On Study

At a tutorial a few days ago I was told of a priest who had been studying Aquinas. When posted to a parish he placed all the volumes of Aquinas he owned under his bed and got on with serving his parish, not returning to them again until he retired.

I look around at my books, I read snippets of this theologian, and segments of another. I skim-read works I would like immerse myself and wonder whether, if it is deemed that I should be a parish priest, the volumes will go unread. I am an arrogant man, I believe that I am capable of being a great theologian. If I have the time to read, to study, to really think, it is my hope that other time I will be able to develop such grand sounding papers as “an integrated theology of providence and intervention in post genesis Christianity”. I would like to write things which would actually make a difference to the shape of theology, to the way church is done, to the way people think of God. A lofty and arrogant ambition indeed, and one ultimatly self-serving. Is my desire that God be known, or that I be knowing?

I find it unlikely that I will be offered a position as theologian-in-residence somewhere, with my task being predominately one of thinking with the odd lecture thrown in for good luck. My life in ministry is likely to be far more about conducting marriages and funerals, than it is about reading the works of great theologians. Maybe though, just maybe, this is a better road. Maybe it is only after 35 years of ministry that I will even begin to have a right to write on theology, and by then – I probably won't want to.

I know there has to be a balance between theory and practice. That often silence is better than speech, that its more important to learn to listen than learn to speak – and oh it’s a lesson I am in need of. I am far to much a fan of the sound of my own voice – or rather ideas (I dislike the sound of my own voice rather intensely).

So…enough rambling…I am going to go and be silent for a while

Yours as ever

The Broken Man

Apologetics

Standing at a family party with a cousin of the long suffering wife, I was asked what I am currently doing with my life. It's small talk, no one cares. I tell him I am training to be a priest. I quickly add; "it's okay, I don’t like Christians. Or church." I joke about the outfits that go with the job. It's a routine that I have become well accustomed to. I apologise, not for my faith, but the version of the chirstian faith I think most people think of when they hear the word "Christian". It all sounds so uncool, and I know that doesn’t matter, I know it's not what really counts. But I also believe, so deeply, and maybe so incorrectly that if you found out the person you were talking to was a Zen Master, or Rabbi, or .. well anything but a Christian you would think "wow, interesting" instead of "wow, I have to go now."

I wish I could find a way of explaning without the silly jokes that no-one laughs at and without the apologetic look, that I believe in a God who is incredible, who isn’t trapped in the pages of a book or chained to a church pew. Even the word "God" seems to lack something - it's musty and worn out. I don’t think I have come to terms with being a Christian yet – never mind becoming a priest one day. I am aware, really I am, that my spiel isn’t helping and that I need to find someway to be real – and I know some will say "you just need to be you, just need to tell it as it is, just need to....." but it's no little "just" – its not like there is a perfectly formed me somewhere I just need to let come out, it's (to go to the old images) like I am a stone covered in rubbish that needs grinding down till at last something more shapely is found, that deep within it all is the person I am meant to be but that it will take years – a life time under the hand of a crafts man to find the precious stone!

Oh, this entry is sickly. If I was reading this I would throw up.

Shudders

Yours as ever

In self disgust

The Broken Man

Money, Money, Money

I spoke to the relevant people about my debt at the weekend. I have been told that even if I need to go bankrupt, as long as the bankruptcy is discharged before I reach the stage of being ordained it will be okay. Obviously I don’t want to go down that particularly road, but I feel a huge weight lifted from my shoulders now that my situation is known and I havent been kicked of the course. Was going to leave this to go with a bigger write up on the weekend, but don’t know when or if I will get around to doing that and so many people have been praying about this, and asking about it, I felt I should tell you as soon as possible!

I am not much one for joy..but…just on this one occasion..I will offer a “Yippie”.

Yippie.

I realise that was an undignified outburst, but I feel it was called for. Just this once mind you.

Yours as ever,

The Broken Man

Tutorial

Tonight will be my first tutorial, my first chance to meet a couple of the people I will be training with for the next three years. We are expected to have completed unit 1 of the course by this weekend, yet we have been told to bring nothing with us to the tutorial, "it's just a chance to get to know each other…"

It will not come as a surprise to you to learn that I have read through the first five weeks of the course already and done the first essay. Hopefully, this will give me a chance to kick back a little bit and concentrate on the new module of my MA for the next four weeks, and then to flip back to the degree again. I do, however, have a sense of impending panic and doom about whether I will manage the time demands. I really want to get the most out of the degree, and the training; I want it to transform me, to make me into a better person. I would love to go in to one end of the priest-training-grinder as I am and come out the other side shiny, holy, loving, peaceful and wise. Thus far, every other sentence I have read in the study materials has made me want to stab someone to death with a rusty spoon. I really don’t feel cut out for this being a vicar lark. It's barking mad.

The plan tonight is calm..peaceful.. reserved...no sarcasm. Listen respectfully. Learn from those in my group. Think nice thoughts. Don’t become centre of attention. Don’t speak to much. Take other's points of view seriously. I can do this…I can!!

– just in case..i will take a spoon with me.

Yours as ever

The Broken Man

I Don't Care

As a priest-to-be, it is generally accepted that I should care. It's not just the big things, but the little day-to-day things that as a priest (well, okay, as a person) I am meant to care about. Things like where someone went on holiday, and how impressed they were by a concert they went to. It's these little details that make up the tapestry of people's lives.

Of all the people that I should want these details from, I am sure that my wife should be top of the list. Yet, when she gets home from the supermarket and tells me that she had a bit of a funny incident with someone charging her the wrong amount and trying to explain to the person what the problem was, and the person not understanding, and being sent to customer service (come on, please; be honest, you don’t care either)...i just lose the will to live. Dear reader, believe me, I try to care. I ask what people did at the weekend...I make the small talk, but when it comes down to it...I am really not interested. I realise that this makes me a bad person; that the rest of the world is probably deeply concerned about these hundreds of details that make up our humanity, but, for me, its all acting.

I have learnt to pretend to care about these things; sometimes I manage it, sometimes I am convincing (Wow! A new puppy! That is exciting! Are you going to take it to obedience school? It really is cute isn’t it..) other times I can hardly muster up the will to smile.

Sometimes I wonder if everyone is pretending, playing along, following the rules and trying to show an interest, and as such, it makes me very uninclined to to tell people about my life. This seems to make blogging a bit ridiculious; if I don’t care about what anyone else has to say then why should they care about what I have to say? Even as I write that sentence I realise it's not that simple. You see, sometimes reading other people's blogs I laugh out loud, or I find something incredibly touching, or I learn something. All of these things interest me. What someone brought at the supermarket (unless its funny)…well…I don’t care…does anyone? Are you all acting and just doing it better than me, or have I got the bit of me that creates an ability for interest in such things missing?

Frequently & Infrequently Asked Questions

There are some questions which I am asked on a fairly regular basis, and often the answers are buried in other posts. My apologies if you have been reading for some time and all ready know the information below, but I thought it would be worth doing a recap for those who are new here. I will put a link up to this post in the “about me” section so new people can find this post if they so desire! If there are other regular questions that come up I will add the answers to this post .

Why do you call yourself the Broken Man?
Depending on the day I have a different answer:

I am a Broken Man because of the experiences I have gone through. My parents divorced when I was 9, my father died when I was 16, my older brother died of a heroin overdoes, and I am on my second marriage. All of this has contributed, and much more beside.

I am the Broken Man, because I am broke; I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go.

I am the Broken man, because my body aches; I dropped a TV on my head and things haven't been right since.

I am a broken man because, to quote Morrissey, "the things I have seen could turn a good man bad". And I never was much of a good man.

I am a broken man because I suffer from depression. I have up days, and down days. On down days I want to drive my car into a brick wall and it feels like nothing will ever be okay.

I am the Broken Man, because I have spent a long time living in the dark – however – in the darkness I have found a light, a voice in the deafening silence, that calls to me, and a God who works through my brokenness, and holds the pieces together.


How did I find your blog?
When I am bored I start trawling through blogs, and it seems very rude to me to go into someone’s house without at least saying "hello". Hence, I left you a comment. I found you by putting key words into a blog search, or by following a comment you posted somewhere else, or by finding you on a blog roll of someone else, but I have a very bad memory and it is very unlikely I will now remember which route I took to your blog.


When is the baby due?
December. The wife and I are not too convinced about hospital predicted due dates – for first babies the studies we have looked at suggest that 42 weeks is more normal than 40, and when you tell people your due date they start asking lots of questions near the due date, like – "is it here yet?" So I prefer to just say “December”.


What branch of Christianity are you going to be a priest in?
I am training for ordination in the Church of England, which is an Anglican Church. I describe myself as a Christian (when I must), but rarely by denomination, as I tend to think denomination isn’t that important. Having said that, I like the way that theology is “done” in the Anglican church and hence this is where I am.


Why are you anonymous – how anonymous are you?
By being anonymous I feel I can say things I couldn’t if I wasn’t. For example – I can be rude about my church without offending anyone. I realise I am not incredibly anonymous and it would be very easy for someone with a burning desire to find out who I am to identify me, but I would prefer it this blog isn’t the first thing that someone finds if they put my name into Google.


How did you become a Christian?
This is a question I tend to avoid, as in honesty it’s a long and complex story, involving, much like the people of Israel in the Hebrew Bible account, following God for a while, and then falling away, before returning a little later. There is not a clear break where I can give you a date on which I became a Christian, rather there were many times when I made commitments which I then fell away from. The primary place that got me interested though was a youth discussion group which I attended with the express intention of disproving the existence of God. The thing that turned me off Christianity the most was those Christians who said that there were some things you shouldn’t ask questions about and just had to accept. The thing that impressed me the most was Christians who, no matter how much they disapproved of my life style, continued to care about me, and wanted me as their friend.


Where are you studying?
I am currently studying a Masters Degree in Jewish-Christian relations at the Wolfe Institute, Cambridge. My studies for ordination are taking the form of the first year of a degree course at a local theological collage, followed (probably) by a transfer to the Masters Degree in the second year of training. I am training part-time due to the financial constraints on me, but prefer not to name the place I am studying for Ordination with so that I am free to whine about the course if I want to!

Studying?

It seems that some of the people reading this blog are Christians; as I have mentioned I begin studying in September for ordination. As a vicar I will be required to both preach and prepare Bible Studies, and so I thought I would try some out on you, my hapless readers, if that’s okay?

Now being an interactive type I don’t want to post very long rambling Bible Studies that are of no interest to anyone but me; the plan is that we get interactive, that you tell me why what I am saying is wrong, that you take on the role of my guide. Maybe we could have a look at some of the questions together and have some discussion. It’s written that a friend sharpens a friend like iron sharpens iron. That’s the plan. So how do you want to do this? Do you want to do this at all? Its okay – I can take a "no" – I can handle it – I can – I won't cry – honest.

Studies I have recently tried writing are: Jonah, The Samaritan and the Theologian (aka the Good Samaritan), a character study of Joseph (father of Jesus), and The Circumcision of Jesus. Maybe we could take one of those, I could post part of it once a week, and we could go through it together. I'd love some new thoughts on them. If you have any friends who might have an opinion too, please invite them to pull up a chair - the more, the merrier.

So then folks – which one do you fancy? Do you like the idea at all? If you hate the idea of me posting this stuff do let me know. (I am more than happy to stick with just rambling on about my life). If you would be prepared to have a look at some studies with me, then please let me know that too.

The Broken Man

Dress To Impress

Let me first of all say how grateful I am for all the comments I have had. I won’t bore you with all the comments about feeling less alone in the world, but please do take it as read.

This evening was spent sorting through my wife’s wardrobe with her and putting away the clothes that won’t be needed till after the baby is born. This clear-out is partly increased in urgency by trying to get our flat ready to sell. I know, I know, this is the worse time in the world to sell, and I am in negative equity, but I am sure I will explain all that another time. Back to my wife’s wardrobe; It is now empty. Every part of “man” in me wants to say, "It’s not a problem! Lets hit the shops, don’t worry about a thing”. Yet there is not money in the bank. In fact…. well, there are a lot of negative figures. So instead it will be a case of “lets hit the charity shops”. Now I know it’s just a pride thing, that it doesn’t matter, that it’s just clothes, but I worry about what future I will be providing for my wife and baby.

Each night as we curl up to sleep I wrap my arm around my wife’s ever expanding stomach and say “Night baby”. I know it’s ridiculous, I know my baby cannot hear yet, but every part of me wishes the best for my wife and baby. I spent so much of my life wishing I wasn’t alive, and a fair bit of it trying to make a speedy exit and yet now there is a light, and sometimes it still feels like such hard work to struggle on, to get through to the next day.

That sounds very down, very low, and I don’t mean it to be. I am blessed, more than I could ever hope for; a baby when I thought it would never happen, a wonderful wife, being told I can train as a priest! Now that is a miracle! There is no way I would accept me for training, and I only finally put myself forward as I felt that they would say “no” and that would be that. I have felt I should be doing it for a long, long time, but I never expected anyone else to agree. Yet with the flat in negative equity and me needing to be debt free to be a vicar I can’t see how it will ever be possible. I know I need to trust, really I do, but sometimes it just seems so hard. Sorry, down again! Well, I warned you – this is the blog of a broken man.

Boy or a Girl..

My wife has no desire to know the gender of our baby before it's born; she views it as a reward that will help her through the end of labour, a surprise we should wait for. I, however, am a man, and a man who struggles extraordinarily to get my desire for instant gratification in check. I still don’t go to bed on the night before my birthday till gone midnight, in the hope that I will be able to convince my long-suffering wife that as it is *technically* my birthday I should be allowed to open a present.

I have never been good at waiting, but I do like surprises. If I tear open all my presents before I go to sleep, in the morning I will wake up disappointed that I have already had the excitement. My wife has agreed, that if I am confident that I can not let it slip, she doesn’t mind me knowing the gender of the baby first. The difficulty with this is that of course I would let it slip, I wouldn’t be able to help it. I have a pathological desire to tell the world everything; as is evidenced by this blog, I don’t do secrets. How I will cope as a priest if ever anyone wants to confess to me something truly juicy I have no idea. Don’t get me wrong, I will manage it, but we all know the whole point of knowing something is telling people.. Sorry I got carried away there for a minute…yes baby gender…

People ask from time to time, do you want a boy or girl? Now don’t get me wrong, I know the right answer. Everyone knows the right answer. “as long as its healthy…” You see the problem is, I am not worried about the baby's health. If we have a baby with serious medical problems, I can cope with that (this may come back to haunt me) but when I look at baby clothes, and children’s clothes I am always drawn to dresses and the like. I WANT A GIRL. Okay I have said it. I know that in the world of pregnancy this statement is a cardinal sin, I know you hate me…that’s okay, I can live with that, but, come on, girls are just cuter! I will be fine if we have a boy, it will be great, but part of my desire to know the gender now, is so that if it’s a boy my first thought won't be "..oh that’s a shame". Now sure my first thought will probably be "wow it’s a baby. Bet that stung…oh yes that’s going to smart in the morning" (apparently these are not the comforting comments one is allowed to make to a wife in labour).

Faced with this dilemma, I have decided to do the sensible thing, I am trusting that some fatherly parenting gene will kick in with the baby's first cry and I won't care what the baby's gender is when its born, so I have agreed with the wife..we will wait and see. So, come on dads-to-be, and dads already, be honest…did you/do you have preference, and did it matter when baby was born?

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