I crossed the round number age of 64 without any fuss despite the Beatles' rendition, because few are familiar with binary. But on having passed my 70th birthday (and Ali is just passed 71) a special brunch was put on for us this morning and accolades were read out. I found the experience quite overwhelming, humbling, that so many folk genuinely cared for, indeed love us.
Early in the morning I had discovered the arrangement in my photo and that was enough to make strong emotions rise in me, bringing to my remembrance:
"Ah!" roared Aslan. "You have conquered me. You have great hearts. Not for the sake of your dignity, Reepicheep, but for the love that is between you and your people, and still more for the kindness your people showed me long ago when you ate away the cords that bound me on the Stone Table (and it was then, though you have long forgotten it, that you began to be Talking Mice), you shall have your tail again.
There are a several resonances with my experience in this passage: one only will I draw attention to here, that it should be possible by our love for each other to conquer Aslan.
That said, I find it a strange thing that I am now in my 70's. When I was younger I associated this age with decrepit, doddering, forgetful... The last one sticks but I'm still me inside.
In my last post I pondered what makes a Christian church part of the true Church. And in a previous post I have referred to the Move with which our church has been loosely connected. There are a number of preachers who get invited to visit Move groups and one of these "travelling ministry" has recently spoken in our church here. Chatting with him, it appears that Move groups the world over are in a state of flux: that it is not just in our own group that foundations we thought had been laid good and solid are now being questioned and often torn down. And so I suppose that the end-time Move of God (to give it a fuller title) is near its end.
Am I bothered? In one sense no, and neither am I surprised, because the true Church is built on a better foundation. But I grieve for its effect on folk who have grown up under its teachings and have invested all their life, energies and funds in an edifice which is now crumbling. Personally, I do have unanswered questions but I have few regrets: I think the experience has left me stronger, wiser.
Here's one of the early Move songs. Ironically the founder of the movement was killed in a plane crash.
People of God, it is time to arise
And proclaim to creation we're not going to die.
Let it ring from the valleys and the mountains so high,
God's people proclaiming we're not going to die;
All heaven's rejoicing, now hear them all sing,
Grave, where's thy victory? O death, where's thy sting?
The saints down the centuries have all come to pass,
Each one fulfilling his God-given task;
To His sons God has spoken, and witness His cry,
And proclaim to creation we're not going to die.
The prophets of the Lord had a line that they laid,
Though they were steadfast they all died in faith,
But they spoke of a people that would one day arise,
And proclaim to creation we're not going to die.
So take courage now, brethren, and close in your ranks,
Stand on the promises, giving God thanks;
For Satan will fight us, or surely he'll try,
But he can't beat a people that aren't going to die.
Here's another post that I write ages ago but did not publish at the time...
So - I was reading the books of the Pentateuch and trying to get my head around the many rules in the so called Law of Moses. Are all these rules still applicable today or do Christians only have to contend with the moral law (e.g. Ten Commandments) and, if so, what does one do with the 3rd commandment (keeping the Sabbath)? I checked this out in Google (as one does) and ended up even more confused (as one does). I got lots of hits but found that most if not all of them were Very Opinionated.
The presbytery of one "Church of God"
For example, there are Christian movements that assert that members should keep the Jewish Sabbath i.e. from sun-down Friday and through Saturday. One such is the Living Church of God with their impressive web portal for questioning outsiders like myself. They think the whole Law of Moses still stands although I'm not sure on their application of details like You shall not boil a young goat in its mother's milk which injunction is mentioned three times in the OT repeated presumably for its importance. Some consider any Christian movement worth its salt will have the phrase "Church of God" in its title because that's what the Bible says, although a quick search of the NT showed 80 instances of "church" of which only 8 were "church of God".
Some say that, since all these things [recorded in the OT] happened unto them for ensamples: and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come, we should interpret them "spiritually" i.e. to extract some lesson from them rather get embroiled in the literal gory details. In this way the gore can conveniently and tacitly be ignored. Try telling those Israelites of old that their brutal lifestyle was only ever meant as a picture for future generations of some Vast Eternal Plan...
Wikipedia's entry for "Church of God" lists a large number of disparate movements with this phrase in their title, each considering theirs is the bee's knees. Some are offshoots from Herbert Armstrong's Worldwide Church of God (renamed Grace Communion International after their founder's death when they repudiated most of his whacky beliefs) including the above Living... Of course Armstrong claimed that his was the only true church of God while all others were counterfeits. This argument appears to be a common denominator in such movements. Indeed, in the Open Brethren church I grew up in, I found it hard to believe that any non-Brethren people could be true Christians. It came as a surprise to me, when I left home for college, to meet folk who were undeniably Christian yet were not Brethren. But, full circle, I later became involved with The Move who also implicitly regarded themselves as the true church. Granted, they did concede that there just might be Christians in other movements that had the revelation but implied this was unlikely.
If a movement or even one of its local congregations is heavily dependent on or elevate a single man or his (or her) unusual Biblical interpretation, or if they are in any way exclusive (i.e. claiming alone to be God's chosen people or at least that they are elite), or if they have a special identifying title or denomination or are insistent on having no title, or if they are the result of a split over doctrine, or if they have a special dress code or other strange rules, then I say that movement is highly questionable. It's taken me several years to learn this lesson! With, I suppose, the exception that (as I think I have observed elsewhere) main-stream Christianity itself is, of course, founded on the teachings of a single man.
What I find most disturbing is the multiplicity of Christian movements which have a substantial following and think they are right, but which are mutually in disagreement with each other. And, worse, that I have unwittingly been involved in two of them.
Don't get me wrong - it is not my intention to decry any of these movements. Let their own members decide for themselves. I say, along with the apostle Paul, that each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. It is both foolish and irresponsible to blame another person for one's state. The only trouble with this line is that I find that I am not yet "fully convinced". Indeed, the older I get the less convinced I seem to become.
In the grand Calormene manner
I was brought up in a conservative Bible believing home and thus read the book with the presumption that it was all literally true. I find I can no longer do that: I read with a more open mind and discover nuances that eluded me before. An example is the OT book of Job which seems to me to be a highly structured tale. The details of the plot can be taken with a pinch of salt but the underlying moral is clear. To me, realising that the book of Job is fiction does not detract from the power of the message - for sometimes fairy stories say best what's to be said. When applied to the rest of the Bible the effect is refreshing. Some might find it heretical saying: if Job is to be fiction then next you'll be claiming that Jesus didn't do all those miracles or rise from the dead, which logic I refute.
I wrote this post some while ago but did not publish it at the time, possibly because I was afraid of the possible repercussions of "coming out" in this respect. But since I am now working on a sequel I figured I had better publish this first so that I can refer back to it. The whole story that I want to convey will thus become rather long and drawn out, but so it must if I am to be faithful to my inner convictions (or lack of them). Let he be blessed who reads it all and can convince me otherwise.
There are folk who live here that claim that God (or Jesus maybe) speaks to them on a regular basis. It is not my place to judge them - perhaps God does often speak to them which would of course be wonderful. True, there have been occasions when I have thought God was leading me - here I refer to an inner conviction (or at least a feeling), not an audible voice. But as I intimated in my recent post I now wonder if even this was in fact just wishful thinking, and thus I also wonder if these folk blessed by frequent conversations with Almighty God are also imagining it.
I am not talking about the word of God as in the Scripture which we understand is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, and in which long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son. Such is God's general word to us whereas I am talking about specific direction from God to an individual.
A quick Google search on God's voice will uncover countless "Christian" sites - whacky and more staid and the sort that make you puke. These list the trad evangelical methods of "hearing God" that I had drummed into me as a young person and which include the supposed Still Small Voice. On the other hand, sites like this one claim that listening for God’s voice in your heart is a very new development and it’s deeply flawed.
The human mind is capable of all manner of strange artefacts - individuals we used to call "lunatic", now given PC euphemisms, who hear voices in their head; times when I have thought I had seen something "out of the corner of my eye" but then on looking more intently it is gone; vivid dreams that possibly have meaning, certainly have cause. And the "voice" of my inner conscience that deliberates my thought process, and with which I can (if I like) converse with. Perhaps this is what other folk think is God speaking? If so then it strikes me that it reflects a particularly poor sort of God, and this reminds me of the pretty poor world of She of the Green Kirtle.
Sure, you'll find many instances in the Bible of God, or an angel sent by God, speaking to this one or that. Like with Gideon. But if you consider the time period spanned by the Bible you'll find that these instances were relatively infrequent, indeed the exception and not the norm. Granted, Jesus said "my sheep hear my voice" and possibly meant this to include after his ascension, but he didn't say how often.
In this article, one that quotes Dallas Willard who seems to have been a big name in American evangelicalism, Bill Gaultiere writes "It’s hard to imagine an intimate relationship with Christ that does not include regular experiences of hearing his voice. An interactive relationship with God is conversational...". Later he writes "Today he is still speaking to our hearts in 'gentle whispers' (1 Kings 19:12)". The reference is to Elijah's "still small voice" often quoted by those who promote the personal relationship deal. But I am not at all sure that Elijah frequently heard God speak like this.
The thing is, having been brought up a staunch evangelical I feel like I ought to often hear God's voice even though my experience says otherwise. Which is sort of devastating in a way that a non-evangelical could never understand. My prayer life becomes less conversational. It becomes harder to take seriously those who really believe God speaks to them as often as their best friend. And I wonder if the foundations are cracking under my feet.
Bereavement is the experience of losing someone important to us and is characterised by grief. But losing anything of importance can result in similar albeit milder emotions. Although my retirement from Microlite began over a year ago, it is only recently that nearly all electronics and programming work has rather suddenly ceased. Then there was the decision to step down from leadership in our local church, reduced activity in helping home-schoolers, and even the loss of stamina associated with ageing. It feels a bit like those cartoons in which the ground is removed from under characters but it is only after a second or two that they start falling. I am beginning to feel that falling effect.
I’ve been re-reading Lewis’s “A grief observed”. He writes: if my house has collapsed at one blow, that is because it was a house of cards.
It is all too easy to find temporary fulfilment in work, ministry, relationships, hobbies, but when those things are taken away we wonder what life really is all about.
Bus and Train (on free pass) to Dogheda then walk/jog down coast via Mornington, Laytown, Ballbriggan and finally to Skerries. It would have been more enjoyable had it been a tad warmer, but great fun nonetheless. 17.6 miles, average speed 3.4mph. Thus mostly walking!
The Guards stopped me along the road to Mornington - apparently a passing motorist had queried my appearance: barefoot, jogging, and holding a bag. Do they not do such things in Drogheda?
Crack: a line on the surface of something along which it has split without breaking apart.
A crack implies compromised physical strength to the point of catastrophic failure. It involves a structural discontinuity, and may also provide a glimpse into what is on the other side, as in peeping through a crack in a solid fence.
LP cover Watered Garden by Cloud
A long time ago (1976 in fact) we purchased or were given an LPWatered Garden by Cloud, and the track Surely the Lord is in this place has stuck with me all these years. It is, of course, based on Jacob's words on waking from his stairway-to-heaven dream:
Surely the LORD is in this place; and I knew it not... How dreadful is this place! This is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.
It stuck with me for the unexpected turn of the melody in describing this "dreadful place".
Here is another composer's rendering: Locus Iste which translates as This place was made by God:
OK, you say, it was "only" a dream. But what a dream! In my imagination "the gate of heaven" is like a crack giving a fleeting glimpse into the heavenly realm. There are other similar Biblical instances such as Moses and the burning bush, the three men that "appeared" out of the blue to Abraham:
And the LORD appeared unto him in the plains of Mamre: and he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day; And he lift up his eyes and looked, and, lo, three men stood by him...
or Gideon's encounter, the angel Gabriel visiting Mary, even the Revelation to John. Not to mention the miracles of Jesus. These encounters (unless you are the sort that simply dismisses them as myth) do not follow the "normal" course of human experience. Perhaps they are all examples of cracks in normality?
If cracks they be, I want to see some cracks with my own eyes. But maybe I'd be blown away by what I saw?
In this indolent day-and-age it is possible for many of us Westerners to live most of our lives within our comfort zone and never (by our choice at least) venture outside it. In this way some folk would never try a rollercoaster even if you paid them. But a modicum of discomfort appears to be a healthy diet. Only by crossing the line of certainty and familiarity can you grow: pain is a signal of learning.
I have noted elsewhere how major changes like retirement or disillusionment with one's former beliefs have jolted me out of comfort leaving me feeling empty, lacking in motivation. I will gather all such changes together and label them one's predicament. Viktor Frankl's classic tells us of the overriding need for meaning in life even if there is believed to be none. Else one's predicament is liable to result in untimely death.
Meaning can be synthesised by demarcating an area (arbitrarily if need be) and then taking ownership over it. Like learning to master even mundane tasks like washing up the dishes or weeding the garden. The area could be material (a plot of land, a building, a machine) or intangible (a skill, a peculiar hobby, a favourite artist, the love and care for another person). It hardly matters: what does matter is that you choose to make it your domain and, as such, you nourish it, excel in it, make it beautiful, even use it to the betterment of others. But all of that not because anyone made you do it, or even suggested you should. Even if it was not your number one choice of activity you chose to do it, and do it you will, to the best of your ability. I will call this area your domain.
Back to where we were. So a predicament has removed meaning from one's life. You side-step and, by concentrating on your domain, you create a degree of meaning. But every so often, figuring there must be more to life, you look outside your domain - you look for a crack in what has become your normality.
I've been refreshing my knowledge of "modern physics" with a view to giving our eldest two students a brief summary as their last science lesson in our home-school here. The story is all about the cracks that started to appear in Newtonian aka classical physics around the turn of the 19th century. Cracks that opened a vista into realms hitherto unimagined: quantum mechanics with its wave-particle duality and uncertainty principle and ever smaller elementary particles making up the Standard Model; Einstein's theories of relativity with its invariant speed of light, mass-energy equivalence and curved space-time; cosmologists, aided by the James Webb telescope, finding an ever expanding universe and ever increasing numbers of galaxies; and biologists with their fossil data insisting that the theory of evolution is so well attested that it should be taught in schools as a fact.
Search for "cracks in the fabric of the universe" and you'll find that some scientists believe there really are cracks although what this knowledge does for us is not entirely clear. These cracks, if they exist at all, are fault lines, artefacts left over from the big bang and are or may be miles long, vanishingly thin, tremendously heavy but as yet invisible to us. I want better than that! Personally I'd be more interested in the sort of cracks that you can first see and then pass through... But what if one of these big bang cracks got too close to planet Earth...?
When ordinary people (like myself) try to make head or tail of all this, they can easily get the wrong end of the stick and fall for conspiracy theories or other nonsenses, but I suggest even the ordinary person has enough discernment to get the gist and recognise a crack when they experience one.
Back to where we were. In this my research it has become even more that usually evident that there are a lot of things I do not know for sure. In fact so prevalent are these things that I decided it is better to start with things that I do know for sure. Sadly I find there are precious few. I used to pare my Christian beliefs to the bare essential "Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tell me so" but I do a double take of even this now-a-days.
So I started a quest for "things I am sure about" and for cracks in all the rest. I recognise I am sadly ill-informed but I desperately want to know what is on the other side of the fence. I want the willingness to learn a potentially unsettling or life-changing truth by taking the red pill.
My last visit was two years ago, so I figured it was fit for another.
22.4 miles bike'n'hike, 818m gain
Same as last time, I parked my bike in Lacken, went up the "mass path" and thence to the summit of Sorrel Hill at which point it started to downpour rain mixed with hail and a tidy head wind in my face. It was exceedingly chilly but descend I must and the quicker the better. By the time I had reached the road it had just about stopped.
I remote teach maths to an eight-year old home-schooled girl who lives the other side of the mountains. Let's say her name is Beth.
Beth is a delightful girl with a great sense of humour, full of sparkle, fun and mischief but not so full of maths. She is not "girl-ish" i.e. is not all about clothes and dolls. She treats me (and I try to treat her) as an equal albeit her teacher. In anything other than maths we get on remarkably well.
She has a constant undercurrent of fun, machinations, anecdotes that hardly gives her time to engage in simple maths. And yet she is not numerically clueless - often it seems that a maths question or method I pose is either beneath her dignity to comment on, or else after a short pause she concludes "I don't know". Period. No matter how I turn the concept around, once she has decided it is too hard that's it. So I quickly change the subject hoping so doing to re-engage her attention...
It is not a secret that I am struggling with my Christian "faith". But I am still open for input; searching if you will. Struggling, but not given up. I find my own experience is not dissimilar to Beth's. I'm reading the book of Ezekiel at the moment (as one does) and have got to his temple vision. What does this mean, what relevance has it for me? I try commentaries and search the internet and nothing that I find helps my understanding appreciably. Along with many other things I again have to admit to myself: "I don't know". Even as I write these words I can picture Beth's face as she utters these words - two trains of thought: this one stops there point blank, the other continues as if nothing untoward has occurred - like, "what's this under my desk?" (she pulls out and starts to play with a ball of Blue-Tack) or "I'm going to give you a surprise" (get's paper and pencil and shifts the camera so that I cannot she her writing) - minutes pass and eventually she holds up her priceless work of art... Her latest taunt is "maths is so boring".
I've come to love Beth - the maths question, however, remains unanswered.
This post might seem like a "poor me" or parts of it even like boasting. Think that if you want, but I am trying to make a point.
If you know me or you've followed my blog you'll know that I excelled in my school A-levels. My parents told me to do my best, so I did. Although I grant that, in my O-levels, I failed History and only just passed English Literature even though I could (and still can) quote from memory Et tu Brute? and Let me have men about me who are fat... yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look... such men are dangerous. My English teacher had said quotes were like the plums in the pudding.
I excelled at college too, leaving with a First Class Honours degree. And did pretty well in my first job working in the prestigious BBC Research Department during which I was granted MIET and CEng which title I have retained (by paying an annual subscription) until recently.
After a few years doing odd jobbing building work while playing at radical church, I started my own electronics design business and completed a number of projects for various customers. To facilitate this work I have a home office cum workshop and have taught myself how to hand solder down to 0.4mm pitch, how to program embedded devices in assembler or 'C' and some PC programming as well.
And then, all of a sudden I retired and electronics work dried up. True, I continue to provide occasional technical support for that one active project, but otherwise my office and its equipment and stock of components has become largely redundant.
I had wondered about teaching - trying to pass on the skills I have learned, for the benefit of the next generation. But so far no one appears to be interested. The parents of young children in the community here have decided to quit the assisted home schooling we have assumed to be the norm for oh so many years, so it looks like there will be no need for my usual maths and physics teaching here. So instead I am helping my son doing some building renovation work here, and stoke the wood-burning boiler, weed the drive and mend things around the place that others have broken. Come the summer (if we haven't already missed it) I may take a day or two to go exploring now that I have a Senior Citizen free travel pass. But otherwise it is a strange feeling, this being retired is. I have always considered myself as being highly motivated and never, dare I even utter the word, bored. No, I'm not bored, really I'm not, but sometimes I'm not sure that I am fully motivated and I wonder what life is all about. We come and go like a ripple on a stream.
I don't listen to Buckner symphonies very often for fear of them becoming too familiar. Like - too much of a good thing. Also it's hard to justify a time slot long enough to listen to a complete symphony so I tend to listen a movement at a time. Tonight it was Günter Wand's rendition of Buckner's final masterpiece and it was truly awesome. I say all this because it seems wrong that others should not get to enjoy it, either because of ignorance, claimed distaste or having "more important" things to do.
My link takes you to the 3rd movement but, if you have time, you really ought to rewind to the beginning.
Every year I have to see if I can still manage to complete the Church Mountain route. Because I am not getting any younger. I won't claim that I ran all the way, but I did make it there and back, barefoot of course. Nothing new about the route but still delightful there, up and down, apart from the drudgery of the return along minor roads some with loose chippings (ouch!): 14.7 miles, average speed moving 3.8mph, elevation gain 561m, total time taken 3:50, and made it back in just enough time for a quick shower before dinner. Oh, and I stopped at the summit for no more than a minute or so, long enough only to exchange pleasantries with a young couple there.
I have mentioned that I suffer from tinnitus. It manifests as white noise in the upper register and is always present but most of the time I can ignore it. It is not so annoying as to prevent me carrying on a normal life, except when my surroundings are quiet or when I want to listen to a quietly spoken voice or music. Additionally, but related, is the discomfort I feel in a noisy environment such as at meal-time or the cacophony in praise-time in church.
I enjoy listening to music (my tastes are mostly classical) and playing the piano (though not well). One effect, doubtless caused by the tinnitus, that I have recently noticed is that I am unable, or at least find it difficult, to detect the pitch of a quiet note, particularly if it is in the lower register. For example, when sight reading music I know when I have played a wrong note - unless I am playing it very quietly. And then I am at least aware of the sound but I cannot be sure that it is the right pitch. Probably this is because the volume of the tinnitus is partially obscuring the note. I like to harmonise when singing in church but, again, I can be unsure that I am singing the correct pitch.
For someone who loves listening to and making music this is kind of scary. Like, where will it end? Am I to share Beethoven's destiny (though without the musical acumen)?
Apparently this is a known effect as in this site which suggests that "tinnitus acts as something of a pitch magnet, drawing the voice or instrument to inaccurate notes."
First proper foray of 2022. The occasion being the first decent weather this year.
Hiking part 9.1 miles, elevation gain 787m
Bike to Pound Lane, Lacken, then hike over Black Hill to Mullaghcleevan then back via beautiful Cleevan Lough. Then bike back via Blessington. Fuel: one creme egg plus one granola bar.
I had taken N to the Beacon Hospital and had a spare few hours, so why not climb the nearest mountain. Two Rock Mountain is the highest in the Dublin Mountains range at 536m. I parked in the Blue Light car park. There are numerous trails to choose from. Storm Dudley was brewing - the forecast suggested I had to be done by midday, but already there was a tidy wind and wetness in the air so when I got back to the car I was considerably wet even if not quite soaking. The summit cairn is thought to cover a burial chamber and is known locally as the Fairy Castle. I saw no fairies though, nor the two rocks, nor any view. The wind made it difficult to walk and, having circumvented the cairn once, I made a hasty return trip to avoid hypothermia.
In our meeting the other evening we sang the song "King of My Heart" by Bethel Music. The chorus (which we repeated ad nauseam) goes:
'Cause You are good, You are good, oh oh You are good, You are good, oh oh You are good, You are good, oh oh You are good, You are good, oh oh
reminiscent of Gerald's "Peace will come..." in Adrian Plass' Sacred Diary. It set me thinking... The endless repetition should, I suppose, be excused as a literary device denoting emphasis. The song argues "You're never gonna to let me down" (also repeated) because "You are good". What, I wondered, goes through people's mind when they sing this? Is it good like chocolate? A gooey sort of goodness that makes me feel... well... good? I think not.
God, as portrayed in the Bible, is more like "terribly good" or "awfully good" - in each case employing the proper meaning of the adverbs, as in "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. " and "let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him".
The children's introduction to Aslan (in the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) illustrates this well:
"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.
"Safe?" said Mr Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
And later on Mr Beaver tells the children: "He's wild, you know. Not like a tame lion."
You won't find many other Bible references to God being good. Here's one where Jesus quips "Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone." According to Strongs, the Greek word used means "good (in any sense)" and the Hebrew word used in the OT means "good in the widest sense". Maybe this is more helpful than at first meets the eye. Whereas we consider "good" as a description of God as in "God is good", I suggest that we have it upside down and that it would be better to say "good is God", i.e. that God is the definition of true goodness. We know a thing to be truly good if it is like God. Which rules out the chocolate argument.
This goodness of which we speak is not a license for our lazy behaviour. Paul sums it up by "What then? shall we sin, because we are not under the law, but under grace? God forbid."
