Noticably Absent

OK, contemporary worship songs are an easy target for criticism,
unimaginative in tabulation and lyrically retarded. That's not saying
anything new. But something else has dawned on me and it's not just
the new songs that suffer from this - the old hymns fall into the same
trap too. In seeking to capture something of the glory of God
reference is frequently made to created things. But only certain
categories of creation. Skies, stars, trees, seas - all that stuff may
well be employed to draw our attention to the One behind it. And then
by way of metaphor we may well be asked to consider the sentient world
- the eagle, the lion, the lamb. My question is this: if humanity is
the pinnacle of all God has made why are we entirely absent from the
language of worship? Are we so overwhelmed by our falleness that we
can't celebrate the God-image within us? Or are we worried that we
might mistake such celebration for celebrity and become the objects of
our own worship?

--
faithscape21.blogspot.com

Faithscape 21

I JUMPED!

I'm thinking about committing blog suicide...

Even though I've found writing this blog has had a wonderfully cathartic efect upon my soul I'm getting worried that in the long term it's not likely to do me or my readers any good. When I use the phrase blog suicide I don't mean I'm thinking about stopping blogging altogether, I'm just talking about this blog in particular (you may be aware I have a few that I chip away at). Actually, I don't think I'm making myself clear - I don't mean the 'Urban Faithscape' domain - although that may have to go too. No, what I'm really getting at is a concern with the bit of my personality that I have allowed to come out to play through this blog in the last year or so, the contentious, skeptical part of me. If the only people who ever read this blog were total strangers I don't think the problem would be so acute. However, people who do know me, at work, at church, family, friends, all stop by this blog and... well... how do I put this... I don't know if exposing my naked thoughts like I often do here online is particularly helpful to them. One of the reasons I started blogging was to help people get to know me better but I think I may be doing the opposite - you may well read my blog and then feel that you know me less. You could be really confused. So could I. (In fact I most certainly am!!!)
So, this is where I find myself on the eve of a new year, standing on the bridge, looking down, taking a deep breath. Of course there's always the possibility that maybe a random hero will come along and talk me out of it...

Manchester Christmas Flash Mob - Pillow Fight!

I was just enjoying Saturday afternoon with my feet up when I looked at the clock... 2.02 pm... Aaaah!!! The Flash Mob has just started and I've missed it! A few moments of dithering followed, and then a decision. OK, it might be all over by the time I get there but at least I can get some photos of the aftermath. 2.12 pm... Whaheeey!!! Arrive in Albert Square to find that the Manchester Christmas flash mob pillow fight is, quite literally, still in full swing. Actually, I'm kind of glad I'm late because it means I don't feel too bad about spectating rather than participating - plus the average age of the combatants is about 14. Also, I clearly don't have the correct pillow fighting uniform, skin tight Emo jeans and loosely fitting hoody. It's clear that these kids have got plenty of energy and they're having too much fun to hold to the flash mob rules too steadfastly, i.e. this crowd show no signs of dispersing any time soon. A solitary policeman flanked by two PCSO's looks on nervously and then makes a heroic charge when the crowd momentarily turn on the little sweeper van attempting to hoover up all the feathers. I know a couple of people who are getting married in the Town Hall at 4 o'clock; I don't think the council could complain about them throwing confetti around after this lot.

See my photos of the pillow fight here>>>

Changing my mind

2006 has been a year of intense questioning for me. On the whole the questions I've been asking have led me to exciting discoveries. But the process has meant laying down some long-held ideas about my life and my faith. However, as the year draws to a close I'm somewhat haunted by words I read about a month ago in G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy,
"As long as the vision of heaven is always changing, the vision of earth will be exactly the same. No ideal will remain long enough to be realized, or even partly realized. The modern young man will never change his environment, for he will always change his mind."
Ouch - that hurts! But I so need to hear it. For someone of my creative disposition the idea of holding to a single vision for the rest of my days seems utterly unattainable. And yet both the voice of reason and the voice of experience both persuade me that Chesterton is right. If I want to change the world around me I need to be a lot less fickle and a lot more focused. So, rather than being discouraged I feel strangely motivated. In the new year I intend to use this thought to propel me into even more vigorous questioning, with the aim of gaining a vision of heaven that is clearer than I've ever possessed before. Then hopefully I can get on with bringing it to earth. Maranatha!

The Trouble with Channel 4

I've just finished watching 'The Trouble with Atheism' on Channel 4. Whilst it was rather refreshing to hear some of the central atheist ideas getting challenged on prime time TV it was tedious to have to watch Rod Liddle doing the challenging. Why do the 'faith programmes' on Channel 4 get the world's worst presenters? It's the equivalent of having Alan Hansen commentating on a whole game... utterly tedious. Liddle, and C4's other fiath-man Robert Beckford are just about bearable as pundits but neither can carry an hour long documentary (the same goes for Dawkins too - but his programmes are blatant propoganda not TV). It makes no sense when you consider that there are a heck of a lot of people of faith in the UK and the TV channels are in a ratings war. Please C4, rather than making the public endure endless cuatways of Liddle talking to himself in gardens, or inflicting the tedious Scooby Doo mystery approach of Beckford on another adventure, just give me a call, I might be available ;-)

Lowest Common Denominator

I've just got in from my first ever night out at the Frog & Bucket - probably Manchester's most respected stand-up comedy venue. I was there to see my mate Ian take his first ever dive into public stand-up at the Monday night 'Beat the Frog' open mic slot. Each contestant has to try and do five minutes without getting voted off by the 3 judges. Unfortuneately Ian was first up and I thought he got a really bad deal - he was just getting into his stride when he got voted off after three minutes thirty five. To be honest he did a lot better than some of the other contenders who only lasted a minute or two. The sad thing about the whole night was how often the comedians resorted to cheap, base, gross gags - and not really to get a laugh - just to get a moan of reaction or revulsion! Fortuneatley my short term memory is pretty poor because I just wouldn't want to recall some of the grim locker-room humour. I'm pretty sure Ian was encouraged enough by his 3:35 to go back for some more and he needs to, he was one of the only guys on the stage who earned the crowd's respect without resorting to the lowest common denominator. Big up Hende!

Socrates and The Art of Discourse

This morning I got together with some friends who share responsibility with me for guiding the direction of our church community. Things got quite heated when we got on to the subject of 'teaching'. We all agreed that as a community we need to be learning together but differed about how we should facilitate this learning - particularly as the community includes lots of people who are from backgrounds where they have been used to a presentational 'from the front' teaching format. My personal view on this format is that it discourages people from taking ownership of their own learning and in the worst case creates an unhealthy dependency on leaders.
Anyway, I got home, had lunch, and picked up the book I'm reading at the moment - Sophie's World - another one of those books I should've read 10 years ago. Rather spookily, I'd just reached the page about Socrates which has the subtitle 'The Art of Discourse'...
The essential nature of Socrates' art lay in the fact that he did not appear to want to instruct people. On the contrary he gave the impression of one desiring to learn from those he spoke with. So instead of lecturing like a traditional schoolmaster, he discussed.
Obviously he would not have become a famous philosopher had he confined himself purely to listening to others. Nor would he have been sentenced to death. But he just asked questions, especially to begin a conversation, as if he knew nothing. In the course of the discussion he would generally get his opponents to recognize the weakness of their arguments, and, forced into a corner, they would finally be obliged to realize what was right and what was wrong.
Socrates, whose mother was a midwife, used to say that his art was like the art of a midwife. She does not herself give birth to the child, but she is there to help during its delivery. Similarly, Socrates saw his task as helping people to 'give birth' to the correct insight, since real understanding must come from within. It cannot be imparted by someone else. And only the understanding that comes from within can lead to true insight.

Flashmobbing

Flashmobbing is just one of the many things that makes me happy to be alive now rather than at any of the other interesting times in history. For those of you who aren't familiar with the concept a Flashmob is a crowd of people, who follow an instruction, probably given by text or email, to aseemble in a designated place, at a specific time, to briefly do something ridiculous, then disapear. Favourite tricks of the Flashmobbers are having an iPod disco, pillowfighting and applause. Passers-by are totally confused and bewildered by this Trigger Happy behaviour. A couple of days ago the biggest ever Flasmob event took place, at Paddington Station in London. According to some accounts over 3000 people gathered to form a mobile nightclub at 7:18pm precisely. The clip below captures the action. Now I just have to get myself signed up, I hear that a pillowfight is due to happen in Manchester sometime before Christmas!

...more Cosmic Love

In today's snippet from G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy I've used a little bit of artistic licence - the original version of this text doesn't use Manchester as the example. I do think that this minor modification sharpens the point somewhat!
"Let us suppose we are confronted with a desperate thing-- say Manchester. If we think what is really best for Manchester we shall find the thread of thought leads to the throne or the mystic and the arbitrary. It is not enough for a man to disapprove of Manchester: in that case he will merely cut his throat or move to Wilmslow. Nor, certainly, is it enough for a man to approve of Manchester: for then it will remain Manchester, which would be awful. The only way out of it seems to be for somebody to love Manchester: to love it with a transcendental tie and without any earthly reason. If there arose a man who loved Manchester, then Manchester would rise into ivory towers and golden pinnacles; Manchester would attire herself as a woman does when she is loved. For decoration is not given to hide horrible things: but to decorate things already adorable. A mother does not give her child a blue bow because he is so ugly without it. A lover does not give a girl a necklace to hide her neck. If men loved Manchester as mothers love children, arbitrarily, because it is THEIRS, Manchester in a year or two might be fairer than Florence. Some readers will say that this is a mere fantasy. I answer that this is the actual history of mankind. This, as a fact, is how cities did grow great. Go back to the darkest roots of civilization and you will find them knotted round some sacred stone or encircling some sacred well. People first paid honour to a spot and afterwards gained glory for it. Men did not love Rome because she was great. She was great because they had loved her."