fI was trying to work out what to blog about today, and the long suffering wife has suggested that my write-up about the conference might be seen as somewhat...well "lacking" is the expression she used.
The difficulty with trying to talk about the conference is – that let's be honest – you don’t care. Do you really want to know about a lecture I attended given by the very brilliant Dr Hannah Holtschneider of the University of Edinburgh ‘Regarding the Pain of Others reflections on the use of photography in Holocaust musems.’? No, if you were that fussed, you would have been there, or have all ready done some reading on the subject. Even if you did decide from my description of it that this is a topic you want to know more about, I wouldn’t necessarily be the best person to ask...she would.
I suspect then my wife is suggesting that I talk about the room I was sleeping in – (it had a bed and sink) or about how wonderful Cambridge is as a city (very) ..or… you see, the problem is, I really am not sure what small talk I can make from all this, and even how worth while doing so would be.
Having returned – panic still high about money, working 8.30-6pm in a 9-5 job (so to speak), I am ever more certain that this is not where I want to be – that I would love to be studying full time, that I would love to be learning and with that learning, hopefully, changing. This brings me onto my new Degree course. This is a course which approaches theology not as just an academic discipline in which one can develop an ever better argument, and attempt to answer the question, for example “”Is there a God?”, or “What does God require of humanity”, but rather “How will I become what God requires me to be”. This is a substantial shift for me – not because I don’t look for the application of knowledge, but, up to this point, if I was to submit a paper which revealed a “faith biais” I would have been dragged over burning coals while academics pointed at me while murmuring “shame”. My new course is designed to consider the application of learning not in the presentation of a compelling paper (although that is gladly recived) but in the application of these principles.
This raises an interesting question about the course in my mind as a “Degree”. Please don’t get me wrong – I believe that the focous is a good and positive one – it is training for ministry that the course aims to provide after all – but should training of this type – which requires a particular religious belief within the practical ministrial modules – be termed as an academic degree?
Yours as ever,
Studiously, the broken man
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Friday, 12 September 2008
Monday, 18 August 2008
Make Me A Christian
A new “reality” tv show has just started in the UK, called “Make Me a Christian”.
The premises of the show is that a group of people interested in finding out more about the Christian faith spend three weeks “living like Christians” under the guidance of three mentors headed up by the Rev George Hargreaves.
This sounds brilliant; it sounds like the type of programme I would really like to be involved in.
Before it was on I started to think about how I would approach it. What would be my starting point in showing people what its like to live as a Christian?
Fairly early on, I think I would include a trip to an interactive prayer room with bits of paper on the wall for people to draw on, with sand pits, with water; lots of interactive prayer activities.
I would start off by talking with the group about the way we communicate with God and that there is no single way to do this, but that if we want to get to know God, if we want to find out about life as a Christian, our starting point must be communication as we have a God who wants desperately to communicate with us, who knows us inside out and loves and cares for us.
I would make sure there were chances for the group to study the Bible in the round, to discuss and debate and ask their questions, and I would make sure that the people I had as speakers were people who brought the Bible to life; who spoke with excitement and passion and love.
This programme's starting point was to go into the participants' houses and tell them all the things that they couldn’t have in their lives whilst trying to live as Christians; that they needed to clear out the rubbish. The Christianity they are preaching is the God of “YOU SHALL NOT” and that includes questioning.
Its not a God I know.
I believe in a God who invites us into the ring and tells us that its okay to try wrestling; I believe in a God who says "come on, give me your best shot, I can take it! If you are angry with me, shout at me, if you don’t believe in me, tell me, if you think the world is turning to rot, if you are hurting, if you are broken, then come on, give it all to me. I can take it. I love you."
This show – this piece of TV – seems to preach and teach a God which I wouldn’t want to know, and this fills me with an overwhelming desire to beat the “mentors” with sticks. The only thing that restrains me from hunting them down, is that I know they would see this as persecution for their faith and so clear evidence that they are doing the right thing and the devil is afraid of them. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
The premises of the show is that a group of people interested in finding out more about the Christian faith spend three weeks “living like Christians” under the guidance of three mentors headed up by the Rev George Hargreaves.
This sounds brilliant; it sounds like the type of programme I would really like to be involved in.
Before it was on I started to think about how I would approach it. What would be my starting point in showing people what its like to live as a Christian?
Fairly early on, I think I would include a trip to an interactive prayer room with bits of paper on the wall for people to draw on, with sand pits, with water; lots of interactive prayer activities.
I would start off by talking with the group about the way we communicate with God and that there is no single way to do this, but that if we want to get to know God, if we want to find out about life as a Christian, our starting point must be communication as we have a God who wants desperately to communicate with us, who knows us inside out and loves and cares for us.
I would make sure there were chances for the group to study the Bible in the round, to discuss and debate and ask their questions, and I would make sure that the people I had as speakers were people who brought the Bible to life; who spoke with excitement and passion and love.
This programme's starting point was to go into the participants' houses and tell them all the things that they couldn’t have in their lives whilst trying to live as Christians; that they needed to clear out the rubbish. The Christianity they are preaching is the God of “YOU SHALL NOT” and that includes questioning.
Its not a God I know.
I believe in a God who invites us into the ring and tells us that its okay to try wrestling; I believe in a God who says "come on, give me your best shot, I can take it! If you are angry with me, shout at me, if you don’t believe in me, tell me, if you think the world is turning to rot, if you are hurting, if you are broken, then come on, give it all to me. I can take it. I love you."
This show – this piece of TV – seems to preach and teach a God which I wouldn’t want to know, and this fills me with an overwhelming desire to beat the “mentors” with sticks. The only thing that restrains me from hunting them down, is that I know they would see this as persecution for their faith and so clear evidence that they are doing the right thing and the devil is afraid of them. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
Thursday, 10 July 2008
In Love With God
Dear God,
I have no doubt that you know how I feel about you; after all you know everything, yet, of late, I have doubted my own feelings a little. The problem started when I heard the way some other people talk about you. They talked with such passion about how in love they are, and they sang a song that said we should recapture our first love, that we should go back to how things were right at the start.
I have given it some thought, really I have, please don’t think I have made this decision lightly, but if its okay with you, I would prefer not to go back to our early days together. They were exciting! I will give you that; you know how to knock a gent of his feet. When I first encountered you I think I went into shock, and for a while, every time I came close to you, I lost my breath, I could hardly speak. There seemed so much to find out about you, and I wanted to know it all right now, and I took a lot of reassuring that you cared, and you provided it at every step of the way.
When we got married, in a low key service I had such high hopes; I was so excited, but in honesty I thought it would be easier than it has been. Married life has been hard work, I have had to change, far more than I belived would ever be possible. I had to give up some things which had been a big part of my life, I had to reorder my diary and make sure we had time to spend together. I don’t regret a single day of it though, and, as we have got closer, I think I have become a better person bit by bit. Now, that first flush of wild passion has gone, but what has replaced it is a real deep down knowledge that you care. Yes, sometimes you still take my breath away, but also I have found that love for you has been far more about all the little things; that while the thunder and lighting are incredible, while the earth shaking is amazing, you are mostly found in the whisper, in just sitting together, in the day-to-day conversations about the mundane.
I know I don’t bring you flowers every night, but ask anyone who knows me, and they will let you know that I have only positive things to say about you. I don’t spend every day raving about you, telling everyone I meet every detail about you (in honesty I think they would get bored) but every one knows we are together and that I think you are wonderful, and I am always very pleased to introduce you to my friends. I try to show how I feel about you in the day-to-day things, in the things I do around the house, in the way I behave with other people. Just to let you know, though I know you know it already, I don’t need big gestures from you. I don’t need you to constantly remind me that you care, I know how you feel, you made that very clear in a manner that I will never ever forget. Once you have given your life for someone, there can be very little debate about how much you care. I see your care for me in all the day-to-day things; the cloud formations, the job I know I wouldn’t have got without your support, the wife who is just right for me.
I know you don’t take offence easily and that it's hard to get you angry, so I feel safe in saying all this to you. I know normally I would just talk, just say what I feel, but I wanted it down on paper, so that when people tell me I should be more in love, when they talk of that wonderful flush of first love, that excitement of knowing you are around, I can show them this letter, and maybe they will see that for me, the way things are between us works just fine. I think the way they relate to you is incredible, but I am also very happy with how things work between us.
Yours, as ever,
The broken man
I have no doubt that you know how I feel about you; after all you know everything, yet, of late, I have doubted my own feelings a little. The problem started when I heard the way some other people talk about you. They talked with such passion about how in love they are, and they sang a song that said we should recapture our first love, that we should go back to how things were right at the start.
I have given it some thought, really I have, please don’t think I have made this decision lightly, but if its okay with you, I would prefer not to go back to our early days together. They were exciting! I will give you that; you know how to knock a gent of his feet. When I first encountered you I think I went into shock, and for a while, every time I came close to you, I lost my breath, I could hardly speak. There seemed so much to find out about you, and I wanted to know it all right now, and I took a lot of reassuring that you cared, and you provided it at every step of the way.
When we got married, in a low key service I had such high hopes; I was so excited, but in honesty I thought it would be easier than it has been. Married life has been hard work, I have had to change, far more than I belived would ever be possible. I had to give up some things which had been a big part of my life, I had to reorder my diary and make sure we had time to spend together. I don’t regret a single day of it though, and, as we have got closer, I think I have become a better person bit by bit. Now, that first flush of wild passion has gone, but what has replaced it is a real deep down knowledge that you care. Yes, sometimes you still take my breath away, but also I have found that love for you has been far more about all the little things; that while the thunder and lighting are incredible, while the earth shaking is amazing, you are mostly found in the whisper, in just sitting together, in the day-to-day conversations about the mundane.
I know I don’t bring you flowers every night, but ask anyone who knows me, and they will let you know that I have only positive things to say about you. I don’t spend every day raving about you, telling everyone I meet every detail about you (in honesty I think they would get bored) but every one knows we are together and that I think you are wonderful, and I am always very pleased to introduce you to my friends. I try to show how I feel about you in the day-to-day things, in the things I do around the house, in the way I behave with other people. Just to let you know, though I know you know it already, I don’t need big gestures from you. I don’t need you to constantly remind me that you care, I know how you feel, you made that very clear in a manner that I will never ever forget. Once you have given your life for someone, there can be very little debate about how much you care. I see your care for me in all the day-to-day things; the cloud formations, the job I know I wouldn’t have got without your support, the wife who is just right for me.
I know you don’t take offence easily and that it's hard to get you angry, so I feel safe in saying all this to you. I know normally I would just talk, just say what I feel, but I wanted it down on paper, so that when people tell me I should be more in love, when they talk of that wonderful flush of first love, that excitement of knowing you are around, I can show them this letter, and maybe they will see that for me, the way things are between us works just fine. I think the way they relate to you is incredible, but I am also very happy with how things work between us.
Yours, as ever,
The broken man
Wednesday, 25 June 2008
The Blog of a Broken Man
So why a broken man? It seems a fair starting question. My life history is a messy business and seems a bit unfriendly to begin my tale with woe; if you find this page of interest, then I am sure we will get to know each other as time goes on, but at least a little explanation seems only right.
My life has contained much in the way of disaster. I can not claim more than others, however; the experinces I have had now seem common place. The loss of a brother to heroin, the loss of a wife to another man, money…ahh, now there is an issue..but I am sure we will come onto that in time.
I have lived through some dark times, as Morrissey once sang, "the things I have seen could make a good man turn bad". My story is not one of someone turned black by the world, however. As this page is black and my writing shines out bright and white, so it is with my life. It is written that those living in darkness have seen a great light, and that is my story. While I am broken, a cracked pot as the expression goes, shines light through those cracks.
As by now I am sure you will have guessed, I am a Christian. It’s a phrase that doesn’t easily roll of my tongue, in honesty; in England Christians have a bit of a bad name, they are associated with hypocrisy, and mediocrity. Faith is something that goes on behind closed doors, and what goes on in churches often seems unrelated to a belief in the Divine. My belief is in a God who is whiter than white, whot blasts away the most impressive advert for a new cleaning powder, I believe in a God who shines and expels darkness, who takes our brokenness, who takes all that has ever gone wrong, all that we have ever done and thought, and transforms it into something beautiful. Strength comes not from this broken husk, but from the God who breathes life into dry bones.
So this blog, this journal, if you care to follow it, will be the story of a broken man, hopefully, bit by bit, made more whole. When writing something like this one wonders who will read it, who will care about the ramblings of a stranger on the other side of the globe, so if you chance upon this page do introduce yourself, let me know that you popped by.
You have a right to wonder what you will find if you where to draw up a seat next to the fire on a regular basis, if you make this a point of departure in your busy day. Who’s life will be laid before you? Well, I am a 32 year old man, married to a wonderful women who is now 16 weeks pregnant with our first child. I have been accepted for training for ordination as a priest, but whether or not I can become a priest depends on whether I am able to clear debts accrued through negative equity. I will keep you posted as to how that goes, and will, undoubtedly, write about life as a father-to-be and my training. It’s a pleasure to meet you..I hope you enjoy your stay.
I think that is more than enough of an introduction, time to get down to the business at hand.
ENTRY ONE
Today my wife is 16 weeks and one day pregnant with our first child. It took five years for her to become pregnant, and we had given up hope. We had looked into infertility treatment, into the options available and felt unable to go down that road. The creation of embryos outside the womb, and the “disposal” of those not required seemed a step too far. A step into a world where we would prefer to leave God firmly in charge. So we prayed the prayers of the Bible and cried out as so many have before for a child. When my wife fell pregnant someone asked her, “Was it a miracle?”
It’s a good question. To answer "yes" seems to suggest that those who recieve no apparent answer, or a "no", have somehow been neglected by God but to say "no", seems to deny God’s hand in it. When I sit and think about it, I am certain that every birth, every pregnancy, every breath we take is a miracle, a gift which should be cherished, which we should take with gratitude. Is my wife’s pregnancy more of a miracle than me being able to open my eyes this morning? The only difference seems to be that I don’t often pray that I will wake up in the morning. We are surrounded by miracles, we just fail to see them for what they are. So yes, my wife being pregnant is a mircle, and one that I will thank God for every day of my life.
I can not begin to express how happy I am that she is pregnent, that we will be parents, that I will be a father. I wonder what kind of a father I will be, and confess I am worried, worried about all the mistakes I am sure I will make. Even now we discuss in every detail how we would like to bring up our child, even now I feel a twinge of panic about my inability. Hence, again, I come back to the statement that I am a broken man, made of clay. I try to remind myself it's not through what I can do, through my abilities, my skills – my roguish good looks (well, ok, I don’t have roguish good looks!) that God will work, it's through the cracks, the acknowledgments of my incapability that God can work. Its only when I say, "okay God, this is in your hands" instead of trying to do it all myself that God really gets a chance to work.
One of the things I love about God is that He is a gentlemen, this is not to imply that God is exclusively male, but rather that God has manners. God gets involved in the areas of our life we open him up to, not in the areas we lock away. The areas we lock away or try to, that’s where we have the trouble..
My lunch break is reaching an end, so I will end it there. Its been a pleasure, see you tomorrow?
A Broken Man
My life has contained much in the way of disaster. I can not claim more than others, however; the experinces I have had now seem common place. The loss of a brother to heroin, the loss of a wife to another man, money…ahh, now there is an issue..but I am sure we will come onto that in time.
I have lived through some dark times, as Morrissey once sang, "the things I have seen could make a good man turn bad". My story is not one of someone turned black by the world, however. As this page is black and my writing shines out bright and white, so it is with my life. It is written that those living in darkness have seen a great light, and that is my story. While I am broken, a cracked pot as the expression goes, shines light through those cracks.
As by now I am sure you will have guessed, I am a Christian. It’s a phrase that doesn’t easily roll of my tongue, in honesty; in England Christians have a bit of a bad name, they are associated with hypocrisy, and mediocrity. Faith is something that goes on behind closed doors, and what goes on in churches often seems unrelated to a belief in the Divine. My belief is in a God who is whiter than white, whot blasts away the most impressive advert for a new cleaning powder, I believe in a God who shines and expels darkness, who takes our brokenness, who takes all that has ever gone wrong, all that we have ever done and thought, and transforms it into something beautiful. Strength comes not from this broken husk, but from the God who breathes life into dry bones.
So this blog, this journal, if you care to follow it, will be the story of a broken man, hopefully, bit by bit, made more whole. When writing something like this one wonders who will read it, who will care about the ramblings of a stranger on the other side of the globe, so if you chance upon this page do introduce yourself, let me know that you popped by.
You have a right to wonder what you will find if you where to draw up a seat next to the fire on a regular basis, if you make this a point of departure in your busy day. Who’s life will be laid before you? Well, I am a 32 year old man, married to a wonderful women who is now 16 weeks pregnant with our first child. I have been accepted for training for ordination as a priest, but whether or not I can become a priest depends on whether I am able to clear debts accrued through negative equity. I will keep you posted as to how that goes, and will, undoubtedly, write about life as a father-to-be and my training. It’s a pleasure to meet you..I hope you enjoy your stay.
I think that is more than enough of an introduction, time to get down to the business at hand.
ENTRY ONE
Today my wife is 16 weeks and one day pregnant with our first child. It took five years for her to become pregnant, and we had given up hope. We had looked into infertility treatment, into the options available and felt unable to go down that road. The creation of embryos outside the womb, and the “disposal” of those not required seemed a step too far. A step into a world where we would prefer to leave God firmly in charge. So we prayed the prayers of the Bible and cried out as so many have before for a child. When my wife fell pregnant someone asked her, “Was it a miracle?”
It’s a good question. To answer "yes" seems to suggest that those who recieve no apparent answer, or a "no", have somehow been neglected by God but to say "no", seems to deny God’s hand in it. When I sit and think about it, I am certain that every birth, every pregnancy, every breath we take is a miracle, a gift which should be cherished, which we should take with gratitude. Is my wife’s pregnancy more of a miracle than me being able to open my eyes this morning? The only difference seems to be that I don’t often pray that I will wake up in the morning. We are surrounded by miracles, we just fail to see them for what they are. So yes, my wife being pregnant is a mircle, and one that I will thank God for every day of my life.
I can not begin to express how happy I am that she is pregnent, that we will be parents, that I will be a father. I wonder what kind of a father I will be, and confess I am worried, worried about all the mistakes I am sure I will make. Even now we discuss in every detail how we would like to bring up our child, even now I feel a twinge of panic about my inability. Hence, again, I come back to the statement that I am a broken man, made of clay. I try to remind myself it's not through what I can do, through my abilities, my skills – my roguish good looks (well, ok, I don’t have roguish good looks!) that God will work, it's through the cracks, the acknowledgments of my incapability that God can work. Its only when I say, "okay God, this is in your hands" instead of trying to do it all myself that God really gets a chance to work.
One of the things I love about God is that He is a gentlemen, this is not to imply that God is exclusively male, but rather that God has manners. God gets involved in the areas of our life we open him up to, not in the areas we lock away. The areas we lock away or try to, that’s where we have the trouble..
My lunch break is reaching an end, so I will end it there. Its been a pleasure, see you tomorrow?
A Broken Man
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