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A Skinny Fairtrade Latte in the Food Court of Life - Page 802

  • Being Boring...

    I think that's a line from a song by the Pet Shop Boys but my knowledge of all things musical is very limited.  And anyway it's not relevant to what I'm going to write about, just the machinations of my muddled mind.

    At the moment one of my tasks is preparing to submit my reearch work for an MPhil - I decided to 'exit' the doctoral programme on health grounds and assumed, rather naively, that the task to tidy up and submit my work would be minimal, afterall, everything had already been submitted and judged adequate along the way.  Alas, no.  It seems that it has to be re-worked from a portfolio of discrete items into a single contiguous thesis, hardly the work of five minutes.  I think I can find a way to do it that will minimise the level of re-writing - and I'm secretly quite pleased with my idea - but I am waiting conformation that this approach is OK and will not exceed the word count blah blah blah.

    Meantime I started looking at the first of the papers yesterday - it is so B-O-R-I-N-G I cannot believe I wrote such a dull (and frankly not so great) paper.  So today when I did a quick blog review it was a relief to find the person who supervised and mark it posting on boring writing (here), and by a little following of links to discover that he even told other people that academic writing is meant to be boring (here).  So, I will do some overhauling of my ultra-boring paper but clearly it mustn't become jolly or the academy won't like it....

    Today I have other less boring things to think about, but over the next weeks I will be being boring and turning my sow's ear into a pigskin purse fit for the boring eyes of the academy.

     

  • Encouraging Missionary Disciples - Or Driving Out the Young?

    I love it when I get glimpses that the things going through my brain just might be in tune with what the Spirit is saying to the Churches.  I had one of those moments this morning when my Baptist Times hit the door mat - the second week running where I've found helpful connections.

    The front page headline says "Youth need friends not rules" and goes on to report on the BUGB Younger Leaders' Forum (YLF) meeting in sunny Northampton...

    " A diet of 'Bible stories and rules to follow' is not preparing youngsters to deal adequately with the dilemmas of the real world and that's why so many are leaving the church."

    Citing Chris Eddison, from Yorkshire it says 'Many people I spoke to said church had not prepared them for the real world... They needed help in coming to moral choices rather than being told what the answer is.  They'd heard the stories and the rules but felt there was a lack of preparation for their personal faith.'

    The YLF delegates felt that church should be a 'flexible place which accepts everyone for who they are and has a commitment to focusing on Jesus and preparing followers of Jesus.'  This could be a place 'which looks to develop "real" faith in young people which they continually question, apply and grow within' and/or a place which 'belongs within its community and whose community belongs in it.'

    We do well to listen to what these younger people are asking of us...

    • acceptance of them just as they are
    • freedom to question what we say
    • equipping as disciples not instruction as clones
    • authenticity and relevance

    The things that perplex us middle-aged people just aren't issues for so many young people today - and we all know how many young people whose faith seemed certain and left the church, and sadly often also abandoned Jesus, because of the rules we imposed.  I find myself wondering how Jesus might have felt as he listened to these Younger Leaders with their hopes and fears, honesty and struggle.

    And I find myself wondering about our churches - are we encouraging people to be missionary disciples of Jesus or driving them away because they can't or won't be rule-bound Baptists?  Hmm.

    Thank you BT for making me think.

  • Commonwealth Games Reflections

    Having lived with/through the Manchester Commonwealth Games and now living in Glasgow, I feel that somehow the Commonwealth Games connect with who and what I am in some way.

    I lived in a 'rough' part of Manchester, famed for gang-violence, drugs and prostitution, but far from the poorest part of this proud and diverse city.  I saw cynicism and scepticism aplenty, experienced the 'will it be ready on time' anxieties that affect even wealthy nations in times of relative economic stability.  I saw the arterial/corridor road near my home refreshed and bedecked with lovely flowers so that people coming in would not see how scruffy we had become - and to be fair eight years on much of that proved more than mere window dressing.  I saw a warm-hearted industrial city welcome the world and stage an amazing event.  I watched world class sports made accessible by sensible ticket prices (some events were free, most began at £5) and was part of something special.

    The last couple of weeks I've watched a lot of coverage from Delhi - an ideal occupation when energy levels are low and so much more entertaining than average daytime TV.  A lot of the negativity made me cross, arrogant western criticism rather than constructive comment.  All the events happened with minimal hiccups, some tremendous results were achieved by competitors and Delhi did a good job.  I can recall being offered free tickets to see early rounds of boxing in Manchester because almost no one was buying them - near empty stadia are not unknown.  I can recall technical hitches, minor delays and other disruptions along the way.  Memory is short and selective.  Delhi had some great moments, some warm-glow human stories and some quirky and funny moments (did you see the volunteer/official slip from the diving board in the video montage?).  For me, India did a good job in staging this event.  It is a relatively 'young' nation, populous, poor and with many challenges; rather than rude remarks we should  be hoping that when the media circus leaves town the locals do indeed see the promised benefits.

    And so on to Glasgow.  I enjoyed the Scottish arena show, complete with inflatable 'squinty bridge' (I think) 'armadillo' and 'Nessie', the skirl of the pipes and images of the Highlands.  I enjoyed the energy and dynamism of this multi-cutlural, warm industrial city as projected on a world stage.  Of course, back home there is cynicism and scepticism, apathy and ambivalence aplenty.  There is four years to transform areas of wasteland into a stunning event, and there are real people here in Glasgow facing the some of the same challenges as the real people in Delhi.

    At Manchester 2002 my highlight was watching the netball finals - England managed to lose the bronze medal match to Jamaica on that occasion and the Australia/New Zealand final was simply electric.  My longer term 'to do' list now includes watching the final in Glasgow, no longer a taken for granted plan, but a hopeful aspiration - because that is, isn't it, part of what the Commonwealth Games are about - not just elite atheletes showcasing their lottery-funded advantage, but ordinary people aspiring to be part of something amazing.  Of course, if by 2014 Scotland can muster a world class netball team I'll shout for them, but I suspect it'll have to be England... sorry folks.

  • A Smile...

    Unsurprisingly ASBO Jesus makes me smile once more...

     

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  • Lord, you sometimes speak in Chinese Whispers...

    This morning I have been thinking about our service for Bible Sunday, about which I am quite excited.  Partly because we will be using a lot of stuff in languages that are not English and partly because some different languages (from our regular blend!) will be heard: Czech, Welsh and even Japanese are a bit passe for us!  All being well we will have something in Korean and something in one of the Nigerian languages as well as singing in a fairly usual (for us) mix of Latin and Xhosa!

    What struck me this morning as I watched again the Bible Society DVD about work in Tanzania to translate the Bible into one of the tribal languages (can't seem to find it written down but it sounds like kikagooru) was how much Chinese whispers there is between the original Greek/Hebrew and the people who listen for God's voice... A Bible in Swahili (most people's second or third language) and a preacher whose words must be translated.  And the irony that to communicate all this to a UK audience it has to be translated to English.  Yet, despite all the Chinese whispers of it, people hear God's voice, albeit muffled, and respond in faith.  Pretty amazing really!

    It also makes me reflect on such things as the plethora of translations available in English and the unthinking way we often approach reading the versions we like - be they KJV, NIV or any other 'V'  So plenty of ideas to play with ahead of the service - no wonder I'm excited!