John 3:30

I've been musing over a great passage in Scripture this week. In our housegroup, we've been working through the Gospel of John. The first few chapters speak of Jesus' ministry, and how he was reaching out into a community that so needed him. It personally struck me that there is also a unique message to be learned from the relationship between Jesus and his cousin John the Baptist. Have a look at this passage:

After this, Jesus and his disciples went out into the Judean countryside, where he spent some time with them, and baptized. Now John also was baptizing at Aenon near Salim, because there was plenty of water, and people were constantly coming to be baptized. (This was before John was put in prison.) An argument developed between some of John's disciples and a certain Jew over the matter of ceremonial washing. They came to John and said to him, "Rabbi, that man who was with you on the other side of the Jordan—the one you testified about—well, he is baptizing, and everyone is going to him." To this John replied, "A man can receive only what is given him from heaven. You yourselves can testify that I said, 'I am not the Christ but am sent ahead of him.' The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom's voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete. He must become greater; I must become less.

It struck me that John had it all. Indeed he had to go to a new site of water that was large enough for his increased ministry. It is however amazing that he is prepared to give it all up, at the pinnacle of his missionary success, for the one that is greater than him. I guess that we have to do that everyday; just as we begin to believe in our success (evangelistic or not), we must remember where that success has come from, the one who must become greater.

Zeal

Just discovered an amazing orchestral piece by the composer John Adams. The music is over-played by a sermon. The words are below, and the script reflects the motivations of Adams, as certain phrases keep repeating themselves. Check it out...

I believe that. And I believe that same Jesus is present through the power of the Holy Spirit, right here in this room, right now. Right now. I believe that. And I believe that same Jesus is present through the power of the Holy Spirit, right here in this room, right now. Right now. And he wants to meet every need. Now what's wrong with the withered hand? Why would Jesus have been drawn to a withered hand, healing all that were oppressed of the devil? I believe that. And I believe that same Jesus is present through the power of the Holy Spirit, why would-- Jesus is present through the power of the Holy Spirit, right here in this room, right now. And he wants to meet every need. Now what's wrong with the withered hand? Why would Jesus have been drawn to a withered hand? And I believe that same Jesus is present through the power of the Holy Spirit. I believe that. And I believe that same Jesus is present through the power of the Holy Spirit, right now. Right now. Now what's wrong with the withered hand? Why would Jesus been drawn to a withered hand of a man who was in the synagogue? Now what's wrong with the withered hand? Why would Jesus -- Right here in this room, right now -- And he wants to meet every need. Why would Jesus been drawn to a withered hand of a man who was in the synagogue? Jesus Christ not only healed this man in the synagogue that had the withered hand, but I believe this very same story has a message for you and me even down here in this year in which we live. Now I believe Jesus Christ not only healed this man in the synagogue that had the withered hand -- And I believe that same Jesus is present through the power of the Holy Spirit. Now what's wrong with the withered hand? Why would Jesus been drawn to a withered hand of a man who was in the synagogue? But I believe this very same story has a message for you and me even down here in which we live. Jesus knew all about that. They said, "Who can forgive sins but God?" But God? But God? They said, "But God?" They said, "Who can forgive sins but God?" Then he said, "Take up your bed and walk." But God? Then he said, "Take up your bed and walk." Forgive sins but God? Then he said, "Take up your bed and walk."Now I believe Jesus Christ not only healed this man in the synagogue who had the withered hand, but I believe this very same story has a message for you and me even down here in this year in which we live. Then he said, "Take up your bed and walk." And I believe that same Jesus is present through the power of the Holy Spirit, right here in this room, right now. Right now. Right now. And he wants to meet every need. Now what's wrong with the withered hand? Why would Jesus been drawn to a withered hand? Why would Jesus been drawn to a withered hand -- drawn to a withered hand -- of a man that was in the synagogue? To a withered hand of a man that was in a synagogue? Well, a withered hand can't hold on to anything. Jesus coming -- Jesus moved -- Jesus moved about with his divine appointment. Jesus is here, and this place is packed with people standing outside, and Jesus walks in. Jesus always moves with divine appointment, and he had an appointment: someone that had a withered hand and if they could hold --

Suffering and Triumph

I was mulling over the responses that we have to suffering. In many places across the world today, the response to suffering or persecution is often to persecute in return and likewise cause more suffering. I just flicked through the Word today and found some great teaching on this in 2 Peter 2:21-25:

"...for you have been called for this purpose, since Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example for you to follow in His steps, who committed no sin, nor was any deceit found in His mouth; and while being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously; and He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by His wounds you were healed. For you were continually straying like sheep, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Guardian of your souls."

Christians are called to suffering. Verse 21 begins with the phrase, "For you have been called for this purpose." The connective "for" points back to the last part of verse 20: "If when you do what is right and suffer for it you patiently endure it, this finds favor with God." Christians are to endure suffering because it pleases God. Verse 21 amplifies the idea by stating that Christians are specifically called to suffer. That shouldn't surprise us. Peter had just said that Christians "are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God's own possession, that [they] may proclaim the excellencies of Him who [called them] out of darkness into His marvelous light" (v. 9). Our dark world resents and is often hostile towards those who represent the Lord Jesus Christ. That resentment and hostility may be felt at certain times and places more than others, but it is always there to some extent.

Christians are matured by suffering. A Christian's call to glory necessitates walking the path of suffering. First Peter 5:10 explains why: "After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you." Suffering is God's way of maturing His people spiritually. He is pleased when we patiently endure the suffering that comes our way. Suffering is a part of God's plan to prepare His people for glory. 1 Peter 1:6-7--"You greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ." God allows suffering as a validation of our faith. It also produces patience, though patience is a quality we won't need in eternity--there will be no reason for impatience there. Yet beyond those benefits, suffering increases our capacity to praise, glorify, and honor God--and that's something we will use throughout eternity.

Christians are brought to glory through suffering. 2 Corinthians 4:17--Our "momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison." While suffering does make us stronger now--it makes us able to endure with patience, increases our faith, teaches us to trust God, and leads us to depend on Christ and His Word--it also affects how we will function later. That's why Paul went on to say our focus isn't on the now but the future: "We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal" (v. 18).

Christians are identified with Christ in their suffering. Christians are identified with their Master because like Him, they suffer to enter their glory. Luke 24:25-26--Christ said to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, "O foolish men and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary for the Christ to suffer these things and to enter into His glory?" Our Lord had to explain that future glory required that He suffer. We're to expect the same.

The path to glory for Christ was the path of unjust suffering. That's our path also. Our Lord endured suffering with perfect patience and was exalted to the highest point of glory. He is our example of how to respond to suffering.

Gratitude for God

It struck me today that a religion is a lot about gratitude. Check out this passage from 2 Corinthians 4:15:

"It is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God."

It strikes me that everything that we get from God is given through his great mercy, rather than as a result of anything that we could have possibly achieved. Paul knew this fact very well during his teaching ministry, and the second letter to the church at Corinth is filled with references to this fact. His mission was to tell men about the death and resurrection of Christ, but his mission was only to be completed when God's glory was revealed. His task was to get people to look upwards, in awe of the Lord, rather than at his human frame. But thanksgiving is definitely a part of this process...

Gratitude is more than just saying "Thankyou", and other phrases that can just come out rather than truly be meant, or that are expressed as a form of custom. I guess gratitude is therefore a form of delight, something that we feel and act upon in a spontaneous manner, not involving massive amounts of willpower. But again the term should go deeper. We can delight in a gift, but still be ungrateful to the giver if we do not use it as they intended (or even not use it at all). Gratitude is therefore something that you feel towards someone, a bond that develops as a result of their gift to you.

Gratitude must be related to grace, as is described in the quotation that I used at the beginning of the section. You feel gratitude toward the one that has been gracious to you. I guess that this is a lot like people saying "Thankyou" even when it is not necessary. These are the people that through their kind words and appreciation move the exchange of a gift beyond a mere formal transaction. The grace has not been paid for, and therefore we are grateful for that gift to us. But in the example of the person saying "Thankyou", the words also indicate a sense of humility as we happily meet the needs of those that honour us. When grace penetrates our hearts, it is transmitted back to God as gratitude.

Finally, an excerpt from a sermon by John Piper:

Hudson Taylor, who endured great hardships and tragedies in his lifelong mission work in China, said when he was old, "I never made a sacrifice." What he meant was that along the path of self-denying service you experience so much joyful gratitude for God's sustaining grace that, whatever you forsake to buy that pearl, it is as if there were no sacrifice at all. Therefore, a life that gives glory to God for his grace and a life of deepest gladness are always the same life. And what makes them one is gratitude.

King of Kings

Real Worship

The Real Symposium

Roger Scruton, a philosopher and countryside campaigner, has been scribbling his musings in the New Statesman this past week (18th September). I found the article "Wine and Wisdom", a piece that looks at what modern dinner guests should be thinking about. I must admit that at times this seems applicable to the university symposium and seminar - especially with the alcohol flowing, and the glances of desire being thrown across the room:

Very few great works of philosophy are also great works of art. However, Plato's Symposium is both. It is a vivid invocation of the Athenian polis and its leading characters, including Alcibiades, Aristophanes and Socrates. And it is without compare as a philosophical treatment of sexual desire - a topic that philosophers down the ages have largely avoided, with only Schopenhauer and Sartre venturing the kind of comprehensive account of it that we find in Plato. Ostensibly, the work is merely a report of a drinking party, in which the characters stumble, in their cups, over ideas and emotions that lie hidden in their daily lives.

In that lies its artfulness. There are ideas which appear ridiculous in ordinary conversation, which are nevertheless obvious when drunk. And, by retrieving from the conversation of drunks the truths that wine has revealed to them, Plato is able to prepare his reader to accept what would otherwise appear so fanciful and remote from ordinary human dealings as to be dismissed as a fairy tale. He was able to say something about sexual desire that is as shocking to his contemporaries as it is to modern people - namely, that desire is directed towards another person, but with a hidden goal. This goal is not pleasure, or orgasm, or any of those sensual and commonplace things, but the knowledge of beauty and truth. Sexual desire is therefore more prone to corruption than any other human feeling, and the physical part of it is precisely what is most dangerous to the soul.

Try publishing that in Cosmopolitan or Tatler, and see what laughs you'll get. But, as Plato brilliantly shows, it is a view of the matter to which we all of us tend in our cups, and it is one of the virtues of wine that it turns our thoughts towards a truth that looks ridiculous in our sober routines, and therefore condemns those routines as ridiculous.

We should recognise, however, that wine leads us to such surprising conclusions only when swallowed in the right way, and it is another great virtue of Plato's masterpiece that it tells us how to do it. The symposium was the very opposite of the modern dinner party, in which conversation breaks into loud-mouthed fragments, with nobody pausing to address the table as a whole, and no guest prepared to yield space to a neighbour.

In a symposium the wine circulates slowly, is drunk gradually, and with due libations to the gods. The conversation is general and speakers take it in turns to contribute. Gradually, as shyness is dissolved and the imagination freed, the hidden truths that ordinary life forbids begin to congregate on the horizon, beckoning to the company for wine, as the ghosts in Homer beckon for sacrificial blood.

Try it some day, and you will be surprised to discover what you really think.

Scully and Me (...and maybe Mulder, if he's into that kinda thing)

I have a confession to make. I think Scully is HOT. I've come to this conclusion after watching the first five series of the X-Files during my (rather unproductive) summer, and rediscovering the horny teenager inside of me that I never knew existed. When I can't sleep after one episode, I blame it on the gruesome storyline ... when instead Scully is on my mind.

Before this sounds like a PostSecret confession in the making, my love for Scully is indicative of something else (and before you mention it, no, not a secret thing for my mum). I've been struck by the way in which these old epsiodes of the X-Files return onself to a world without care. A world in which the threat of alien invasion and government conspiracy was one of our more demanding concerns. In short, the paranoia of Mulder and Scully is so appealing because it is not a paranoia that we ourselves are now embracing, it is one that we have since replaced with something far more dangerous and consuming.

Our new paranoia is again "out there". But this time, the men in black are more likely to be wearing a burkha or turban. Or so we are led to believe. The "War on Terror" has so permeated our lives and imaginations that all of our Hollywood blockbusters and HBO dramas have to have some sort of terrorist plot if they are to gain some critical praise for their "gritty realism". Gone are the days when we could look to the skys and wonder if there really were some little green men up there with some expensive gamma rays. Now the television executives demand counter-terrorism action, oil executives on the pull and the latest MI5 gadgetry. I'm quite frankly fed up of this realism in modern drama. It's not just TV either; it extends to the theatre and the latest novels.

I think we need to take a look at what we are letting ourselves be consumed by. The doctrine of "terrorists everywhere we look" might be a conveniant one for a government trying to sell its latest erosion of habeus corpus, but it should not be one that we become so saturated in that we feel it is somehow rather realistic (and therefore sexy). I'm not trying to say that we should replace our fear of Al-Qaeda with a fear of martians. What I am saying is that the state of our collective health and fixations can be expressed through what we choose to watch. A little bit of escapism should be allowed to flourish, and I'd argue that the recent success of Doctor Who on the BBC is in part thanks to this. Let's not become slaves to a fear that has been permeated by the latest drama; that is in fact what the terrorist want us to feel. Instead, lets look elsewhere (to the stars even) for a bit of entertainment that puts our daily lives into perspective ... and may even throw up the equivalent of a red-headed minx once in a while.

Blygt

PS - I've attached an interesting video from the X-Files spin-off series "The Lone Gunmen", one that rather spookily makes a connection between the characters that made the show so quirky, and events on 9/11 that changed the way we (and the TV executives) see the world fundamentally...

The Lone Gunmen TV Show Predicts 9/11 + War on Terror (4 mins)

On Georgia and Kosovo

Yesterday afternoon, Russian President Dmitry Medvedev announced that his country had officially recognised the independence of the Georgian separatist states in Abkhazia and South Ossetia. This decision followed passionate speeches in the Russian Duma over the previous week by representatives of both regions. One of the common features of these announcements has been the comparison between the Georgian regions and Kosovo, a region of Serbia recently declared independent to the approval of the West. However, whilst there are certain comparisons that can be drawn between the two regions (peripherality, federalism and ethnic difference), there is little common moral equivalence ...

It is interesting to note that the nationalisms in Abkhazia and South Ossetia were so low down the interests of Moscow that the regions micro-nationalisms were ignored during the Soviet era, whilst Georgia was a constituent member of the USSR. This suggests a certain element of strategic brokering in an attempt to negate the independence of Georgia, but also represents a warning to states with large pro-Russian populations within their recognised borders. Kosovo itself was never manipulated by another state directly in an attempt to promote the division or annexation of territory. Kosovan nationalism exerted itself largely through non-violent political resistance. Violence only began following the NATO response to recognised ethnic cleansing and mass deportation conducted by Serbian troops in the region. Whilst there was violence in the Caucasus, it cannot be said to have been on a par with the actions of Slobodan Milosevic.

I have also yet to see any sort of UN Resolution proposed by the Russian representatives that justifies the invasion of a sovereign state (and ex-colony) against the wishes of that state and the international community. The word "unilateral" comes to mind. Where was the equivalent of the Resolution 1441, warning Saddam Hussain of the consequences of belligerence, in this case? I also worry that the independence of these states will not result in their becoming "nations" at the high table of diplomacy. The former republics of Yugoslavia now have seats at the UN (alongside Georgia) and 20 of the 27 EU states have recognised the de jure and de facto independence of Kosovo and its 2.1 million people. Realistically, Russian sponsorship of these tiny enclaves is not an attempt at independence, but an attempt at re-integration into a new Russian empire. No-one has suggested that Kosovo should be annexed by neighbouring Albania, nor have they proposed the unilateral presence of Albanian troops on Kosovar soil.

The ethnicity element of the two conflicts is also one primary source of difference. Where the West has attempted to promote the independence of Kosovo through the integration and assimilation of multiple ethnic groups, Russian activities in the Caucasus represent nation-building by appeal to sectarianism and violent nationalisms. This threat of violence also looms elsewhere as a result of Russian foreign policy. This month, Russian has threatened to attack both Poland and Ukraine in response to their decisions to host a US missile defence shield and also refused to endorse economic and political sanctions against the Mugabe regime in Zimbabwe. If Russian diplomacy is concerned with the "encirclement" of their state, one wonders how Kosovo and Zimbabwe are part of this breaking out.

I don't want to avoid criticism of the West by the way. The Bush administration is guilty of giving the impression of US support to Georgia, before refusing to act at the decisive moment. This is all to reminiscent of Bill Clinton's support for the Bosnians in the face of Serbian aggression, before letting them get slaughtered ... an error repeated in Kosovo. It would be nice to think there was a consistent response from Washington, but I would not bet on the idea, which is what President George W. Bush has given the strong impression of doing in the last two weeks. But surely this suggests that there was no imperial ambition involved. Will anyone say the same about Putin's undisguised plan for the forcible restoration of Russian hegemony around his empire's periphery?

Blygt

A Tree of Smoke

The following is stolen from a review of the book by Geoff Dyer in The Guardian (Saturday, October 27, 2007):


Who'd have thought that Denis Johnson had this kind of whopping, mega-ton novel in him? His last, The Name of the World, ran to a mere 120 pages but still managed to sneak on to the shortlist for the biennial Irish Times international fiction prize. What made it so intriguing was that it seemed to be the work of a writer who, at some level, did not know how to write at all - and yet knew exactly what he was doing. Jesus' Son, his best-known book, is even skimpier: a collection of stories about strung-out losers unfolding in meticulously addled prose overspilling with transcendence, lyricism or just addledness. A writer, then, of distinctly American graininess: a metaphysical illiterate, a junkyard angel.

Needless to say, he is not everybody's cup of tea. After I'd recommended The Name of the World, a literary friend responded with an email contrasting Johnson's self-described "zoo of wild utterances" with Bellow's infinite loquacity. For me, the effect of the comparison was counter-productive: Bellow instantly seemed as old and venerable as George Eliot.

And now we have what is in some ways a Victorian novel: 600 pages, zillions of characters and a plot that offers a key to the variously contested mythologies of American involvement in south-east Asia (Vietnam, principally, but with substantial sections in the Philippines as well). What makes it a distinctly modern key is that, with every turn, the promised revelation is more securely concealed. We are talking CIA here; we are talking, more generally, about a literary mission that invites comparison with Don DeLillo, Robert Stone, Joseph Conrad (especially towards the end) and of course, Graham Greene (one of the characters is undecided whether he is a quiet American or just an ugly one).

However extensively the novel's story is summarised it is going to be sold short. It starts in 1963. "Tree of Smoke" is some kind of CIA project. Skip, an operative of uncertain status but intense dedication, is working for the Colonel (who also happens to be his uncle). Skip has an affair with Kathy, a Seventh-Day Adventist whose aid-worker husband has been kidnapped, possibly killed. Years pass. History - as they used to say of shit - happens. Kurtz-like, the Colonel's methods become increasingly unsound. At the sharp end are the seriously messed-up Houston brothers (who previously saw service in Johnson's first novel, Angels). Trung, a North Vietnamese - who once tried to assassinate the colonel - is being recruited as a double agent, but, at the same time, Trung's assassination is being plotted by the same guy - a German - who killed a priest with a blow pipe in the Philippines, back in 1963. Twenty years later, in Arizona, the Houston brothers . . . Ah, forget it. There may be no smoke without fire but in this case you can't see the wood for the tree of smoke, or something.

People and events loom out of the dense narrative foliage and then disappear. The writing can appear humdrum. Stuck in a quagmire of incantatory banality, the dialogue seems to be contributing nothing except its own capacity to keep on coming. But . . .

Whatever else might be said about my talents as a reader, my ability to quit is undisputed. I can give up on any book - and I never for a moment considered abandoning this one, even when it seemed to be going nowhere. Even though the story had disappeared like a path overrun by vegetation, the novel retained its uniquely slippery kind of traction.

Why? Because, at any moment it was capable of stumbling into the sharpest focus. Some kind of slanted truth seemed always close to hand. Let me give a tiny example and comparison. In one of Alan Hollinghurst's novels we learn that the characters all felt a bit "hectic" from drinking wine at lunch. So much is fixed so exactly with that single perfectly chosen word. Here is Johnson's swilled-out version of the same observation as applied to a sailor on shore leave in Honolulu: "He strolled the waterfront with the beer thudding inside his head." Ditto. Now imagine that casual accuracy about beer "thudding" around your head cropping up throughout the massively distended narrative that is Tree of Smoke. There are hundreds of things like this and you never see them coming. I skipped but always had to go back and read properly from exactly the point where I began skimming.

Central to Johnson's dramatised worldview is the belief that it is the mangled and damaged, the downtrodden, who are best placed to achieve - "withstand" is probably a better verb - enlightenment. It's like an inversion of the idea of the law of the jungle where trees vie with each other to reach for the sky, the light. For Johnson the real revelations are at ground level, amid the degradation of mush and swamp. As such there are moments of extreme ugliness and horror. In 1968 a GI spoons out the eye of a VC prisoner and James Houston yells: "Give it to the motherfucker. Make him holler." Thus encouraged the soldier "grabbed the man's eyeballs hanging by the purple optic nerves and turned the red veiny side so the pupils looked back at the empty sockets and the pulp in the cranium. 'Take a good look at yourself, you piece of shit.'" A little while earlier James had emerged from a firefight in the aftermath of which "every blurred young face he looked at gave him back a message of brotherly love." But then his buddy got wounded and ended up in hospital "like the Frankenstein monster laid out in pieces, wired up for the jolt that would wake him to a monster's confused and tortured finish." The book is a monster in that sense, jolted constantly into life by its own damaged circuitry, a mass of spare parts all held together with a relentlessly deranged sense of purpose and quotations from Artaud and Cioran.

Johnson is all over the place and he is an artist of strange diligence. It is as if his skewed relationship to the sentence - not really knowing what one is and yet knowing exactly what to do with it - operates, here, at the level of structure. Tree of Smoke is as excessive and messy as Moby Dick. Anything further removed from the tucked-up, hospital corners school of British fiction is hard to imagine. It's a big, dirty, unmade bed of a book and, once you settle in you're in no hurry to get out.

The Crimson Shadow

The "Crimson Shadow" trilogy ( The Sword of Bedwyr, Luthien's Gamble and The Dragon King) is written by R.A. Salvatore. These books are a fast, easy read with little complexity like some other fantasy novels. The books are straight adventure. Characters, plot and style are what drive these books through an interesting story.

Luthien Bedwyr is the main character of these books. He starts out an innocent young man from an island part of the kingdom of Eriador. By the end, he has undergone changes, found love and becomes a hero. Along the way he discovers friends and helpers in the halfling Oliver de Burrows, the wizard Brind Amour and the half-elf Siobahn. These characters move a simple, adventurous plot along to a rousing conclusion.

Plotwise, the books are straight foward. In the first book, Luthien becomes the reluctant leader of a revolution. The second book tells the story of the freeing of Eriador. The final book involves the great battle to defeat evil king Greensparrow.

Mr. Salvatore's clean, simple style helps the books considerably. Word choices convey the right images to the reader without being overly descriptive. This style moves the plat along swiftly.

These fantasy books don't have a lot of depth, but are good if you're looking for entertainment. A reader can put their brain in idle and enjoy a fun romp through the fantasy world of the Crimson Shadow.

A Radical Jesus

I've just returned from a week on a Scripture Union holiday camp for kids between the ages of 10 and 13. There was the usual evening meeting and small group stuff, but the kids also put on a (very impressive) theatrical version of Roald Dahl's "Revolting Rhymes" in the space of 6 days. It was over this last week that I've had the chance to think over a few thinks regarding my personal faith, and it was fittingly one of the kids that sparked a bit of a brain wave - "what did Jesus look like?". It's a rather simple question, but one with deeper meanings. Yes, he probably wasn't the guy with the film star looks and long flowing robes. But then I thought what did he look like in situ? What was it like to be around him, to experience miracles and the wisest teachings. A group meditation activity got me thinking about this further - "imagine you were there at the Pool of Bethesda...". What did this man that I've given my life to, really ... look like?

So I started at the beginning. Think about Jesus, and what is the first image that pops into your mind? Like most in the West, I went for the tall Caucasian looking guy, with the beard and the long flowing white robe. There are probably a smattering of children around as well. He's teaching, healing and everyone is very supportive and very well kept in appearance. Clean, friendly and loving - a bit like the famous Last Supper portrait by Da Vinci.

It was as I was sitting there in a school chapel just outside Rugby that I realised that its a rather sanitized view of Jesus. Does this view permeate the way that we practice our faith and relationship with God? Would we be prepared to accept that person who loiters at the back of the church, you know the one ... the one with the leather jacket and tattoos, who maybe smells a bit? Do we want to see the dirty or the clean?

The great thing about Jesus is that he did not accept to our sanitized view of the world, and neither did he marginalise those who did not live up to it. He was neither North American or European. He'd have probably had dark skin and black hair (though not mentioned in the Bible either way, I'm assuming that he'd have resembled those people of the day in terms of appearance). We've also sanitized his message. We don't want to see how Jesus' message would have been received at the time. It was as radical then as it is now.

Firstly, Jesus was a Jew. The Jews at the time were waiting for God's chosen saviour, the Messiah, to come and sweep the Jews to salvation in the form of military conquest and success. Not just a spiritual salvation, but a physical release from Roman oppression. There was no revolution with Jesus, but there was salvation. And the best thing of all was that it wasn't just for the Jews but for everyone. In Colossians 3:11 Paul says: “Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all.” To Jesus, there was no difference between male and female, black and white, rich and poor. No longer was there the division between Jew and everyone else. The Samaritans are the perfect example of this segregation ... and of Jesus breaking it down.

Just think about the story of Jesus and the woman at the well (John 4:3-30). Most people when they were travelling through this part of the world avoided Samaria like the plague. So Jesus' journey is quite a radical step in itself. It's on this step of his mission that he meets a woman with no status, who was a mixed-blood Samaritan with a perceived poor moral fibre (5 husbands and now another man at home). She is the perfect incarnation of everything that the Jews reviled, yet here is one of the few examples in which Jesus actually reveals himself directly as Messiah (the other if you're wondering is during the trial with Pilate). Jesus reveals his true identity to a woman that most Jews would never have met, primarily because they went nowhere near her country. This was not a "clean" message that made his contemporaries comfortable. He challenged people and called them on their crap. He did not pull his punches but laid people out when they needed it. At the same time he presented love to all.

Why is it now that we like to hear messages from our preachers that make us feel good and comfortable? Why is it that we often shy away from any type of challenge in our life? The message that Jesus preached was a challenge to the way of thinking at the time. He called people to action, in a way that they had not thought of before.

Rob Bell says in Velvet Elvis:

“The intent then of a rabbi having a yoke wasn’t just to interpret the words correctly; it was to live them out. In the Jewish context, action was always the goal. It still is. (47)”

What action is God calling you to today? Are you ignoring those in your midst that need help because they are outside of your comfort zone? Do you walk by the needy on the street and ignore the need presented right in your face? What radical message do you preach today? If Jesus was on the earth today would he be preaching a message that liberated you or condemned the practices that you are a part of? I think for myself He all to often would be preaching against the life that I live.

Blygt

A Day Out at Royal Birkdale

The Open Championship, the 137th edition of which started today at Royal Birkdale, is golf's supreme test of shot-making, decision-making and intestinal fortitude, but the beauty of the Open Championship is a history rich with facts and stories, some more well-known than others. I was fortunate this morning to be heading to the shores of the Irish Sea, hoping to see some more of those very same memories being made. The weather was appaling up until 1100, at which point that rain and winds eased, leaving only the dark clouds as a reminder to the competitors of what the elements can do for your score.

The Claret Jug was first presented in 1873 to Tom Kidd, even though the first Open was held 13 years earlier at what is now Royal Prestwick in Troon, Scotland. Before the Claret Jug, winners received the Challenge Belt, made of red Moroccan leather with a silver buckle and adorned with emblems some described as "gaudy."

The first 11 Opens were held at Prestwick, with rules at the time allowing anyone who won the championship three consecutive years to keep the belt. That's why when Tom Morris Jr. won his third straight title in 1870 (he won a fourth in 1872), the belt was no longer available to be awarded. Prestwick members, trying to decide what to do for a new trophy, approached the Royal & Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews and the Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers with the idea of sharing the Open and the cost of commissioning a new prize between the three. But a delay in reaching an agreement resulted in no championship being played in 1871.

The clubs eventually agreed that the 1872 winner (Morris) would instead receive a medal and, at the same time, each club would contribute 10 pounds (a little more than $20 Canadian today), toward the cost of a silver claret jug, called the Golf Champion Trophy. The new trophy wasn't ready in time to be awarded in the wake of Morris's fourth Open title. But even though Kidd was the first winner to actually receive the trophy, Morris's name was the first to be engraved on it.

Another interesting British Open story involves Ivor Robson, the silver-haired Scot with the "sing-song" voice who has been the starter on the first tee for every British Open since 1975. Robson, who won't reveal his age, also has been the European Tour's official starter for just as long, but it's at the Open where he has taken on a superhuman persona by being able to go as long as nine hours without sitting, drinking, eating or going to the bathroom as he introduces the players in each group. Robson said the job "requires total and complete concentration" and noted a few years ago that he doesn't drink anything after 7 the night before and between rounds has only a sandwich and a glass of mineral water. He loses about 14 pounds during each Open. Robson played the Scottish pro tour from 1964 to 1974 and, ironically, it was the fear of hearing his own name announced on the first tee at tournaments that forced him to give up competitive golf.

I, for one, felt a pinge of excitement when he read out the names of those approaching the course. I followed Montgomerie, Weekley and Weir through the first 14 holes (before some lunch) - Montgomerie (+3) and Weir (+1) made some good shots, and Weekley (+10) had some flashes of brilliance in his short game in an otherwise forgattable round. I then followed Greg Norman (even) over 10-14, before relaxing at the killer 17th with my thermosflask of coffee. The championship hole was really impressive as well, with the art nouveau clubhouse gleaming a brillian white as the sun struggled to make its presence known towards the end of the day.

Are Knives Really a Problem in the UK?

I've tried to ignore the rather sensationalist reporting of the knife issue over the past couple of weeks. For those that don't know, most of the newspapers have carried cover articles on the recent fatal stabbings of five men in the space of 24 hours, the murder of two French biochemistry students (whose bodies were subsequently set ablaze) and the murder of two school-aged boys. Today there is more news of a stabbing at the "T in the Park" festival in Scotland, and a fatal stabbing at a pub in Bolton. For many it seems to be the scourge of our cities, with a new series of incidents apparently arising every day. But is knife crime really becoming an epidemic? Or does the sense of hysteria surrounding the cases say something about our national culture?

Twenty teenagers have died as the result of violent attacks on the streets of London this year. Some were stabbed, others were attacked with guns, baseball bats and fists. Politicians are claiming that these attacks and those in Bolton and Perth suggest that violent crime is escalating across the UK. But is it really that bad now? A little research points to a past littered with groups such as the 1950s Teddy Boys (armed with flick knives and switchblades), a group that supposedly inspired the ultra-violence of Burgess' "A Clockwork Orange". What of the running battles between the Mods and Rockers in the 1960s, and the football holliganism of the 1970s and 80s. What about the uproar surrounding the murder of the 11-year-old Rhys Jones in Liverpool? He was shot. Once upon a time it was shootings such as this that were seen as the scourge of inner cities, but now it appears as though the blade has replaced the bullet in the headlines.

Knives have been a problem for many years in some cities in the UK. I remember going to Glasgow a few years ago, and during a stay of 48 hours there were three fatal stabbings within the city. Changes in the way in which crime statistics are recorded has helped to put a true figure on the proportion of violent crime that can be atributed to knives. And the surprising conclusion is that the reported incidence of knife crime in Metropolitan London has fallen on the level last year. So knives have been around for years. Why all the hysteria now? I think that there are two main reasons.

Firstly, more people are carrying knives as weapons. Indeed the BBC has been showing footage of a group of black-clad youths brandishing and posing with meat cleavers (rather delicately placed within their tracksuit waistbelt!). When more people carry knives, they are more likely to pull them out when they feel threatened. Violence ensues. According to the British Crime Survey (BCS), overall violent crime has across England and Wales decreased by 41% since a peak in 1995. Knives are used in about 8% of violent incidents, according to the BCS, a level that has largely remained the same during the past decade. These figures do not, however, include figures for under 16s, something that the Home Secretary Jacqui Smith announced would change from this month.

Secondly, and I feel more importantly in explaining this hysteria, is the role played by fear of crime. Recent reports in Liverpool and Manchester have actually concluded that gunshot wounds are the most common form of violence in these areas. According to the BCS, no child in the SE of the country (excluding London) received treatment for stab wounds, a figure that suggests that knife violence remains a predominantly urban problem. Also, media coverage has become more extensive and crimes are being reported in "real-time". A BBC News montage yesterday ran a series of news clips that had been placed together as highlights of the days news. All related to the knife crimes mentioned above, yet interestingly the temporal distribution of these horrible events had been collapsed together. There was no discussion of the individual causes and locations of the events, only another knife crime warning.

Whilst these events are terrible reminders of the power of gangs in certain communities and areas, I fear that the mass hysteria that is currently breaking out is misplaced. I think that we need to get some sort of perspective and understand that these crimes are events that have individual motivations and consequences. To solve the problem of knives (and guns, bats and fists) we need to try and block out these motivations, and hopefully never have to see the consequences again.

Blygt.

21st Birthday!

Hi all!

Friday saw me become an adult! It was a rather relaxing day. Thanks to all for the birthday greetings, cards and presents. You all made an old man feel happy for the day. Slightly strange that I also began to receive all of the information about the MPhil and PhD years on the same day. I think that my 22nd year may be rather eventful.

Blygt.

Memento

Wow! I just watched the film Memento (2000) and I have to say that it is one of the better films that I have seen recently (certainly beats that crude and unfunny Team America). It's the story of a man called Leonard, who is trying to find the man who murdered his wife. Except, he suffers from short-term memory loss and can't remember how he is trying to find him. He is unable to form new memories of events that occurred after the death of his wife. So he can't for example remember why he entered into a restaurant, which room is his at the motel etc. But he can remember how to write.

The amazing thing about this film is Leonard's "system". To deal with everyday tasks he goes about writing down key events, and takes pictures of people that he needs to remember. He goes as far as to have facts that he has learned tattooed to his body. But there are several key rules. Firstly: only trust your own handwriting. Secondly: really important things should be written on the body rather than on napkins. So his body is covered in clues and sayings: "memory is treachery", "consider the source" and "John G raped my wife". These texts are Leonard's world and without the texts, or the pens to write them, he is lost. So when someone wants to manipulate him, all they have to do is take the pens and the memory is obliterated. It is this potential for manipulation that is the fundamental nagging doubt in Leonard's mind, and he has to convince himself that there is a world outside of his brain:

I have to believe in a world outside my own mind. I have to believe that my actions still have meaning, even if I can't remember it. I have to believe that when my eyes are closed the world's still there. Do I believe...?

The film has extra significance for me. It was through a commentary of this film that I came to understand a fundamental concept in the academic world: that of Derrida's "deconstruction" approach to texts. The link between the film and the theory is the central importance of text in communicating our experience of the world. So like Leonard we all need little crib notes to make our way. This was summarised by Derrida in his famous saying: "il n'y a pas de hors-texte" ("there is nothing outside the text").

Jean-Jacques Rousseau famously argued that language 'got in the way' of human attempts to describe the world. It is a lens that stands between us and the world, and is therefore a (admittedly slight) distortion of true experience. Therefore, when language was invented we lost a bit of real nature and instead have to interpret the world. But Derrida differed here. He argued that people read all of the time, but they do not interpret, that is they do not look beyond the text to examine its meanings, but instead see a text as some sort of transparency that we can supposedly see as genuine. Rousseau assumes that Leonard is a freak and that we are normal. Derrida instead sees texts everywhere, none of which are currently recognised as things that require interpretation. If I lift up a cup, this action is mediated by my interpretation of the things as "a cup", with this interpretation informed by context, history, experience - an entire set of presuppositions. It is the all-conquering nature of this idea that I think resonates through the film, and the texts that Leonard needs are therefore only slightly more material versions of the texts that we use everyday.

What a film!

Blygt.

Arrogance is our only flaw...

I have to say that I've actually enjoyed the past couple of days. Coverage of the annual Church of England Synod has been extensive in the media, and coverage of the debate over women bishops proves to be somewhat of an interesting insight for what may occur at the Lambeth Conference (where homosexuality is believed to be the key point of debate). I welcome this opportunity to discuss elements of the church's theology and maintenance in public, and I think that the views expressed from both sides have been very considered and founded in biblical wisdom. But today I was slightly set back by a comment in The Times today in which a 'traditionalist' priest accused the 'liberal' (and therefore automatically pro-women!) group of lacking Christian compassion and gloating over what he saw as a victory for elements that would destroy the Church of England:

"The synod has no legitimacy, and it should be dissolved forthwith, and an emergency steering body should be formed by the moderates on both sides, simply to save the Church from those these people who presume to speak for it"

The real controversy that I see on the ground is not surrounding the ordination of female/gay people within the Church. It is instead a refusal to see others as "real Christians". This is a pet hate of mine, and something that has challenged me fundamentally during my time at university. During a college Christian Union meeting, I was encouraged to pray that a friend would come to know Christ. However, I knew that she was a regular chapel-goer (if not a church-going evangelical!) and a self-confessed follower of Jesus Christ. My attempt to rectify this call for prayer however fell upon deaf ears. She was not "one of us", not a "real Christian". Our decision to dismiss and objectify people that we don't agree with theologically is the real challenge to the church in this country. I say "our decision" as this is something that I too am guilty of at times. We cannot assume that we have and understand "the truth" sufficiently, that we do not need to engage and converse with others. Nick Knisely argues that "conversation that is entered into with the presumption of knowing the final result is not conversation, but attempted conversion".

Over the past couple of years, people have tried to put labels on where I stand in the great Christian spectrum. I'm orthodox in some, liberal in others and borderline heretical at certain points! It was a strange experience being part of several Christian groups whilst at university. The groups differed in praxis and politics, despite sharing a similar doctrinal basis. I think that my rather strange views made it difficult for me to fit in/be accepted entirely by elements in both groups. In truth, this is because I am a moderate with a penchant for building community between groups. I think that we are all in the process of being transformed by God through the Holy Spirit, and as a result I believe that our futures and the ways in which these futures are to be attained should not to be limited by political views, but instead opened up to the Spirit.

For many I appear to be a "lukewarm" Christian, unwilling to really attach my flag to either of the two camps. The wisdom in the Church at the moment is that there are two camps within the Church of England, and that because these groups are deemed to be irreconcilable the only possible solution is the division of the Church - in to two distinct churches, a process that would completely isolate them and therefore avoid any sort of dialogue or cooperation. In other words, the current church happens to be a convenient container of radically distinct groups - a form, rather than a meaning.

I think that this description of the church goes against the many messages of St. Paul (think in particular of the idea of the church as a body made up of many parts, in 1 Corinthians 12). Indeed it is the deep foundation in biblical theology that shaped and allowed the church to grow across the world, reaching all continents and peoples. Yet Christians continue to be mocked and derided for what is seen to be a limited intellectual horizon, and sometimes an ill-defined authoritarianism. This same language is however evident WITHIN the church, reflecting our arrogance and contempt for some of those that we are currently in communion with. This lack of humility within our own internal dialogue results from our continued belief that we have no need for those with whom we do not agree.

This arrogance I fear is the deeper cause of any spiritual split within the Church of England. I am also guilty of it - my own "moderation" partly results from my belief that it is somehow a better place to be, a place from which I can point out and comment on the flaws of the others, without necessarily looking at my own (how many times I have wondered, "why can't they just be sensible?"). Maybe we should stop wondering about how "we" can make "them" see what we want, and maybe we should instead put our eyes and ears to the heavens to listen to what God actually wants of us.

Blygt.

Colonial Rhetoric Diverts Attention from the Real Problems

Since last I wrote on this blog, things have taken a turn for the worse in Zimbabwe. Elections held last week were boycotted by the opposition Movement for Democratic Change (MDC), with their leader Morgan Tsvangirai citing a campaign of violence (inc. murder, rape and torture) and intimidation against his party. Unopposed, President Robert Mugabe won a landslide victory. Scores are internally displaced, others have fled to neighbouring Zambia and South Africa. A once economically prosperous state has become a shell.

One would think that the many Africans who live under oppressive regimes might have seen this moment as an opportunity to rally behind their brothers and sisters in Zimbabwe. The continent, has however, remained eerily silent. Despite movements by the Kenyan prime minister (himself the victim of a stolen election) and the Botswanan vice-president to have Zimbabwe expelled from the African Union at its recent meeting in Egypt, the main heavyweights on the continent refused to be drawn. The African Union, and especially South Africa, merely shrugged at what has been called a "Munich Moment" for the continents fight against authoritarianism.

But how can this indifference be explained? It appears that Mugabe and many of his supporters have been brought together through the use of a post-colonial rhetoric. There is no love lost between Mugabe and the West (an adviser recently declared that the West could "go hang a thousand times"), and it appears that some African leaders would rather support an African dictator than be seen to be supporting the Western governments that have rejected his election. Mugabe knows this very well, and he draws upon his past as a leader of the colonial resistance movement, drawing in political support from other nations where his Zimbabwean "war veterans" helped to further the Marxist cause in the 1970s.

It's true that colonialism does have "legacy issues". The poverty, exploitation and structural violence found across the world so obviously highlights this. It was a blight to many nations across the world, and in neo-colonialist wars it continues to be a problem. But I think that there needs to be a moment of change in thinking regarding European colonialism in Africa if leaders like Mugabe are to be silenced. There is a sharp difference of opinion developing across the continent between the old-school revolutionaries who fought in the wars of independence, and a new generation. Unlike the previous generations of politicians, these new leaders see the "sovereignty" argument for what it really is: a legitimating discourse, that references racism and neo-colonialism to deflect attention away from the shortcomings of the political elites and the orgies of violence that usually follow.

When the electorate and leaders are whipped up into a political frenzy around the issue of colonialism, their attention is distracted from the real issues at hand. Why is it that food has become so scarce in a state that was once the bread-basket of South Africa? Why has inflation reached frankly laughable levels? The indignities endured by large sections of the Zimbabwean population, under black rule for more than 30 years, have little to do with Britain. Perhaps this is the moment that the continents leaders examine the real causes of their poverty today. Once freed of this obsession with small islands off the coast of Europe, Zimbabweans and Africans may have a greater opportunity to scrutinize their own leaders.

Jesus comforts his disciples

I was struck today by a passage in John 14:

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my father's house there are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go there and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going" (verses 1-4).

It's clear that the disciples are distressed at the thought of Jesus leaving them. Knowing this, Jesus comforts them. The disciples must learn to trust in him. He knows what he is doing, and where he is going. And in the midst of this re-assuring language we find a promise: that where Christ goes, his disciples will go also. They will not be separated from him, but will instead know the joy of being reunited with him. They - and all the believers - will be the honoured guests of the father.

Ray Vander Laan and Judith Markham note in Echoes of his Presence (Zondervan, 1998) the deep symbolism of this passage. In the first century, a man and a woman went through an elaborate engagement ceremony, in which the woman drank a cup offered by the man as he said some words. They would then leave - the man to build an extension to the family house, and the woman to train in domestic duties. The man kept building until the house met the requirements of his father - in other words he had no idea when he would have fulfilled the element of the wedding contract. The woman would fill a lamp at her window every night, so that when the time came, her lover would know which window to take her from.

The words that were used at the engagement ceremony were those used by Jesus. He used language familiar to all of those gathered, and said that heaven 'is just like that'. When the time comes, there be a giant procession back to his house. That's where the party really starts! That will be where God enters his city, and provides the light for the global embrace that is set to follow for eternity.

Blygt.

The only man another man can love is Jesus...?

I just spent the evening watching Brokeback Mountain. If you haven't heard, it's about two homosexual men. Why, some people will ask, would I bother watching such a story? Why am I not in that part of the church-going population that is demanding an xian version of the story, as parodied above? Well, the answer is that I'm a fan of people. People come in all shapes and sizes - varieties, beliefs and orientations. I have several gay friends - I value their friendships, even if we disagree on certain issues, and they have played important roles in my life. That and I'm not just a fan o' prejudice and hate.

To undertake a review of this film is a monumental task, because feelings about it run so strongly and tempers easily flare. But I suspect that by praising the film for its virtues, I’ll receive wrathful letters from its detractors as well. Art is fulfilling its role when it provokes us to reflection, discussion, and growth. If anyone — Christian, pagan, homosexual, heterosexual — responds with rage and hatred, they make themselves guilty of the very “intolerance” that they probably think I am demonstrating. I assure you, my only “agenda” is to observe the story, what it shows us, what it implies about our lives beyond the cinema, and whether or not it stands up to the test of excellence and truth.

Brokeback Mountain is a film in which all kinds of people engage in all manner of wrongdoing. Yes, there are two men who hastily plunge into an intimate sexual bond, and as a result, their relationship narrows to become an unhealthy sexual obsession rather than a flourishing friendship and love — they become enslaved to their lust, and it disrupts the rest of their lives. But there are also heterosexual people guilty of violent hatred, and heterosexuals who engage in hasty sex soon after meeting. Some commit adultery. One man is violent toward his wife. some utter spiteful, prejudicial slurs. Why would I ignore a film because it portrays one particular variety of sin? As with any story, it is interesting to see whether the choices and consequences mirror the truth, or if they have been skewed by the artist to represent a vision of the world that is false.

When I'm asked about my stance on homosexuality, I always think of that passage in John (7:53-8:11) in which Jesus prevents the stoning of an adulteress by a mob headed by religious leaders of the time. It's that famous quote from Jesus that really strikes home with me: "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her". None of them did. Instead they were convinced of their own sins, their own problems. So there, don't throw stones at gay people! BUT just look at what Jesus says at the end to the woman: "go, and sin no more". Yes, I can preach a message of forgiveness through Christ, but it also involvesrepentance . Because homosexuality has been condemned through the ages, it would be easy to cut gay people some slack. No. Like adultery it is still a sin that should be pointed out. Like Ang Lee, we should see that sin in us all - and it should break our heart for the world of which we are a part.

Blygt.

In the ghetto

The following happened between 1030 and 1200...

A friend and I walked down to the Grafton Centre this morning; a shopping centre just outside of the main town, filled with the usual mix of clothes and gadgets. I'm reminded of home there. You see, there is an unmarked boundary that you cross when you take the 10 minute walk across Christs Pieces to the Grafton. Put simply: you enter the "land of the plebs".

Dave and myself just tend to listen to music as we walk together, we know each other so well now that chat is quite repetitive. Alright, we're anti-social. As we pass Christs College, draped in our college scarves and with our iPods on full volume through our Bose headphones we are at one with the spirit of Cambridge. But then you are aware of it - you are out of place. The collegiate atmosphere is gone, and the accents have changed. No longer are there well-shaped vowels, but the local drawl - "auhs it gahn luvvie, alwight?". There is no pashmina in sight, only the gloss of the latest adidas tracksuit and the glare of a huge earring-cum-bird stand.

We sit in Costa at the foot of the stairs in the main hall of the arcade. The small wall that demarcates the shop seems to be more of a social divide; we can watch the people from the safety of our skinny lattes and musings on French literature, as they do whatever they do. It's almost voyeuristic. At the same time, I feel a sense of belonging here. There is a woman with an amputated arm, several people limp past on crutches and a little girl goes and rocks for free on a Bob the Builder ride. This is the kind of place where people smack their kids in public, wear inappropriately tight jeans and cackle with laughter when one of the girls shares her latest shag story. I'm reminded of home - where the locals are on benefit and worry more about where the next meal will come from than whether they get cinammon or chocolate on their cappuccino. For me, this is not the circus, but the real society of which the colleges and spires of the town centre are only a glitzy and elitist sideshow.

On the way back to the town centre, I spot a black man. And another. And another. There is an Asian face too. And another. And another. I'm reminded of the multi-cultural nature of our society. You wouldn't know that these people existed in the centre of Cambridge - it's the kind of place that Jacqui Smith would love to take an evening stroll in. No blacks/minorities allowed says the architecture. As I walk through this Aryan wonderland, sometimes I wonder if Hitler actually won in the end. But here amongst the people of Graftonland, I'm comfortable and belong.

But as we cross that piece of grass again, we are back in the centre of town. Pictures of Milton stare back at us from display cases, advertising a critical display of his works at the University Library. I'm handed a flyer for a postmodern play that doesn't have a title, or for that matter a script. I'm made aware of the plight of the Palestinians, of Chinese Buddhist thought on karma and asked if I've ever given God a thought. A mother dragging two kids out of a flash boutique glares over her huge sunglasses - "You brought that on yourself. He has every right to kick you when you do things like that". Tough love? Crap parenting more like. Oh, to be back at the Grafton, where the people are real and the air is pure!

A group of Germans passes round the corner, their leader waving an umbrella with the national flag on top, shouting commands at the top of his voice. I'm scared. Maybe the fascists did win after all. In this town, you'd never know.

Suits, not Balaclavas

The following is a copy of an article of mine that recently got published in the comment section of The Cambridge Student. Thanks go to Dan Heap for getting me my print debut. It's not yet made it onto the website, so here it is for your viewing pleasure:

"Save the whales, save the world. That was the message at the heart of one of the crazier Star Trek films. But it seems that director Leonard Nimoy’s message may have been taken up recently by environmental groups in the Antarctic Whale Sanctuary. As activists attempt to prevent further whale killings in the name of Japanese “research”, tales of boarding, kidnap and sabotage have highlighted ideological differences between both Japan and the international community, but more intriguingly between environmental groups.

Japan has been applying strong international pressure to ease the international ban on commercial whaling for several years now. All whale meat in Japan comes from those 500 whales that are killed for “scientific purposes” each year, and this whaling charade appears to be wearing thin. Australia’s new Prime Minister Kevin Rudd put the point bluntly: “This is not scientific whaling - this is commercial whaling”. Japanese consumers are also putting pressure on the industry by moving away from the bland whale meat popular during wartime rationing, in favour of more exotic fish caught nearer to home. The real reasons behind the continued hunting of whales are political rather than scientific. For all of the damage that the whaling industry causes, it provides much needed jobs in coastal communities and provides an opportunity for nationalist politicians to make a stand against increased international pressure on the state.

Against the backdrop of political gamesmanship, two rival groups are continuing to hunt the hunters in the icy waters of the Southern Ocean. The Greenpeace vessel MY Esperanza is on a mission to document the operation, and if possible, occupy the danger-zone between whale and harpoon. This media and commercially savvy operation contrasts strongly with that of the MV Steve Irwin. Representing the California-based Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, a radical group founded by expelled Greenpeace board member Paul Watson, their previous methods have included ramming and sinking whalers. They have been labelled pirates and terrorists; albeit backed by personalities including Mick Jagger, Orlando Bloom and the Dalai Lama.

The two groups represent a growing polarisation within the international environmental community. Two campaigners from Sea Shepherd were recently detained on the main Japanese vessel, having attempted to attach ropes to the main propeller and throwing bottles of acid at crew members. Recent Camps for Climate Change and Plane Stupid protests have also used direct action recently to protest against major carbon emitters who breach targets negotiated with the input of more mainstream groups. Should the flagbearers of ecological awareness be consorting with politicians, oil companies and top executives; or should they be there on the ground, doing whatever it takes to prevent damage and death? Should environmentalists wear suits or balaclavas?

There is a distinct appeal to those donning the latter. Just think about Subcomandante Marcos, the balaclava-clad freedom fighter-cum-poet leader of the Zapatista rebels in Mexico. His writings speak of a desperate campaign to prevent the ecological and political destruction of the Chiapas region. Let us remember, however, that politicians do not negotiate with terrorists; even those that write nice poetry. It might appeal to the sense of mischief of Paul Watson, but flying a version of the skull and crossbones and shooting nails at boats does not help your cause in diplomatic circles. One only need look at the public backlash against the Animal Liberation Front in the UK and USA to see the potential consequence of further acts of violence and “eco-terrorism”. Far from achieving their own aims, groups such as Sea Shepherd risk making martyrs of the whalers themselves; perhaps even encouraging other whaling nations to resume hunting in solidarity with Japan. Their fervour and zeal is admirable, but it blinds them to the fact that consensus is the only viable weapon in the modern environmental and political arenas.

That places a lot of pressure on the suits. Long-established groups have built up large international networks over many years and making high-powered friends and donors in the process. Whilst Greenpeace do not accept donations from governments and companies, concerns over the mainstreaming of the organisation were demonstrated most effectively by the presence of a delegation at the 2002 UN Earth Summit in Johannesburg. However, the rise of more radical groups suggests that these close relationships appear too intimate and must be more discretionary if these groups are to become unifying movements again. The plaudits achieved in the whaling arena must not be translated into a greater number of networking events and social engagements, but instead invested in giving new impetus to leadership on pressing issues such as climate change and the return of the nuclear power agenda.

For all of the discussion surrounding politics, it would be easy to forget the whales. The Japanese recently backed-down over threats to hunt the vulnerable humpback whale, but are still predicting to kill as many as 1,000 mainly minke whales. Their best chance lies not in the destruction of one boat, but in an end to violations of international treaties. Radical voices may raise the alarm and ram the boats, but only mainstream pressure can stop them leaving their home port in the first place."

Blygt.

Grow Fast, Breed Young

A group of scientists from the University of California, Berkeley have discovered that dinosaurs bred as early as age eight, long before they actually became adults in the eyes of their peers. Whilst they were originally descended from reptiles, their breeding patterns are similar to those of modern mammals.

Calcium-rich medullary bone found in the shin bones of fossilised remains of the meat-eating Allosaurus and the plant-eater Tenontosaurus, indicate that these species had the required levels of calcium to produce eggs. Analysis of the leg bones indicates that the age of both samples was between eight and ten years, with most dinosaurs believed to have a life-expectancy near thirty years. This discovery adds further weight to arguments surrounding the reproductive strategy of the dinosaurs. Like modern birds, the environment and the nature of predator-prey relationships indicates that these species needed to maximise the reproductive potential of the individual before the female of the species became prey for another species.

And they say that teenage pregnancy is a problem in the UK... maybe it's just a sophisticated survival strategy!

Blygt.

Why is there so little violence in Africa?

"It is sad to see Kenyans die in the name of democracy". So said a recent post from a Kenyan man on the BBC website. Over the past couple of weeks in this East African nation, held by many to be a prime example of economic and political success and stability, the world has seen a side of Africa (and arguably mankind itself) that many had hoped had been seen for the last time in the killing fields of Rwanda. The hundreds of deaths in this "peaceful" part of the continent necessitate the observer to ask why violence is not more widespread. Why don't people kill/maim/burn/smash in areas of greater poverty and oppression?

Violence is not new to Africa as I have already mentioned. But I would argue, the scale of the violence is far larger than conflict in the pre-colonial era. Colonisation brought with it the rapacious desire to accumulate and exploit (as well as a habit of drawing box-shaped nations on the map), pitching once peaceful neighbours against one another in a battle for favour and favours from the European powers. The Mau Mau and Algerian independence movements began a wave of violence legitimised by the need to end a colonial policy of exploitation. Yet, independence in the Cold War period merely cast African states as new pieces in the great diplomatic game between the USA and USSR. Proxy wars were fought in Angola and Mozambique; the superpowers and their African pawns destabilising any developing sense of freedom and prosperity.

Punishment of the silent civilian population exacted a massive toll on the continent, with armament spending vastly outgrowing that on education and healthcare. The tragic legacy of the Cold War is the emergence of self-financed civil wars; undefeated factions continuing to settle old scores, financed through the control of economic wealth. A very disturbing aspect of these contemporary civil wars is the level of violence against civilian populations, and also the fact that this violence is often carried out by child soldiers. During the fall of Kampala in 1986, the front-line troops that spearheaded the final assault were predominantly children. They are the individuals that man the many barricades seen in urban conflict zones; armed gangs of youths car-jacking and mercenaries in private armies collecting revenue for their wealthy pay-masters.

Harsh economic conditions created by the debt, debt servicing, IMF and World Bank Structural Adjustment Programmes (SAPs), and the withdrawal of state subsidies for health account for millions of additional deaths even in countries where peace prevails. Where is the research to establish the levels of debt- and SAP-related deaths? It's conclusions would only be too close to home (ironically, as are the very factories that pump-out those bullets found in the victims of "African" violence). And finally, in the post-cold war democratisation process violence has been precipitated by the politicisation of ethnicity. Afraid to face free and fair elections, incumbents have promoted politically-motivated "ethnic" clashes. For example, in the run-up to Kenya’s 1992 general elections when multi-partyism became inevitable, ethnic groups which for years lived peacefully alongside each other suddenly began to fight. There is a lot of talk about conflict resolution by groups inside and outside Africa but this type of social intervention has minimal impact. Dealing with all the different emerging facets of violence in Africa requires a deeper understanding of the problems than hurriedly-formed NGOs are capable of.

The sheer level of violence is rather shocking I think you'll agree. But let me ask you this: where are the riots in one-party Chad? Or against the absolute monarchy of Swaziland? Against large-scale corruption in Niger? I'd argue that the population of Africa should be admired rather than condemned by the international community. With so much hardship to contend with, you wonder how ordinary Africans can survive at all. The levels of pain and suffering that are present in certain parts of the continent would not be permitted in the West, yet despite this they cling on to the hope that change can be brought about through non-violent means. Africa is largely excluded from global trade because of globalisation, and the nation state is extremely weak. But the people are surviving. Africans are not naturally violent as some accounts would have us believe, indeed they show a greater resilience than many of us in the West.

However, we need to make sure that this silence is not interpreted as satisfaction with the process. "Silence" in Kenya appeared to conceal conflict and high levels of poverty behind a veneer of progress and success. Support should be given to that great silent majority of Africans who desire peace and a right to have a say in their country and their future. Let's not wait until there is more conflict and death before we act. Democracy for all of its supposed failings seems like the best choice here. There is a line of thought that says African ethnicity is bound to make government difficult. But only representative governments can represent a people. In favouring strong-men who rule from one powerful tribe, we return to the politics of the past. Let us hope and pray that violence remains low in Africa. The people should find their voice, but it should be on the platform and in the ballot box, rather than the streets and the battlefield.

Blygt.