I happened across this, linked from the social media page of a friend in Manchester!  I hope you enjoy it and find it both comforting and hopeful...

We will meet to give thanks from martyn coe on Vimeo.

How to I move from being 'against racism' at an intellectual and ideological level and become 'anti-racist' in my everyday life?  How do I identify and name the unconscious bias that arises from white privilege?  How might I uncover my blind spots and learn to live a new possible?  How do I avoid saying nothing (which earns me accusations of being complicit) without saying the 'wrong thing' (which will inevitably be called out)?

I have linked up with other Baptists across the UK to work together through the study book show above.  I have read the introductory part of the book - which is clear and accessible, and am looking forward, albeit with healthy trepidation, to working my way through the second part which is a 'work book' of 28 'days'.

This morning, I had quite a long chat with a woman of colour who was at the Black Lives Matter rally in Glasgow.  She was amazed how many people were there because normally she sees so few others.  She thanked me for caring.  She thanked me for wanting to learn. She thanked me for being sorry because I didn't know what to say.

I have much to learn, and I will do my best to learn.

Yesterday, I was invited to add my name to a statement in response to recent events in the USA, which you can read here.

I was subsequently asked if I would record myself reading it, so that the recordings could be edited together.  I agreed - and in due course that will appear online too.

Black Lives Matter - we know that, it's not something new, and it's pretty easy for me to add my name to a statement or to record myself reading it.

Let me tell you about K, a retired bus-driver who came over from Barbados in response to a call for people to take on the roles that white British people wouldn't/couldn't/didn't do.  He made a home for himself, married a white woman and raised beautiful, intelligent daughters.

Time passed, and he was accepted simply as K by those in the church of which he was a member.  A kindly man who offered lifts to others, who grew vegetables in his garden, and who loved watching the West Indies play cricket.

The emergence of the 'British National Party' troubled K, and rightly so, they wanted him and others like him to be thrown out of 'their' country.  So when a BNP councillor was elected for the ward where I lived, and Dibley Baptists served, I had no choice but to speak out - even to a congregation where some that felt 'politics has no place in the pulpit.'

K was terrified, really terrified.  He knew we all loved him, but that wasn't enough.  He feared for his wife, already in a care home.  He feared for his daughters.  He thanked me for that sermon.  And I have never quite forgotten, the look in his eyes.

Black lives matter.  Of course all lives matter, but whether I like it or not, as a white, educated Western European, I can only see and speak from a place of privilege.

I still generally don't do 'politics from the pulpit', at least not if by that we mean justifying a voting preference on notionally theological grounds.  But I do try to preach the truth, that all are made in the image and likeness of God, and are of equal worth.  I guess that's political too.  

I took this photo at around 7 p.m. yesterday.  The Clyde looking absolutely idyllic with near perfect reflections of the surrounding buildings.  What a beautiful city.

Ever since lockdown, I have made a point, whenever I go for my 'permitted exercise', of snapping some photos.  Last night, on the eve of the first significant easing of lockdown in Scotland, 'reflections' seemed like a good theme for my photos, and I was fortunate to get some really lovely ones.

Reflection can also mean 'thinking over', and as I walked, I pondered the changes that have slowly unfolded since March, when the UK-wide lockdown roughly coincided with the spring solstice.  Back then, it was dark when we got up, and when we went to bed, now the days stretch out with, mostly, clear blue skies.  The daffodils were in bloom when I began snapping, and now there are roses.  So often, as we near summer, the leaves on the trees are already looking grubby and tired, but this year they are fresh and green (though the prolonged dry spell is having an impact).

For me, the most significant reflection has been on the choices I have made of what to comment on, and not, what to share, and what conversations to tune out of.  Had I faced 180 degrees in the opposite direction from the photo above, the record would have been very different - people who cannot count to eight, let alone two; people who seemingly don't know that Friday comes after Thursday, people who think 20cm is the same as 2m.  I could have chosen to get annoyed or angry, or I could do as I did - as I do - and concentrate on the things that are lovely, truth-bearing, upbeat, encouraging, energising.

As lockdown eases, across the entire UK, it is possible because most people, everywhere, did as they were asked, at least most of the time. I  would rather choose to focus on that positive than the (totally legitimate and necessary) anger at high profle individuals who perceive themselves as beyond the law.

This is a beautiful city, on a beautiful island, on a beautiful planet... this is, for me, for now, enough.