises that he cannot afford it and, once again, has to leave empty-handed.

In watching this short film, some of my own prejudices reveal themselves. I try to be a good leftie - and a decent radical Christian - and tell myself and others that humanity is one in dignity and equality. But I know that I feel more comfortable around people who look like me and share my Western cultural assumptions. On the one hand, I have no desire to minimise the diversity that exists, but in some ways, I also acknowledge that it would make me feel much more comfortable if everyone shared my worldview. There is a serious challenge in this film to see the 'other' as other, but to recognise our common struggles to be human.

Holy Land - day 8

2008-07-18T16:43:00.005+01:00

Well, I've survived the first full week in this strange place, and I hope you've seen how much it is making me think (and even pray!) Today, being Friday, is the day we get ready for Shabbat, when work stops and things wind down for 24 hours. At the back of your mind is that deadline of sundown, when you've got to make sure you've done all you need to and are in the right place before it grinds to a halt.

I spent the morning talking with Palestinian Christians and was inspired by some of the work going on. There is a real danger that any sense of community among Christians is being whittled away by low birth rates, emigration and intimidation, and all that will be left is a rather ancient theological theme-park/tourist trail. The people I spoke to today are fighting that process and using the resources of the Christian tradition to sustain local communities and equip them to engage in the politics of justice. It's where my own heart and faith lie - that constant challenge and inspiration I find in the texts and history of Christianity to transform and heal the world. John Wesley's own theology of Christian Perfection allowed that an individual was always possible of change, and that no situation was therefore inevitable. So he left us Methodists not only with a belief that we COULD change the world, but that because we could, therefore we MUST. To me, what these Christians are doing is living proof of that, attempting to build a living, inclusive, engaged Christian faith in Palestine and Israel. But I feel myself beginning to launch into sermon mode, so I'll stop.

I couldn't resist returning to T'mol Shilshom (that chi-chi place I told you about earlier in the week) for lunch before a quiet afternoon and evening back at the hotel. Well, it was supposed to be quiet, but as I write this in the lobby of my hotel, a Palestinian wedding party is arrivng. Lots of sparkly frocks, one old man in the traditional Arabic head-dress, enough coke and water to float an oil tanker, and a band causing a complete racket in the car park. So much for Shabbat Shalom ...

Holy Land - day 7

2008-07-18T16:11:00.005+01:00

My first proper encounter with the United Nations. We held a meeting today in the offices of United Nations Development Programme: Programme of Assistance for the Palestinian People (UNDP PAPP for short!) Quite exciting really, and of course, lots of flags around. Our meeting was delayed for logistical reasons but it went off ok in the end.

News has also reached us that Tony Blair is in town and Gordon Brown is on his way. I can't help wondering whether this is just a wild coincidence?!

The local news is also dominated by the exchange that has happened on the Lebanese border, where the bodies of two kidnapped Israeli soldiers have been exchanged for prisoners and bodies with Hezbollah. It highlights the status of Israeli as a soldier-nation, where the military is constantly in evidence, even off-duty. My guidebook told me to be prepared for off-duty soldiers to get onto buses or hang out in bars carrying their M16, but still it looks a little strange. T-shirt, shorts, sandals, machine gun - the 2008 summer look. The fact that nearly every Israeli has either served in the military or is closely related to someone who has or is changes attitudes and sets a tone. There's a normality about having guns and people in uniform around. There is the bond formed with other people in your unit with whom you continue to serve in the reservists. There is the shared devastation at the death of friends/brothers/sisters/children in the prime of life. But that comes at a price. Jefferson talked about 'constant vigilance' as the price that democracy exacts from the citizen. But most of us know that vigilance is stressful and exhausting, so we rarely engage in the terms Jefferson demanded. Israelis, however, feel they must and history does not dissuade them. No wonder then we have heard so much of the Israeli State's covenant with it's military and the extraordinary lengths it will go to in order to secure the return of its dead.

Speaking of vigilance, I decided to get out of Jerusalem for the evening and try Israel's public transport at the same time, so I booked a train ticket to Tel Aviv. I arrived at the train station which seems to be around 20 miles from Jerusalem itself, only to discover I'd just missed a Tel Aviv train. The next one (remember this is connecting Israel's two major population centres) was two hours away! First the armed security guards didn't want to let me in, then forced me to wait for ten minutes whilst another colleague was called to query my passport (I'm beginning to feel someone doesn't like me). So I wait on the platform for an hour and a half, watching the sun set over Beit Jala, with an armed guard in case of attack, and I get to reflecting. The same person who was snotty to me at the gate is now prepared to defend me (presumably to the death). What the hell am I supposed to feel about that?!?!

The train journey itself was possibly one of the slowest I have ever taken. Someone once described Israel as a Jewish attempt to turn a part of the Middle East into an American suburb. They have certainly inherited a disdain for public transport from across the Atlantic. But the spectacular thing was the chance to take in the scenery as the train cut through the wildnerness. The light was fading fast, but what I saw was nothing short of breathtaking. I am beginning to see why this wilderness play such a huge literal and metaphorical role in the Biblical story.

(By the way, Tel Aviv was ok, better bars and more relaxed/alive, a chance to see the Med in the early hours of the morning. Bit humid though.)

Holy Land - day 6

2008-07-18T15:19:00.012+01:00

We came back across the Wall today - and got a good look this time. Miles have been completed and where there are gaps, the ground looks as if it has already been prepared for building.

Others have spoken more eloquently than I ever could about what it has done to the landscape, let alone the prospects for peace, security or justice, so I won't try. As this is my first time here, I've not known anything else, so it's hard to imagine. But then I begin to hear the stories of people cut off from their homes, of ritual humiliations at checkpoints, that the Wall is symbolic of the radical disruption occupation brings to the Palestinian people. And I see the depression on the faces of those who knew the land before. I mentioned before the lack of graffitti. However, today we saw that someone bravely had taken the risk to scrawl simply:

CTRL + ALT + DEL

Back in Jerusalem, the rest of the day was supposed to be given over to mindless wandering and relaxation. I didn't count on the persistance of a rather rotund Armenian who 'encouraged' me to complete a pilgrimage of the Stations of the Cross along the Via Dolorosa. Bizarrely I was accompanied by a Canadian-Indian Hindu who insisted on touching everything we saw - very unhygienic methought! There was a moment when our little group of three found itself in the midst of a group of Jewish pilgrims heading through the Old City under armed guard. When one of the guards put his finger on the trigger of his pistol, I thought it was probably time to end our ecumenical encounter.

But that's not the best/worst bit! We arrive at the end of the pilgrimage in the courtyard outside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and our encouraged to offer a tip to our gracious guide and host. Enter the Israeli 'Tourist Police' who arrest the poor man and threaten him with a 5000 Shekel (over £750) fine and being banned from the Holy Sites for a period. Part of me was rightly royally fed up with having to hang around a police station for half an hour whilst the Police give us no information. Thankfully, though, he was released (but with a ban).

The only silver lining from this was the chance to talk to some of the Palestinian traders whilst we waited. They, of course, shrug their shoulders in wearisome resignation to the situation - an occupational hazard to life in Jerusalem. One of them met me later in a cafe and bought me one of my greatest culinary discoveries so far - lemon juice with fresh mint (truly, truly, truly delicious). Talk turned, as it inevitably does here, to religion and politics, the peace process or lack of it, occupation, land and refugees.

You know sometimes you find yourself on holiday and one of the locals tries to get overfriendly? All you want to do is install yourself in a quiet corner, read the book you've been trying to finish for ages, write at least ONE postcard, and basically watch the world go by. The last thing you want is to be engage in niceness, so your heart sinks when you catch them out of the corner of your eye. Well, mea culpa, I admit to feeling that when I first walked into that cafe. I was fed up with the behaviour of the police, guilty for my part in the humiliation of another human being. Half an hour later, those feelings had abated (a bit at least) and I didn't mind in the least that my book had gone unread.

You would think that was enough busyness for one day, but no. I had planned to meet up in West Jerusalem for dinner and was on my way there when the pilgrimage interrupted. So I headed to the very chi-chi (sp?) cafe we'd planned to meet - T'mol Shilshom. It's a cafe, a bookshop, a restaurant, and my guidebook tells me it's one of the few gay-friendly places in the city. Ideal, I hear you cry. Great Jewish veggie food, great atmosphere, great company.

From there to a gig (am I cool or wot?) in a bar across town. Past the place on Jaffa Street where a couple of weeks ago a Palestinian man drove a bulldozer into a bus, killing three, before being gunned down. Past also, one of the weirdest things I've ever seen - a group of ultraorthodox bobbing up and down in the middle of a square to some Jewish pop music. I was so shocked, I forgot to take pictures. Finally to a very cool bar and crowd ( so cool, only my Birkenstocks came close to fitting in). So I ended the night listening to an acoustic set, entirely in Hebrew, heavily influenced by the 60's, singing about friends killed in the war with Lebanon.

Just another day in Jerusalem ...

Holy Land - day 5

2008-07-17T08:03:00.010+01:00

The theme for today is: sheep and goats.

Most of today has been spent in interviews, curtains drawn from the intense sun and the air-conditioning set to 'arctic'. The candidates were understandably nervous and our job to distinguish between aspiration and reality. Signs are, though, that we have a good crop from which to choose.

We spent the evening in town. Ramallah is booming, with land prices through the roof and rents not far off London prices (I kid you not!) The place is full of 'internationals' - that's foreigners to you and me - those working for governments and NGOs and the ubiquitous press. We decided to hang out at a very swanky establishment frequented by said internationals and the well-heeled of Palestinian society. It could have been a bar anywhere, well, except the UK or Ireland, since we were able to sit outside and not get wet. I ordered my first Taybeh beer, a local brew and like all Paelstinian booze, made by Christians. It's good to know that one is helping one's brothers and sisters in the faith...

The restaurant was somewhat less posh and attracted a wider clientele. This was my first experience of a restaurant where what was ordered bore little resemblance to what was received. I'm sure, for example, that hummus isn't made with aubergine. Still, it was tasty, made more so by the local wine ...

As for sheep and goats, how does one separate fact from fiction here? I'm not just talking about the menu, but the idea that Ramallah is just another booming Middle Eastern city. Is it going to last, can it when there are so many factors pitted against it? We also began to have our first conversations about the rise of political religion. How are the Christians to respond to a more emphatic form of Islam? Should they retreat into their churches and become more Christian? Should differences be emphasised?

As in Western Europe there is a fear of what politicised Islam can and will do, especially to other minority faiths and communities in its midst. The answer has lain previously in embracing a form of secularism which privatises faith and clears the public arena - as far as possible - of religious conviction. The trouble is that this has led to a disjuncture between faith and politics, between distinctive inner values and outward politics aims. Perhaps the time has come to try to reconnect the inner and outer, and not to be afraid to be distinctive. This is not the time to ruch to consensus or to try to impose it from the outset. We are not 'all the same' nor should we try to underplay our differences. We need to trust the process of democratic engagement, of inclusive public discourse, as a means to finding common ground and shared values. But let's share our values first! I fear to do otherwise, to try to stem to tide of political religion by traditional secularism will not only not succeed, but will lead to a drowning out of any moderate/progressive voice and the inevitability of confrontation rather than dialogue.

In the parable of the sheep and the goats, the significant thing is that humans are not called to do the separation. Quite the opposite - the sheep and the goats must try to live together to the end.

Holy Land - day 4

2008-07-15T09:32:00.006+01:00

If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was in a Spanish resort in the 1980's. I open the curtains of my bedroom to the sight of a building site - lots of new apartment blocks and I dare say a couple of new hotels. We found out today that a new 5* hotel is planned in the city. Of course, I'm not on the Costa Brava, but in the Palestinian city of Ramallah, home to the Palestinian Authority, de facto capital of Palestine.

We arrived this morning, having successfully negotiated our way through the Wall. No wait at the checkpoint going in this direction - we hear there may be more difficulties getting back to Jerusalem. My first up close encounter with the Barrier as the Ramallah road runs alongside.

My guidebook gives lots of facts about the Wall - the amount of Palestinian land it effectively annexes, the cost of construction, the numbers of Palestinians now living west of it (and therefore cut off from the rest of the West Bank. I was therefore expecting a more emotional reaction to seeing it at first hand but it was all rather bland. I was in Belfast in May and was taken to the 'Peace Wall' that separates communities there. It all looked rather similar, the difference of course being that, in Belfast, both communities asked for it and it isn't an attempt to annexe land or disadvantage one side. I have, of course, been hearing stories of lives made almost unbearable by its presence and I shall probably feel differently when we have to return through the major checkpoint.

My walk from our very swanky hotel (swimming pool and everything!) into town saw me pass a new church under contruction beside a Christian graveyard. Like other places I've visited, Palestine is not built for pedestrians. The pavements are littered with debris of various kinds and the trees lining the road are a considerable obstacle to people of my height. Still, it's good to give the locals something to talk about as a strange Westerner tries to pic his way through their neighbourhood.

Friends will know my penchant for Parliamentary buildings of all kinds. I did manage to pass the home of the Palestinian Legislative Council, the closest Palestinians get to a parliament. What a disappointment! No grand architecture, not even terribly big, with a herd of goats (or are they sheep? Very difficult to tell in this part of the world) grazing peacefully outside. Think 1980's small office block with a few flags outside and you're practically there.

Ramallah itself is - how you say - crap! Bombay without the atmosphere. The highlight - and I mean hightlight - was the imaginatively named 'Star & Bucks' coffee house. I love it when huge corporations are ripped off, so I had to patronize it. Very nice icre-cream ordered from a menu in the shape of a table tennis bat. Outside, more shops selling shoes and bags - I'd no idea of the Palestinian Imelda Marcos collective syndrome.

There is an air of unreality about this place. Life, of course, continues, but at a fraction of its potential. The Palestinian Authority is not really in charge, but the pretence is that it controls this part of the West Bank. Palestinians do only that which is allowed to them and that doesn't seem to be very much.

We have been having conversations about what happens to an individual and a community when hope is absent. Am I witnessing that here? Talk of deals, of route maps, of independence even, is in the air. But in reality most people simply don't believe it. And it seems they are right. It's not cynicism - there is real reason to believe that with each passing day, the hopes of a viable independent Palestinian State look more and more ridiculous.

Holy Land - day 3 (apologies these aren't more inspiring titles!)

2008-07-14T12:19:00.010+01:00

I always find Sunday a bit of an odd day. Growing up in Northern Ireland, where the Bible-bashers told us we couldn’t work or play but must be enveloped in some sort of Sabbatical fug, has left me with militant ambivalence to the Lord’s Day. Of course, in this part of the world, it is basically the first day of the week for Israelis and just another day for the Palestinians.

Still feeling a little convicted to support the local Christians by a previous conversation, I decided to dress like a cleric and attend worship at the Anglican Cathedral. St George's has recently achieved prominence as the meeting place of GAFCON about which I blogged earlier (http://sammcbratney.blogspot.com/2008/07/gaff-con.html). The English-speaking service - led and mainly populated by American Episcopalians - was pretty sparce, but worth it for the lovely orange juice afterwards in the courtyard. Again, one is confronted with questions about the health and wellbeing of Palestinian Christianity, but I won't bore you ....

The thing I really want to share about today's experiences occurred in the evening. My colleague, Rosemary, and I planned to meet a former student at the venue for the Jerusalem Film Festival. Like all good film festivals, it's sponsored by Orange, and most of the offerings are served in a swanky arts centre overlooking the Jaffa Gate of the Old City. The setting was beautiful and the Golan Heights wine, crisp and light. But the view from the terrace offered an in sight into the surreality with which Israelis and Palestinians live. Look in one direction and the walls of the Old City are bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, whilst cars effortlessly skirt the ancient boundary on a brand new highway. A scene of near-perfect Mediterranean bliss. But remain in the same seat and turn your head 90 degrees; there in the near distance along the valley the Separation Wall is clearly visible, symbolic of the division, fear and mutual hostility that runs right through the whole of life in this place.

Like most restaurants and venues in West Jerusalem, the attempt at normality is only possible with armed guards watching you eat. What is 'normal' ... what is 'real'?

We got into a discussion over dinner about the idea of post-Zionism. The previous evening, I'd been to an Israeli bar and go into a conversation about patriotism. The Israeli with whom I spoke couldn't quite believe that a good part of being British was not really understanding what it meant to 'be British'. The little experience I've had of Israel so far leads me to ask serious questions of the Western trend towards multiculturalism and the effect that has on identity. Not so much to think that this is wrong, but more to doubt whether Israel will be able to uphold its policies on migration directed to maintaining a Jewish majority in the State. Because surely ethnicity or even religious commitment will not be enough to guarantee Israel as a Jewish State. Cohesion demands the adherence to a set of common goals or values - to a shared identity. Recent waves of immigation to Israel from Ethiopia and the former Soviet Union has undoubtedly challenged that cohesion and the very idea of a shared Jewish, and therefore Israeli, identity. Is there hope for a post-Zionism that absolutely upholds the need and right for Israel to exist as a Jewish homeland, but embraces a communal identity that is plural, hyphenated and dynamic?

Holy Land - day 2

2008-07-13T07:20:00.004+01:00

I'm beginning to worry for my soul! I decided to try out - if that's the right term - some of the religious sites since, well, they're right on the doorstep.

First stop: the Garden Tomb, unearthed by General Gordon in the late 19th century, and now preserved by a bunch of, mainly English, volunteers. A beautiful garden - they've done wonders with pot plants! - near the local bus station. Admittedly, the hill overlooking the bus station does look a little like a skull (the meaning of Golgotha or Calvary) and there is a tomb, but I couldn't help feeling it was all a bit contrived. In no way do I want to diminish the faith of those many, mainly US, pilgrims armed with their Bibles circumnavigating the garden. In fact, I envy them a bit. But I left with nothing other than a few postcards.

Another thing concerned me as I talked to those running the show in the garden - where were the Palestinian Christians? They talked of foreign volunteers helping out, and I saw Israeli guides, but not a Palestinian in sight. This despite the fact the tomb is located in East Jerusalem. Those who know me will vouch that I am no sectarian and am an active participant in interfaith dialogue. But I can't help feeling that the demise of Christianity in the land of its birth is a story that is not being told. Two factors reinforce this view.

I have been wanting to read William Dalrymple's From the Holy Mountain for a while and my first visit to the Holy Land seemed like the ideal opportunity. Basically Dalrymple follows in the footsteps of a sixth century monk around the churches of the Middle East. Though it's now hard to imagine, in those days Christianity was the dominant religion of the Middle East and so it was not hard for the pilgrim monk to find refuge in Christian towns and monasteries dotted all over the landscape. Fast forward 1500 years or so and the picture is pretty depressing. The destruction of the Church in Turkey (I've only read the first 100 pages) is heart-breaking. Not only were over a million Armenian Christians massacred in 1915, or Greeks expelled from Anatolia in the 20's, but the harassment of vulnerable local clergy and people still goes on in the present day. Ignorant Muslim extremists tell monks to go back to Europe, little realising that the monastic community they insult was founded before the birth of Muhammed.

I also had the good fortune to bump into a local cleric and chat over coffee. He relayed his experiences of travel to Gaza and in the West Bank and again, the picture was not encouraging. He still found it difficult to compute that Western Christians found it easy to have affinity with Israeli Jews whilst, at the same time, completely ignoring Palestinian Christians. No wonder then that the population of Christians is plummeting as families take the chance of a better life in the West. He challenged me to wear a cross when I wasn't in uniform as an act of solidarity with my beleaguered brothers and sisters.

Back to my soul ... I went from there to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the traditional site of the Crucifixion and tomb of Christ. Lots of pilgrims, a beautiful church, a grumpy old priest shouting at people in short-sleeves and shorts (not exactly a fresh expression!) - all the ingredients for a spiritual experience. Again, nothing. Perhaps if I thought this was the actual site, things would be different.

Or maybe I'm just more Protestant than I thought...

Holy Land - day 1

2008-07-11T20:48:00.003+01:00

Well, I'm here at last. After a very long time spent in 'El Al' security at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, and a rather crummy flight, I touched down in Tel Aviv in the very early hours of Friday morning. I was a bit apprehensive of travel to the region but the overwhelming emotion on first arrival was one of extreme annoyance. I still cannot quite believe I allowed my human rights to be violated in the way they were. I wonder if this is what will result in Britain from the current wave of anti-terror legislation.

More than once I have been asked today what I thought of Jerusalem/Israel/Palestine. It's rather too early to say, but I suppose I have a couple of first impressions.

Firstly, it's very small! I got a taxi from the Airport in Tel Aviv to Jerusalem and was there in under an hour. I hear that most of the country can be reached in a day's travel. I expected, with such a small area, to see people everywhere. That was certainly my impression of India - people absolutely everywhere, in deserts, river deltas, up mountains. Of course, I am yet to make a proper visit to the West Bank, where I might find a different story.

India has been in my mind more than once today. Wandering from my hotel to the Old City, along cracked pavements and dusty roads, with the smell of rotting garbage in the air was strangely reminiscient. The smells were intensified when inside the walls of the Old City itself, its narrow streets and unwashed pavements. A strange and heady concoction of the sweet smells of herbs, spices and confectionary mixed with body odour and mouldy fruit. This is not the developed world by any stretch of the imagination.

It is of course Friday, Shabbat, and so I took the opportunity to see West Jerusalem after 3pm. What a contrast to the East - like a traditional Sunday in the more religious parts of Britain. Not quite 28 days later but pretty close. Really quite serene, well until, that is, time came for Shabbat prayers. By that time I was heading back into the Old City, only to be caught up in the tide of ultraorthodox heading for the Western Wall.

But the lasting impression of today will be the view of Jerusalem as I travelled in at dawn. The picture of the twinkle of the street lights and early morning traffic silhouetted against the pink sky was truly outstanding.

Gaff ... ? Con ...?

2008-07-01T10:22:00.005+01:00

So the inevitable has begun to happen - the Anglican Communion, long a loose federation of at least two churches, is rearranging itself to express that reality. Though the presenting causes are gays and women, I'm sure another pretext would have been found to meet the needs of the likes of Peter Akinola for power and status.

This is not bad news by any means. At last, the Anglican Church in its progressive form is released for mission and ministry. No longer does it have to put up with, or in some case defend, the indefensible words and actions of so-called fellow Anglicans. Akinola and his cronies have already shown their true colours by refusing to condemn the massacre of Muslims or the torture of gay people. And the fact that Robert Mugabe is one of GAFCON's strongest supporters is a gift for the progressives.

The bullies of the Anglican Communion want to take their bat home - excellent (it wasn't a very good bat anyway!) What is left is not a rump but perhaps a remnant - a smaller, less powerful church (in temporal terms) but one better equipped to deal with mission in the contemporary world. It will take a while, I'm sure, but I can foresee a new more self-confident Anglicanism arising to take its place alongside others in the Christian family.

I hope that when that happens, those of us from other Protestant traditions will be embraced rather than shunned. Rome under its current regime may not be interested in talking with an inclusive Anglicanism, but some of us would argue that's why we had a Reformation. The primacy of conscience is something to be prized and not subjugated to some vague notion of unity. So I urge progressive Anglicans to renew and nurture their links with Methodists, Lutherans and Presbyterians as we seek to serve the present age.

The Golden Rule

2008-06-26T10:28:00.002+01:00

It came as a very welcome surprise to see the statement issued yesterday by Evangelical leaders and others in the US, calling on the President to ban the use of torture (see http://www.ekklesia.co.uk/node/7377)

Here is a statement that is clear and unequivocal - torture is morally wrong, certainly, but it actually doesn't work, loses the US the moral high ground (if we do it to them, they have every right to do it to us) and undermines the security it seeks to protect. It also points up for all democratic governments and parties the need to reiterate the values upon which their politics are based. If all such governments are bombarded with, in the words of MacMillan, 'events, dear boy, events', then knowing what you won't do becomes increasingly important.

I don't expect our leaders to be philosophers, spending each night deep in thoughtful reflection about the actions they have taken during the day and how it all fits into a comprehensive metanarrative. But I do expect them to have a philosophy, something which anchors their policies and their actions (often two different things these days) and prevents them drifting into dangerous waters. The evidence against Government by Management Consultants is piling up - just because something works in the short-term doesn't make it good/right/acceptable.

Of course, a nano-second's thought about the use of torture to uphold freedom and democracy should have pointed up the abhorrent inconsistencies. Still, let this be a lesson to all of us - and thank you to the evangelicals for holding our leaders to the highest democratic standards!

London's Government - part II

2008-04-25T10:24:00.003+01:00

Theo raises a good point about the funding of London's government. I have to admit that I thought the GLA also raised money through their part of the Council Tax. Any increased powers to the Mayor which have revenue implications (especially if those powers are removed from the Boroughs) would surely just mean a redistribution of the total Council Tax income (and the corresponding block Grant from the Treasury)?

I think voters should be made much more aware of local (and London) government finances. If, for example, they knew that 75% of money spent on local services was paid for out of national income and consumer taxes, and therefore related to ability to pay, they might question the Lib Dem's 'local' income tax replacing Council Tax. I favour the block grant being turned into a 'local' income tax raised nationally and redistributed as now. In London, there might be an argument for showing local voters how much of their 'local' income tax goes to the Mayor and how much to the Borough. Furthermore, I would be open to the suggestion that the proportion of local government financed through the asset-based Council Tax should be reduced.

Voters like to vote for people who they think have power to control, manage and therefore change things. They stay at home for elections where the outcome doesn't seem to affect their pockets. My argument is that we endorse the principal of subsidiarity and give the voters something to get out of bed for!

London's Government

2008-04-21T12:52:00.002+01:00

The London Mayoral and GLA elections are less than a fortnight away and it gives us another chance to reflect on why we have this tier of government and how it might be improved.

When Tony Blair recreated a London-wide body, he deliberately limited its powers to thwart the likes of Ken Livingstone. Eight years on, whilst Ken has done a fantastic job with what he was given, now is the time for a re-think.

I've been watching The Wire on DVD and its insight into the political life of the City of Baltimore. Being the geek that I am, I've done some research and discovered that City Council is elected alongside the Mayor every four years. There are 14 Councillors who have the power to initiate legislation and hold the Mayor to account. In addition, the President of the Council is elected on a City-wide ballot.

I also looked at New York's system. They have 51 Councillors, again able to initiate laws as well as to scrutinise the work of Michael Bloomberg.

All this leads me to suggest that London's system needs some reform. We adopted the American system of a single office-holder as the Executive but failed to put in place the American system of checks and balances. Of course I want Ken to succeed but London democracy also needs to be nurtured. My solution is:

1. Assembly constituencies to be increased to 32, corresponding to the Boroughs (City of London to be included in either Westminster or Islington).

2. Members to be elected in the same way as the Mayor, by the Alternative Vote System.

3. The top-up members to be increased to 18, allocated on the basis of the AV cast in the constituencies.

4. The Chair of the Assembly to be elected separately on a London-wide basis at the same time as the Mayor.

5. The Assembly to be given the power to initiate some legislation, which can be vetoed by the Mayor.

This would create a legislative body of 51, meaning that each Borough would have an Assembly member, and the system for election would be simplified. In future, voters would still have three votes (all using AV) - for Mayor, Chair of Assembly, and local and top-up Assembly members.

Better accountability for Mayor and Assembly, better visibility for Assembly members, better for London.

Honours for Ireland

2008-04-21T11:22:00.003+01:00

In 1922, the Most Illustrious Order of St Patrick, founded in 1783, was suspended. Since then, the Irish Free State and then the Republic of Ireland has failed to adopt an Honours system to reward service in and to the State. Sean Lemass mooted the idea of a revival of the Order in the 60s but never got round to it. Bertie Ahern has said something similar recently. It is a national scandal that we must leave it to other countries to honour the achievements of Irish citizens.

Well, let's get on with it! No need to think too hard - simply revive the Order of St Patrick, give it two or three classes - Member (MStP), Officer (OStP), Companion (CStP) - to represent levels of service/contribution, and make the President of the Republic the Chancellor of the Order. A sub-committee of the Council of State which currently advises the President on constitutional matters could be convened to vet appointments to the Order.

Might it even be possible for there to be a Northern Section of the Order for the residents of Northern Ireland? The Queen or Secretary of State might offer gongs to those who don't want to receive them from the Irish President.

Honours - time for change

2008-04-21T10:52:00.003+01:00

I've had it up to here with people telling me that the British Honours system is part of our ancient tradition and therefore can't be changed. You don't have to do too much research to discover that the vast majority of gongs handed out twice a year were invented in the 20th century. The Order of Merit, Companions of Honour, Order of the British Empire and Life Peerages were created after 1900 to reward British people in their service to the state. Whilst there are other much older orders, the numbers receiving awards such as the Order of the Bath or the Garter are so small that we may almost discount them.

So what's the problem with having a revamp for awards, some of which are less than 100 years old? And let's use the opportunity to uncouple the Honours system from class, where the posh receive the top gongs and the plebs must be satisfied with an MBE.

I suppose whilst we have a monarchy, they will hang on for grim death to the pomp and ceremony of things like the Order of the Garter. But for the rest, why not have two orders to cover the vast majority of awards to be made:

- the Order of Merit (OM) (currently restricted to 24 members) which could be expanded in number and given to those who have made an outstanding literary, scientific, artistic or scholarly contribution to British life;

and

- the Order of British Excellence (OBE) which could be reduced to two classes - Member and Officer - and given for outstanding service in the community, education, health, civil service, diplomatic corps or military?

We could therefore do away with obscure stuff like the Order of the Bath and the RVO, and stop the scramble for honours which currently infects parts of our national life. A simple honours system which rewards genuine service and merit - is it too much to ask?

non-conformity?

2008-04-02T09:41:00.003+01:00

In the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, one of the formative forces of politics and society was the so-called 'non-conformist conscience'. First the Liberals and then the Labour Movement found rich resources in the radical tradition of non-establishment Christianity to inspire and motivate them in their drive to transform society. So why is it that by the time we reached the 21st century, non-conformity had all but disappeared from the horizon? Is it because we've all become managerial?

In politics, in the church, as well as at work, we've seen a gradual but profound move away from leadership towards management. Where leadership prizes and embodies vision, ideas and risk, management seeks to minimize their impact. We're told over and over again that what voters and congregants like is continuity and competence. We expect those who watch over us to come from a similar mould to their predecessors. We expect CONFORMITY.

Is that really true? Look at politics for example. In London, the fight for Mayor is between Ken Livingstone and Boris Johnston, both of whom made their reputations as mavericks in their respective parties. If anything, Livingstone is now losing votes because he's seen as too conformist. Boris is the wacky one - and boy, is he wacky! The closeness of the race is an indication that people want more than competence from their leaders. It shows up the paucity of real leadership that Boris Johnston is counted worthy of any votes at all!

I think also of my own Methodist tradition. Not quite a Non-Conformist Church in the historical sense, but a part of that non-established tradition of Christianity which helped to form the radical side of British politics. Where is it now? Our jargon, our structures, our ethos all smack of management, risk-averse, competent (though that's debatable), safe. We dare not speak out in case we upset or offend. Success is measured relative to the status quo.

In a society which has forgotten the rules of debate and disagreement, non-conformity surely still has a mission. Learning to live with those with whom we disagree at the deepest level is a prize worth fighting for. And that's what non-conformity offers: in the Christian church, different but equally valid ways of believing. More than that, a way of living that is content to be a minority.

Maybe it's just my personality type, but I find the idea of conformity about as appealing as a straitjacket! I hope I'm not alone ...

A bull in China's shop(window)!

2008-03-25T11:57:00.003Z

As the Beijing Olympics looms ever larger on the horizon, I'm beginning to feel a little nauseous. Not because I find the prospect of weeks and weeks of wall-to-wall coverage of sports in itself disturbing. There will be the usual spectacle of torch-lighting and speech-making, of flags and anthems - and the inevitable post-mortems around the poor performance of the British team, no doubt. What causes me increasing angst is the venue.

For the past few days, we have heard (and been prevented from seeing) the stories of brutal repression in Tibet. The demonstrations of a few brave monks have been put down with a ferocity reminiscent of Tienanmen Square. Possibly hundreds have been killed or injured for exercising their basic human rights. The reaction to such abuses? Muted at best. And the anxiety expressed has not been about whether such abuses will continue or escalate or about the fate of the Tibetan people, but rather whether this will affect the Olympic torch's journey to Beijing! Surely someone has skewed priorities?

Don't get me wrong - I'm not a purist when it comes to international relations or indeed the Olympic Games. Who can forget, for example, the ghastly image of the famous rings fluttering next to Nazi swastikas in the Berlin Games of 1936? But isn't it time there was a realistic assessment of how successful the policy of pragmatic engagement has been with the People's Republic? Nixon was probably right to suggest that engagement was better than a Cold War stand off with Mao. But times have changed. Mao is gone and capitalism is taking hold in this vast empire (and I use that word advisedly). Yet the promise that respect for human rights and liberal democracy would be seen riding on the crest of the capitalist wave has simply failed to materialise. Instead we see naked power backed by increasing wealth beginning to flex its muscles on the world stage. Is it enough to hope for the best whilst China still occupies, not only Tibet, but also parts of India?

The world's great faiths have had to learn the hard way the importance of dialogue. Wars, persecutions, various waves of hostility and discrimination litter the history of relationships between various religions. However, the end of the last century and the beginnings of this one give some substance to the belief that real and fruitful dialogue is occurring. But dialogue is only real when both parties speak and both listen. In dialogue, the traffic must be two-way as must the movement. If the purpose of dialogue is increased understanding and the transformation of a relationship, then the willingness and commitment to change must reside in all the parties.

Relations with China show the limitations of dialogue. I cannot see much willingness on the part of the Chinese Communist Party either to change or even much to listen to the concerns of the International Community. It still executes more people each year than the rest of the world put together. It still represses religious movements and severely curtails political and cultural freedoms. It seems the only concession the Party has afforded its people is the freedom to make money!

Of course, I'll watch the Beijing Games like everyone else. But placing the high ideals of fairness and integrity next to the symbols of oppression and fear will still cause my stomach to churn!

Is Methodism finished?

2008-03-17T17:28:00.006Z

In 2005, the General Secretary of the Methodist Church in Great Britain give an interview to the Spectator magazine. Only God will know why it was the Spectator, but nevertheless the contents of the article make sad yet interesting reading.

http://www.spectator.co.uk/archive/features/13064/the-faithful-departed.thtml?SelectedIssueDate=8%20January%202005

We're now three years on and it seems that the decline is increasingly reaching a critical point. Whilst membership declines relatively steadily, the number of buildings is lagging behind. That means fewer members spread ever more thinly. Yet, whilst the worship centres stay open (and the number of meetings and services required to keep them functioning remains stubbornly high) the amount of ministers in the active work is about to drop significantly. More than that, it would seem that the projected rate of decline in ministers will actually speed up when we enter the second decade of this century. It's not a pretty picture...

Does that mean that Methodism is finished in the place where it was born? Already it is said that there are too few Methodists in Britain to warrant a flag in the map of World Methodism at HQ in Lake Junaluska. Are we about to slip under, never to return?

I'm not by nature a pessimist. I generally think that things can get better. But I'm also a realist and don't believe that death is always a bad thing. As a Methodist minister, I am deeply troubled by the potential demise of the denomination which gives me that privilege. My journey to ordination led me through some of the glories of Methodist theology and practice and I have been greatly enriched by the works I have read and the people I have served. But I have to face reality - Christianity demands nothing less. The decline is uneven and is causing distress to lay people and to ministers in terms of occupational stress.

There are a number of responses to this crisis. Some think we should embark on a major recruitment drive especially among the young. This reminds me of a story that Donald English told about a fellow church leader. This leader was taken on a tour of the zoo during his term of office and was shown the prize exhibit: a lion lying down with a lamb. He was suitably impressed by this foretast of the beatific vision and asked the head keeper how he had amanged to achieve this. 'Very simple,' replied the proud keeper. 'Just a fresh supply of lambs!'

I wonder whether embarking on a recruitment drive at this stage when we have failed to address retention issues or occupational stress is like providing fresh lambs - short-termism and even irresponsible.

I have no grand answers to this predicament - if only I did! But I wonder whether we're not looking at it in the wrong way. For starters, is there a danger in this approach of confusing Methodism (as a movement) with the insitutional Methodist Church? Put another way, if the Methodist Church were to die, would that mean that Methodism and its value would also disappear? You may detect in the way that I have phrased the question that I don't believe so. In fact, the next few years, I believe, should be focussed on separating out Methodist values from those institutions which, for better or worse, have contained and preserved them. What is it that makes Methodism as a set of emphases, worth preserving?

As we embark on that project, so the new structures needed to carry those values forward will, hopefully, become clearer to us. There is no point trying to contruct the vessel before we know what we want to carry in it. But it does mean that we must sit much more lightly to current structures and remember that any new structures must be as provisional and flexible as possible.

I, like most Methodists, have begun the process of mourning the loss of a much loved institution (infuriating as it often was). But I must also hold onto the Gospel of resurrection and pray that death will not have the final word...

Ian Paisley - icon of hope?

2008-03-13T18:20:00.001Z

Revd Dr Ian R.K. Paisley is stepping down. He has already relinquished the post of Moderator of the Free Presbyterian Church of Ulster, a post he has led for over fifty years. He will retire from the post of First Minister of Northern Ireland in the early summer.

This truly marks the end of an era in Irish and British politics. For most of his political and religious career, Paisley stood against compromise and change. His voice boomed across the political landscape and it hailed a resounding ‘NO!’ Yet, last May, to the astonishment of his most loyal supporters, he changed, moving from opposition to government with a surprising dexterity. For many who have followed the Troubles, this transition has been nothing short of miraculous: the ‘no’ finally became ‘yes’.

This moment causes us to reflect…

… firstly on the nature of dialogue. Yitzhak Rabin, the Israeli Prime Minister who paid the ultimate price for his peace-making activities, once said that you don’t have to make peace with your friends, but with your enemies. Although the Irish Peace Process was led by moderates, it had no possibility of success without the extremists. But the fact that Ian Paisley and Martin McGuiness are now in government does not mean that either have given up long-cherished beliefs and ambitions. Paisley still favours the Union with Britain; McGuiness still longs and works for a United Ireland. The dialogue of peace is about a commitment to work together on a common agenda – it is not about believing the same things.

… secondly, there is something about the relationship between religion and politics. It was reported recently that the Free Presbyterian Church which Paisley helped to found was now introducing a moratorium on its ministers holding high political office. That will not affect Paisley himself, but there are other ministers working as MPs, Assembly Members and Ministers, and local councillors. The reason given was the lack of time ministers were giving to their congregations. But is there also an element of retreat in the decision of this highly-politicised denomination? As much as one might abhor some of the hardline rhetoric of the Free P’s, no-one could question their commitment to engagement with the wider world. At a time when those in public life are looking to engage more deeply with faith communities, we have to ask whether the faiths are either willing or equipped to answer government’s call.

… finally, there is democracy itself. Research has been carried out about the rise and role of the Far Right in the politics of Western Europe. Whilst most of us are revolted at any politics which smacks of racism or exclusion, we have seen more people prepared to vote for politicians airing such views. This is particularly true of the majority working-class populations. However, when such parties have achieved power, it has often resulted in an internal party crisis. The main reason majority working-class voters turn to these parties is because they are anti-establishment, engaging in the politics of opposition. Entering government means becoming the establishment and, by definition, betraying that core support.

Whilst I would never accuse Ian Paisley of racism, the DUP set itself up as the voice of the Protestant working-class and so operated in similar ways to Far Right parties. The responsibility of government has led the DUP to review its own position and become more moderate. By the next election, it will have to defend its record and look for support from a much wider constituency because some of its core voters will desert them. This is surely a victory for democracy, where extreme parties are drawn from the margins into the mainstream, imbibing the values of cooperation on the way.

Well, we can but hope …

John D. Caputo, On Religion, 2001

2007-11-04T14:24:00.001Z

I bought this book on the recommendation of someone who came to me for a pastoral conversation. I am ashamed to say that it sat on my shelf for three years before I got around to reading it. I now want to shout from the (metaphorical) rooftops how much I loved it!

This seems like a tiny book, having only 141 pages. Don't be fooled - the depth of the arguments Caputo deploys is nothing less than profound. I don't know the author, but I would like to attend his lectures because his writing comes across almost as evangelical preaching at times. Be prepared to spend some time over this book. I found that I could only read a little at a time and then spend time savouring the words and thoughts. Perhaps like a good Pinot Noir (which I recommend as an accompaniment).

The five short chapters offer, among other things, a surprising definition of religion, an analysis and critique of Enlightenment secularism, and some fantastic insights into the religious underpinnings of Stars Wars! As someone who assiduously avoided anything philosophical in his undergraduate studies, this is a gentle yet passionate introduction to the foundations of religious thought. It makes me want to venture deeper into the ideas of Derrida and other modern philosophers (though whether that actually happens remains to be seen!)

I hear from others that Caputo specialises in post-modern theory and this set of writings reveals something of the mind of one who has spend considerable time thinking about where we are as a human community. I was particularly taken with the idea that, as human beings, we actually might not need the certainty we crave with regard to a final authority or a definitive narrative. Whilst religion marks humanity's quest for ultimate Truth, perhaps it is also a mark of the impossibility of the task. For most religious people, Truth is that which is beyond our grasp, BY DEFINITION, and thus stands in judgement on our definitions and authorities.

Caputo puts a compelling case for the provisionality of all human understandings and authorities, including those bearing the name of God. Some religious leaders would do well to heed the warnings he so convincingly articulates.

What are we to do with faith schools?

2007-11-02T00:02:00.000Z

Why is there so much angst around faith schools? Can it really be that people are worried that the Church of England (who run most faith schools in England) is running brainwashing seminars in its primary schools? Surely that would involve Anglicans actually agreeing on what they believed before they try to coerce youngsters into the fold?

Before I go on, I should say that, though I am a Christian clergy person, I am not in any way committed to the idea of faith schools. But neither am I opposed to them on principle. Mainly that's because I don't believe that a secular education is a neutral education. I think that ALL education is value-driven and the question is about what sort.

I am also very concerned that some of the hostility caused by this issue is actually a fear of Islam. I suppose the argument goes that if we allow faiths to run schools then, in the interests of fairness, Muslims must be allowed 'their own schools'. Because the popular image of Islam is of a doctrinaire religion, then the motive to run schools must be indoctrination.

Assuming we can't start from scratch, the question is where to go from here. A quarter of all children currently attend a faith-based school. There are different sorts, but I assume the main form of faith school is 'Voluntary Aided' where the faith community puts in 10% of the funding and gets a large say in the running of the school, some say in the curriculum, and appointments to the Governing Body. Controversially, they also get a say over intake. Some faith communities choose to exert a lot of influence over the local school, others less so. In my own experience, some have completely forgotten that they were ever so classified.

Would it take most of the heat out of the debate if we took away the power to choose any of the pupils? I can't understand why they ever had the power in the first place, or indeed wanted it. I would have thought that any mission-minded religion would want to use the a faith school as a shop window to as many non-members as possible. This is the chance to reach the 'unchurched' or 'unmosqued'. Here is an opportunity to educate and inform. Opening the chance to all locals is good business, potentially.

That may get a few secular backs up, of course. Isn't that why we're against faith schools, because they give the chance to proselytise? Here's where the state can again ensure good practice. After all, 90% of the funding continues to come from the state. If the Muslim community want to run a madrassah, or the Church a Sunday School, they should rightly be asked to fund that themselves. An appropriate nationally-agreed curriculum in subjects including RE and Citizenship and a rigorous inspection system should help to achieve a school that is not a centre for brainwashing. As we basically have that already, there are no serious cost implications in this proposal.

The question, I suppose might be, why would faith communities accept such a deal? They would accept it if they were genuinely community-minded and interested in the best education for all. They get a chance to 'show their wares' to a wider audience who would never otherwise darken their doors. They get to set ethos but not coerce adherence to a particular set of beliefs. That's a good deal of influence and publicity for little investment.

The state also wins. Not only is there the 10% (and why not make it 25%?) funding, but a local partner who brings a lot of social capital to the table. If the local authority could encourage faith communities to work together in their sponsorship either with another faith or a university or charity, then think of the benefits. Of course, any voluntary sponsor would have to prove their bona fides and commitment to a broad-based education.

Upping the amount and doing away with selection should weed out those interested only in creating ghettoised schools for their own community and using tax-payers' money to do it. We might end up with a system that is open and inclusive, both secular and faith-sensitive. You never know ...

what makes a terrorist?

2007-11-01T23:12:00.001Z

Earlier this year, City University launched a series of lectures entitled, 'Bloody Terrorists!' I went to the first one and was a bit disappointed frankly. I expected a more rigorous analysis of the context rather than a pseudo-academic rant at the dodgy foreign policies of Western governments. I was left with even bigger questions at the end.

Yesterday, I attended the conference, 'Preventing Extremism, Strengthening Communities', organised by the DCLG, the Home Office and ACPO. There we were, hundreds of police officers, civil servants, local govt bodes, the Muslim intelligentsia, and me, trying to get a handle on how to prevent violent extremism perpetrated in the name of Islam.

After all that - and a little bit of reading in between - I am still left with the question, 'What makes a terrorist?' It is far too easy to blame Islam per se for spawning people who commit atrocities such as 9/11 or 7 July, though I think the secular suspicion of all forms of religion is still very present in the room. When are we going to get to talk about that particular elephant, I wonder?

But if Islam - or religion in general - is only good at starting wars or breeding hate, why is it that the vast majority of believers DON'T take up arms or strap on explosives? Why indeed are there faith-based organisations committed to the eradication of violence involving believers putting themselves in harm's way to bring peace?

Terrorists must never be allowed to justify their actions as faith-inspired. They were, are, and remain misanthropic criminals who will face justice in the end. However, the presence of terrorists who claim religion as their cause should challenge all faithful people of good will to seek to ask difficult questions of themselves and their coreligionists. Religious people themselves need to tackle the issues raised by human rights, the status of women, sexuality. Secularists need to be given space to raise their doubts about the value of any belief or ritual, and in turn must be prepared to hear religious critiques of the Enlightenment settlement in an increasingly post-secular world.

It feels as if we are at the very beginnings of a struggle to build a foundation for our new society of peace and trust. The only sure building materials we can rely on are honesty, friendship, and a renewed spirit of hospitality. All of this begins with some plain-speaking.

Does God REALLY hate fags?!

2007-10-17T10:54:00.000+01:00

The past couple of weeks have been personally interesting in the area of gays and christianity. No, this is not directly related to the horrid stuff going on with the Episcopal Church and not-so-very-Christian behaviour of Peter Akinola, Archbishop of Nigeria, and leader of the Church of I Hate You (to paraphrase the West Wing). There have been some bad things and some good things...

First the bad. I was at my University's Freshers' Fair recently, just minding my own business and trying deperately to attract the attention of keen new students. Little did I know that a group of hardcore fundamentalist sharks were lurking among the shoals of harmless fresher plankton! To cut a long story short, I was verbally attacked for about half an hour about being gay and Christian, even to the point of being called 'a dirty pervert'. It was aggressive, relentless bullying, devoid of any humanity and certainly any Christian love. The sheer hatred in their eyes was quite scary. But what always strikes me about these, now thankfully infrequent, encounters, is the intimate knowledge homophobes have of sexual practices. Their statistical analysis of anal sex was staggering and quite beyond anything I have ever discovered among gay men. Why the obsession?

Now the good. I received an email from a friend yesterday about a relatively new organisation called Accepting Evangelicals (http://www.acceptingevangelicals.org/). These evangelicals quite rightly want to distance themselves from the herd of homophobes who misuse the title (I mean afterall it is supposed to mean 'good news'!) and affirm loving same-sex parternships. It's a step in the right direction, a bit like Nestle offering fairtrade products. I am particularly pleased to see the founder of Courage, a now ex- ex-gay organisation, among the membership, having repented of his previous life trying to make gay people straight. 'There is more rejoicing in heaven, etc, etc...'.

I wish this organisation well, as it drives a coach and horses through the idea that an evangelical understanding of the Bible automatically means homophobia. Akinola and his minions will have to find some other authority upon which to base their prejudice. For thoughtful, biblical evangelicals, I challenge them to make a stand and join Accepting Evangelicals immediately!

You don't have to be mad to be a Tory ...

2007-10-16T21:02:00.000+01:00

A High Court judge has finally come out with what many of us have long suspected - supporting the Tories is linked to being off your trolley! The confirmation came in a judgement in the tragic case of Mr Bane Kostic, a multi-millionaire who donated £8m to the Conservative Party in his will. This was contested by the family on the grounds what Mr Kostic was delusional at the time of making his will. He had spent the final years of his life in a state of increasing paranoia, abusing his wife and believing himself to be on a mission to overcome evil forces. In this, he actively sought the help of Mrs Thatcher and others (little did he know that they had already gone over the dark side!).

In a summary of the court proceedings, the Guardian reported the judge, Mr Justice Henderson, as saying: "The surviving letters which [Bane] sent to Mrs Thatcher, David Mellor and others makes it clear, in my view, that there was a definite connection between Bane's deluded beliefs and his relationship with the Conservative Party."
[emphasis mine]

Thank God this was spotted before it was too late - one wonders how many other cases have slipped through the net ...?

Hospitality

2007-09-13T17:45:00.000+01:00

(Sermon preached at St Giles' Cripplegate on Suday 2nd September 2007 based on Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16; Luke 14:1,7-14)

There has been a lot in the papers in recent days about the effect being a ‘child of the manse’ has on individuals. From Prime Minister, Gordon Brown to TV celebrity David Frost, much has been made of the public service ethos instilled in them from a young age, whether or not they have gone on to embrace the faith of their parents. Wendy Alexander, the leader of the Scottish Labour Party, grew up in a Kirk manse with her brother, Douglas, the Secretary of State for International Development. She recounts how, as a child, she was asked to lay the table in the manse every Wednesday for their ‘homeless lunch’ when the family would foreswear meat on their plates in order to provide for those less fortunate.

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels unawares Heb 13:2

[Jesus said:] And you will be blessed, for they cannot repay you … Luke 14:14

There is much that can be said about these two readings. The writer of Hebrews may well be referring to the incident at Mamre in the Hebrew Bible, where Abraham entertained three strangers only to discover they were visitors from God. This image was captured so beautifully by Andrei Rublev in his icon in the 15th century. Or we could talk of the importance of food and eating in the Judaeo-Christian Scriptures and tradition. Not only that, but eating together forms one of the commonalities between most religious traditions in the world. For Christians, however, it has become the central act of worship in the Eucharistic meal.

But it is that word, HOSPITALITY, I want to concentrate on this morning. Within it lies, I believe, the key to the whole Gospel. What does hospitality involve? It is about offering a welcome, a place of meeting, not on neutral ground, but within one’s own comfort zone. It involves a degree of calculated vulnerability, opening our home to outsiders in the hope that they will not abuse our trust. Still today there are connotations of status, in that we offer dignity and equality to our guests by sharing our table, shown vividly to us in the picture painted of the Alexander family’s mealtimes. This sense is not as strong in our day as it would have been to Jesus’ hearers in Luke’s Gospel, for the Middle Eastern culture of the time was extremely stratified and eating was a way of confirming those divisions not overcoming them. Still today, in Bedouin Arab culture, to eat with another – to offer hospitality – is to enter into a bond of fellowship that carries with it many obligations. A former tutor of mine from theological college days used to tell us of his exploits whilst teaching in the Middle East. His research concluded that Bedouin culture was remarkably similar to that which existed in the first century. Then, as now, hospitality is about strengthening the ties that bind, about the joy and celebration of love and the recognition of commitments between family and friends.

As usual in the Gospel, Jesus takes something his audience knows very well and offers a surprising twist. What he is saying is: Take all that you know about hospitality, prepare well, get out the best china, and then invite STRANGERS. And not just any strangers – those considered the most UNCLEAN in your society. And furthermore, make sure before you offer them hospitality that they CAN’T repay you. Jesus challenges his hearers to go beyond the limits of enlightened self-interest, the idea that if I scratch your back then ultimately, in time you’ll scratch mine. He wants to RADICALISE hospitality so that it overcomes society’s divisions and does not simply confirm them. And not only within his society, but he wants hospitality to stretch beyond Israel and embrace the Gentile too.

Jesus knows to whom he speaks: these are the professional classes, those with power and influence. They’re the dinner-party set, challenged to change their behaviour in order to build a different sort of society. And even to construct a different geo-politics! It is not enough for them to do what Jesus commands in their professional lives, he wants them in their personal life also to model this way of service.

It is the model for a diverse society which is not based on assimilation, or tolerance, or even acceptance. When we invite people to dinner, we welcome difference into our midst. We make space for discussion, even debate – I for one have been guilty for starting more than one row over the dinner table! We offer encounter and expect in the act of hospitality to be changed as much as to influence our guests. There’s mutuality, there’s respect, there is an offering at the heart of our welcome. More than that: there is a desire to break out of the old patterns of relationship built on power, wealth or status. A pattern of relationship reflected as much between nations as individuals. We are asked to create boundaries that are not hermetically sealed whether they are the walls of houses, or the borders of our country. Every boundary, every border must have a door, a threshold across which we invite strangers to step. This creates an uncomfortable space, but it is a space which is loaded with potential. For love is not Christian love unless it takes risks and makes itself vulnerable.

In this hospitality, there is modelled for us nothing less than a transformative way of living. Perhaps also, for our times, it offers a model for a multicultural society, when ideas of tolerance and assimilation have run aground. In our attempts to deal with the stranger, here is perhaps a new model, dynamic and not static, like the relationships we are forming. This is a dialogical model, one that leaves room for learning and growth, that resists a desire to dominate.

But why do it if it offers us nothing in return? Whilst we may want to take cognisance of the writer to the Hebrews and hope that angels come to dine with us, Jesus warns his hearers not to look for the return. It is not therefore because we might be welcomed in the future, rather because we have already been the unworthy guest of the all-embracing hospitality of God. George Herbert reminds us:

Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,

Guilty of dust and sin.

But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack

From my first entrance in,

Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning

If I lack'd anything.

"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";

Love said, "You shall be he."

"I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,

I cannot look on thee."

Love took my hand and smiling did reply,"Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame

Go where it doth deserve."

"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"

"My dear, then I will serve."

"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."

So I did sit and eat.

Jesus spoke to the dinner-party set of his generation. If you throw dinner-parties today, then perhaps it’s a word for you as well. Amen.

A new flag for Northern Ireland?

2007-08-30T16:17:00.000+01:00

Most people agree that symbols, and particularly flags, are a great source of tension in the conflict of Northern Ireland and its transformation. Whatever the actual history of the current symbols, the perception is that most are ‘tribal’ and therefore designed in some ways to cause maximum offence to the ‘other side’.

Hence, although the designer of the Irish Tricolour intended for it to be inclusive of the ‘Orange’ or Protestant/Unionist community on the island, it is far from representative of that community today. The Cross of St Patrick was incorporated into the British Union Flag as a symbol of Ireland, but many Nationalists reject it as a British imperial invention. And the flag adopted by the Northern Ireland Parliament is used and seen as a distinctively Unionist emblem.

Whilst all this is true, nevertheless the communities of Northern Ireland acknowledge that symbols are important and necessary for identity. In the burgeoning shared future, the question of symbols must be addressed.

Shown above is a contribution to the debate on emblems and flags. It attempts to combine the two traditions in as simple and non-provocative a way as possible. It does not contain any of the ‘traditional’ symbols of Ireland, Ulster or Northern Ireland because they have become too divisive.

The explanation of the flag is also simple. The blue, white and red evoke the Union Flag of the UK, and hence are symbolic of the community which embraces the Union. The red and yellow are taken from the ancient arms of the Province of Ulster and therefore remind us that the six counties are linked with the other twenty-six in the Republic, a sentiment powerful for Nationalist.

Red, yellow and blue are the primary colours, the basic units from which all other colours are made. Hence they are the foundation of diversity, symbolising the need for one flag to unite various traditions and opinions. The white is wellknown as a symbol of light and of peace.

Which Way now?

2007-08-29T17:46:00.000+01:00

I know I come to this book rather later than most others. One friend told me that it was 'old hat' these days. And it is certainly true that 1998, when this book was written, seems like a long time ago in terms of British Social Democracy. But I want to recommend this short book to anyone interested in left-of-centre politics. Not only does it offer some background to the politics of the Clinton and Blair era(s), but it corrects many of the myths surrounding the term itself.

I admit that I consider myself more to the 'left' than the 'centre' of the Labour Party and that therefore the term 'Third Way' used to raise my hackles. What this book helped me to appreciate was the context in which modern politics now must work. Having lived through the momentous changes brought by the end of the Cold War and the collapse of Communism, I confess that I have failed to take full account of the way this has altered the Democratic Socialist/Progressive project. Giddens has helped me to reflect on where we have come from and where we need to go.

Of course, ten years of New Labour government on, it is easy to see some of the flaws in the Third Way argument. But Giddens never argued for a 'Middle Way' between left and right. This was about engaging the majority of people who do not consider themselves party political but who nevertheless are deeply concerned about making our communal life better. It is not about making Labour into a wishy-washy liberal centrist party, cobbling together a set of policies which offend no-one and are wiped clean of any hint of conviction or principle.

I regret the use of the term though I recognise that its use helped to build confidence in Labour among the voters of middle England. Giddens has certainly inspired me to believe that the need for progressive politics has not diminished and the future of socialism is not dead. Whilst the term itself may have been ditched, I sincerely hope that the renewal of the Left to which it points is something embraced by all my comrades in the Labour Party.

4x4x?

2007-08-29T17:41:00.000+01:00

I cannot believe what I witnessed this morning on my bike ride to work.

Minding my own business (but careful to mind the road!) I cycled past a man in Islington who had to use a stepladder to wash his chelsea tractor. To him and all 'urban farmers' I offer this basic rule of thumb - if you can't reach the roof of your vehicle, it's probably too big for you!

Gordon Brown's government is simply the best!

2007-06-29T13:25:00.000+01:00

What is Gordon Brown doing bringing Sir Digby Jones into his government? He gets a peerage, will take the Labour Whip but not join the Party! Someone should tell Sir Digby that being a Labour peer IS being a member of the Party!

But who will forget his soon-to-be Lordship's appearance on Desert Island Discs a little while ago? http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/factual/desertislanddiscs_20060521.shtml#discs

Among many other classics, Sir Digby chose 'Simply the Best' by Tina Turner. It reminded him, he said, of his early days in the City when his colleagues and he would sing it whilst getting drunk on champagne cocktails. Why did they sing it, you ask? 'Because we were the best,' said the modest Mr Jones.

A government of all the talents - at least in their own imaginations ...

The Gordon & Harriet Show

2007-06-25T13:23:00.000+01:00

It's all over and, come Thursday, GB will be PM. I don't think I'm the only one to be amazed and a little baffled by HH's victory on Sunday. Who'd have thought she was so popular among the rank and file.

I'm looking forward to the next twelve months. At last housing is near the top of Labour's agenda! But I hope the housing minister doesn't become another Lord Grocott or Geoff Hoon, attending cabinet meetings but having little or no power to speak, vote or influence. Let's have a proper Department of Housing leading the assault on unaffordable housing and uninhabitable council stock. Not taking the power away from local authorities to provide decent homes for everyone, but clearing the legislative path to ensure the homeless get what they need. We need a Housing Dept to make sure that nothing stands in the way of councils doing what they have been wanting to do for decades - building low cost and social housing for their communities.

I spent some of the last fortnight or so phoning local Labour Councillors about the deputy leadership campaign. Again and again they put housing at the top of their list of priorities for a Brown Government. And think about it! There could be no better way to differentiate between Labour and the rest at both local and national level. Labour Councils providing fantastic homes for the most needy when Tories are flogging their remaining stock to the lowest bidder.

For ten years, Labour has talked about social exclusion and deprivation. We know that all the indicators of deprivation are well-established by the age of three. So sorting housing is a major part of the war on inequality. If we want to kids to come from stable, decent homes, ready to learn, shouldn't we be providing them with the bricks and mortar to have one?

Reforming the House of Lords

2007-06-19T22:38:00.000+01:00

Constitutional reform has been a central plank of the Labour Party’s policy platform since coming to power in 1997. Yet, despite many advances in this agenda – successful devolution achieved for Scotland and Wales, burgeoning regional government for London, removal of the majority of hereditary peers from the House of Lords – there is a feeling that the programme has run into the buffers. Devolution for the English Regions has stalled and further reform of the Lords failed to achieve sufficient majorities when considered in 2003. Many commentators fail to see the relevance or importance of these reforms, arguing that fiddling with constitutional arrangements does nothing to improve the lives of ordinary citizens. I will attempt to set out the principles on which reform of the House of Lords should be based and will propose a model based on those principles.

Principles for reform

For Christian Socialists, democracy is as much a theological concept and process as a political one. For the idea of each citizen exercising an equal power at the ballot box underlines the theological idea of an inclusive society, where all members are treated equally as children of God. Furthermore, as citizens are allowed to participate more fully in the process of government, so our society’s democratic institutions are strengthened and the foundations of a genuinely good society are laid. That is exactly why CSM has been involved with others in the ‘Christians in Politics’ movement, supporting a wide variety of church members in their political vocations.

In the light of this theological insight, the House of Lords seems anachronistic, unrepresentative and aristocratic. It is predicated on a division in society (between peers and commoners) which is hard to justify from Christian, let alone, socialist principles. Its rules and procedures remain couched in largely sexist language despite huge changes in society at large. And, most damning of all, it allows a group of unaccountable people the chance to influence, change or even block legislation which effects us all.

It must come as no surprise, then, that as a Christian Socialist, I strongly advocate changes to our democratic institutions which promote fuller participation of the individual citizen and the various communities which make up the UK. In terms of the current reforms of the House of Lords, this ‘fuller participation’ must be seen in a number of lights:

§ In terms of elections – all citizens should have a say in who sits in the nation’s major legislative body;
§ In terms of constitution – that the make-up of a reformed second chamber must properly reflect the relative strengths of the political parties;
§ In terms of candidates – that steps must be taken to ensure that those who sit in the upper house are broadly reflective of the population as a whole;
§ In terms of work – that ways of working are found which engage the electorate in political debate and proper scrutiny of the exercise of power.

To fulfil this agenda, I therefore support a wholly or very largely elected second chamber whose members serve single non-renewable terms. I believe that the STV form of PR offers the fairest way of voting and advocate open lists to allow the electorate the maximum amount of choice and power in the process. I believe the current system of ‘self-regulation’ of debate in the House should be maintained and enhanced, partly in order to show a distinctive approach from the work and operation of the Commons.

In line with other upper chambers in the world, I advocate a much reduced second chamber for the UK. We outline two possible models below, the second of which gives a maximum number of around 250 members. Since any reform would involve offering salaries to members and support staff, this reduction in numbers would keep costs within reason.

One important element of the current House of Lords is the presence of non-partisan, independent and expert peers. For this reason, we believe that any reformed system should guarantee a small number of non-party political members. As you will see below, the model outlined below suggests ways of achieving this.

Any reform must be seen to strengthen the ability of Parliament, and therefore the electorate, to hold the Executive to account. For this reason, a voting system which guarantees no party an overall majority is advocated. I also suggest, in line with others, that ministers no longer be allowed to sit in the Upper House. This would allow for a proper distance to be maintained with the sitting Government. In order to facilitate debate, however, this would mean a change to Parliamentary traditions, for ministers from the lower House would have to appear before the second chamber to speak and answer questions. This is allowed in the Republic of Ireland’s Seanad, for example, and is to be welcomed.

House of Lords reform has the potential to allow Parliament to work more effectively and to begin the much needed reengagement of the citizen with our democratic institutions. I hope that CSM members of the Commons and Lords with participate fully in the debates to come and apply Christian principles to this process.

A Model for Reform

Elections
1. 12 multi-member constituencies (co-terminus with current European Parliamentary boundaries)
2. Representation in direct proportion to size of electorate (equal to number of MEPs elected each poll).
3. Elections held every five years (at the same time as Euro-elections) with a third of the membership up for election each time.
4. Members elected to serve for single 15 year terms.
5. Elections carried out under open list STV system.

Co-opted members
1. The reformed Chamber will be given the power to co-opt up to 24 additional non-political members, to ensure a better balance in terms of age, gender and/or ethnicity. There may also be a need to co-opt members for their particular expertise.
2. These members would sit as independents and would be appointed for a renewable 5 year term.
3. All co-opted members would have to command the confidence of a majority of the House.

Ex-officio members
1. Former Prime Ministers and retired Lords Chief Justice/Lords Advocate and possible Law Lords should be made life members to ensure their expertise is available to the House.

This would give a total membership of approximately 250: 216 elected, 24 co-opted and some ex-officio.

Terms & Conditions
1. Elected members to receive the same salary package as members of the Commons. In addition there would be some provision for office space and administrative support, but this would be much lower than MPs because there would be no expectation of constituency work being undertaken.
2. Co-opted and ex-officio members would not be expected to attend every day and so would be remunerated much in the same way as peers are currently, i.e. daily allowances and expenses of office.

Conduct of Business in the House
1. The powers of the new House with regard to legislation have already been agreed by a joint Parliamentary commission.
2. The conduct of debates would remain self-regulatory, with a Presiding Officer elected from the membership to represent the interests of the Chamber and administer its Business.
3. No government ministers would sit in the Chamber, but ministers from the Commons would be allowed permission to address the chamber and appear before select committees.
4. The Chamber would be given new powers to hold confirmation hearings on Executive appointments, principally Law Lords, senior judges, and chairs of major quangos.
5. The reformed Chamber would also be given the power to convene major hearings on issues of national importance, and it would only be by a vote in the Upper House that Royal Commissions could be established.

Mind the Gap!

2007-06-19T15:24:00.000+01:00

Sermon preached at St Giles' Cripplegate on Sunday 17th June 2007 (11th Sunday in Ordinary time, Year C, RCL). It is based on passages from I Kings 21:1-10, 15-21a and Luke 7:36-8:3.

Don’t you feel sorry for Nathan the prophet! I know he gets a great cameo role in Handel’s coronation anthem, Zadok the Priest, but he also has a pretty tough job. Imagine for a moment being a whistle-blower to your boss! Having the job of telling your boss when he’s gone wrong.

This is a classic example of the Quaker idea of ‘speaking truth to power’. And there weren’t many more powerful people at the time than King David, a great warrior king and conqueror of large parts of the Middle East.

When Jesus visits the home of Simon the Pharisee in Luke’s Gospel, we are given a slight variation on that theme of speaking truth to power. Is it ever appropriate for a guest to tell off a host in his own house?

These two stories share more in common than powerful men being reprimanded by uppity preachers. For the recorders of these incidents, one thing is very clear – both David and Simon already know the truth. To prove the point, we have their response to the parables. The trouble for them is that they get the answer right, proving that there’s nothing faulty about their moral compass. So any plea of ignorance simply won’t hold water.

What these stories hightlight is the gap between theory and practice, between knowing and doing. Psychologists might refer to this as dissonance and it can have bad as well as good effects. On the positive side, it is one of the characteristics of being human, having the ability to scrutinise one’s own actions and reflect upon practice. However, if the gap between what we believe to be right and how we live becomes too great, the result is likely to be some sort of breakdown.

The gap, as long as it is not too great, creates the space for human idealism. Because our own values hold us to a higher standard, we strive to improve. It is this process which allows us to dream of a better world.

Idealists come in all shapes and sizes, believers and atheists. What religion does, I believe, is to help us to codify our longings for a better tomorrow and provides a framework for our longings for change and growth. It also, of course, gives us a support network to help us achieve what we could not do alone.

David orchestrates an awful serious of crimes to get what he wants including, ultimately, murder. Yet he gets angry over a story about a lamb. Here is a stark example of the gap which exists in us all – knowing what is right yet failing to do it. The question is how we deal with such a dichotomy.

It could of course lead to despair or at least a paralysing moral fear. Because the chasm between the two seems unbridgeable, and we fear falling into it, our lives become diminished, stagnant. Better to do nothing for fear of making a mistake.

The other side of that particular coin is moral chaos. George Stephanopoulos wrote a memoir of his time in the Clinton White House and entitled it, All too human. The excuse that everybody does it is not really adequate to deal with the dissonance and, whilst it may be enjoyable to live this way, it is basically another counsel of despair.

We could of course fail to see the gap in ourselves altogether. That leads the way to moralising, being all-too-ready to see the moral failings of others and to let them know about it. It is as if we lose the ability to see nuance, to understand complexity. Why is it that Bill Clinton springs into my mind at this point? Is it that despite his many progressive ideas and policies, he will forever be linked in the public mind with Monica Lewinsky? Compare that with King David’s write up in the Bible.

How are we to avoid these pitfalls? We don’t often associate church with risk, but the gap demands that we become risk-takers, and reflective risk-takers at that. Not that we’re prepared to make mistakes for the sheer thrill of doing something new, but that we are also prepared to learn from those mistakes in order to grow.

We must also learn to love complexity. This was something argued by Davies and Sardar in their book, Why do people hate America? Acknowledging the gap which exists within - that our motives are far from pure and unalloyed - helps to create nuance in our views of others. If we cannot be summed up in a soundbite or a few lines, why do we believe that those in the public eye can?

It is from that complexity springs the awareness of our need for forgiveness. Not all is good, not all is bad; yet both are us. Forgiveness is the willingness to live with imperfection, to befriend our shadow side. It is the ability to see the bigger picture and to be able to define ourselves, and therefore others, are more than the sum of the parts we see.

Forgiveness teaches us the benefits of complexity and, in turn, gives birth to hope. For it allows us to believe that we can start again, that we can rebuild and that what we rebuild will be good enough, good enough surely to bridge the gap.

The Siddiqui Report - Islam at Universities in England

2007-06-15T12:49:00.000+01:00

Dr Ataullah Siddiqui, the Director of the Markfield Institute of Higher Education in Leicestershire, was commissioned by the Minister for Higher Education to prepare a report on the ‘quality of information about Islam that is available to students and staff in universities in England’. This included the teaching of Islamic Studies and the provision of ‘spiritual advice and support’.

Dr Siddiqui took soundings and heard evidence from the various stakeholders – academics, spiritual leaders, students, chaplains and support staff - and produced a report which was presented to Government last week. This is good news for those of us involved in Higher Education and particularly in chaplaincy. Many of us have been trying to engage with Muslim communities for some time and I hope that this report helps to make the case more strongly to university Vice-Chancellors and senior managers.

The report recommends that chaplains be appointed at every university. It outlines a model person specification, which includes a good knowledge of Islam, pastoral care, spiritual advice, willingness to engage with other faiths and an understanding of British culture and HE. One interesting point to note is the feedback from Muslim students that the chaplain should be a university employee, and thus not directly connected with a particular mosque or community. This, they say, would give appropriate accountability.

The report also recommends that all Muslim Chaplains be trained in pastoral care and the working in the HE sector, and that a formal qualification be received. I know of only one place in the UK - the Markfield Institute in Leics - where any sort of formal training for Muslim chaplains is available. I also know that many of Markfield's graduates find themselves in the NHS or the prison service because paid appointments in universities are simply not available. This report shows how necessary it is for universities to put their money where their mouths are. It is not enough to pay lip-service to the idea of multiculturalism or diversity unless there is also the resources available to put appropriate support and resources into place.

I have been working for a little while on some ideas around chaplaincy training and professional development in London. Watch this space for developments leading to formal academic pathways for ministers of all faiths to receive training and conduct research in the area of chaplaincy.

One of the key points of the report is the area of Islamic Studies, broadly defined as everything from a module on ‘An Introduction to Islam’ for healthcare professionals, to PhD research. In my own previous thoughts about this area, I have always assumed that the target audience would be non-Muslims. In light of the report, however, I relaise that I need to do more thinking around the provision of courses for Muslims who wish to study their own faith at a greater depth.

I hope this report gives greater impetus to moves within chaplaincies to expand their current teams in a multifaith direction.Perhaps some of the promised £1 million as a result of this report might be used to pay for chaplaincy provision. In the meantime, the Christian Churches, long at the forefront of this work, must think more deeply about how to engage with the issues raised by Dr Siddiqui and advocate more strongly for faith provision within our universities and colleges.

Jason Burke, Al Qaeda, 2004

2007-05-19T09:22:00.000+01:00

Since this book was published in 2004, new evidence has come to light which suggests that Burke's analysis, though insightful, is not entirely accurate. Having said that, this book is still well worth reading by those who want to understand why people would fly planes into buildings.

Burke's research is extraordinarily detailed, and he retains a journalist's eye for the dramatic. My own sense is that he tries to cram too much detail into a relatively short space leaving the average reader dazed and confused in places. I am impressed with his command of his subject but am left with Arabic names swimming before my eyes. Perhaps if these names were better known then I wouldn't have such a problem.

The key question is: what does it teach us? Personally, I learnt a great deal more about Wahhabism, the predominant form of Islam in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Well explained too were the historical strands of Islamic and political thought drawn upon my bin Laden in the construction of his particular ideology. I was left with serious questions about the role of Saudi Arabia in spreading Wahhabism and with it, the seeds of the current militancy. This ally of the West, perhaps unwittingly, has fomented unrest and encouraged a narrow interpretation of their faith in countries right across the Muslim world. It worries me that the West seems to have done very little to stem the dissemination either of literature or funds from this source.

I enjoyed this book a great deal but was a little disappointed with the length of the conclusion. It would have been good to hear more about the non-militant forms of Islam and those engaged in the battle for hearts and minds within the faith. That those voices are there, Burke does not doubt. I think Westerners need to understand those alternatives more to offer a balance to the current media picture we are fed.

Burke is convinced that al-Qaeda is not a single definable threat and that therefore bin Laden is not the only or even the main threat. It is the worldview on which Islamic militants feed that must be challenged - something to be done with ideas and doctrines, not invasions and bombs. More than that, this book bolstered my faith in the democratic agenda. It is in those Muslim countries where democracy is allowed a foothold and the movement has begun towards truly representative government, that militancy is weaker. There is something about allowing people a say, trusting their common sense, which pays dividends. Of course, democracy is not a 'one size fits all' form of government. It must be culturally relevant, seeking to provide a voice to all individuals and communities within a state. Hence the very different forms of democracy in the US and Northern Ireland for example.

When we will hear from those academics and activists being sponsored by the West to think up Muslim forms of democracy?

Jonathan Sacks, The Dignity of Difference, 2003

2007-04-24T16:29:00.000+01:00

Why has it taken me so long to get around to reading this fantastic book!? I had heard such good things about it - especially the first edition - but managed to put it off until now.

For those who don't know already, Sir Jonathan Sacks is the Chief Rabbi of Britain and the Commonwealth. He writes partly in response to Samuel Huntingdon's 'clash of civilisations' thesis and argues passionately that such a scenario is neither permanent nor inevitable. Drawing on the deep wells of the Jewish Tradition, he articulates a vision of a deliberately plural and diverse world. 'Against Plato and his followers,' he writes, 'the Bible argues that universalism is the first, not the last, phase in the growth of moral imagination.' (p51) It is no coincidence that Bruegel's 'Tower of Babel' adorns the front cover. The story of Babel is a salutary reminder of the destructive power of universalism.

This book is very timely and should be read by believers and non-believers alike. It is well-written and deeply challenging. However, I feel that it fails to tackle fully the thorny issue of proselytism, particularly though not exclusively in Christianity and Islam. For both of these religions, missionary activity is not something that can simply be ceased. Many adherents, especially those on the more conservative wing, see it as a fundamental part of belief and it is not therefore something which can be ignored. For what it's worth, my own view is that rather than abandoning the concept of evangelism or conversion, missionary religions should look at reinterpreting it in much broader terms. So it becomes much more the transmission of a message, an idea, a way of living, and much less the recruitment of new members. I have written elsewhere on this blog that I think Christianity needs to re-examine its model of mission as DOMINATION and replace it with the idea of TRANSFORMATION. I know that Christianity has within its sacred texts the justification for this move. But what about Islam? I don't know enough about the Holy Qur'an and the Hadith to know what the impetus is behind Muslim Missionary activity. But I imagine that there are some fruitful conversations to be had.

The other thing that troubled me about Sack's book was the chapter on the market. I do think that he was trying to have his cake and eat it. As a socialist (albeit of the Labour Party brand) I felt uncomfortable with a moral justification for the capitalist market. There was a lot to commend the arguments laid out, but I was still left wondering whether those who endorse the market let it 'off the hook' a little too easily. I felt that he could have argued a lot more for the HUGE limitations of the market model currently in operation in the West and the need for a very strong civil society and proper multi-national regulation.

All-in-all, this is a great book and I look forward to reading another by Jonathan Sacks.

Good (enough) News?

2007-04-24T15:49:00.000+01:00

'If it bleeds, it leads.'

I imagine that most of us thought that this was a tongue-in-cheek summary of the editorial policy of our major news media. After watching the coverage of the Northern Ireland peace process in the last few weeks, I am beginning to wonder.

Don't get me wrong! I am not naive enough to believe that journalists are all saints valiantly fighting for truth and freedom in the face of corruption and oppression (despite what some of them might say). To do so would mean ignoring the cynicism aroused and encouraged by much of what passes for news reporting today. But I did think that there were still some who had not bowed the knee to Baal (or his modern day incarnation, Rupert Murdoch).

My question is a simple one: why did Northern Ireland suddenly disappear from our screens almost as soon as there was truly historic good news to tell? And why do I get the feeling that the next time we get anything in detail from the Six Counties, it will be when corruption or political stalemate hits the Assembly and Executive?

I left Northern Ireland in 1990, before the Downing Street Declaration and the beginnings of the current peace process. If you had told me then that the IRA would declare its war over and decommission its weapons IN ORDER to encourage Ian Paisley to become First Minister, I would have done more than laugh. The idea would have been entirely preposterous. In a couple of weeks' time, it will happen.

Is it possible in the current political and social climate, I wonder, to have a media culture which plays to our hopes and encourages responsibility and participation as well as feeding our scepticism?

Finding a Place

2007-04-08T19:56:00.000+01:00

'Yet if the holy life becomes a proxy for living, or Holy Communion for human communion, then we are lost. For the spiritual life is life at the level of the spirit; Holy Communion is community made holy; liturgy is life ‘lived up’, celebrated, made new in the kingdom of God.
Then what room is there for the particular holy place or holy time? What is the role of the Church…? [T]he Church is not a substitute for the world. Yet on the old model it was presupposed that ideally the Church would become a replacement for the world – the world, hopefully, would become the Church…. Now that idea has got gradually – but rather rapidly – eroded…. Koinonia is where the kingdom is, and the Kingdom is where koinonia is, in the world – whether in mercy or in judgement. Ecclesia is whatever formation is called for in a particular situation to meet the claims of koinonia, to embody life, love, justice, freedom – on other words to make life human.… To be in ecclesia is to respond to the call to servanthood, to accept special responsibility for the life of the Kingdom, for embodying koinonia.'

John A.T. Robinson, 1972, The Difference in Being a Christian Today, London: Collins, pp53ff

The thoughts of John Robinson, though written, or rather spoken, over thirty years ago, have amazing resonance with where the church finds itself today. He predicted the old model would, by now, have disappeared. Our experience is that, in various guises, the ‘ecclesiastical take-over’ model of Christian mission is still very much alive. The idea that Christians should form their own sub-culture in which they are entirely comfortable, shore it up against the ravages of the prevailing waves of contemporary culture, and then try to ‘rescue’ others from the surroundings, is surely the very raison d’être of the evangelical wing of the Church. Little more than lip service is paid to engagement with life as it is lived today. Religion is almost entirely personal and individual, thus allowing it to work effectively in the ghettos and fortresses of their own making.

Evangelicals find it difficult to make a worthwhile critique of the spheres of economics, culture and politics because it is a futile task. If the point of the church is simply to replace the world, then why tinker with those bits of the world outside the church? There cannot be a proper evangelical contribution to the justice debate unless and until the take-over model is itself superseded. There does not seem to be much chance of that occurring in the near future.

The trouble is that the take-over model is one shared by a number of non-evangelical Christians in the mainstream churches. That is why numerical decline is taken as such a body blow. We are obviously failing in our task, because our task is defined almost exclusively by the replacement theology of a former time. Therefore, as we get smaller, we become much more vulnerable to ‘attack’ from ‘secular forces’, for we believe that if we don’t get them, they will succeed in getting us! With this as the dominant rationale for the church’s existence, all attempts at a redefinition of Christian mission will seem like making the best of a bad job. This we must simply accept as the price of prophecy, a resistance to change which is entirely natural.

Bishop Robinson’s reassertion of the place of the church as the agent and servant of the Kingdom is again needed in our own day. In thirty years and more, Western society has moved into a new era, dragging the churches along in its wake. Where once Western European governments took the views of the churches seriously and felt themselves heirs of a long Judaeo-Christian tradition, now all religion is treated with a certain sense of suspicion or contempt. And rightly so! If we insist on holding onto the take-over model, then suspicion and contempt will continue to increase. And we should not be surprised if other faith communities adopt a similar stance to ours.

A response to Bishop Robinson’s challenges is for the Church to become both more religious and less. By which I mean our specific activities as a faith community should be more explicitly spiritual and indeed Christian. It seems that we spent a good deal of the last century concocting activities that were at best quasi-religious. We became more and more embarrassed by overt religiosity, and so sought to envelop faith in a ‘community’ package. As a result implicit faith became the best that we could hope for among those who actually came. But since they could no longer articulate their faith in any meaningful ways, this suffered the law of diminishing returns. Fewer people would come because less of those who did come could explain the point of the Church’s existence. And you don’t invite friends to something you, yourself, don’t really understand!

This is why the advent of ‘competition’ in social activities is such good news for the gospel. It is also why the conservative evangelical wing of the Church is growing. Most people attending those churches don’t necessarily want to be evangelical; they do, I contend, want to be religious. If non-evangelical Christianity wants to survive, then we will have to re-connect with the gospel in overt, explicit ways. It will no longer be sufficient to believe privately, or to assume that others understand our beliefs without our having to tell them. We will need to provide opportunities – explicitly religious spaces – where honest and thoughtful explorations of faith and life can occur. We will need to think carefully about how we equip modern Christians to engage with the world of which they are part. Put another way, we will need to become spiritual opticians, offering the necessary tools by which Christians can see the world better and moreover, see Christ at work there.

If that is how we may become more religious, then it is also the key to how we become less religious. Church, as an institution, is becoming increasingly burdensome to those who are members and ministers. If we are to move to the sort of community outlined by Bishop Robinson, then we must release Christians – both lay and ordained – to get involved in the business of human living. We must insist that they seek fellowship, not within the Church alone, but mainly outside it. We will no longer expect to see Christians at every meeting or even every Sunday. Their involvement at work and in the local community will be as important to us as any office they might hold in church. As a result, we will provide fewer opportunities for them to be on the premises. Fewer and better quality events will be the key to the future Church.

For the ordained, this will also mean changes. The focus will be threefold: representation, resourcing, and reconciliation.

Representation – this is already a key part of the Methodist understanding of ministry. As the public face of the Church, the ordained will continue to embody Christianity in a focussed way. Where they take up positions as chaplains within institutions, this will allow faith to be represented in structures as well as in the community at large.

Resourcing – giving Christians confidence to be Christians in the world is one of the most important tasks of ministry. Challenge and critique of Christian conduct will also be part of that task. It is one of my least pleasant duties as a university chaplain to hold in check the more evangelical Christians among the staff and student body. But giving time and energy to study and the production of resources is an increasing priority for those set apart by the Church.

Reconciliation – this relates to Robinson’s idea of koinonia. And if Paul is right that the fundamental drive of Christian ministry is reconciliation, then the question of how reconciliation relates to the task of Christian ministry today is a critical one. In my work as a chaplain, I talk a good deal about ‘building community’. The ability of religion to carve out safe space, to create refuge in the midst of life, is part of a long tradition. It is now seriously in doubt with the advent of fundamentalism and the religions’ struggle with concepts of equality, diversity and human rights. But that ideal is one we should be loathed to lose. Bringing diverse people together under an umbrella of shared humanity, attempting to find shared values and commitment to a shared vision, is one which should continue to enthuse and drive us in our work. Once again, I must reiterate that this task will be, quite simply, impossible if we hold to the idea that the Church exists to take-over the world. Rather we see koinonia in Bishop Robinson’s terms, as that God-filled space where gospel values are discussed, believed and enacted for the benefit of all.

Why bother with all this? When I first wrote this, I was in serious danger of giving up on the Church as an irredeemable human institution. Yet, then and now, I cannot shake off the claims of the Jesus story. There is something utterly compelling about the idea of an incarnate God, one who loves us into being and offers us transformative affirmation. If God is anything like Jesus of Nazareth, then it is a God worth knowing. St Ignatius of Antioch once wrote, Ubi Christus, ibi ecclesia (Where Christ is, there is the Church). I continue my search for Christ, and occasionally I find him, at work in the lives of those who love and search for life in all its fullness.

George Alagiah, A Passage to Africa, 2001

2007-03-29T14:12:00.000+01:00

I used to believe that, in order to get a job as a foreign correspondent in the broadcast media, you needed an interesting name. Never John Brown, always Orla Guerin, Gabi Rado or Ragi Omaar. So when George Alagiah appeared on the scene, he seemed to fit right in. There is one significant difference, however: when Alagiah was sent by the BBC to be their correspondent in Africa, he was returning home.

I thoroughly recommend this book for any and all who have followed the story of Africa in the media for the past 30 years or more. In what amounts to a reflection on a personal pilgrimage, the reader is allowed to look behind the headlines through the eyes of a African. For this reason, even the commentary on the reigns of the 'Big Men of Africa' - Kwame Nkrumah, Idi Amin, Mobutu Sese Seko, and Nelson Mandela - is suffused with honesty and optimism.

At the end, I was left with a real sense of hopefulness that Africa's problems are not insoluble and that its people are its greatest asset.

Peace at last...?

2007-01-28T15:07:00.000Z

If you grow up in Northern Ireland, the chances are that you come to despise and distrust two things: religion and politics.

For so long, politics has been about stagnation, defending the status quo, not giving an inch lest the 'other side' gain the upper hand. As for religion, it has been used, often with tacit approval, to shore up this form of politics, borne of a seige mentality.

It strikes me that two events are calling most of us to question these assumptions. The death of David Ervine MLA came unexpectedly and leaves the Northern Ireland political scene without one of its most articulate players. He was a self-made man, taking the chance whilst in prison to educate himself and lead his community away from its violent path.

I met David Ervine a couple of summers ago when he came to speak at a conference in London. He was accompanied by a number of former paramilitaries who were now firmly engaged in peace-making and community-building. I remember his answer to the question about the involvement of religion in the conflict. He said:

'When the Churches in Ireland took up the chalice of peace, it had four hundred years of dust on it.'

People like David Ervine inspire me to believe that there is a chance for peace. He didn't sit in an armchair pontificating about the rights and wrongs of the situation. But it was exactly because he had a past that meant committed himself to giving others a future. He will be sorely missed by many more than his friends and family.

I said there were two events. The second is happening as I write. The Sinn Fein Ard Fheis will vote today on support for the police serve and the criminal justice service in the North. It's a difficult decision but I hope that delegates will trust the leadership and move one step closer to government. It shows what huge strides have been taken over the past ten years, especially by Republicans, in making peace a reality and the future a possiblity.

All being well, the Northern Ireland Assembly will crank into operation over the next few weeks and a government will be established. Then the real work will begin - overcoming centuries of anamosity and distrust, being prepared to listen and even to learn from the 'enemy'.

The politicians are doing their bit to restore the public's trust in the political process. But what about religion? Compared with England, the churches in Northern Ireland have remained pretty full. My guess is that part of their success was the need to maintain tribal idenitites. Afterall, it's easier to call yourself Protestant if you actually attend church from time to time. A new political reality reveals new challenges to the churches, part of which will probably be decline.

I still wonder whether the church leaders, and indeed all those who call themselves Christian, have what it takes to dust off that chalice of peace....

the joys of vexillology

2006-12-21T22:48:00.000Z

If you live in any major city you will be surrounded by pieces of material hanging in public. These pieces of material you probably ignore. Yet flags have extraordinary power.

300 million Americans sing a song to theirs and begin every school day by pledging their allegiance to it. Countries like Montenegro, Georgia and the Democratic Repulic of Congo have gone as far as to change theirs in recent times.

I come from a part of Europe that is frankly obsessed with flags and their meaning. There are probably more British Union Flags per square foot in Northern Ireland than anywhere else in the world. And that doesn't begin to number the amount of so-called 'Ulster' flags and Irish Tricolours.

Maybe that's where my fascination began. Pieces of cloth that inspire allegiance, cause absolute fury and even lead people to violence. That's why we need to get them right and why I will be suggesting some new designs. So watch this space and suggest your own versions.

getting the blogging bug

2006-12-21T22:35:00.000Z

After trying out some blogging whilst running in a by-election, I have decided to start up my own! It may not last ...

As you will see, the title of the site gives some clues to my eclectic interests. I will be revealing my passions for politics, all things religious, cooking and, of course, vexillology!

Please let me know if you find my musings in any way interesting.