It isn't often a book moves me to superlatives - but this is certainly one of the best things I've read recently, or in a long time for that matter.  It is " a small story, about: a girl, an accordianist, some fanatical Germans, a Jewish fistfighter and quite a lot of thievery."

Narrated by Death, it is unsentimentally poignant, keenly observed and tantalsingly skillful in its langauge.  Strange, yet mesmerising, metaphors; words, and their power, which I think is at least part of a possible subtext, shine through this story.  For me, anyway, part of the wonder was the elegant form of the langauge, the richness of description and the gentleness of the narration by Death.

Indeed, Death comes out of this story as a vulnerable, gentle being, tasked with an endless unrelenting task of gathering human souls.  If another subtext is to challenge our attitude to Death (or death) I think it's done incredibly.  I've no idea if the author was familiar with the Franciscan inspired hymn 'All creatures of our God and King" but the character echoed these old words...

And now, most kind and gentle death,

Waiting to hush our fading breath,

Now praise him, alleluia!

And leading home the child of God

Along the way our Lord has trod...

(This version: BPW 28)

Defintely well worth reading - almost 'un-put-down-able' and despite being almost 600 pages is actually very easy and quick to read.  Don't skim it though - the richness demands proper reading.  You may need a few hankies for this one, and even if not, a few pauses to draw breath will be wise.

I'd like to say'enjoy', but somehow 'experience' seems better...

...sing Brian Wren's 'Great God, your love has called us here' to the tune 'Sagina' (And can it be) as the church organist at a church in the sticks had us do tonight.  Yes, the metre is the same but it just does not work.  Trust me, it doesn't.

... sing 'I will enter his gates with thanksgiving in my heart' whilst looking for any evidence of gladness in the congregation... unless you want to sing one of the alternatives I recall from the 80's, either "he has made me sad" or "he has made me glad, what a job he had."  I wouldn't mind but they picked it!  (Actually I did manage to get a couple of them to smile, maybe they were thinking likewise?)

... follow directions which include 'go down the hill and along a few country lanes' in an area where the land lies low and is surrounded by steams and brooks, to say nothing of foot deep ford, on a night when it is cold and there is patchy fog.  Boy was I glad to see the M69!

(But at least it made you laugh)

... why, if honey cannot spoil there is a best before date on the jar?

And why, after all these years, shoe manufacturers haven't worked out a better design for their boxes so that they are easier to wrap in jolly Christmas paper and fill with gifts to send to Blytheswood/Operation Christmas Child or whoever?  Rather than toys concealed in the insole of the shoe or such like, perhaps they could pre-print the boxes with robins or holly?!  I know you don't have to wrapthe boxes - but have you ever seen one that wasn't?  If anyone from Clark's or the like is reading... ;-)

Kez posts helpfully on the possible Baptist Apology for our part in the slave trade - intuitively a 'no brainer' she realsies it is never that simple. 

In a totally different direction, on Friday I was helping out at the kids' club.  Without going into whys and wherefores (I have clear views on these!) the behaviour of the children was so bad that one of the regular leaders walked out - as well I was there really.  The children were asked to consider their actions and to apologise.  The words tripped easily from their tongues but never contacted their hearts or minds; within minutes they were as rude and disobedient as before.

Saying sorry is easy.  Being sorry is not.

Being sorry means being different.  It means endeavouring to put right what can be put right, to learn what needs to be learned and to change what needs to be changed.

It is looking feasible - though it's a threat I've heard so often I no longer take that much notice - that the kids' club will close and re-open with a new group of children.  If that's so, I hope that the regular leaders will take time to evalaute what they need to do differently so that this situation doens't simply recur in a year or so.  I also hope that, if it happens, the children will begin to realise that 'sorry' is as 'sorry' does and that actions do have consequences.

On slavery, past and present, it isn't so easy to comment, since I don't know all the arguments being considered.  Intuitively it is a no brainer - but the outworking of repentance is far from trivial.  It will be interesting to see what actually happnes when the calendar rolls on into 2008 and a new topic fills our headlines...

This morning I finished reading Underwood's A History of the English Baptists.  Whether I have actually gleaned what I need for my research questions is debateable, but I have managed to get a glimpse of this man - but to actually find any biographical information has proved far more tricky.

Here's what I've managed to unearth...

Alfred Clair Underwood was born in 1885 and died April 1948.  He was married and had a son, Donald, who predeceased him by a short time whilst working for the Colonial Sevice in Nigeria.

Underwood had a BD from London and an MA from Oxford and in 1919 began a course for a Diploma in Anthroplogy through Mansfield College, Oxford; it is unclear whether he completed this course.  His Baptist training was via the Midland College in Nottingham. 

From 1911 to 1920 he was professor of Church History at Serampore College, India.  During this time he seems to have published a book on "Shintoism, India and religious Matters"  (http://history.prm.ox.ac.uk/students.php) he published something called Conversion: Christian and Non-Christian.  A Comparative Psycholoical Study, New York, MacMillan 1925 (review of this by Archibald Baker in Journal of Religion Vol 5 No 5 Sept 1925, pp 551-553, via JSTOR). (This paragraph corrected 4/11/2007; Underwood was the 'John Clifford Professor' rather than Clifford his co-author as originally stated.  duh!)

On his personality and style, Peter Shepherd, The Making of a Northern Baptist College, observes that he 'belonged to an age ill-equipped to cope with the realities of a modern world torn apart by war' (p189) that his 'lecturing style was formal, and he was remembered for his aloof style of leadership' (p 201).  'Morning prayers were led by Underwood, and were accompanied by a formal shaking of hands by tutors and students.' (p 202).  At the time of his death '[h]e had devoted the whole of his life to training ministers, first at Serampore... and then at Rawdon.'

Glimpses of his wider Baptist involvement can be gleaned from Ian Randall's English Baptists of the Twentieth Century.  He was involved in the Faith and Order movement, speaking strongly on issues of identity and unity.  His own writing shows evidence of strong views on ecumenism - for good and ill.  Randall notes that in 1937, Underwood wrote to the Baptist Times on the topic of religious decline of 'ambitious mothers who decided a "dissenting Bethel" would not help their chidlren's social advancement.'  (p 201).  This may explain in part why Underwood's History is so rich in potted biographies of successful Baptist men, especially lay men.

"Underwood demanded academic rigour," asserts Randall, in his retelling of an incident of a probationer minister who refused to read the books suggested by his college principal.  Yet, it sometimes seems to me that he fought shy of going where his argument led (something I used to be accused of as an undergraduate), wishing to maintain some sort of peace, or perhaps to maintain his own beliefs (notably on the links to Anabaptists and on the 'victory' of Particular Baptists).

Now that I've read the book, one thing that strikes me is the graciousness with which he handles the stories of those with whom he disagrees, and his ability to see the good in those he writes about.  He might have been a rather austere academic, but I wonder if there was a gentle edge to all of this, a grace and maybe humility shaped by his own experiences?  I wonder if having been in India during WWI, he had somehow been out of touch with feelings 'back home'?  I wonder how, spending WWII writing history, his college temporarily closed, shaped him?  I wonder if, as Shepherd hints (p 202), he died of a broken heart? 

I'm not sure I've found what I was looking for, but I have discovered richness hidden in a dusty blue book I picked up in a second hand shop for £8.50.

Perhaps Underwood should get the last word...

"[Baptists'] history also reveals their capacity to fuse the different strains in their heritage with a minimum of loss.  It also shows how lessons were learned, and tensions resolved in a higher unity.' (p 271).

I think he's more than a tad optimistic - his final few paragraphs are incredibly upbeat - but if he's right, even in part, my thesis is a step closer to reality...

A C Underwood doesn't feature in pictures of the 'great and good', and I still haven't found a photo of him, but he strikes me as a man of integrity and determination, committed to Christ, committed to the cause of the Baptist movement, whose contribution is valuable today in a world far beyond anything he might have imagined.