Unexpected Journeys

Merry Christmas everyone!

I decided to write this post in response to a minor pang of guilt I experienced last night.

I was sat in the Midnight Eucharist service at church and listening to the vicar as he started his Christmas sermon. All was going well enough when he used a phrase... three little words that completely threw my concentration and caused me to tune out completely; just three words.

The phrase he used was "An unexpected journey". I have no idea how the next 5 minutes of the sermon went because I ended up mentally going here instead:

Yes, my mind had drifted over to The Shire. In fairness, I'm pretty psyched about The Hobbit, the trailer has only recently been released and I've been watching it quite a bit through sheer excitement. However whichever way you cut it, that probably wasn't the best time for me to choose to go off daydreaming... was it? Although... that said, some might argue my timing was perfect ;)

By way of recompense, I decided to write a little  bit on The Nativity that filled the gulf left by my lapse in concentration.

It occurs to me that there are a number of unexpected journeys involved in the Nativity story. First you have Mary... the young virgin pledged in marriage to Joseph. I am sure the last thing she expected was for an angel to appear in her pantry and advise her of God's plan to bring about the birth of the Messiah through her. Then there is Joseph. I am equally certain that the last thing he expected while he was working on a door frame, was for his fiance to tap him on the shoulder and advise him that she was carrying a child... let alone God's own son.

What of the shepherds tending their sheep? Did they expect the night sky to erupt in an explosion of light and rhymes as angels pouring out of the heavens announcing the arrival of the Christ child? Of course not. Or the Magi? Even if in their ruminations and studies they had anticipated that such a special child was coming into the world... they had no inkling whatsoever into the manner that child would arrive... or where he would be born.

All of these people were faced with circumstances that felt very alien to them; and each of them were presented with a difficult choice.  Mary had to choose whether she would be willing to carry God's child inside of her for 9 months and raise him to manhood knowing the potential difficulties society would throw at her. Joseph had to decide whether or not to honour his marriage commitment to Mary given the unusual story she was presenting him with... and the burden of raising and providing for a son that was not his own, while all the time hearing the jeers of scoffers and whispers of gossipmongers whose prejudice condemned his family. The shepherds had to decide if they were going to act on their trippy experience... possibly risking their already rubbish jobs, in order to see a baby whose significance they did not understand. The Magi had travel across half the Middle East picking up very expensive trade products based on a whimsical calculation over the movement of interplanetary bodies that might easily have proved baseless... especially when they got to Jerusalem and found things weren't as they assumed.

You see, with Jesus nobody knows what to expect. This was a key point that her majesty The Queen raised in her Christmas speech earlier today:

"God sent into the world a unique person - neither a philosopher nor a general, important though they are, but a Saviour, with the power to forgive."

It is as true today as it was then. In Jesus, nobody knows quite what to expect. People miss out on knowing and experiencing who Jesus is because they look at him through the lens of their own perceived wisdom and expectations. The Pharisees and Zealots failed to recognise Jesus when he appeared because they were anticipating a warrior king, a general. Similarly today, people mistakenly relegate Jesus to the same league as the philosophers and teachers of old - a line of thinking that C.S. Lewis robustly refuted in his Liar, Lunatic or Lord argument.

As a Christian I accept that Jesus Christ is far more than a decent man and a good teacher... but more than this I accept that his sovereignty as part of the Godhead and his role in my own life, give him the authority to step into my life and call upon me to set foot on unexpected journeys... to undertake unexpected things, constantly.

You may be reading this and not actually be a Christian and if so perhaps this is the beginning of an unexpected journey of your own. Confronted with the possibility that Jesus may be more than you imagine or understand him to be, are you prepared to invite him in and find out what his real agenda is in your life and the life of those around you?

Like Bilbo Baggins, if we set off on our own unexpected journey with Christ, we will find that we will have quite a tale to tell... and wherever our journey takes us, we too will be changed. To journey for Christ is to journey with him...

...and that changes everything.

Are you prepared to begin your own unexpected journey?

Sleigh Oddity

In a moment of random madness, I found myself Christmassing up some classic rock hits... I think in my defence, that I was really tired at the time.

The most prominent one I decided to massacre have a go at, was David Bowie's Space Oddity. I decided to pay homage to the original song's theme by having Santa flying off into deep space at the end. I mean when you think about it, where does he go once Christmas is done? Is it really fair to suggest he only works one day a year?

For bonus points I decided to try and explain in a throwaway lyric, how it is that Santa can cover the entire Earth's surface and deliver to all good children on the planet, in a single night.

So here without further ado, I give you.... Sleigh Oddity:

The North Pole to Santa Claus

The North Pole to Santa Claus

Eat your mincemeat pies and put your red suit on

(Dasher) The North Pole (Dancer) to Santa Claus (Prancer)

(Vixen) Commencing Christmas (Comet), space-time paused (Cupid)

(Donner) Check those presents (Blitzen) and may Rudolph (Lift Off!) guide you true.

This is the North Pole to Santa Claus

You've really made their day

And the children want to thank the jolly man

Now it's time to leave the fireplace if you can.

This is Santa Claus to the North Pole I'm climbing up the chute

And I'm squashed up in a most a-peculiar way

and my magic sleigh seems very far away.

For here am I stuck inside this chimney far above the hearth

Planet Earth is white on this holy silent night.

Now I've clocked 100,000 miles I'm feeling very ill

And I think my reindeer know which way to go

Tell those kids I love them very much, they know.

The North Pole to Santa Claus your sleigh bells stopped where've you gone

Can you hear me Santa Claus? Can you hear me Santa Claus? Can you hear me Santa Claus? Can you...

Here am I zooming off in deep space, far beyond the stars

Kids on planets new, need to get their presents too.

If  you want to try singing along and seeing if it tracks, I've added a link to an instrumental of Bowie's original below.

 

Over to you... what classic songs of yesteryear can you rework with a Christmas theme?

Give and Take

You can't have failed to have seen the new John Lewis promotional advert that has been inundating TV screens on all commercial channels for a couple of weeks now.

It's a very clever advert that tells the story of a little boy anxiously waiting for Christmas morning. Having all been children, we can immediately connect with the advert because we empathise with that gnawing sensation of our stomach tying itself in knots as the days agonisingly edge towards Christmas. It's a feeling we can all associate with.

The backing track of Slow Moving Millie's cover of The Smith's "Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want." harnesses the emotional connection and ratchets it up wonderfully.

However, there's a wonderful twist in the tale. When Christmas morning finally arrives, we discover the boy was not anxious about the presents he was going to receive from his parents... but instead he was desperate to give a gift that he has crudely wrapped up for his parents to receive.

Some Morrissey and Smiths fans have shown a lot of contempt for the fact that John Lewis chose to use a cover version instead of the original. They've also attacked Amelia Warner (Slow Moving Millie), for being one of the commercial cash cows that are engineered by the likes of Simon Cowell and ripping off a classic. I completely and utterly disagree with them. The melancholic nature of the original track makes the song extremely downbeat. It's a lamentation and almost resignation that life doesn't seem to ever go the way the songwriter wants. The cover seems to transform the sentiment and carry with it the hope that luck, consequence and fate will change and the wheel will turn. If you think about it in context, the advert actually needs this sentiment in order to work properly. For those who contend with Ms Warner herself, I would point out that she is an established songwriter herself and I would contend that having written songs that convey her own feelings, she has earned the right to channel someone else's. Oh and apparently Morrissey himself said he liked it.

The time of year being what it is, the advert got me thinking about the nature of expectation and giving and the way we perceive God.

As Christians, we live or lives in the context of eternity... and our hopes and expectations are set on heaven... Advent reminds us of this very fact. Even though this is the case, we also live temporal lives... our "earthly tents" and we naturally have hopes, desires, aspirations and expectations for the time we spend here too. If we aren't too careful there is a real danger that we become like children waiting for Christmas. We sit counting the hours, peeling away the doors on the advent calendar of lives and looking at the pictures... and we miss the moments.

While we wait expectantly and hopefully on God's promises... shouldn't we be more proactive and beneficial? Maybe we can learn a lesson and be like the kid in that John Lewis advert. Perhaps it is time for us to start trusting in God's promises... accepting that they will be fulfilled in the time he has deemed right in his wisdom. Having accepted this, perhaps we can instead turn our attention and contemplation to how we can serve him. We need to move the big red presents from the back of our wardrobe and bring it to God. While we wait on his goodness we can be sharing that same goodness to enrich the lives of others in a godly way. Inasmuch as we are expectant beneficiaries of God's blessings, we are also agents of such blessings... and we have a roll to play in distributing God's gifts & fruit to the people we meet in the world everyday around us.

For it is indeed more blessed to give than to receive.

But it also works the other way too... doesn't it? While we live in these shadowlands, following in the footsteps of an omnipotent God, it's easy to fall to the temptation that everything we do is solely for his benefit... particularly when times are tough. We would certainly not be the first of God's people to question his motives - the Bible has plenty of examples from prophets to kings to apostles. I think we have to take a look at ourselves an honestly ask the question:  Is there a bitter seed of distrust in me that believes God is taking advantage of me?

Is there a part of us that considers God to be a kid pouting in the corner selfishly waiting for what he will get from us, without consideration of our mortal needs and desires?

Scripture teaches us that this is not the case at all:

"Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion?  If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

Luke 11:11-13

 and:

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

Romans 8:28

If you do think that, then you are either in for an awful shock or a wonderful surprise on "Christmas Day". You see, I believe God is just like that kid in the advert too! While we may regard him with petty suspicion... he's sat there, not pouting about what he's waiting for from us... he's agonising over the wait to give us his good things. There are times when the time, the person or the circumstances are not right... and God has to patiently wait while he refines us or grows us or makes the necessary changes for him to be able to pour out his blessings.

And if we had any doubt at all about God's ability to give selflessly, then we need look no further than December 25th. At this time of year Christians across the planet recall with special affection the day that God became incarnate as man and gave himself completely and utterly to the cause of totally redeeming us.

I want to leave you with one more thought. There's another advert... a Channel 4 spoof commercial featuring Gordon Ramsay (promoting his Christmas cooking programme). It pretty much matches the John Lewis advert with one exception... as the little boy heads through the house to give his parents his lovingly wrapped gift, he opens the kitchen door to be greeted by Gordon Ramsay who aggressively sharpens some knives and curtly tells him to get peeling the spuds.

Let's not be like that.

If God has something really precious to give us... lets not lose sight of that. Let us not become so obsessed with our small potato spiritual shopping lists that we miss the really big things that God has for us.

It is more blessed to give than to receive.

Life's Too Short...

... for chess, or so the saying goes.

In one of my "Sheldon" moments, I had a flash of inspiration for a new variation on chess.  Where Star Trek brought the idea of 3D chess into the public consciousness, I have thought of going one step further... 4D Chess.

Yes it sounds crazy... and it is. However humour me for a brief moment here, I think I'm on to something. The idea goes something like this:

The chessboard is laid out traditionally however, after each turn the player rolls a set of dice. If they get a double, they must move the last moved piece "back in time". Essentially the piece occupies the same square by however many turns back are shown on the dice. If another piece occupies a spot where the time travelling piece ends up, it may be taken, however if the space is already occupied by a piece where the time travelling piece arrives, both pieces are removed from play. The other rules of chess remain unaffected.

I'd like somehow to give this idea a shot. I think it's rather complex and would probably work best in a computerised environment... simply because the logistics of moving pieces around in time could get quite frustrating... but a computer rendering doesn't suffer that problem.

So what do you think... insanity or genius?

 Oh by the way... I also have an idea for 5D chess. ;)

Sometimes We Sting... Sometimes We Save

In the past on this blog I have referred to a couple of images/anecdotes that look at the different behavioural attitudes we adopt in our relationships with people. What has been on my heart for a little while and what I thought I'd do in this post, is combine all three... and look at them together.

The first is a joke; an amusing anecdote that we are supposed to use to look at life when it gives us one of its occasional knees to the groin. The saying goes like this:

"Accept that some days you are the pigeon and some days you are the statue".

I know its a joke... but I have never felt comfortable with it. What it says to me is that when life drops a bucket load of guano on your head... its okay, because some day you'll be the one depositing the guano on somebody else.

The second is the infamous story (once referenced in Star Trek: Voyager), of a scorpion who wanted to cross a swollen river.  Aware of his shortcomings and knowing that any attempt at swimming would result in certain death, the scorpion attempts to coerce a nearby fox. The fox being cunning and wise points out that its a stupid thing to do because the scorpion will sting him and kill him. The scorpion reasons with him and points out that if he does sting the fox, they will BOTH drown in the river and die... so it isn't in his interests to betray his unlikely ally. The fox can't fault the scorpions logic and allows the arachnid to hop on his back. The couple begin their crossing and all is going well. However, when the fox reaches the deepest part of the river... the scorpion rears up his sting and plunges it into the neck of the fox.  As the neurotoxin begins to take effect and the creatures begin to sink below the waterline, the fox gives one last look over his shoulder, stares forlornly at the scorpion and asks "Why? Why did you do this? Now we'll both die!"

The scorpion answers "I'm sorry... I couldn't help it. It's just my nature."

That story is a constant reminder to me that we all carry an element of the fallen nature inside of us... that even when our intentions are good and honourable, some times we fall prey to the remnants of the sinful nature that lurk deep inside waiting for moments to strike... just like a scorpion's sting.

The last anecdote also contains an equally aquatically challenged scorpion who is in dire peril. This scorpion keeps slipping off a riverbank and falling into a river to his doom. Fortunately for him, two monks are washing bowls in the river nearby. One of the monks spots the scorpion and rescues him. In return for the monk's kindness, the scorpion... yep you guessed it... stings him before scuttling off. However, the scorpion is soon in trouble again and falls straight back into the water. The monk wastes no time in rescuing the scorpion again... and again. Each time he does so, he receives a sting for his trouble. This goes on until the monk's companion asks him "Why do you keep doing that? Don't you know that scorpion will just keep stinging you?  That's its nature!"

"Ah..." replies the other monk "... but it is my nature to save."

Looking at those stories together tells us something quite profound about life. There are going to be times in all our lives when we mess up and hurt the ones around us - the ones who we care about... and who care about us. We can't help it... its in our nature (albeit a nature we need to resist). However if we strive with all our heart to adopt Christ's nature... the one that His Spirit calls us to, we can bear with one another's brokenness and faults with mercy and compassion... encouraging those around us to do likewise by the righteous examples God works through us.

Sometimes we sting, sometimes we save... how we feel about those two facts reveals a lot about our character and our relationships with one another and God. What it is NEVER okay to do is to be the pigeon.  Everyone knows what it feels like to be the statue... everybody knows how bad it feels when someone bombs your life with emotional excrement. We all know what it feels like to be stung... so can we really afford to take a blasé attitude with others, every time we feel an irresistible urge to unfairly offload our rubbish attitudes on those around us?

We can't.

Sometimes we sting.  When this happens (as it does), we need to recognise we are doing it, what is driving it and ask forgiveness in all sincerity for it.

Sometimes we save.  We need to be watchful for those around us who are openly hurting. We need to go the distance and do what we can to help them out, even if it is just praying for them. They may sting you for your trouble, but never forget their value... or the fact that someday you may need a friend to save you in spite of your own stinging.

The Running Man

In the past couple of weeks I've decided to take up running as a bit of a pastime. My current tactics are to run for approximately 30 minutes - one day on, one day off.

It's not something I've really done before and it already feels like it is taking some time to make any progress whatsoever.  It is something that isn't helped by my stubborn attitude and disregard for regimens that are there to help build me up slow and steady. In my first week I was supposed to be walking for 90 seconds and running for 60... but I was literally deciding to run before I could walk and doing it the other way round... something I wasn't supposed to be doing until this second week.

I'm also being aided and hindered in equal spades by my iPhone and its random music selection. I find myself running/jogging to the pace dictated by the music rather than setting something that is comfortable for the length of time I'm engaging in the activity.  It gets worse if a track pops up that spurs me on.... because I abandon any timing discipline and then just throw myself into pushing through the entire song at pace.

All this aside, I have noticed some benefit. I'm able to push myself for slightly longer for those songs for a start; I'm also shaving off the time it takes me to get round the course I've plotted out for myself. This is forcing me to look at ways to expand the distance I run because I'm in danger of coming in from my runs too quickly... I need to keep to that 30 minute window.

So what on Earth has spurred me into this formerly uncharacteristic course of action? Is it just a desire to lose a bit of weight and get fit... or is there more to it than that?

I have several reasons and yes, fitness and wellbeing are among them. However at the heart of my actions lies a far more fundamentally important reason. Ever since I have returned from Italy, I have felt a spiritual energy that has kept me buoyant and forward thinking. I don't want to lose or forget that... I need to remember. There are beacons in the distance that I need to be aiming for, beacons that at the moment I have no idea how to to reach... but at some point in the not to distant future I'm going to have to punch the core and make a break for them. However, I live in a quiet corner of the galaxy that has a habit of putting dreams and ideas to sleep... of subjecting you to a kind of spiritual oppression and putting you in your place... even if it's not the place you need to be.

More than this, I feel I've returned to a land of pessimism that needs to remember its own hopes and promises. There was a baptism in my church the other week and several people commented that "we'll not see them again". Furthermore, I also caught myself feeling quite glum at the prospect of worshipping in what felt like a godless environment... until I realised the magnitude of what those feelings do to you and fought back hard with a renewed  sense of zeal and evangelistic vigour.

If you've ever seen the Star Trek: Voyager episode "Unforgettable", then you'll have seen a parallel of what I'm talking about. In the episode, the first officer Chakotay falls in love with a woman from a species who fade out of a person's living memory when they leave them. At the end of this particular episode, the woman Chakotay has a relationship with leaves... and as she does so, a the ship's computer memory banks and the crew's memories begin to lose the knowledge of who she was. Desperate not to forget the memory of this woman and what the time spent with her meant to him, Chakotay resorts to the most rudimentary of writing implements - pen and paper, in a bid to permanently record the memories before he loses them forever.

That is kind of what I am doing. I don't want to lose the memories of what I have felt, what I have experienced and what I have learned about myself... and until such a time as I find a way to commit to a course of action that honours those sentiments, I am determined to do what I can to hold on to what I have already attained. I also don't want to see what life that remains in my church, choked out of it... I want people to learn once again to look at the Son (sic) and not at the shadows.

And so I run... and I keep on running... pushing myself and reminding myself that every strained breath keeps the other, nobler, higher more distant aims fresh in my mind until an opportunity, a path or a choice appears that I can commit my energy to.

And I'm not just running with my body.

A few of us have been in the habit of praying weekly at church... but different people's commitments are making it hard to stick to the agreed time and day. This I decided was an opportunity and not a difficulty to overcome... and so I now do my best to pop in every work night, even if it's just for a few minutes, to make sure God gets more... not less out of the new set of circumstances.

I run now... to better myself in every way - body, mind and soul, in the hope that I can glorify God by becoming the man he wants to be as and when he chooses and to sustain the momentum that he put in my heart.

Do you hear a call to start running in some way today?

"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 someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize."

1 Corinthians 9:24-27

Rights and Wrongs

Several days after the Home Secretary - Theresa May literally let the cat out of the bag (bad joke I know), I thought I'd take a fresh look at what all the political angst is all about... namely The Human Rights Act 1998.

Many Tories including Theresa May and the Prime Minister David Cameron, are opposed to the current legislation because they believe it hampers the immigration service by protecting criminals and stopping them from being deported. Those who are against the Human Rights Act propose instead that the UK should have a bill of rights (similar to the USA), that outlines responsibilities as well as entitlements under law.

Before I go on, I just want to take a look at a summary of the Human Rights Act that you can find on the DirectGov website:

The Human Rights Act 1998 gives further legal effect in the UK to the fundamental rights and freedoms contained in the European Convention on Human Rights. These rights not only impact matters of life and death, they also affect the rights you have in your everyday life: what you can say and do, your beliefs, your right to a fair trial and other similar basic entitlements. 

Most rights have limits to ensure that they do not unfairly damage other people's rights. However, certain rights – such as the right not to be tortured – can never be limited by a court or anybody else. 

You have the responsibility to respect other people's rights, and they must respect yours.

Your human rights are:

• the right to life
• freedom from torture and degrading treatment
• freedom from slavery and forced labour
• the right to liberty
• the right to a fair trial
• the right not to be punished for something that wasn't a crime when you did it
• the right to respect for private and family life
• freedom of thought, conscience and religion, and freedom to express your beliefs
• freedom of expression
• freedom of assembly and association
• the right to marry and to start a family
• the right not to be discriminated against in respect of these rights and freedoms
• the right to peaceful enjoyment of your property
• the right to an education
• the right to participate in free elections
• the right not to be subjected to the death penalty

If any of these rights and freedoms are breached, you have a right to an effective solution in law, even if the breach was by someone in authority, such as, for example, a police officer.

I wonder... can you seriously look at that list and see anything wrong in principle? No. There isn't a single thing I would disagree with. As a Christian, everything I see in that list is covered by Christ's command to love our neighbour as ourselves.

You see in my opinion the problem often isn't to be found in laws themselves... but in the people who interpret them. I don't believe swapping out one law and replacing it with another would find any permanent effective solution. There will always be people who seek to manipulate law or exploit a loophole or create a legal aberration for their own devices and eventually civil case law gradually ushers common sense away and we find ourselves back at square one. This is not something that is limited merely to criminals and their defending lawyers... judges, prosecutors and lawmakers are equally guilty.

Take Theresa May's own words for example. She took the case of a Bolivian immigrant and cited cat ownership as the deciding factor in preventing his deportation. In fact it was not... even in her own quote she refers to a "they". In context, the Bolivian had an unmarried partner and the acquisition of a cat was merely used as an example of the things they had done together as a couple... it was not the driving force behind the judge's decision.

None of this is new... politicians, authorities and legal experts have been worming their way around laws and statutes ever since the gleaming rays of the dawn of civilization first warmed mankind's cheeks.

Christians should be acutely aware of this because in the Bible, The Pharisees practically turned it into an art form! I was reading up on Matthew 23 while writing this blog and it struck me that a lot of the patterns that Jesus criticised the teachers of the law for, are common to those in authority who are drawn to power and use legislation as a way of procuring or preserving it.

This is the problem you get in society when you literally "enshrine" the law but neglect to leave room for grace. The letter of the law takes over and the spirit of the law diminishes. Pretty soon you find yourself straining out gnats and swallowing camels or painting whitewashed tombs. Jesus summed it up perfectly... the most important matters in law are justice, mercy and faithfulness.

Sometimes I wish judges or people in the right circumstances just had the conviction and authority to just metaphorically tear up legal papers pertaining to a case and call it on its common sense merit. People aren't stupid, they often know when someone is feeding them a bucket of manure, they don't need a piece of paper to tell them. If a criminal or lawyer is twisting the words of the law to apply a level of protection or prosecution to imply something it doesn't actually mean... then I say it is this that needs to be changed and not the laws themselves.

I don't necessarily oppose the composition of a bill of rights... but I don't see why it should need to replace the Human Rights Act. The Act doesn't just defend your rights; if you abuse the rights of another, then the Act works against you too. In fact technically, the legislation could be protected against the politicians who wish to do away with it:

If any of these rights and freedoms are breached, you have a right to an effective solution in law, even if the breach was by someone in authority, such as, for example, a police officer.

That kind of suggests to me that if a politician (being a lawmaker and source of authority), tries to repeal the Act, then they are actually violating all of our human rights and are prosecutable themselves.

In conclusion then, I would support a bill of rights that accompanied and worked alongside the Human Rights Act, one that clarifies what society finds acceptable behaviour and expected responsibility... without removing or diminishing the rights of citizens under the current set up.

After all... the Human Rights Act is not just a bureaucratic bundle of papers imposed on Britain by the European Union. It finds its origins in the Declaration of Human Rights that Britain signed up to as a permanent member of the United Nations Security Council with powers of veto. We helped lead the way... how great would the burden and sense of shame be if we turned our backs on it?

The Italian Job

I promised a bit more of a general breakdown of my Italian escapade when last I blogged... something that wasn't restricted to any life lessons and that just gave an overview of what went on. Some points drift off into the cryptic... but as I said in my last post, some of what I'm reflecting on is for my more private blog. As I have gone on writing this... it has taken on a life of its own and has become something of an epic. You may want to read it in small doses.

Thursday 8th September

Got up early and burned rubber all the way to Kent. I was blessed in that I beat a rather nasty snarl up on the M40 that was reported on my radio about 30 minutes after I passed through. The M25 was a doddle. I met up with some of the people who were going to be my stalwart companions for the next week or so and boarded the coach... destination mainland Europe via my very first trip underneath the English Channel in the Eurotunnel. We emerged into the drizzly light of rainy France and raced the inclement weather into Switzerland. As we tried our best to settle into the night for some much needed sleep, I was awestruck by the silhouettes of the mighty Alps set against the backdrop of a curtain of starlight.

Friday 9th September

As we passed from Switzerland into the northernmost parts of Italy, the warmth of the sun greeted us in all it's intensity. We stopped for breakfast where I was astounded to discover that the game "the three cards" or "three bells" is sternly frowned upon in Italy... carrying an €80 - €500 fine for participation. In my tired state I also mistakenly thought that the Italians were obsessed with eating cod... as all the dishes were marked with COD. In fairness I was only looking at breaded white meat... but still, what a plonker I was! We made our way further south until we reached our first hotel. The town we were staying in was a bit of a tourist trap, but very pleasant. I went for a stroll on the beach with my first roomies on the trip - Michael & Tom. We narrowly avoided being conned into buying kites by posing for photos for each other while the persistent vendor impatiently hovered. Michael, Tom and I decided to go to the local supermarket to stock up on food and drink for our foray into Venice... but on our way back we overshot the hotel by about a quarter of a mile and had to trudge back shamefaced and swearing one another to secrecy. After our first evening session (held al fresco on the beach), we wandered up and down the main street and listened to a local couple singing British easy listening tracks in Italian at a local restaurant.

Saturday 10th September

This was it... the first real day of action. We were dropped off at a ferry terminal and cruised into Venice Harbour. I spent the journey there getting to a know a couple of the girls, sharing out my binoculars to anyone who wanted to take a peek at the city from a distance... and wondering if we'd spot anything/anybody connected to the Venice Film Festival which was reaching a climax that day. Nope... didn't run into any celebrity type creatures (not that I particularly care). We docked in the shadow of an immense cruise liner, toured St. Mark's Basilica together and then having reached the Rialto bridge, we fanned out and went off on separate adventures. Michael and Tom had no plan of action... so I somehow managed to get appointed as the tour guide. Having no better idea about where to go than the others, I fell back on my geek credentials and did what any self respecting nerd would do.... I came up with a hare brained ambitious quest to locate the chapel that was used to film the library scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (incidentally I miserably failed... it wasn't anywhere near our route). It was a privilege to stumble across a newly-wed couple as they emerged from church and boarded a gondola for their first trip together as man and wife. Having reached the furthest point (Venice's car park), we made our way back through narrow passages and back streets and were highly disturbed by all the masquerade costumes. We stopped off for a gelato (which gave us all brain freeze as we had to eat them very quick to avoid them melting in the heat). It was at this point that I saved Michael and Tom from a nasty bout of Weil's Disease, as I chastised them for washing their hands in the canal of all places... and got them to wash their hands in a fountain. Having extensively toured the canals and chapels on two of the adjoined islands, we made our way back to the rendezvous point on Tatooine at the harbour. Many of us were dehydrated and exhausted in the heat and took shelter in the shade provided at a local restaurant/hotel. That was until the grumpy steward shooed half of us off. So. If you ever find yourself in Venice, you may wish to reconsider dining or staying at the Hotel Gabrielli. A smaller but more speedy ferry picked us up and I had a particularly pleasant voyage back thanks to some friendly company and good banter.

Sunday 11th September

Our following day was spent in transit as we headed for the eternal city - Rome itself. Unfortunately at one of our stop offs, one of the girls had her purse snatched in the lavatories. This put a bit of dampener on our journey but we tried to keep one another's spirits up. Upon reaching our new hotel, I parted company with Michael and Tom as I was paired up with my new roomie, Ross. We quickly struck up a rapport and did some serious male bonding while watching the US version of Total Wipeout in Italian in our room. I was tired and beginning to procrastinate on a couple of things I had realised... so it was good to have some light relief both in terms of company and random entertainment. At the evening session I felt like a total utter nerd because I recognised the Voyager 1 image known as The Pale Blue Dot that was being used as a backdrop for the evening talk.

Monday 12th September

Today was the day we actually hit the centre of Rome...but not before playing a game of sardines by riding a train from an outlying station close to where we were staying. We were on the lookout for pickpockets (we had been warned about them operating in Rome), yet little did we realise that whilst we would have no incidents in the city itself... while we were away, the coach would be broken into and raided. Today I decided to hang around some of our colonial cousins led by Dan (a teacher from Australia). We made our way out to the Spanish Steps, where local vendors cheekily gave women roses "for luck" and then tapped up male members of the party for payment for their "gift". We then turned south and headed for the Trevi Fountain... it was an amazing sight to behold. Wonderfully crafted marble spouting water that glistened beautifully as it gushed and trickled through the stonework.

En route to the Vatican museum, we took a trip round the Pantheon... which had a mystical feel to it as you watched the sun slowly move round the central chamber through an aperture in the roof. I was sorely tempted to buy a replica Gladius sword from a local souvenir shop. It was real metal and a snitch at €81. However I was unsure of Oak Halls policy with regard to ancient weaponry... let alone the nightmare of getting a sword through customs on the way home!  We realised at this point that we were short on time and so we ploughed on... determined to keep our appointment at the Vatican. Once we reached our destination, we were not to be disappointed. We navigated our way through seemingly endless halls containing sculptures, relics, maps, tapestries and frescoes. It was sensory overload. Fortunately for us there was a chamber of slightly less impressive modern art that gave us opportunity to recuperate and prepare ourselves for the Vatican's crown jewel... I am of course referring to The Sistine Chapel.

Words can't express the feeling of being there, they really can't. I stood there moving around the entire chapel with my head craning up and my mouth agape. It was a sardine tin again... as the place was crammed. We were also not supposed to take photographs... but I really didn't mind that. It was just an absolute privilege just to be in the place. I could have stayed there forever it seems.

Upon return to the hotel, I decided to take a private walk to the beach in the dark... wrestling with a few thoughts and some antipodean germs that were affecting my throat. I made it back for the evening service and had a long chat with someone who needed a bit of advice and a friendly ear. As a result of this my mini tour group was bolstered by one for the next day's visit to Rome. For some reason I holidays don't seem complete to me unless I'm actually contributing in some way to others.

Tuesday 13th September

We visited Rome again and it was my turn to play "Sherpa" once more. We stayed with the main group early on for a tour of some of the more subtle sights of the city. However upon reaching the Forum and resting in a gardened area (where incidentally, I managed to discover a truffle), we split up again and after a pit stop for pizza in a back alley and a bout of haggling over some maps with street vendors, we headed over to the Colosseum..... Oh you should see the Colosseum, Spaniard. Once a place of death and blood lust, it now bears a cross at its centre and is used to commemorate the memory of the martyrs who perished there. In fact the Colosseum is one of the monuments that lights up on the international day against the death penalty in October. It also lights up whenever a death sentence is commuted or a nation abolishes capital punishment. Like the cross... a symbol of death has become a symbol of hope and life. I wanted to have a look at the excavated monuments in that area but the other lads had not had opportunity to see the Trevi fountain and so... feeling I'd seen what I most wanted to get out of Rome and not wanting to deny my companions the opportunity of seeing something they really wanted to see, we yomped off down the road towards the fountain. Having reached our objective and run into some of the girls coming back the other way, we tarried a few moments, taking pictures and resting... before heading back to St. Peter's Square at pace in order to make the rendezvous. We missed the took a different route back to everyone else but it afforded us a better view of the Tiber so we didn't complain. We were utterly exhausted and dehydrated and so we stopped off for a drink and gelato. I was so hot and bothered and lost in thought, that I completely missed the playful flirtations of the waitress who served me... it's always the way isn't it?

Wednesday 14th September

I rose early and ascended to the hotel roof where I watched the early morning flights crossing the sun as they made their way to Rome's main airport, before joining several others in prayer. We bade farewell to the hotel owner who was really friendly and ran out into the road to wave the coach off... what a lovely guy! I was kind of spaced out on this day but I really appreciated our tour of the catacombs, seeing places where early Christians worshipped and were laid to rest in the times of persecution. I had an epiphany about St. Sebastian. He was supposed to have been miraculously healed of arrow wounds when he was condemned to death by archery. If this is true, then I believe the real miracle was what followed... you see Sebastian's survival gained him an audience with the Emperor Diocletian (who reigned during what was known as "The Great Persecution"). He was martyred shortly after this (permanently this time), so I believe it was an act of God's grace to give even the despicable Diocletian a chance to hear the gospel.  We travelled north and made our way into the Tuscan countryside. When we arrived at our new hotel, I went for a reconnoitre around the area... gathering my thoughts, stretching my legs and looking for somewhere to chill out with the others later on.

Thursday 15th September

Today we travelled to Siena (hot on the heels of James Bond in Quantum of Solace). Although we didn't find any secret cabals or terrorist organisations, we did find a whopping great bell tower in the centre of the town off the Piazza del Campo. As we split into groups again, I bought a map,consulted with Michael, Tom and Sam about they wanted to do. We agreed we all wanted to get to the top of the tower (what was I thinking... I should have known better after Rome! No in all seriousness, I love climbing towers... I love getting a unique perspective of the world below). We decided to queue for that first as we knew it was a popular  thing to do. It's a good job we did that because we ended up waiting for about 40 minutes... it seems they only allow a maximum of 25 people in the tower complex at any one time. It was a gruelling climb... I smacked my brains out in the first few feet on a low hanging stone, Michael was exhausted with the climb, Sam struggled with the heat and Tom started coming down with vertigo. The view from the top was worth it all though... you could see far across the Tuscan countryside and right down on the tiny ant-like people way below us. We realised we needed to get down from the tower as we were denying others the opportunity to go up.  Tom shot off like a bull at a gate (I suspect the vertigo had something to do with it). I kept between him and the others. Pretty soon we were all at the bottom and we yomped off out of the maze-like back streets in search of a statue of Garibaldi. Along the way we were enjoying such scenes as the ruined medieval fortress  and err... the car park we started out from (nice going Nick). When we got back into Siena, we sat down for a lasagna and lemonade at a local restaurant where we were joined by James and Fiona. Major embarrassment loomed as the guys wanted to split the tab... which was something the staff weren't used to when they game back, everyone realised it would have been simpler to stick to paying the single bill. At this point we had 5 minutes left before we needed to move on... and everyone did the noble thing and shoved all the money in my hand before promptly legging it. In I went to sort things out with the management with my pigeon Italian vocabulary... by the grace of God I somehow managed to pay the bill without being lumbered with the washing up... and I beat a hasty retreat in order to rejoin the others.

We moved on to rendezvous with the coach which was about to escort us to San Gimignano... an old town of medieval skyscrapers, on the way we paused at a covered ornamental fish pond where we cooled our feet in a freezing overflow... sublime. Once in San Gimignano, I just wanted to chill out... so I made my way to some museum steps where Kate, Rachel and I had great fun people watching and pretending we were invisible. I say pretending... but the really strange thing was that other people from our party were staring in our direction or passing within metres of us and yet bizarrely we remained hidden from detection. On the way I scoffed another mint/melon gelato and thoroughly worn out with the heat... chilled out for the rest of the day.

Friday 16th September

Today was the day we hit Florence. My initial plan was to go and see the David at the Accademia and then move on to the Uffizi Gallery... but I was reliably informed that this was liable to be impossible due to the intense queuing at both and the the sheer amount of time it would take to get round the Uffizi Gallery. Having acquired yet another map, I took my trusty crew and headed for the Accademia (now bolstered by yet another companion as the lovely Rachel opted to come with us). We queued for about 25 minutes (not bad considering the estimated time was 45 minutes). The Accademia was built specifically to host the statue of Michelangelo's David... as you gaze upon the statue, you can see how the light plays on all the statues musculature... it's a masterpiece. It pretty much blows everything else in the entire gallery away. A couple of other discoveries were made in the Accademia... Sam could knock out a decent tune on a 3 note harpsichord... and I appear to be a virtuoso on the Singing Fountain Bowl. We decided to grab some lunch from the supermarket over the road; however, while we were still waiting for Tom to finish buying food and Michael to exit the Christian bookshop... a strange man came up to Sam, Rachel and myself and started spouting German gibberish at us... but we did understand one word that he uttered... "hashish". Rachel and I kind of did a double take as we realised what he'd said... and with the others rallied together, we decided to beat a hasty retreat to a nearby piazza. I swear in all my born days... that's the first time anyone's offered me anything illicit/illegal. What a sheltered life I've led!  You might have thought out troubles were over, but as we sat eating our lunch... we were pestered by a Roma beggar. I kind of felt it was wrong to give anything out as we'd been warned about Roma gangs and stuff like that. I did think for one moment that one of our party (mentioning no name lol), was going to give her a handful of Pringles... which I don't think would have gone down well at all.

We spent a little time in a cathedral at the centre of the city... and I loaned everyone the use of my binoculars so they could try and make out what was painted on the dome's fresco. We then reunited with several others and moved onto the main city bridge where lots of strange stuff happened. Firstly, Dan decided to grab a random stranger from behind (in the mistaken belief that the lady was one of our group) and totally embarrassed himself. Then, whilst I was window shopping with Rachel... Michael decided to chime in and ask if I was shopping for a ring! The temperature in Florence went up by about 30 degrees thanks to the glow from my cheeks.

Rachel then decided there was a basilica (Santa Croce) worth checking out further along the road... so the five of us made our way there. We discovered that there was an entry fee and so Michael, Tom and Sam decided they'd sit it out and get a gelato. Rachel informed me that the stained glass in this basilica was reportedly so impressive that a notable visitor once fainted as they walked in. Alas as we entered the building we discovered that the window was not visible due to restoration work. However I found the church to be very special in many other ways. It is the resting place of several notable people including Michelangelo, Gallileo, Machiavelli and Rossini. There was also a small altar commemorating Maximilian Kolbe (a personal hero). It seemed to me to be a nexus of things that mattered to me. It was a place of worship that paid tribute to the fields of reason and high culture... how wonderful. I'll never forget that place.

Rachel and I exited the church but the others had already cleared off, so we headed back together to the rendezvous point... unfortunately the coach was severely delayed though, so we spent time as a group chilling out by the river and watching the dodgy street vendors running from the police.

Back at the hotel, I really benefited from that evening's talk. It was all about God's divine providence... it really stirred me up and reminded me personally about what he has spoken to my soul in the past. I felt encouraged and restored in many ways... I didn't fully understand why until later, but I turned in on a very positive note that night. I had a very good chat with John  as we sat in the corner waiting for Ross to crawl in with Arianna. Ross being slightly the worse for ware was hilarious.

Saturday 17th September

I think this was the day I struggled the most... I really did have a lot on my plate and what with the talk the previous evening, I didn't feel like I'd "finished cooking". I was still processing a lot in my subconscious and it made me feel a little withdrawn. Nevertheless we checked out of the hotel and started out for Lake Maggiore... via Pisa. I was feeling quite down on approach to Pisa and for the most part I kept myself to myself as I wandered around the leaning tower and church buildings.

As we made our way back to the coach park we were defended from the fake goods salesmen by an Italian touring band who burst from their coach and triggered a spontaneous song and dance celebration. It was wonderful - we danced, we laughed... they boarded our coach repeatedly and though we were utter strangers, our serendipitous meeting brought much jollity on both sides. It was just what I needed at that time. It was one of those timely random encounters that just lifts your day in a magical way.

We drove through a fierce squall as we neared Lake Maggiore.... a proper Mediterranean storm.That night I had another long chat with John, Jamie and Tammy in the bar. I spent the night tossing and turning with thoughts in my head and the chuntering, laughing and sighing of Ross as he slept in his bed next to mine. Any hopes of getting any sleep that night flew out the window when at 3:20am, a bunch of rowdy Germans checked into the hotel in the rooms opposite ours. Honestly... all the shouting and slamming of doors made me think the Gestapo were coming to get us!

Sunday 18th September

We spent the morning prayer meeting sharing communion with one another which was a welcome change of pace. After my night of tossing and turning, I'd had a bit of epiphany about the "providence" talk, which helped me come to a personal decision about something I'd been procrastinating about... although fate worked against me doing anything about it until much later. Generally speaking, Lake Maggiore was more about kicking down and relaxing for me... I had no plan of action as to what I wanted to see, so I just tagged along for the most part. I made the severe mistake of not bothering to unpack my raincoat.... to which upon learning, Steve quite rightly called me "a muppet". I wasn't really thinking. Fortunately, Rachel shared her brolly with me and in fact it wasn't that bad... with only a couple of brief cloudbursts to worry about.

Enjoyed a bit of a random barn dance to celebrate our last night in Italy together and we all finished up singing Auld Lang Syne. As we broke up and headed back to the bar/rooms, I realised I needed to act on my decision and found myself unexpectedly doing so with a sense of determination.

Monday 19th September

Today we made preparations to head back to good old Blighty. Being up quite early, I treated Ronnie to a real Italian coffee... which seemed very sludgy. After breakfast, I spent time hanging round the shops in town with John (we did our very best to look straight), before joining up with Arianna and Ross for a coffee. We then shared a pizza together with more or less everyone from the trip. After lunch, we stocked up on snacky foods in the local supermarket... where I discovered that "God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman" appears to be in the Italian charts at the moment, as it was being played over the supermarket music system. What was that about??????

Sadly we bade farewell to Steve as we boarded the coach for our outward journey as he was flying ahead of us. This time as we hit the Alps, it was still daylight... so we were treated to an amazing transformation in scenery as we progressed northwards. It felt like we were passing into Narnia or the Misty Mountains... it was quite ethereal. When we finally reached an altitude that was level with the snowline, we made a brief stop and had an epic snowball fight. It was pretty surreal having come from sunny climes and wearing thin shirts, running around lobbing snow projectiles at our new friends. As night drew in, we shared a cup of hot chocolate together at the Swiss chalet where those of our number who were remaining on the Europe would be staying. We paid tribute one another (especially to Charis and James and our drivers who had led us in different ways. We then parted in bitter sweet fashion. It was sad seeing new friends faces disappearing into the blackness of night... I can still see Dan's outline as he waved us off illuminated only by the coach tail lights... and then fading into silhouette and becoming one with the background. Those of us on the coach still had one another, but there was a feeling that we'd been diminished significantly and some of us took it harder than others.

We huddled in the back and dealt with things in our own ways. Ross played with James' iPad and tried to excel at Fruit Ninja.  James came and checked up on Ross, Jamie and myself on the backseat and shared some of his observations about our exploits in the week. Some of the girls started singing Grease hits. I didn't think Jamie would appreciate listening to the soppy stuff, so I loaned him an ear on my iPhone and we started singing praise songs... amazingly everyone else eventually  joined in with us.

Eventually as the coach headed for Germany to pick up a spare part, we settled down to sleep (or did our best to). I had an amazing blessing at this point. I nodded off  prostrate on the back seat and had a very powerful Biblical dream that was very relevant to my circumstances. So powerful was this dream that when I woke up it felt like the dream had actually physically happened. At first I thought my brain was playing tricks on me... but it gradually dawned on me that something else was going on and as I settled back into my power napping I trusted in God and just felt so richly blessed. Daylight shone through the coach windows and we were in France. We eventually arrived at Eurotunnel a couple of hours late. I'd managed to go the entire holiday without being bitten by a bug or critter... but as I queued at passport control, a little blighter nipped me on my leg. How annoying!

I enjoyed the trip through the Eurotunnel and got some important clarification on some things that surprised me... but also reminded me of some of the things I'd learned about myself on the trip.

And so as we rolled into Kent on Tuesday morning... we made our final farewells. Sam had missed his coach so I offered to take him home. Upon contacting his father, we arranged to rendezvous at Bicester services which was on my way home. I was grateful to God for his protection on the way home... I hadn't appreciated just how tired I was going to be driving back.  I needed that pit stop in Bicester because I'd felt more than a little in trouble on the M25 and M40 at times.

Saying farewell to Sam was my last point of contact with my holiday... and as I wished him well, I switched on my radio and set course for Alcester with many treasured memories and new friends to think about.

I hope this detailed account hasn't put you off too much. I hope instead to have shared a little bit into what made my holiday such a happy and blessed time... and now I am back, I hope it is more than just business as usual.

God bless

N

Cartography

I haven't blogged for a while mainly because I've not had the opportunity. For the best part of two weeks I've been lording it up in the sunnier climes of Italy.

I took part in another expedition with Oak Hall (who if you recall, I went to Israel with 2 years ago). The trip was very different in feel to the Israel holiday... but I enjoyed it very much nonetheless. Inasmuch as I felt God's presence in a very special and unique way in Israel... I again had an amazing personal encounter with him in Italy.

What has all this got to do with cartography?

Well one of the things that made my experience of Italy so different to Israel, was the looser more liberal way we explored the cities we visited. We kept more together in Israel, taking part in walking tours... whereas in Italy we were given rendezvous times and locations... and set loose into the enigmatic surroundings. What came as an unexpected surprise to me was that somehow I ended up becoming passively delegated as a leader by a few of the lads who had no idea or plan of action of where they wished to go.... but then, neither did I for that matter.  However, I felt like I rose to the occasion.

On the very first foray (into Venice), I took hold of a crude map and consulting with my party, decided to head off on a tour of the islands that took in a number of churches en route. My aim was to hit a piazza in the north west that looked of interest. In actual fact it turned out to be the main car park for Venice itself, however it did afford us an excellent view of the main canal and a lovely wooded recreational park. As it happened serendipity was also on our side as we discovered when we stumbled upon Santa Maria Gloriosa church and were astounded to see a newly wed local couple emerging from the church and setting off on their first gondola ride as man and wife *sniff*, how moving.

A similar thing occurred on my second day in Rome where again I was charged with leading my troops to the Trevi Fountain. I'd already seen it the day before but the lads had missed out and so I promised to lead them there after we finished exploring the Colosseum. Arming myself with a map I set out across the back streets of Rome, using several landmarks to get me within shouting distance. We were running tight on time and so after our brief sojourn, we started yomping towards St. Peter's Square. Unfortunately haste led us a little off target and we ended up crossing the Tiber at the next bridge along from the Castle San't Angelo. However even this misadventure worked in our favour as in my opinion it gave us a far better view of the river than we'd had before.

I was charged with leading my intrepid band again when we hit Sienna. After a trip to the bell tower, we marched off to the statue of the Italian revolutionary hero - Garibaldi (which I had spied coming in on the coach and wanted to get a snap of for my Babylon 5 loving friends). This actually led us back to the car park... which was a little disappointing... but then we got to climb the remains of the old fort and got a great vantage point for looking at the town.

I really feel that these experiences brought out long hidden depths of my character. By nature I'm an explorer but experience has taught me to be far too cautious for my own good. If anybody bore a risk of burying their talent... it would be me. However, the lesson I feel God was teaching me most during the holiday was this:

Sometimes the path isn't always going to be clear... the roads you take in life and the places you visit, aren't always going to be obvious. Sometimes you just have to look at the map and decide that a certain feature looks worthy of taking a punt on... and set off into a degree of uncertainty as you make your way into the future. Maybe you'll merely end up in a car park... but along the way, think of the things you may discover. Nothing is wasted... nothing. A little courage reaps the greatest of rewards.... even if those rewards aren't always what you expect.

"In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps."

Proverbs 16:9

There are other things I'd love to tell you about Italy... my personal highlights and other things I learned or experienced, but I have a feeling some of that may be restricted to the Inner Sanctum. However if you would like to view a gallery of pictures I took, you can find them on Facebook and I will be trying to add them to Flickr at some point.

Blessings

Nick