Half Time Oranges

And so it finally happens...

I have reached the milestone point in my life where according to the biblical adage (three score years and ten), I've reached halfway on my journey.

That's right... I'm now 35 years of age (although I have no intention of checking out early or on time... I'm far too stubborn).

Nevertheless, now is a good time to stop and take stock of what has gone before and what potentially lies ahead.

Half time oranges... that time when footballers come off the pitch for a dressing down or a pep talk from the Manager.

I'd probably consider the score to be 3-3. I figure I started out badly and lost ground, very quickly going several goals down. However as I said before, I am stubborn, tenacious and I don't give up. I have fought hard to reconcile many of my mistakes and failings. I wouldn't presume to be ahead... but I believe I have settled most of the scores and it's a do over. In the great marathons, the popular ones... many runners start way behind the start line and have to race a fair distance before even starting the race properly. That's what I have done... I have crossed the start line.

There's two ways you can go after that, you can focus on how tiring it's been... getting to where you are; or you can steel yourself for what is ahead, by acknowledging that although the trek has been lengthy... the momentum is with you, and that by the grace of God you can overcome all the hurdles, challenges and pitfalls that remain... and cross the line as the winning man.

There's a song by Show of Hands that really resonates with me, it's about a poor Irishman who bets on a horse in the Cheltenham Gold Cup. It is called The Galway Farmer:

The reason the song resonates with me, is that it's about spotting the signs and putting faith in them... and also that in the song, the fate in the horse kind of mirrors how I feel my life has gone. I've taken a few tumbles but have kept my feet. I'd say I'm now at the point where I've started to jump fences OK and am just finding the rails.

Tennyson's poem "Ulysses" (depending on how you read it), ends on a similar inspirational note:

"that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

And yes, I do note that once again I have returned to the Homeric character of Odysseus (see NiCK'S SANCTUARY: In Search of Ithaca), but it does seem appropriate.

The whistle blows.

It's time to move on, wipe the sweat from the brow and focus not on what has gone before (only calling to mind the lessons learned), and stepping boldly forward to greet whatever giants, or trials await me in the second half... and smite them down on the path to victory:

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air."

1 Corinthians 9:24-26

Doctor Who: The Waters of Mars (Spoilers and Speculation)

Having watched "The Waters of Mars" on Sunday, it's been an interesting couple of days catching up with various people's opinions, theories and tweets about the special Doctor Who episode.

So what did I make of it?

Frankly, I spent the first 20 minutes freaked out by the image of the"water possessed" crew members. I was transported back to the old days of Doctor Who... the days as a child when you spent a great deal of time watching the show from behind a sofa. I must confess that I was quite literally watching those freaky people through my fingers... until I'd "adjusted".

I'm quite a sensitive soul really... when Obi Wan Kenobi died in Star Wars, I was so freaked out I couldn't watch it... I think that must have been the case until I was er... 12.

The story was set on the 21st November 2059... an auspicious date in the calendar for me (God willing, I shall be celebrating my 85th birthday).

It was good to see that Shane from 1980's Neighbours found himself a new job some time in the distant future. Is Doctor Who becoming a refuge for Aussie soap stars in the same way that The Bill has become one for ex British soap stars?

I did feel that the pacing in the first half was off... and it seemed to drag a little. However in the last 20 minutes as the episode reached it's climax, it more than made up for this... it was literally as if a switch had been flipped and the script was running on a burst of nitrous oxide.

It was a very intriguing end and it has left my friends a little divided. Half of them feel that they didn't like it because of the dark way The Doctor was being portrayed. The rest of them (and I am in this camp), thought that it was fantastic.

I think it is important to realise that the Doctor is not a black and white character... he is flawed, just like everybody else. He has a streak of darkness that runs subtly through his valour and nobility. I think some times people are a bit too idealistic and like to sweep that under the carpet.

In his tenth incarnation alone we've seen some pretty intense moments of anger. He nearly blew the head off his daughter's killer... OK so he held fast and described himself as "a man who never would", but you really got the impression from the way David Tennant played that scene (particularly in his eyes), that there was only a thin veil between that pledge and the alternative.

Then lets not forget the way that he dealt with The Family of Blood. He ran away as an act of kindness... but then when cornered he unleashed the fury of a Timelord by forcing his enemies to eternally endure their own personalized Hell. If you look at the way he dealt with them... it's not unlike the way the Greek gods dealt with their enemies.

And that is where the Doctor has ended up at the end of The Waters of Mars... playing the part of God. The concluding scene doesn't show quite the full intensity of the Doctor's emotions (as seen in the few minutes prior to it), but it drives the point home well enough I think:

The Timelord victorious is a created being claiming mastery of the created order. Adelaide Brooke was right in her assertion... it's not right.

It's nor right, not so much for the things that one in that position might do (even a good character like the Doctor), but more for what you'd inevitably become in the process of doing those things.

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

There's a moment when the Doctor realises he's pushed the boat out too far. As he turns, he hears Adelaide's suicidal gunshot (an odd decision for a character to make - was it driven by her sense of needing to restore what she perceived as the natural order of events... or out of spite at the Doctor's arrogance in trying to change them? Or perhaps it was both). He turns once more and senses the presence of Ood Sigma. It is then that he has a sudden flash of remorse for his rash action... even the TARDIS picks up on it as it mournfully tolls the Cloister Bell.

However, it is a Rubicon moment. The Doctor has resolved to cross the line (from the character exposition it seems clear he is quite literally Hell bent on bringing Gallifrey back from the abyss); having stepped into the waters... he knows full well that the die is cast...

... or to borrow a line from another science fiction franchise "the avalanche has already started, it is too late for the pebbles to vote".

Whenever someone rises up to assume the part of God... be that in fiction or fact, they inevitably find that there is a price to pay... and quite often that price is very high indeed.

Here is a brief trailer for the final Tennant double-bill, Doctor Who: The End of Time:

It seems way too obvious that The Master is the would be assassin who will knock four times. Look at who the Doctor is talking to the most in that clip. I think the tenth Doctor's killer is going to come out of left field. I think that Wilfred Mott is going to be put in a terrible position. I think the Doctor is going to go momentarily off the rails (some people have speculated on the influence of the Valeyard) and inadvertently do something that endangers the existence of Earth. I'm hedging my bets that this might have something to do with an attempt to recover Gallifrey (principally because we have Timothy Dalton making an appearance playing yet another Timelord). It does seem as if Russell T Davies is restoring a status quo so that his successor, Stephen Moffat has a clear run to do what he wants with the Whoniverse.

I think the Master is a big bluff. I think that Wilfred Mott with heavy heart and deep regret, his eyes full of tears... is going to be the one to pull the trigger (or whatever the fatal mechanism may be).

Whatever happens, I think that it's going to be epic.

Tune in to BBC 1's Children in Need on Friday to see a further clip of Doctor Who: The End of Time.

Remembering...

It can't (or at least it shouldn't) have escaped your attention that November devotes a reasonable amount of time to acts of remembrance:

There is Bonfire Night:

"Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot..."

Then we have Remembrance Sunday and the armistice; commemorating the sacrifices of those who sacrifice themselves to protect our way of life.

In the United States, there is the festival of Thanksgiving, where time is set aside to recall how the initial English colonists were saved by the kindness of the native tribes from certain death during their first bitter winter in the Americas.

So, naturally with these in mind, particularly Remembrance Sunday, I've been thinking a lot about the importance of remembering things.

More specifically, I've been asking myself which part of remembering is important to us as individuals?

Human beings are sentimental creatures. We paint, we sculpt, we write, we mark, we build and we invent rituals both simplistic and elaborate... all to preserve the memory of things that are important to us.

It's a great strength, but it can just easily be one of our greatest weaknesses.

What do I mean by this?

I will explain but first let me tell you a little story about an oak tree:

It grew local to where I live and was known as the Elephant Oak/Elephant Tree. It took it's name from the unique shape that the roots had formed above ground. It really did look like an elephant. Many generations of children played beneath the bows of that tree, or scaled it's trunk... but eventually, time moved on and the land the tree occupied, was needed to help develop Alcester's new bypass and that the tree would need to be felled.

It was decided that the memory of the tree needed to be preserved and so the local authority decided to remove and varnish a section of trunk... the tree was felled and the trunk segment now sits to this day on top of the bypass bridge nearby to where it once stood.

The reason I told you this story is that the act of preservation is a disgrace to the memory of the tree. If you passed by today, you wouldn't know what the significance of the random wooden object was. It doesn't even look like an elephant anymore... not really. The point I am trying to illustrate is that in seeking to preserve something material of the tree... the very reason the tree was special... has been lost.

This is a microcosm of much larger things.

Earlier in the year, when I travelled to Israel and saw the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, my heart sank... the whole place is encased in shrines and the reason that place is special becomes lost in the regalia (and for that matter, the hysteria). It's quite reassuring that there's a place just down the road that, even if it's claim to historicity is slightly more tenuous, seeks to preserve the memory of what happened in the original Holy Week in a manner that helps people contemplate those events and their relevance both universal and personal.

I was reminded of this several weeks ago when I got caught up in a television debate to do with the celebration of religious festivals being covered on television. The Bishop of Lichfield bless him, argued that Christmas was THE key festival of the year.

I nearly choked on my Shreddies.

As a Christian I believe that Easter is far more important (something I was told once as a boy by Mr Bowen... and knew in my heart was true as soon as I heard it). Christmas is merely the wrapping paper... Easter is the present. Without the need for Easter... there would have been no cause for Christmas. In this instance I can categorically state that the chicken most definitely came before the egg!

You see the danger is, that we can get so caught up in celebrating or remembering an event... that we actually forget what the event commemorates and it becomes meaningless and disrespectful.

In the same debate, a lady vicar spoke of people being disenfranchised with religion.

Do you know something? I thought her choice of words was very interesting and unintentionally ironic.

Why?

Because people do see religion as a franchise... a marketing brand, a spiritual business empire... and they dismiss it without hesitating even for just one moment to dig below the surface and see what is really there.

It's not even with the big festivals either. Sometimes the very way that worship is organised seems to hinder the act of genuine worship itself. We can become so wrapped up in how we do something... that we neglect the God who we worship.

At this time of year, I think a lot about the mantra of the Poppy Appeal:

"Remember the dead, but don't forget the living".

I find that as much as that statement is true about war veterans and serving soldiers, it is equally true about tradition. If we benefit from a certain type of worship, that's great... but we must not forget the living God who inspires us to worship, if it was not for Him... those words and/or tunes would be lifeless and their true meaning lost.

In C.S Lewis' The Last Battle, there is a memorable scene where a group of dwarves are in the presence of Aslan himself... and on the verge of being in the new Narnia... but they sadly are left behind because they are hard hearted... and all that they can see is the inside of a dank stable... and not the wondrous truth that is actually all around them. Being unable to accept the utopian reality presented and freely offered to them, they settle for the dystopian reality they have grown accustomed to.

My heart breaks when I think that the same is true for many today... either through their own unbelief or through a misrepresentation of the Gospel message, there are people in the world today who are settling for the dirty stable when the treasures of heaven are just right in front of them... waiting for their acceptance.

There is gold in them there hills. It's true... I've found it... OK so I've only got a few nuggets... but I'm hungry for more... and the great thing about the treasure to be found in a relationship with God is something that Jesus pointed out:

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. "

Matthew 6:19-21

The treasure God gives is real... it is imperishable and it is not something that can be stolen away from you.

It's not even something that is intangible that awaits us at the end of time. When God pours out his Spirit, the lost are found, the prisoners are set free, the eyes of the blind are opened, the lame walk and the dead are raised.

I believe it.

But I also believe that many of us who proclaim the Gospel are wary of acknowledging it 's most awesome power to transform lives on a very supernatural level because of our own fears and insecurities.

We are scared to step out of the boat for fear that we will sink and be shown up for charlatans.

We are scared to step out of the boat because if we succeed they will think we are nutjobs.

So all too often the temptation is there to provide people with a spiritual crutch rather than the ability to walk in the light of Christ.

... and i believe they are aware of it.

We need to offer people real food, real treasure.... and that requires us to be transformed first.

There is an old story about the Pope and Thomas Aquinas:

As he was showing Thomas as the glories of the Vatican, the Pope remarked: "We cannot say with Peter of old, silver and gold have I none" Thomas replies: "Nor can we say, "Such as I give to thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk."

They were both quoting from the book of Acts. One has to wonder if the two viewpoints are interconnected... after all Jesus did say that we cannot serve two masters. The more we focus on money, the harder it becomes to focus on God.

In the Old Testament book of Malachi, God throws down a challenge to his people who have been holding back on him. He urges them to bring the full amount of their tithing into the Temple. This is what he says:

"Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty, "and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it."

It's like that big scene in Casino Royale. James Bond is playing for big stakes and the only way he can win, is to go all in and risk losing it all. He does so and cleans everybody out.

The promises of God are even greater.... but they require an even greater risk. Lets face it though, the stakes are higher so why shouldn't that be the case with the risk? The kingdom of God can quite literally transform people's lives in this world and the next. The trouble is, to get to the good stuff you have to be prepared to lay it all on the line for God. Let's not deceive ourselves though - the things we play with... money, feelings, relationships, reputation. - they aren't truly ours anyway.

So the question I guess is: when God calls on us to place our poker chips on the table... are we prepared to go all in?

I just want to conclude with what I believe were Christ's words with regard to the matter:

Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?

Mark 8:34-37

Topsy Turvy

This week's been a strange one to say the least.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I feel like I've been lugging around a mountain full of Kryptonite based on my own decisions and commitments.

It became intolerably heavy and I was really struggling with it... but just as I came to cracking point, God enabled someone to understand my position exactly; they know who they are and they have my eternal gratitude for their perception and kindness.

So one minute I'm nosediving and the next, I'm levelling off and have strength for the road ahead once more.

Actually come to think there's a verse in "For All the Saints" (a song which we didn't sing around All Saints Day this year), I've been thinking about it over the past few days:

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

When you think that this weekend marks the Festival of Remembrance, that takes on extra meaning. How weary must our nation's soldiers feel... bearing the heavy burden of a war they did not ask for and in many ways are not thanked for. How important to them is the need to hear the songs of victory and spiritual homecoming... that we so often take for granted.

On the slim chance that any servicemen reading this, you are not alone... and when we hear the stories of sacrifice that seem to come in so frequently... please know that you are not far from our thoughts and prayers.

Though my blog post is not about that, I felt it would be crass and insensitive not to make that point.

Going back to the hymn verse, I feel that it's something we all need to experience. In my blog post "Listen...", I referenced Elijah's encounter with God at Horeb.

However before that encounter, Elijah had felt despondent and unable to carry on. It took a visit from an angel of the Lord to give him the physical and spiritual nourishment he needed in order to continue on his journey.

God knows that sometimes we let ourselves get run into the ground (even and sometimes especially in his service).

He always provides the strength we need to continue.

The next part of my week that somewhat came out of the blue, was the revelation that a student I went to college with years ago, was and is a Christian (although during our shared time at college, she was going through a rebellious phase).

I'd always been quite open about my beliefs at college and aside from my friendship with Dom (a friend who I'd known since school), I'd always assumed I'd been alone on that front.

How do you react when you learn something like that?

Well, one worldly way of looking at it, would be to turn inwardly... be selfish and feel bitter - "all those times when I was getting knocked for my faith... where were you?"

However that is not the Godly way to look at it. In truth I take no umbrage and am not in the remotest sense or slightest way upset.

I am merely overcome with deep joy, that someone I had known as a colleague for a short time is actually a fellow worker and sister in Christ.

In a topsy turvy week, you can choose how to look at things... on this occasion I think I chose wisely.

Later in the week I lost my keys... and spent a whole 24 hours moping about the fact and a further 24 hours without personal transport.

I searched everywhere around the office and retraced my steps to no avail. I visited the police station to report them missing but held little hope because last time something like this happened, nobody was honest enough to hand them in (I am assured by the people around me that the latter scenario is the norm.... a fact I truly struggle to comprehend).

I set the wheels in motion to get myself a new car key as over a day had passed and I was getting fed up of relying on the inefficiency of regional public transport. I did however have this nagging gut feeling that they keys would show up... and I should have trusted my instinct, because when I got home after the second day... there was a message on the phone advising me of the safe return of my keys.

In a topsy turvy week you can choose how to look at things... on that occasion I think I chose poorly.

All in all a very up and down week. I am just thankful to God and the friends I have, that I have been able to navigate my way through it.