Jeeves and Wooster

I finished a great book the other day - 'Carry on, Jeeves' by P.G. Wodehouse. The basic premise (if you have never come across Jeeves and Wooster) is that you follow the life of a man named Bertie Wooster who is a young aristocrat living in the inter-war period (I think late 1920s) and the ridiculous situations he finds himself in. Jeeves is his butler/servant, ever faithful and frequently to the rescue with his superior wisdom and skills. Its silly stuff, lots of ridiculous language (posh 1920s English), crazy situations and I love it. It frequently had me lauging out-loud and I devoured all the stories - this book is a collection of various calamities - very quickly indeed.

You may be more familiar with the television adaptation made of Wooster and Jeeves in the 1990s staring Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry (see picture and link below). This is actually how I came to read this book and if you like this, then you shall like Mr Wodehouse's original. Very funny indeed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRT9QU-Q7K8&feature=related

Historical Fiction

I recently finished reading a book entitled 'The Black Death: The Intimate Story of a Village in Crisis', which I realise does not sound like the most cheerful, nor the most riveting book ever published. And it isn't! Being about the medieval plague it lives up to expectations of a time of great fear, anxiety, pain, misery and death.

However, one of the main reasons I picked this book up is in light of what the author (A chap called John Hatcher) was trying to achieve with it. In essence he has to taken historical knowledge and academic scholarship and spun that into a fictional exposition of a real Suffolk village called Walsham. I find this interesting essentially as its an attempt to help turn the often bland, dry, seemingly irrelevant history of academia into a more readily enjoyable format. So, how did he do?

Well, i'll start with that blend of history and fiction. Historians are good writers, simply because to be a historian requires considerable levels of writing and reading. When you are churning out essays, journal articles and theses, a ability to write well is an inevitable by-product. However, being a good writer does not necessarily translate into being a good fiction writer, and I think this shows in 'The Black Death'. I don't mean this in an over-critical sense as I am by no means a good writer of fiction (and at the moment don't seem to have the general organisation to write history). Still, Hatcher's book is exceptionally dry as far as story telling goes. The characters of the village have no personality, no quirks, no flair (perhaps not unsurprising given they are living out their historically fictional lives in the midst of a mini-apocalypse), rather seeming to fulfill the sole purpose of being case studies for the historical examples we have of the time period. Thus it is that this book becomes a poor fictional novel.

Unfortunately, in pursuing the fictional element this book also falls down in the historical sense. One of the central problems is that the book is telling the story of a single village. The premise is good, not least as its based on a number of remarkable sources from the period of the Black Death about the village of Walsham. Thus the names of the villagers, and to an extent the narrative of the Black Death in the village, are real. However, that information only goes so far, and thus the author must fill in the gaps by taking other sources of information from the same time period. This is not an unusual practice in studying history. Generally information on a certain period or event is so scant that it is a necessity to take multiple sources and try and produce a generalisation. However, most of the time a good historian will make that plain - ie, this is a story about 'people A' in 'place A' but to tell that story i've used information from 'place D' and 'people C' and thus the final conclusion is mere supposition.

In the case of 'The Black Death' though, it becomes hard to do that (in his defence, I do think John Hatcher attempts to explain the diverse nature of his source material and the problems of that diversity) not least because the narrative of the village places extra emphasis on this being a real story, or real people. Yet, it clearly isn't a real account of what happened and is based upon accounts from all over Britain and Europe. Thus the dividing line of fiction and reality becomes blurred and the real history and its original context is utterly lost. We really don't know how people in Walsham or many English villages responded and reacted to the Black Death, but this book portrays the slim evidence as a compelling account of the truth, confused by the fact that the names and dates in that place are real. What you end up with then is a dry and quite boring novel and a compromised history book.

I do admire Hatcher's attempt though. I think he tried to do something that is very difficult to achieve and his result is perhaps an inevitable consequence of trying to balance out reader interest with good scholarship. And, given that one of the main issues in history at the moment seems to be that of helping people to see why on earth the subject is relevant at all to society, its good that people are trying to break from the mold of dry, dull history textbooks.

As for the history in the book, well the Black Death is a very bleak topic in history. Death, misery, pain all feature highly, and I didn't necessarily enjoy the book for that reason. It is remarkable, and terrifying, to even consider the events and times that the people of medieval Europe and Asia lived through. Knowing that this wave of death was sweeping towards you, striking every class and creed must have been terrifying. When it did arrive, within months half of your village, your community and friends, family, where all gone. The social change was exceptional, the sorrow staggering.

One of the more difficult things for me to read in the book was that of the issue of faith. Faced with a bold and striking understanding of their own mortality and the shortness of life, people were consumed with a desire to know and love God, to seek salvation and redemption. In a way that (if true) is heartbraking though, many (misled by the Church and society) sought that salvation in the Virgin Mary, not Christ. Others where consumed with the reality that they would only be saved if they had sufficient money or if they were buried with the right form of service, only to find that failed harvests (because of a lack of labourers owing to those who had already died) and a total breakdown in regular society meant that people neither had the money, nor the people to help perform said services. Thus the means to salvation that was being taught failed, and despair consumed those hungry to know God.

Its hard to know what the reality was for many people seeking God in the middle ages, and especially in the Black Death, predominantly because source material is so limited and examples can't be assumed to be accurate, but if there is any truth in those tales at all its so sad to think of all those people hungry for faith and being misled.

I am thankful that my salvation is guaranteed because I have a living and real faith in Christ, not dependant on works or acts of ceremony, but by grace alone. Awesome.

As for the book, then its ok. Not bad certainly, but not great.

The Anglo-Saxons

I've just finished a three month long trawl through a book entitled 'A Brief History of the Anglo-Saxons'. Sounds thrilling, I know. However, as much as the 300+ pages of Anglo-Saxon history were frequently filled with sufficiently obscure names, events and other material that proved to be a curious mixture of the dull and the overwhelming, for the most part I really enjoyed the journey through England's (and by result of later events many other nations) past.

For one the Anglo-Saxon period of English history was one of remarkable fluidity. The initial kingdoms that sprang up after native Britons were defeated/fled/crushed (delete as appropriate) led to a very different nation than the one we know today. For many years power rested between two kingdoms centred on the Midlands - Mercia - and Northumberland/York - known as Deiria and Bernecia for a while before being unified as Northumbria - and the rulers of these kingdoms vied for power and lordship over the smaller Anglo-Saxon kingdoms (essentially the areas that now make up the Home Counties). In doing so they frequently came into conflict with or tried to make alliances with powerful Welsh rulers.

There was a great deal of spiritual vibrancy too. This was an age in which there was a great fight for the spiritual heart of England, with missionaries and churches springing up all over. This eventually led to England being regarded as the great centre of learning in Early Medieval Europe and a hotbed of missionary activity to the Continent. Thus English missionaries and scholars travelled across Europe and influenced some of the great rulers of the time, including Charlemagne or 'Charles the Great.'

What I found most interesting and perhaps most startling (thinking in terms of much we take for granted the continued security and prosperity of our own nation) is the way in which Anglo-Saxon England seemed to recurringly reach a stage of financial prosperity, great learning and literacy, military power, political stablity, only for it all to be quite literally annhilated. The first such occurance saw centuries old kingdoms wiped off the map by Viking raiders to the point that the last remaining vestige of English power was the then King of Wessex, a man named Alfred, who was forced into hiding with a few supporters on a tiny island. Largely through the efforts of Alfred (who I shall come back to very shortly) the Anglo-Saxon culture and political establishment was to be revived, but only after virtually everything that people took as granted had been destroyed.

Alfred, known to us now as Alfred the Great, is a particularly interesting figure (at least to me) as he came from nothing short of a hopeless postion (trapped on an island he visited as a child, few supporters, massive and overwhelmingly successful Scandanavian armies controlling the entire realm of the English) to paving the way for a revitalised and ultimately far reaching Anglo-Saxon culture. Not only did he defeat the Viking armies, he retook and paved the way for the re-establishment of English rule over Danish settlements in Britain. He also greatly revived English literature and used the vernacular as a means to which legal business was carried out. Theres a great deal else about Alfred that really does boggle the mind, however you'll have to bare with me as I leave that out - mostly as I read it in February and have forgotten some of the more important details!

One crucial part of Alfred's reign that I can remember is that he, seemingly more than any other Anglo-Saxon king before or since, emphasised the importance of reading and writing (both in English and Latin) principally as a means for his people to grow in their understanding of the Bible. That understanding of God's word was the overiding priority, and according to Alfred the underlying success of his rule. Ignorance of the Bible was likewise seen as the principle downfall of those Anglo-Saxon kingdoms that had preceeded. Fascinating.

After Alfred there followed a long peace, great prosperity, and a complete lack of Viking activity (which if understood in terms of what had preceeded was nothing short of remarkable). However around about a hundred years later a curious mix of complacency (We see the arrival of a king named Ethelred the Unready, which clearly states how his people percieved him), political infighting and politicians more concerned with their own position than with that of the country (nice to see nothing changes!), coincided with renewed Viking activity. Unlike Alfred (who built fortified towns and raised small armies to fight the Vikings regionally), Ethelred decided the only way to stop the Viking war parties was to buy them off with increasingly large sums of money. Unfortunately for Ethelred this strategy didnt work, and, with a timely piece of greed-based treachery by one of the most powerful nobles in the country, a Viking named Swein Forkbeard eventually gained control of England, largely unopposed.

What followed was rampant destruction of all that people held dear - once more, this being the second such occasion - and political and dynastic confusion that would eventually lead to 1066 and the arrival of William the Conquerer and the end of 400 years of Anglo-Saxon England.

However, intriguingly it wasn't quite the end, as many of the legal, linguistic, and even monetary reforms of the Anglo-Saxons outlived the Normans and many others and are still in place in the UK and in many other nations.

If you are still reading then this was an interesting book, stacked full of facts and events and from a Christian perspective both interesting and slightly frustrating. Partly it was encouraging to see a people that clearly saw God in everything. Frustratingly the author, whilst not denying the Saxon belief in God, explained it away as being a practice carried out by a people a millenium away. Whilst not entirely wrong - since he was after all talking about people living a 1000 years ago - it was something of a bizarre statement since as a nation we only really stopped seeing God in all things in the twentieth century. With that in mind - that we as a country abandoned God less than a hundred years ago - it seems presumptious and perhaps foolish to see us as being reasoned and wise when Anglo-Saxon kingdoms that seemed more assured than our own (and were much more long-lasting than the post-Christian nation we currently live in) were utterly and totally undone almost overnight.

As we approach a major election in the UK, it was also a little too close to home to read of a nation preoccupied with wealth and filled with duplicitous, self serving politicians, only to then read that that same nation was completely unprepared and unable to prevent a conquest that led to well over 70 years of ensuing turmoil.

However, ending on a lighter note if you like Lord of the Rings then it may interest you to know that Tolkein (who was a bit of an Anglo-Saxon geek) based the Rohan kingdom on the Mercian kingdom which itself was centred on Tamworth, which basically means they were from the black country.

Taste and See

A bit of a different book review than the quite heavy history ones that have preceeded this post. When I was last in America I picked up a book of devotionals by John Piper entitled Taste and See. I bought it really hoping to find something gritty and thought provoking in a Biblical sense, but something that was also relatively accessible and easy to read. Not to dismiss reading more substantial works (I actually have one of John Piper's more substantial works sat on my bookshelf - Future Grace), but I recognise freely that I will easily excuse reading a more weighty tomb because it trully takes investment in terms of time and thought, whereas this book encourages you to take wholesome bite size chunks. In other words if you are pressed for time, this book is a great suppliment to a daily quiet time or for those 15 mins you might have at work (Says the unemployed man!).

Its based upon the Taste and See articles that are also available at www.desiringgod.com , so you can go on there and check out what kind of a book you will be buying, but otherwise I can't recommend it highly enough, not least as it directs you time and again back to the Bible and Christ. I'll probably finish the last of the 140 articles in the next few days and I've already ordered a similar book by Mr Piper. Strongly recommended.

American Creation

Another year, another book review. American Creation is a relatively short attempt to examine some of the defining events that led to the establishment of what came to be the United States, running from the Declaration of Independence in 1776 to the Louisiana Purchase in 1803. By-and-large it contains some fascinating (and sad) insights into early attempts to limit the effect of European settlement on the Native American population (in essence the government worked hard to stop it, and were completely unable to do so once people simply - and quite innocently it seems - moved beyond the designated border of the new United States), as well as topics such as the Lousianna Purchase.

American Creation also touches upon that seemingly recurring theme of good and bad governance, the good camp being led by George Washington and John Adams who, flawed as they were, believed firmly that the priority in any situation or decsion that needed to be made was one that was right for the country, not what was the most popular. The 'bad' camp is dominated by Thomas Jefferson (and i'm sure many others who I have yet to encounter in the historical narrative) and his ability to consistently see which way the wind is blowing in terms of popular opinion and match it perfectly. Thus even if it was clearly the wrong thing to do, Jefferson was there in support, right up until it was clear for all to see that it was not the right thing to do, at which point Jefferson denied all knowledge!

In developing the narrative the book takes a very pleasant and mostly informative journey through the early years of American history that is far removed from a stuffy text book. It is the product of a man named Joseph Ellis, a Pulizter winning author and a historian who achieves the next to impossible task of pushing a history book to the top of the best seller lists in the United States, and is also a historian who's style I greatly admire. Indeed, if you take a look back on this blog to 2009 you will find a positively glowing review for one of his earlier books, Founding Brothers.

However, on this occasion I'll end this very short review with cautioned criticism. On the one hand are a few personal niggles. Ellis has an uncanny nack for identifying the clear differences between good and bad governance on behalf of those men (and it is largely men at the beginning of American history) he chooses to place his focus upon. So he looks at Washington and Adams and sees and acknowledges that by and large they made the best decision at the time even though it cost them in terms of their personal reputation or the success of their governments endeavours. He even concedes a certain admiration for them. And yet he also continues to pay a near devotional hommage to Thomas Jefferson (and others such as James Madison - if you are confused then wikipedia can fill in the blanks!) for his ability to play a duplicitous hand, and is exceptionally eager to forgive Jefferson et al's folly so as to praise them for their forsighted creation of our modern world.

This is of course personal criticism on my behalf (the more I read on the period of the American Revolution the more I find myself drawn to John Adams for instance, and inevitable the formation of an Adams perspective on things forms), but I also find it supremely depressing since that opportunistic, change with a whim kind of politics seems disasterous to society and here is a historian that has a vast readership recognising the folly and then joyfully patting the fools on the back.

American Creation also seems a little troubling from the perspective of the historical evidence - at least, how that evidence was presented and used. I cannot speak for the whole book as I simply do not have the time, the resources (or perhaps the inclination!) to check each and every reference used and stated, but on at least two occurances Ellis made a statement or quoted material that was already familiar to me, and on both occurances something seemed wrong.

The first related to a letter George Washington wrote to a friend giving an insight into how he interpreted the American success in winning the War of Independence. Among other reasons, Washington clearly stated that he saw 'Providence' (ie God's hand) in the matter. Joseph Ellis on the other hand clearly believed that God played no role at all. Now that is absolutely fine - this is not about trying to say that everyone must believe God was instrumental in the American Revolution, or in history as a whole. That is a matter of opinion and perspective. However, Ellis portrayed it as basic fact, and based it somewhat in the premise that Washington only saw God's hand in things because he did not see the 'big picture' that hindsight offers. By that he meant a full recognition of all the factors evident in securing American Independence.

The problem with that is essentially two fold. On the one hand Ellis spends a great deal of time elsewhere in the book praising George Washington for his skill, ability and understanding of the wider scheme of things, and explicitly states him as the definative authority on certainly one of the factors in defeating the British that Ellis states Washington must not have known about and was only open to us later in hindsight. In other words, when it came down to the matter of God Washington knew very little about what was going on (in terms of foreign and domestic realites etc etc etc), and at all other times Washington was a master of all he saw in American and beyond. It is a very uneven and unsettling use of the evidence given to firmly push Ellis's own opinion on God and history into the realm of established fact.

The second problem is that no matter what your perspective, historical evidence should always be allowed to stand on its own, presented in such a way as to allow the reader/scholar the opporunity to decided themselves what to make of it. By all means advocate it in the light of a historical argument or discussion and absolutely adorn it with opinion, but make it clear that you are doing that so that the evidence itself can be taken aside and considered. George Washington clearly saw God's hand in what was going on in American history. Whether that makes him a Christian or not is not clear at all. But he did firmly believe that, and whether you or I or anyone else agrees is somewhat irrelevant when presenting that reality. To ignore or simply dismiss it as an unrealistic option is to ignore history itself, and where does that stop?

The second occurance that troubled me again related to Ellis' use of evidence and his willingness to omit if it did not suit. On this occasion it was a recognition of John Adams' uncanny ability to judge the public reaction to the date of American Independence in a letter he sent to his wife Abigail as the Declaration was being signed. So as to demonstrate Adams good judgement Ellis quoted the key passage from the letter, albeit ommitting one sentence. That sentence essentially stated that people should give thanks to God and acknowledge his hand in bringing America to Independence. Now, again this is not about saying that God must be accepted as being a part of the narrative, but Adams clearly believed he should. That Ellis ommitted it was odd not because he cut some text (I have done that plenty of times in essays and my thesis if it was not relevant to the argument), but that he cut that piece of text and left in the remainder of the paragraph even though much of what was left was ittle more relevant than the text about God.

I of course have something of a vested interested in this as I am a Christian and I do believe in God and his sovereignty in the world. Perhaps it was on that basis that I took more notice in what Ellis was saying here. Even so, this is not good history. That I noticed these oddities is troubling because where else has Ellis taken the opportunity to use the evidence poorly or even omit it?

In short be careful when reading Ellis' work (this is especially important since if you live in the States he sells bucket loads of books), and always try to get some good old primary material on a subject if you are reading about history (ie newspapers, diaries etc). I still greatly admire his style and eventually enjoyed the book (it seemed to settle down more towards the end), but this is not the best.

Christmas

Looking back over my blog it would seem that I have created a somewhat unofficial tradition of writing a review of the Christmas period. This year I shall make that an official tradition and continue the reviewing.

This Christmas has been an odd one, if not even a demanding time. In many respects it has been a period of great change (which is remarkably unwelcome when the rest of my life feels like its being subjected to epic levels of change in all areas already), a period of loss, a period of lonliness. All a bit unpleasant really and frankly a dark time overall.

I read a great little devotional by John Piper on New Years Eve which talked about those times in our lives when we are in the midst of a hurricane, stood watching our lives being ripped apart and sent out in all directions at great speed. That is my life at the moment and its heartbreaking, soul destroying, and altogether epic in its misery. More than once this holiday period (Christmas to New Year) I could be found crying out to God in total despair when in the world so many people were celebrating and heralding these generally lovely days of family and friends.

I have no idea what 2010 will hold but I dearly hope and pray it is a year of new growth and rebuilding as opposed to more loss and struggle.

That said, Christmas and New Year was also a great reminder of some amazing blessings in life, and new joys over the Christmas period. Things to give thanks for.

Spinning a yarn...

This is a letter written by a man named Frederick Law Olmsted a landscape architect who is perhaps best known for designing Central Park in New York City. He is writing to his son, Henry, regarding Henry's request for the family dog, Quiz, to be sent to him (he was away from home apparently).

I read this in a book called 'Posterity' by Dorie McCullough Lawson (a great little book incidentally, filled with many interesting letters from well known folk to their kids) and I just love how Olmsted turns what could have been a simple 'No, I won't send the dog to you', into a far more elaborate tale. Marvellous.

Dear Henry,

The cats keep coming into the yard, six of them every day, and Quiz drives them out. If I should send Quiz to you to drive the cows away from your rhubarb he would not be here to drive the cats out of the yard. If six cats should keep coming into the yard every day and not go out, in a week there would be 42 of them and in a month 180 and before you came back next November 1260. Then if there should be 1260 cats in the yard before next November half of them at least would have kittens and if half of them should have 6 kittens apiece, there would be more than 5000 cats and kittens in the yard. There would not be any place for Rosanna to spread the clothes unless she drove them all off the grass plot, and if she did they would have to crowd at the end of the yard nearest the house, and if they did that they woul make a great pile as high as the top of my windows. A pile of 5000 cats and kittens, some of them black ones, in front of my window would make my office so dark I should not be able to write in it. Besides that those underneath, particularly the kittens, would be hurt by those standing on top of them and I expect they would make such a great squalling all the time that I should not be able to sleep, and if I was not able to sleep, I should not be able to work, and if I did not work I should not have any money, and if I had not any money, I could not send any to Plymouth to pay your fare back on the Fall River boat, and I could not pay my fare to go to Plymouth and so you and I would not ever see each other any more. No, Sir. I can't spare Quiz and you will have to watch for the cows and drive them off yourself or you will raise no rhubarb.

Your affectionate father.

The shifting times of blogging..

It seems odd to keep writing this blog. I have no idea if anyone still reads it, though I do broadcast many of the posts for all to see on facebook. What seems stranger though, is that I started this blog as part of a community of blogs.

At first I started at Brittney Lenhoff's(now Strange, though she was strange back then!) urging, along with Danny Temlett and I think a few others. Then more and more people came along. Andy Moll, KC Clark (now Wyse, though again she was quite wise back then too - appropriate names eh?), Sarah Toth (Shank), Angie King (Bryan), Danny Kwon, Kevin Hawley, Ryan Hawkins, Ashley Van Gelderen, Woody etc etc etc. The list could go on and on.

Many of those dropped away over time, but for a long while at least there were a cluster of 'bloggers' that kept up with it all, read each others posts etc. Andy Moll was on one. Kat Scofield another. Sara Treece (now Graham, but still treece!) also kept up with a blog, and infact still does.

Now though, its a dead world for my blog. Its a quiet place devoid of community. I'm sure it seems odd writing about this on my blog (not least if its as dead as I say!) but it occured to me before that just as i've moved out of incredible community in the real world, so my blog has survived through into a point were its probably one of the few still being updated. The parallel struck me I guess!

Painted her letters...

I spent part of this evening down at my great aunt's house looking through a host of papers, documents and other bits and bobs that make up a great treasure trove of history that document part of my family history. I've had a few such evenings of late and each visit produces a few great little surprises.

Tonight came the realisation that Ed (my great aunt) has been living in her current house for 65 years, as confirmed by the orignal property deeds. Her dad (my great grandfather) purchased the house with cash for a grand sum of £400 way back in 1944. The family moved in in June 1944, with World War II raging around them, and Ed has been there ever since. I find that incredible, especially in a world in which there seems so much fluidity of movement.

Other documents that came up were a little more sobering. There was the doctors report on my great uncle Bob (Ed's brother) and his need to have a portion of his leg amputated when he was a young lad, closely followed by a court settlement which awarded him £1000 (this was back in the late 1920s so must have been quite a large sum of money) because of said amputation. I also found receipts for funeral expenses and tax adjustments related to family deaths. In a sense this opened up a little more of a world that I have heard much of in passing (conversations between various family members who knew all these folk) but knew so little of, being born after many of them had passed away.

In the midst of these more official documents I also found two pages of a letter written in old Lancashire dialect which, while interesting in itself, led on to a debate between my Mum and Ed as to who it could belong to, one option being my Nan (who passed away a few years back). Although it was decided she probably didn't write the letter, Ed recalled something that my Nan's work colleagues used to note about her letters - that she 'painted her letters' - meaning I think that they were so well written and phrased that they were more a work of art than communication.

I like that phrase - painting a letter. I know its tremendously arty in its expression but its also quite thought provoking in the sense of inspiring a change in your own letter writing style.

Gladstone and Derby

I've been reading a book about Gladstone and Disraeli recently (both former British Prime Ministers in the Nineteenth Century) and its been eye opening in a variety of ways.

One of those eye openers has been the realisation that for a period of the Nineteenth Century the North West of England was something of a powerhouse of British and, as a result of the British Empire, global politics.

Largely that was the result of two men. One the one hand there was the Earl of Derby, a member of the Stanley family who resided at Knowsley Hall (now best known for its safari park), member of Cabinet for many years, and later held the title British Prime Minster on a number of occasions.

On the other side was William Gladstone, a leading member of both Conservative and Liberal governments who in his later years became MP for South Lancashire, a constituency that held at its centre, Liverpool, Manchester and most of the towns inbetween.

To suggest that they alone held power in the UK would be false - certainly the monarch and establishment was much stronger than it is now, not too mention a House of Commons and Lords that seemed far more capable of reeling in the singluar personalities of the Cabinet - but they did carry a great deal of poltical clout and it was very much rooted in the North West.

Examining that state of affairs from the North West of England in the Twenty First Century is a sobering reminder that all power is fleeting and to think that the current status quo will remain is at best short sighted.

'But its 60 pence?!?!'

I was just in St Helens buying a few odds and ends for various birthdays that are coming up and as part of that I ventured into WH Smith to pick up a card. On going to pay for said card, I realised that the amount of change I was going to recieve was pretty negligable and so before the lady on the till could give me the change I asked her to put it in a little charity box that was there.

What followed was one of those moments when you realise that you've done something that to the other person was unexpected, unprecedented, strange and perhaps even straight out bizarre.

The lady paused for a moment and then with her mouth open and her eyes widening, she fixed me with a stare that already conveyed everything I needed to know. She was no doubt thinking ' you must be mad' or 'strange' or 'a complete weirdo' who spends his money with ease and abandon.' Then she opened her mouth and said with a great deal of vigor and horror:

'But its 60 pence!?!?!'

Somewhat taken aback by this reaction to what seemed like a very small amount of money, I assured her that it was ok, that I knew and understood the implications of what I was doing. Still looking - for the lack of a better word - gobsmacked she very reluctantly agreed to put the money in the charity box at which point I left, contemplating the moment.

I relate this story not to even vaguely suggest that I am something other than a very poor giver(obviously I would hope!) but simply because the lady's reaction to a tiny amount of money really threw me. That it did so was as much because I generally find the staff of WH Smith in St Helens to be warmer and more friendly than many other places. Still, this was also the shop where I tried to take back a book of first class stamps that I had been incorrectly given (which had a value of £5 so it wasn't inconsequential) and was viewed as some kind of looney.

I dunno. I think its sad that they were so surprised about someone choosing to give 60p to charity.

The Linen Belt

I've been reading through the book of Jeremiah over the last few days and I'm astonished at how great it is. I realise I shouldn't be astonished but I am! Even in its sobering narrative of Israel's rejection of God, it contains so much truth that is deeply encouraging and sharpening.

One of the stand out passages for me is the tale of the Linen Belt in Jeremiah 13 (13, v 1-11). Who would have thought a story about a Linen Belt could be so powerful? I certainly didn't and you are probably thinking that I'm a bit mad. But read on and see what you think.

'This is what the Lord said to me: "Go and buy a linen belt and put it round your waist, but do not let it touch water." So I bought a belt, as the Lord directed, and put it around my waist.
Then the word of the Lord came to me a second time: "Take the belt you bought and are wearing around your waist, and go now to Perath and hide it there in a crevice in the rocks." So I went and hid it at Perath, as the Lord told me.
Many days later the Lord said to me, "Go now to Perath and get the belt I told you to hide there." So I went to Perath and dug up the belt and took it from the place where I had hidden it, but now it was ruined and completely useless.
Then the word of the Lord came to me: "This is waht the Lord says. 'In the same way I will ruin the pride of Judah and the great pride of Jerusalem. These wicked people, who refuse to listen to my words, who follow the stubborness of their hearts and go after other gods to serve and worship them, will be like this belt - completely useless! For as a belt is bound round a man's waist, so I bound the whole house of Israel and the whole house of Judah to me,' declares the Lord, 'to be my people for my renown and praise and honour. But they have not listened.'

Maybe you are still confused, but to me this passage spoke deeply of the dangers of leaving go of God's love, guidence and wisdom and seeking to replace it with something other than God. When the belt is wrapped round the man (when Israel, or now the Christian or those who have rejected Christ are seeking God) then it is as it should be. Once the belt is cast off into the ground (thereby Israel, the Church, Man, reject God for something else) it goes to ruin. Sobering stuff.

Space Shuttle

I'm currently weighing up the possibility of going to see one of the last ever Space Shuttle launches next year. I've been interested in space, and the Shuttle in particular, since I was a little kid, wandering down to the library with my Mum and almost always coming back with at least one book on the subject.

That interest persisted right up until I got to sixth form college and then it died out, being replaced by any number of things, from studies to becoming a Christian. However, in the last year or so my interest in the space programme and the shuttle has returned with avengeance. I suspect it has much to do with going to the US and actually seeing, first hand, some of the amazing (and tiny) spacecraft that were involved in the great space project.

Standing looking at and touching some of these space craft is amazing. Craning your neck skywards to examine the top of a full blown rocket gives you a real sense of just how crazy the early astronauts were to sit on top of what was essentially a giant firework. Yet, you don't get the experience of seeing, hearing and experiencing the launch. Even watching it on tv or youtube, its all dulled down by the limits of technology.

With that in mind i'd love to go to Florida next year and actually see the Shuttle lift off. Hear and see it in real life, in real time. I'd like to do it even more because next year marks the end of the Space Shuttle programme. Whatever follows (If something follows - Mr Obama is proving a little illusive on whether America will develop a new manned space programme) could be many, many years in the making, and this seems like one of the last opportunities to go and see something trully unique and spectacular - if you are a geek!

The Great Work of God: Rain

I bought a wonderful little (Actually fairly large but little sounds better) book of devotionals by John Piper when I was in Ohio. I've only read a few thus far, but i've enjoyed reading some insights which link Biblical truth to the practical realities faced in the world today. It is refreshing.

Today's dose was all about rain and God's hand in it. I enjoyed it and I hope you do too!

The Great Work of God: Rain

A Thanksgiving Meditation

Job 5:8-10

But as for me, I would seek God, And I would place my cause before God; Who does great and unsearchable things, Wonders without number. He gives rain on the earth, And sends water on the fields. Job 5:8-10

If you said to someone: "My God does great and unsearchable things; He does wonders without number," and they responded, "Really? Like what?" would you say, "Rain"?

When I read these verses recently I felt like I did when I heard the lyrics to a Sonny and Cher song in 1969: "I'd live for you. I'd die for you. I'd even climb the mountain high for you." Even? I would die for you. I would even climb a high mountain for you? The song was good for a joke. Or a good illustration of bad poetry. Not much else.

But Job is not joking. "God does great and unsearchable things, wonders without number." He gives rain on the earth." In Job's mind, rain really is one of the great, unsearchable wonders that God does. So when I read this a few weeks ago, I resolved not to treat it as meaningless pop musical lyrics. I decided to have a conversation with myself (= meditation).

Is rain a great and unsearchable wonder wrought by God? Picture yourself as a farmer in the Near East, far from any lake or stream. A few wells keep the family and animals supplied with water. But if the crops are to grow and the family is to be fed from month to month, water has to come on the fields from another source. From where?

Well, the sky. The sky? Water will come out of the clear blue sky? Well, not exactly. Water will have to be carried in the sky from the Mediterranean Sea, over several hundred miles and then be poured out from the sky onto the fields. Carried? How much does it weigh? Well, if one inch of rain falls on one square mile of farmland during the night, that would be 27,878,400 cubic feet of water, which is 206,300,160 gallons, which is 1,650,501,280 pounds of water.

That's heavy. So how does it get up in the sky and stay up there if it's so heavy? Well, it gets up there by evaporation. Really? That's a nice word. What's it mean? It means that the water sort of stops being water for a while so it can go up and not down. I see. Then how does it get down? Well, condensation happens. What's that? The water starts becoming water again by gathering around little dust particles between .00001 and .0001 centimeters wide. That's small.

What about the salt? Salt? Yes, the Mediterranean Sea is salt water. That would kill the crops. What about the salt? Well, the salt has to be taken out. Oh. So the sky picks up a billion pounds of water from the sea and takes out the salt and then carries it for three hundred miles and then dumps it on the farm?

Well it doesn't dump it. If it dumped a billion pounds of water on the farm, the wheat would be crushed. So the sky dribbles the billion pounds water down in little drops. And they have to be big enough to fall for one mile or so without evaporating, and small enough to keep from crushing the wheat stalks.

How do all these microscopic specks of water that weigh a billion pounds get heavy enough to fall (if that's the way to ask the question)? Well, it's called coalescence. What's that? It means the specks of water start bumping into each other and join up and get bigger. And when they are big enough, they fall. Just like that? Well, not exactly, because they would just bounce off each other instead of joining up, if there were no electric field present. What? Never mind. Take my word for it.

I think, instead, I will just take Job's word for it. I still don't see why drops ever get to the ground, because if they start falling as soon as they are heavier than air, they would be too small not to evaporate on the way down, but if they wait to come down, what holds them up till they are big enough not to evaporate? Yes, I am sure there is a name for that too. But I am satisfied now that, by any name, this is a great and unsearchable thing that God has done. I think I should be thankful - lots more thankful than I am.

Grateful to God for the wonder of rain,

Pastor John


By John Piper. © Desiring God. Website: desiringGod.org

Mercy Ships

Earlier this year a member of my church gave a brief talk about how she was going to be spending the next 6 months of her life, specifically that of serving on board the Africa Mercy, a hospital ship operated by a Christian charity called Mercy Ships.

I was both deeply impressed and moved by what I saw in that short presentation. I was especially stunned at just what a relatively small number of volunteers and one ship can make to whole nations in Africa. My conviction was also great when I considered the the fact that we in the west can build whole fleets of warships and yet manage to only send one small hospital ship to the coasts of some of the poorest nations on Earth.

Now I don't want to turn this into a rally against the world's navies (I would actually be someone who defends their existence and maintains the importance of a strong naval force), nor do I want to suggest that Mercy Ships is the only organistion in Africa working with these poorer communities. Likewise I am sure Mercy Ships has its faults and carries some 'baggage' into the countries it goes in to help. But I just want to encourage you to take more of an interest in their work, to pray over their work, to even perhaps contribute in some way financially.

This is on my mind this afternoon as I read through the Annual Review of Mercy Ships and consider the words of the Mercy Ships Chairman in the UK on the ships impact on the recently war-torn Liberia:

'When the Africa Mercy sailed out of the port of Monrovia last December, this nation was not the same! A new Hope hadcome! In close collaboration with a new and positive government, the Africa Mercy had played a key role in helping so many.
In those four years, Mercy Ships and her volunteer doctors provided over 4,500 eye operations, over 3,700 reconstructive surgeries and more than 49,000 dental treatments. Added to this, our health care teams provided training in vollages throughout the Country.'

Mercy ships not only provides impressive care in communities in terms of health and education, it also does so with a Christian spiritual awareness. It is a fantastic outreach and demonstration of God's love and service to the poor. So, please consider giving it a few minutes of prayerful attention today. Thanks!

http://www.mercyships.org.uk/

American TV Take 2

I suppose the title of this note should really be American Adverts Take 2. I've been home for a few days now and I'm deeply sadened that I will no longer be able to witness the amazing wonder that are American adverts. For instance I shall not be able to see the miraculous talking dog advert for a Delaware computer shop, which not only looked like it was shot on a cheap hand held video camera, but also finished with the dog flying. Oh, and did I mention it featured great scenes such as the one in which a group of young trendy kids meet the wonder dog and nearly fall over in surprise, speaking one of the all time great lines of television in the process:

'Whoa!!! Its a talking Daaawwwg!'

Inspiring stuff.

Then, keeping the dog theme, you have the advert for dog food which forces you to think about and answer one of the great questions of our time:

'Do you want your dog to be a good pooper, or an optimum pooper?'

A good pooper, or an optimum pooper. Well, I have to admit i've never thought about that but the answer of course is that my dog must be an optimum pooper.

Seriously, how will I live without such high caliber entertainment.

American TV

I've been in the US for a few days now, and though I have done and seen some interesting things, quite a bit of my time has been spent watching television. This is mostly because Steph is working and whilst I could maybe walk to the local supermarket or a few fast food places there isn't really much to do if you don't have a car.

Still, I digress. Watching American television is I think quite unique. I don't mean the programmes themselves. We obviously get quite a lot of them in the UK and by and large they tend to be of a high quality and entertaining/interesting. What makes US TV so different is the adverts. The adverts here are... odd. I realise that in the UK we have a plethora of bizarre and usually dodgy adverts for just about everything, but the American adverts are strange in very different ways.

First of all there are adverts for prescription drugs. That there are adverts for medicine is not strange. Its more the fact that each advert must clearly state the potential hazards of each product. That in itself is a good thing - this drug might do the following to you etc and is therefore probably not a good thing! However, the way this is done still leaves my mind in a state of bafflement even having seen countless numbers of these ads.

The template seems to go like this. Introduce the drug with a 'real' person who has used said drug and the goes on to warn of the consequences to family of not using it, or of the wonderous benefits from using said product. Whilst this is going on there will be people -usually children - playing in the background, the sky is blue, the grass is green and theres a gentle summer breeze wafting through the picture. Then to top it off a gentle piano recital will kick in. All in all a very mellow scene and not that unusal for trying to sell a product.

The strange part comes about a third if the way through. The image and the music stay the same, but a voice over starts listing what seem like hundreds of potential side effects of taking the drug. So it goes 'Digitise may produce headaces, loss of hearing, loss of legs and arms, servere diarrohea, chronic heart disease, mutations such as extra hands and feet, in addition to probable death.' And the crazy thing is thats not much of an exaggeration. The feeling I get at the end is that no-one in their right mind would buy these drugs, and thus why advertise when two thirds of your advert is saying your drug will probably leave you severely afflicted.

The second advertising oddities are perhaps not so much to do with the adverts themselves but more with the sheer range of products available in America, and more specifically products which seem to serve no useful purpose at all. The one that sticks in my mind was for an American Football television package (think Sky Sports) that had the ability to display on the tv who was calling you on the phone (ie caller ID). The advert was professionally made, very slick and was extremely enthusastic about the importance of knowing who was calling you whilst watching American Football in such a way that was displayed on the tv itself. Infact it made it sound as though you couldn't live without such a feature.

Now, if the advert was for the American Football television package and the caller ID thing was just thrown in as an extra then I could understand that. But it wasn't. It was for the caller ID integrated with your tv. I can't for the life of me understand the need for such a thing. Its just.. mind boggling.

I like it though. Its the oddities that make you appreciate America all the more.

Proverbs

During the summer of 2006 I travelled to Germany for a weeks holiday. I went at the request of my parents, perhaps a little reluctantly, but also knowing that I needed a rest. I was reaching burn out in terms of my ability to work consistently hard on my MPhil, had some difficult decisions to make which at the time felt as though they would potentially have dire consequences whichever way I went, and was deeply confused as to what exactly was happening in terms of my relationship with Steph.

Thankfully the holiday turned out to be a wonderful week. We stayed with family friends who treated us with great care and consideration and gave us the opportunity to relax in their home without fear of being a burden or nuissence. Various trips out into the local area allowed for a good combination of magnificent German architecture, home cooked Italian food, as well as a bit of adventure. The two stand out moments for me (And they really do fill me with a sense of relaxation and thankfullness even now) where walking up the Brocken Mountain (which as well as being a huge great lump of a mountain, also marked one of the key locations of the Cold War, the West-East dividing wall running through it, and a Soviet army base - now hotel - occupying the summit), and even more so wandering through the streets of Hanover, only to emerge from the urban area and be confronted by a huge artificial lake surrounded by people relaxing, reading, talking. I instantly felt all the troubles lift and sat contentedly reading, taking photos, talking under the canopy of big old trees. Great stuff!

However, the key aspect of that trip for me was the ability I had in the evening to just sit on my own, free from distractions or obligations, and read Proverbs. Up until that point Proverbs had been something that I knew of rather than knew. I'd come across many references in books and talks, and had even read Bill Hybels book 'Making Life Work' which takes as its centre Proverbs. However I'd never taken a look at the text itself in the Bible. So it was that I was astonished at just how much unrelenting wisdom is contained in that book. It trully is magnificent, and for the next year I made frequent returns to re-examine the various chapters, or as seems to happen, discover new insights and truths that somehow eluded me on the previous viewpoint.

The reason i'm bringing this up now is that once more I feel like i'm exhausted. I realise that might sound ridiculous to those of you in the working world, knowing as you do that i'm unemployed, but it is that unemployment, coupled with other uncertainty and the doubts and difficulties that that can bring to my faith, that have left my mind a bit frazzled. For a while i've been leaving my frazzled nature untouched, in part because its been easier to ignore as my official responsibilities are few and also because I myself am convinced that I have no reason to be exhausted and thus have nothing to sort out! Recently though i've opened up the book of Proverbs once more and been both stunned and humbled at the tidal wave of wisdom that poors out of that simple text. It is magnificent, on its own certainly, but even more so when viewed in the context of the whole Bible as it reaffirms God's magnificence and rightousness. Check it out!

Ranulph Fiennes

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to go and listen to Sir Ranulph Fiennes speak in Liverpool Cathedral. Sat in the oppulence of that magestic building (which is unfortunately not the best place in the world to listen to anything really - the acoustics are attrocious), one of the most facinating people i've ever come across (in the form of the written word) spoke with great wit and impressive detail on some of the incredible aspects of a very full life. It was captivating from start to finish, and packed an awful lot in for just an hours worth of talk time.

If you are thinking 'So what? Who is this random fella?' then let me explain a little bit about who he is. Ranulph Fiennes princiaplly is an explorer. He has completed a series of expeditions over the years, the two most notable being the first (and only) circumnavigation of the earth via the poles and the first unsupported crossing of Antarctica (meaning that in an extremely inhospitable place where you burn in excess of 8000 calories a day they had to carry all their equipment and food with them for a considerable period of time, with no outside assitance). On top of those two expeditions, he has served in the SAS (Albeit briefly), fought for the Oman government against a much superior force, discovered the lost city of the Queen of Sheeba, and after suffering a severe heart attack proceeded to run seven marathons on seven continents in seven days (that was 3 months after the heart attack), and made three attempts to climb Mount Everest (two unsuccessful, one successful). Oh and to 'cure' his severe vertigo, he climbed the North Face of the Eiger - which is essentially a very large sheer cliff that is so large you have to camp on the face itself to complete).

In essence the man is a dude, a true defination of The Machine. If you want to know more detail about his exploits then read his book Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know. However he is a great example of someone who refuses to give up, be beaten, or be daunted by challenges. He explained that to get up Everest he simply adopted the principal that there was no top and that he would rather die higher up than low down. When he was crippled with severe frost bite, he decided to cut off the damaged tissue on his hands in his tool shed with a Black and Dekker blade, rather than wait for surgery in hospital. Insane!

As a matter of trivia he is also related to the actors Ranuph Fiennes and Joseph Fiennes, the former probably best known right now for playing Voldemort in the Harry Potter films.

It was great to go and listen to him speak though. Good stuff!

On corporate re-naming...

I just read a BBC article talking about the Sears Tower being renamed the Willis Tower. Though in a sense it makes sense to name a building after the people who own it (because the Sears tower is named Sears because Sears built and owned it of course!), the article says that there is quite a bit of local opposition to the change in name, with one resident claiming that they'll never call it anything but Sears because thats what it is.

I do understand that. In a sense i'm sure its all blown out of proportion - the world isn't going to stop spinning on its axis etc because the Sears Tower is renamed - but I do appreciate the frustration of corporate re-naming. It happened here in St Helens recently when the hundred-or-so year old rugby league stadium Knowsley Road was named the GPS Recruitment Statium after GPS bought the naming rights.

Whats the problem you may ask? Surely it makes good business sense to package the naming rights for the stadium and fund the team to greater sporting success, or rename the skyscraper and ensure it continues to be used and function as a successful business enterprise. Well, yes i'm sure it does. But once you have an iconic building on your hands you move into that preverbial quicksand that is culture and heritage.

These buildings are symbolic for many people. They are inheritently local. Knowsley Road -the St Helens rugby stadium - was a name that instantly brought identification with something local, something historical, a link to the team's (and the town's) ups and downs for a hundred years. It overflowed with character. GPS Recruitment stadium on the other hand oozes about as much passion and heritage as a Tesco microwave dinner. Its just so unappetising, so dull and meaningless and it seems so bizare to seemingly abandon that heritage for what is a small amount of money.

The Sears Tower is a bit different I guess (its neither as old, nor perhaps has the same affection held over by fans of a team), but it is no doubt synonymous with Chicago. It dominates the skyline (sadly i've never seen it from the ground but flying over it certainly does hold a prominent place in a skyline packed with skyscrapers), and was (perhaps is) heralded as the premiere Chicago landmark. As such people probably take offense to what they might percieve as an outsider coming in and renaming their building.

Also, think of it this way. New York is famed for many skyscrapers, but certainly two of the better known would be the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building. I would imagine that both of those buildings have had many owners over the years, but they have retained their original names. What if these classics of American architecture, with all their history, heritage and art deco styling were suddenly unveiled to the world as the Walmart Plaza and the Gatorade Emporium? Perhaps it wouldn't make you blink and you'ld think 'oh, ok,' or 'cool!' I think though i'd be sad that money and corporate business had muscled in yet again. It would be akin to the Tower of London being renamed Beefeater World or something (I apologise for the lack of imaginative rebrandings but you get the idea!).

I dunno. It just seems a shame.