Indiana Jones is talking with Marion Ravenwood and a comment is made about how tired he feels and how old he is. “It’s not the years”, he says, “it’s the mileage”. How often it feels like that for us.
Preachers often talk about how the Christian life is a marathon, not a sprint, as if that were likely to encourage us. Why would 26 miles 385 yards feel more encouraging than 100 metres? I do not deny the truth of what has been said to us countless times from the pulpit or in “pastoral” conversations, however anyone will tell you that there are ways of saying things and ways of saying things.
I guess the words of Doctor Jones reflect how one would assess the likely longevity of a car. How many miles it’s done will be far more pertinent than how old it is. For us, it sometimes feels that we have grown weary in our Christian walk not so much because of how long we have been walking, but rather because in the course of walking we have been applying so much effort, straining to be better, harder working, holier, more humble, more patient, more forgiving. For me, “mileage” conjures up images not of having been a Christian for many years but rather of having spent those years striving and struggling, fighting and fussing, dithering and doubting.
It is not meant to be thus. God never intended for us to be worn out by our lives. On the contrary, the Christian life is offered to us an alternative to burdensome load of life without God. “Come to me all you are weary and heavily burdened and you will find rest for your souls. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me for I am gentle and humble in heart…for my yolk is easy and my burden is light”. Does that sound like hard work? Does that sound like a lot of effort? A marathon? Lots of mileage? Does it?
If your life as a Christian has begun to feel like a lot of hard work, like a lot of mileage, if it has felt that way for as long as you can remember, then something is badly wrong. This is not the life that God has called you to or saved you for. We undoubtedly work for God and try to live a life pleasing to Him, but always in his strength. Every breath we take and every step we make (I think I can hear The Police in the background) is for Him, but through Him as well. We ask Him what he would have us do, how we should spend our time and energy. The we ask Him for the strength, time and energy for what He would have us do and the humility to acknowledge that everything comes from Him and all of the glory and praise goes back to Him. That’s how God meant it to be – a vigorous, active, busy life, but never exhausting. A marathon in distance perhaps, but through Him we should arrive at the finish line full of strength, not crawling on our hands and knees (see my attempts to run the Windsor Half-Marathon for a helpful illustration of the distinction).
Friday, 9 July 2010
Monday, 5 July 2010
Adventurous
I have realised, in discussing this very subject with some lovely friends, that I do not have an especially pioneering, adventurous spirit. My lovely wife, Sal, is the adventurous type, always looking for the next exciting thing. I tend to be more routine-driven, stick with what I know, keep ticking along. Sounds hideously dull doesn't it?
I don't want life to be boring or tedious. I want to have fun and excitement, I'm just not sure how many surprises I have an appetite for. Surprises can be lovely (my wife presenting me with a surround sound system a few Christmasses ago, or throwing me a surprise birthday party) or unpleasant (the £600 service for the car back in April springs to mind, or the discovery that I was to be made redundant back in 2009) and maybe the occasions on which the surprise has been unpleasant have spoilt my appetite for them altogether. Maybe I have lost some of my appetite for adventure because I don't know what will happen and I would rather stick with what is predictable.
At this point I think I'm going to get a little "deeper" and consider something I often discuss with men and especially those who are facing difficult "should I press ahead into the unknown" type decisions. Dr Larry Crabb has written a number of books on Christian counselling and is himself a PhD psychologist. One of his books is called "Be Strong, Be Courageous" and is sub-titled "God's call to Men". It is hardly unique in being a book about what it means to be a man and what God has for and wants from men, however it does avoid suggesting that the most suitable path is to find the nearest wild boar and wrestle it to the ground before building a fire and using its blood as war paint. Instead, the book looks at how men tend to be wired when it comes to making difficult decisions that require us to advance into the unknown.
Dr Crabb describes two spheres, the sphere of management and the sphere of mystery. Apparently men tend to prefer the sphere of management, which is where we are confident, secure, competent and in control. It is here that we know what we are doing and how to do it, here that we can cope, here that everything is under control. By contrast, the sphere of mystery is seemingly chaotic. Nothing is under control, there are no easy answers, we do not know what will happen next and we are outside of our comfort zone, our area of competence.
An example might be (and due credit must be given to Dr Crabb for this example which is lifted wholesale from his book) a husband and father awoken during the night by a slamming front door who goes to the window to see his teenage daughter running down the road. What is she doing? What has happened? What does he do now? Doing something constructive, something purposeful, something manly requires a step into the sphere of mystery. He could wake his wife and ask her to pray with him. He could let her sleep and go after his daughter. He could sit on the front porch and wait for her. None of these are assured of success, but they are decisive steps that reflect the character of God in some fashion or another. But the paralysis sets in when considering which of these steps to take. A man who resolves to stay within the sphere of management will do nothing, because he is so fearful of doing the wrong thing. He will sit there, like a rabbit in the headlights, because he does not know what to do and is afraid to take a step into the dark, a step that may be wrong, a step that is not part of a guaranteed recipe for success, a step that fills him with dread because he is not in control. So what does he do? He could lie there worrying and fretting, he could wake his wife up and shout at her and blame her, he could go downstairs, make himself a stiff drink and watch something distracting or worse on the TV or computer. All of these would represent a retreat into the sphere of management. He knows where he is and what he is doing. He's not fixing anything, but he's not taking any risky steps either. He is not reflecting the character and call of his God.
I know that however I dress up my disinclination for adventure and my desire for routine, ultimately it represents weakness and fear. I'm not being unduly hard on myself in saying that, merely honest about my shortcomings. It is hard for me to be adventurous, hard for me to venture forth into areas of uncertainty, hard to take steps when I don't know how firm underfoot the ground will prove to be. Think of Indiana Jones at the end of The Last Crusade, challenged to leap from "the lion's head", seemingly into a bottomless abyss, only to find the path solid beneath him.
Very recently, it took no small measure of firm encouragement from my patient and loving wife for me to venture forth and broach a difficult subject with someone. I was concerned I might embarrass myself, might look foolish. I thought it might not go as I hoped, but that is the very nature of adventure. I do not know how it will go, I do not know the outcome. Life is not a recipe or formula, where x + y = z. It does not work like that and if I expect it to I will be endlessly frustrated and regressive. So I bit the bullet and broached the subject. The world did not come to and end, I did not get shouted at or laughed at or cried at. Life goes on and I have learned a little lesson about adventure. Not much of one, but it's a start.
God does not want me to shrink back, to worry whether he will come through if I trust in him. He wants me to persevere, take the big risks, trust him, press forward. I didn't shrink back from the gap year in Uganda God called me to in 1998, or run away from the bungee jump offered in 2001 and yet here I am in 2010 fretting about whether or not to embark on a potentially difficult conversation! How much ground I have lost. God grant me greater boldness and courage and the will to be decisive in moving forward to the things you have for me. Help me to take the steps I find difficult and to look for the opportunities and doors you would have me push open.
I don't want life to be boring or tedious. I want to have fun and excitement, I'm just not sure how many surprises I have an appetite for. Surprises can be lovely (my wife presenting me with a surround sound system a few Christmasses ago, or throwing me a surprise birthday party) or unpleasant (the £600 service for the car back in April springs to mind, or the discovery that I was to be made redundant back in 2009) and maybe the occasions on which the surprise has been unpleasant have spoilt my appetite for them altogether. Maybe I have lost some of my appetite for adventure because I don't know what will happen and I would rather stick with what is predictable.
At this point I think I'm going to get a little "deeper" and consider something I often discuss with men and especially those who are facing difficult "should I press ahead into the unknown" type decisions. Dr Larry Crabb has written a number of books on Christian counselling and is himself a PhD psychologist. One of his books is called "Be Strong, Be Courageous" and is sub-titled "God's call to Men". It is hardly unique in being a book about what it means to be a man and what God has for and wants from men, however it does avoid suggesting that the most suitable path is to find the nearest wild boar and wrestle it to the ground before building a fire and using its blood as war paint. Instead, the book looks at how men tend to be wired when it comes to making difficult decisions that require us to advance into the unknown.
Dr Crabb describes two spheres, the sphere of management and the sphere of mystery. Apparently men tend to prefer the sphere of management, which is where we are confident, secure, competent and in control. It is here that we know what we are doing and how to do it, here that we can cope, here that everything is under control. By contrast, the sphere of mystery is seemingly chaotic. Nothing is under control, there are no easy answers, we do not know what will happen next and we are outside of our comfort zone, our area of competence.
An example might be (and due credit must be given to Dr Crabb for this example which is lifted wholesale from his book) a husband and father awoken during the night by a slamming front door who goes to the window to see his teenage daughter running down the road. What is she doing? What has happened? What does he do now? Doing something constructive, something purposeful, something manly requires a step into the sphere of mystery. He could wake his wife and ask her to pray with him. He could let her sleep and go after his daughter. He could sit on the front porch and wait for her. None of these are assured of success, but they are decisive steps that reflect the character of God in some fashion or another. But the paralysis sets in when considering which of these steps to take. A man who resolves to stay within the sphere of management will do nothing, because he is so fearful of doing the wrong thing. He will sit there, like a rabbit in the headlights, because he does not know what to do and is afraid to take a step into the dark, a step that may be wrong, a step that is not part of a guaranteed recipe for success, a step that fills him with dread because he is not in control. So what does he do? He could lie there worrying and fretting, he could wake his wife up and shout at her and blame her, he could go downstairs, make himself a stiff drink and watch something distracting or worse on the TV or computer. All of these would represent a retreat into the sphere of management. He knows where he is and what he is doing. He's not fixing anything, but he's not taking any risky steps either. He is not reflecting the character and call of his God.
I know that however I dress up my disinclination for adventure and my desire for routine, ultimately it represents weakness and fear. I'm not being unduly hard on myself in saying that, merely honest about my shortcomings. It is hard for me to be adventurous, hard for me to venture forth into areas of uncertainty, hard to take steps when I don't know how firm underfoot the ground will prove to be. Think of Indiana Jones at the end of The Last Crusade, challenged to leap from "the lion's head", seemingly into a bottomless abyss, only to find the path solid beneath him.
Very recently, it took no small measure of firm encouragement from my patient and loving wife for me to venture forth and broach a difficult subject with someone. I was concerned I might embarrass myself, might look foolish. I thought it might not go as I hoped, but that is the very nature of adventure. I do not know how it will go, I do not know the outcome. Life is not a recipe or formula, where x + y = z. It does not work like that and if I expect it to I will be endlessly frustrated and regressive. So I bit the bullet and broached the subject. The world did not come to and end, I did not get shouted at or laughed at or cried at. Life goes on and I have learned a little lesson about adventure. Not much of one, but it's a start.
God does not want me to shrink back, to worry whether he will come through if I trust in him. He wants me to persevere, take the big risks, trust him, press forward. I didn't shrink back from the gap year in Uganda God called me to in 1998, or run away from the bungee jump offered in 2001 and yet here I am in 2010 fretting about whether or not to embark on a potentially difficult conversation! How much ground I have lost. God grant me greater boldness and courage and the will to be decisive in moving forward to the things you have for me. Help me to take the steps I find difficult and to look for the opportunities and doors you would have me push open.
Thursday, 6 May 2010
Publishing Error
This is far from the first commentary on Zoo magazine and the detestable comment made by Danny Dyer in a recent "agony aunt" page. Indeed, such is the speed with which the blogosphere seems to move these days, my comments probably seem thoroughly after the event.
For those not yet up to speed, Danny Dyer is an actor, TV presenter and now Zoo Magazine contributor. Someone wrote into the magazine asking for advice on how to get over an ex-girlfriend and Danny Dyer's advice was to cut her face so that no-one will want her any more.
Zoo magazine have published an unequivocal apology and said they will make a donation to Women's Aid (http://www.womensaid.org.uk/).
The comment by Mr Dyer was described as a "Publishing Error" (hence the title of this blog), which will surely go down as one of the greatest circumlocutions of all time. A publishing error? Someone endorses horrific violence and it is passed off as an error? The comments section on Zoo's website is growing by the hour. I won't include a link, as the website's content is gratuitous and sleazy to say the least, but the trend of the comments is satisfying - "I will be cancelling my subscription", "this apology is inadequate", "you need to include an article in the next issue on the problems of violence against women", "Danny Dyer and the Editor need to go". At least no-one is condoning the comment, or trying to justify or explain it away.
The reality is that lads magazines present a real problem in terms of the view and treatment of women that they perpetuate. To log into the comments section of Zoo's website you have to state your gender, except it is "bird" for women. It seems to me that this says it all. If anyone demonstrates an approach to women that objectifies them, treats or dismisses them as inferior and reduces them to an image for the sexual gratification of others then that is how those on the receiving end will see them and treat them. If someone keeps telling me that women are there to be used and abused then in the absence of any counter-balancing influences I am at risk of taking that attitude on board.
Now, we all, myself included, have to take responsibility for how we perceive and treat people. I cannot say, "Zoo and Nuts say women are meat and no-one told me different so that's why I behave this way". I have a responsibility to form a correct view of women, to treat them correctly and respectfully and not to blame the representations of others for my own attitudes. But I can help myself along the way by avoiding negative influences and embracing positive ones. I can avoid the top shelf, I can avoid Nuts, Zoo, Loaded and the rest. I can choose to see women in the correct light and to communicate the right attitudes to my children, especially my sons, so that they will grow up to respect women as well and treat them correctly.
But back to Zoo and its absurd apology. What was printed was not a publishing error. It was a publishing action. Words were typed up, proof-read, approved and printed. An error is something done by mistake, this bears all the hallmarks of deliberate action. If the error, or flaw lies anywhere it lies in the character of people who not only think this sort of thing, but commit it to print as well. Whether the reasoning was as cynical as "no publicity is bad publicity" or "this will get people talking" I cannot say, but there is something profoundly wrong in the heart of someone who will write such a thing. It's not funny, or ironic, or un-reconstructed. It is dangerous, moronic, horrific, misogynistic.
I have said plenty of stupid things in my time, things I wish I could take back, things that have hurt others. For what it's worth, I think the apology from Zoo should be in big bold type on the front page of their magazine, with no scantily-clad women as a distraction and it should read as follows:-
"I cannot apologise enough for what I printed. It not only displays a deeply disturbing attitude towards woman, it draws into question fundamental issues in my character. I am not sure what the comment I made says about my heart, but I will not contribute anything to any magazine or television programme until I have sought counselling. I will also spend time with victims of violence so as to better understand the realities of something I wrote about so flippantly. My comments were included in the magazine as a shameless exercise in self-publicity and every penny spent on the issue of this magazine in which my comments appeared will be donated to Women's Aid". That seems to me to be a good start.
I am sorry this is all a bit self-righteous. I cannot claim to have never treated women as objects. I have not always steered clear of objectifying representations of women. But I am not sure we need to be perfect in order to be able to point out what is wrong around us. I cannot critique culture from the point of view of "I'm perfect and you should be like me", but I can surely from the point of view of, "I've done things wrong and I am at times guilty of what I am condemning, but it IS wrong and it needs to change".
For those not yet up to speed, Danny Dyer is an actor, TV presenter and now Zoo Magazine contributor. Someone wrote into the magazine asking for advice on how to get over an ex-girlfriend and Danny Dyer's advice was to cut her face so that no-one will want her any more.
Zoo magazine have published an unequivocal apology and said they will make a donation to Women's Aid (http://www.womensaid.org.uk/).
The comment by Mr Dyer was described as a "Publishing Error" (hence the title of this blog), which will surely go down as one of the greatest circumlocutions of all time. A publishing error? Someone endorses horrific violence and it is passed off as an error? The comments section on Zoo's website is growing by the hour. I won't include a link, as the website's content is gratuitous and sleazy to say the least, but the trend of the comments is satisfying - "I will be cancelling my subscription", "this apology is inadequate", "you need to include an article in the next issue on the problems of violence against women", "Danny Dyer and the Editor need to go". At least no-one is condoning the comment, or trying to justify or explain it away.
The reality is that lads magazines present a real problem in terms of the view and treatment of women that they perpetuate. To log into the comments section of Zoo's website you have to state your gender, except it is "bird" for women. It seems to me that this says it all. If anyone demonstrates an approach to women that objectifies them, treats or dismisses them as inferior and reduces them to an image for the sexual gratification of others then that is how those on the receiving end will see them and treat them. If someone keeps telling me that women are there to be used and abused then in the absence of any counter-balancing influences I am at risk of taking that attitude on board.
Now, we all, myself included, have to take responsibility for how we perceive and treat people. I cannot say, "Zoo and Nuts say women are meat and no-one told me different so that's why I behave this way". I have a responsibility to form a correct view of women, to treat them correctly and respectfully and not to blame the representations of others for my own attitudes. But I can help myself along the way by avoiding negative influences and embracing positive ones. I can avoid the top shelf, I can avoid Nuts, Zoo, Loaded and the rest. I can choose to see women in the correct light and to communicate the right attitudes to my children, especially my sons, so that they will grow up to respect women as well and treat them correctly.
But back to Zoo and its absurd apology. What was printed was not a publishing error. It was a publishing action. Words were typed up, proof-read, approved and printed. An error is something done by mistake, this bears all the hallmarks of deliberate action. If the error, or flaw lies anywhere it lies in the character of people who not only think this sort of thing, but commit it to print as well. Whether the reasoning was as cynical as "no publicity is bad publicity" or "this will get people talking" I cannot say, but there is something profoundly wrong in the heart of someone who will write such a thing. It's not funny, or ironic, or un-reconstructed. It is dangerous, moronic, horrific, misogynistic.
I have said plenty of stupid things in my time, things I wish I could take back, things that have hurt others. For what it's worth, I think the apology from Zoo should be in big bold type on the front page of their magazine, with no scantily-clad women as a distraction and it should read as follows:-
"I cannot apologise enough for what I printed. It not only displays a deeply disturbing attitude towards woman, it draws into question fundamental issues in my character. I am not sure what the comment I made says about my heart, but I will not contribute anything to any magazine or television programme until I have sought counselling. I will also spend time with victims of violence so as to better understand the realities of something I wrote about so flippantly. My comments were included in the magazine as a shameless exercise in self-publicity and every penny spent on the issue of this magazine in which my comments appeared will be donated to Women's Aid". That seems to me to be a good start.
I am sorry this is all a bit self-righteous. I cannot claim to have never treated women as objects. I have not always steered clear of objectifying representations of women. But I am not sure we need to be perfect in order to be able to point out what is wrong around us. I cannot critique culture from the point of view of "I'm perfect and you should be like me", but I can surely from the point of view of, "I've done things wrong and I am at times guilty of what I am condemning, but it IS wrong and it needs to change".
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
Money money money
I get so cheesed off with money. It can do so much good, can change the lives of people so easily (for better or worse) and yet it and attitudes to it can be so destructive.
Sal and I seem to have struggled with money the whole of our married life. God has been so faithful with pay rises, unexpected gifts, provision from unlikely places and the support of family and friends and yet I continue to get so frustrated with money. We seem to be genetically incapable of working off our overdraft and staying in the black, we seem unable to say "no" to things we cannot afford and then get cross and stressed when we see "OD" before we are a week into the month.
My solution, unsurprisingly, tends to be to try to organise my way out of it. If I can budget a bit tighter, move this money around, cut back on this, then we'll get there. Not exactly the life of faith I am called to, not exactly life in all its fullness either.
God never promised me I would be wealthy, he never promised me that I would be free from financial worries, but he has promised me that he will never leave me or forsake me and that he will supply all my needs. Instead of trusting in those promises and looking to God in faith, I try to sort it out myself, despite being unable to and despite the relentless experience of the past few years of my efforts not working.
At my cousin's wedding a couple of years ago, I said to my Dad that I did not believe that our financial problems would be alleviated until I learned to trust God, that God was looking for me to have faith in him rather than trying to simply be more organised. I feel no further along that journey. Indeed, I shared the same sense with a friend at the pub last night. I cannot fix this, I cannot sort it out. Only God can. If I trust in him, he will never fail me.
I need to stop stressing and start trusting. Of course I need to be disciplined with my money and show good stewardship with what God has entrusted to me, of course I need to discern how I should use what I have to honour God and say no to what I cannot afford. But the call is to faith, to trust, to seeking God and finding peace, provision and fulfillment in him. Pray for me.
Sal and I seem to have struggled with money the whole of our married life. God has been so faithful with pay rises, unexpected gifts, provision from unlikely places and the support of family and friends and yet I continue to get so frustrated with money. We seem to be genetically incapable of working off our overdraft and staying in the black, we seem unable to say "no" to things we cannot afford and then get cross and stressed when we see "OD" before we are a week into the month.
My solution, unsurprisingly, tends to be to try to organise my way out of it. If I can budget a bit tighter, move this money around, cut back on this, then we'll get there. Not exactly the life of faith I am called to, not exactly life in all its fullness either.
God never promised me I would be wealthy, he never promised me that I would be free from financial worries, but he has promised me that he will never leave me or forsake me and that he will supply all my needs. Instead of trusting in those promises and looking to God in faith, I try to sort it out myself, despite being unable to and despite the relentless experience of the past few years of my efforts not working.
At my cousin's wedding a couple of years ago, I said to my Dad that I did not believe that our financial problems would be alleviated until I learned to trust God, that God was looking for me to have faith in him rather than trying to simply be more organised. I feel no further along that journey. Indeed, I shared the same sense with a friend at the pub last night. I cannot fix this, I cannot sort it out. Only God can. If I trust in him, he will never fail me.
I need to stop stressing and start trusting. Of course I need to be disciplined with my money and show good stewardship with what God has entrusted to me, of course I need to discern how I should use what I have to honour God and say no to what I cannot afford. But the call is to faith, to trust, to seeking God and finding peace, provision and fulfillment in him. Pray for me.
Monday, 15 March 2010
Pitch Black
I haven't forgotten my new blogging manifesto from a few weeks back, my promise not to waste my time and words on trite matters. I'm not going to witter endlessly about how cool the aliens are in Pitch Black. I have slightly loftier ambitions than that.
For those of you who who haven't seen it, Pitch Black is a sci-fi film from 2000, starring Vin Diesel (star of The Fast & The Furious, XXX and a bunch of other stuff very few of us have seen) as a convict being transported on a freighter along with some random passengers, when it is forced to crash land by a meteor shower that catastrophically damages their ship.
The planet they land on has three suns and therefore permanent daylight. This is fortunate, since light-sensitive creatures live underground who like the taste of human flesh and have very sharp teeth and claws. An abandoned human settlement with a transport ship is found and with it, the prospect of escaping from this hostile, dry planet. All they need to do is take the energy cells from their stricken ship and transfer them to the new vessel. Oh and then there is a solar eclipse, which brings the light-sensitive beasties up to the surface for a feeding frenzy.
If that all sounds like typical B-movie shlock, then to an extent it is. However, there are some genuinely thought provoking moments that bear some consideration.
Firstly, towards the end, one character who is one of the few who can pilot the ship is offered a chance by Vin's character to leave the remaining survivors behind but refuses the opportunity.
"Would you die for them?" says Vin. "I would try for them", she replies. "Answer the question", he insists. "Yes", she relents, "I would die for them". It is not clear to what extent he is moved by her attitude to change his own course, but rather than abandon all of them, he agrees to go back and help rescue the remaining survivors. A hardened, violent criminal, inspired by the example of selflessness he sees in another to change his course and live more sacrificially.
The remaining survivors make it back to the ship and Vin gets cornered by two of the underground creatures. Although he survives their attack, he is badly injured and the pilot come back for him, to help him back to the ship. Sadly, she is then grabbed herself and dragged off into the darkness. "No!" Yells Vin, "not for me!" He knows what kind of man he is, what kind of life he has led, how undeserving he is of this sacrifice, that it would cost someone their own life to save him. He almost cannot live with the idea that someone would do that for him, when he knows what sort of man he is.
But grace and compassion are like that. They do not look to what we deserve, but what we need. We may find it hard to look at the sacrifice of another for our benefit and struggle to accept it. "Not for me!" We cry, "I'm not worth it. I cannot live with the knowledge that though I deserved nothing you still did this for me". But He did. He did it anyway and we can only sit back in awe and then move forward in gratitude, humbly offering our lives in His service as a thank offering.
For those of you who who haven't seen it, Pitch Black is a sci-fi film from 2000, starring Vin Diesel (star of The Fast & The Furious, XXX and a bunch of other stuff very few of us have seen) as a convict being transported on a freighter along with some random passengers, when it is forced to crash land by a meteor shower that catastrophically damages their ship.
The planet they land on has three suns and therefore permanent daylight. This is fortunate, since light-sensitive creatures live underground who like the taste of human flesh and have very sharp teeth and claws. An abandoned human settlement with a transport ship is found and with it, the prospect of escaping from this hostile, dry planet. All they need to do is take the energy cells from their stricken ship and transfer them to the new vessel. Oh and then there is a solar eclipse, which brings the light-sensitive beasties up to the surface for a feeding frenzy.
If that all sounds like typical B-movie shlock, then to an extent it is. However, there are some genuinely thought provoking moments that bear some consideration.
Firstly, towards the end, one character who is one of the few who can pilot the ship is offered a chance by Vin's character to leave the remaining survivors behind but refuses the opportunity.
"Would you die for them?" says Vin. "I would try for them", she replies. "Answer the question", he insists. "Yes", she relents, "I would die for them". It is not clear to what extent he is moved by her attitude to change his own course, but rather than abandon all of them, he agrees to go back and help rescue the remaining survivors. A hardened, violent criminal, inspired by the example of selflessness he sees in another to change his course and live more sacrificially.
The remaining survivors make it back to the ship and Vin gets cornered by two of the underground creatures. Although he survives their attack, he is badly injured and the pilot come back for him, to help him back to the ship. Sadly, she is then grabbed herself and dragged off into the darkness. "No!" Yells Vin, "not for me!" He knows what kind of man he is, what kind of life he has led, how undeserving he is of this sacrifice, that it would cost someone their own life to save him. He almost cannot live with the idea that someone would do that for him, when he knows what sort of man he is.
But grace and compassion are like that. They do not look to what we deserve, but what we need. We may find it hard to look at the sacrifice of another for our benefit and struggle to accept it. "Not for me!" We cry, "I'm not worth it. I cannot live with the knowledge that though I deserved nothing you still did this for me". But He did. He did it anyway and we can only sit back in awe and then move forward in gratitude, humbly offering our lives in His service as a thank offering.
Thursday, 11 March 2010
Fathers
I confess that the first I heard of this man getting a life sentence for fathering 9 children (7 of whom still survive) with his two daughters, was when the findings of a major case review were published yesterday. Apparently over the course of 25 years they fell pregnant 19 times, with 9 full-term pregnancies and then 2 newly born deaths. Horrendous, horrific, disturbing.
The case review was focused on the failings of agencies and institutions who perhaps should have identified what was happening within this family and done something about it. The names of the family members have been omitted in order to preserve anonymity, understandable with both daughters and their seven children still living with the devastating truth of what has happened.
It makes me want to cry. I am not so naive as to think that such things do not happen, that such behaviour is not possible. I know it is, but on a personal level I cannot fathom how a father would act in such a way. He will be branded an "evil man", no doubt. Perhaps even "inhuman" or "a monster". I've lost my temper with my kids plenty of times, been frustrated with them as I suppose all fathers do from time to time. But how does one get from that to the fate of Family Q? Labelling the father evil or inhuman may help to distance him from the rest of "normal" society, may help reassure us that he is an aberration and does not reflect on the rest of us, but the reality is that whatever happened to him as he grew up, whatever influences were exerted on him that helped to shape/mould/warp/mutate his character, he was once a helpless newborn baby, just like the rest of us.
What happened? No-one wakes up one morning and decides to become abusive. These things must surely fester, grow, develop. What happened to him? I'm not trying to excuse him. To suggest that he is a victim in all of this, that he could not help it because of the way he was brought up would be a ghastly simplification and a possible excusing of behaviour that was in some way, at some point, a conscious decision. What he did was horrific, inexcusable and all of my sympathies lie with his daughters, his son and the seven children who came into the world in the some of the most horrendous circumstances imaginable. I have prayed for God's grace and peace and healing to be with them, for the pain, the scars, the trauma to heal. I do not know them so I can do no more, but perhaps even if I did know them there would be nothing better I could do for them.
I don't know what the future holds for them, or what the rest of his life holds for the father. Does he now understand that what he did was wrong, the most horrific betrayal of his role as a father? Does he see no wrong in himself? I know that God is just and the judge of all mankind and will do what is right. Beyond that, I do not understand.
I hugged and kissed my children a lot yesterday, much more than usual. I told them that I love them and will continue to say it, mean it and show it. They are so precious to me and so much of their life, especially as grown ups will trace its roots back to how I raise them now. I have an awesome responsibility, an opportunity to help shape their lives and characters in the most profound way. Like the day my daughter first appeared in the kitchen in her ballet outfit and asked me, with eyes all expectant, "how do I look Daddy?" So much hung on my next words and thank you God, I got it right that day.
My God's grace be with all of us to be the men, the fathers God has made and called us to be. May our children be blessed to have us and may they feel the impact of our fatherhood throughout their lives.
The case review was focused on the failings of agencies and institutions who perhaps should have identified what was happening within this family and done something about it. The names of the family members have been omitted in order to preserve anonymity, understandable with both daughters and their seven children still living with the devastating truth of what has happened.
It makes me want to cry. I am not so naive as to think that such things do not happen, that such behaviour is not possible. I know it is, but on a personal level I cannot fathom how a father would act in such a way. He will be branded an "evil man", no doubt. Perhaps even "inhuman" or "a monster". I've lost my temper with my kids plenty of times, been frustrated with them as I suppose all fathers do from time to time. But how does one get from that to the fate of Family Q? Labelling the father evil or inhuman may help to distance him from the rest of "normal" society, may help reassure us that he is an aberration and does not reflect on the rest of us, but the reality is that whatever happened to him as he grew up, whatever influences were exerted on him that helped to shape/mould/warp/mutate his character, he was once a helpless newborn baby, just like the rest of us.
What happened? No-one wakes up one morning and decides to become abusive. These things must surely fester, grow, develop. What happened to him? I'm not trying to excuse him. To suggest that he is a victim in all of this, that he could not help it because of the way he was brought up would be a ghastly simplification and a possible excusing of behaviour that was in some way, at some point, a conscious decision. What he did was horrific, inexcusable and all of my sympathies lie with his daughters, his son and the seven children who came into the world in the some of the most horrendous circumstances imaginable. I have prayed for God's grace and peace and healing to be with them, for the pain, the scars, the trauma to heal. I do not know them so I can do no more, but perhaps even if I did know them there would be nothing better I could do for them.
I don't know what the future holds for them, or what the rest of his life holds for the father. Does he now understand that what he did was wrong, the most horrific betrayal of his role as a father? Does he see no wrong in himself? I know that God is just and the judge of all mankind and will do what is right. Beyond that, I do not understand.
I hugged and kissed my children a lot yesterday, much more than usual. I told them that I love them and will continue to say it, mean it and show it. They are so precious to me and so much of their life, especially as grown ups will trace its roots back to how I raise them now. I have an awesome responsibility, an opportunity to help shape their lives and characters in the most profound way. Like the day my daughter first appeared in the kitchen in her ballet outfit and asked me, with eyes all expectant, "how do I look Daddy?" So much hung on my next words and thank you God, I got it right that day.
My God's grace be with all of us to be the men, the fathers God has made and called us to be. May our children be blessed to have us and may they feel the impact of our fatherhood throughout their lives.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Chaos and Upheaval
It has been a momentous few days. An online glitch with the Playstation 3 led to some online contributor calling yesterday, "the day the earth stood still". Meanwhile, there is "chaos" amongst the Pussycat Dolls, as two of their members leave. Like I said, a momentous few days, but I have hope that we will come through this time of turmoil intact and find ourselves stronger for having steadfastly endured such turbulent times. Gamers will hopefully not have lost any online trophies they have accumulated and fans of The Pussycat Dolls will still be able to enjoy their back-catalogue and maybe, who knows, find another band to follow and appreciate.
For heavens sake people, is this what qualifies for news, calamity and upheaval these days. Do we remember Haiti? A few weeks ago, nearly quarter of a million people died and although the news has moved on, no doubt the lives of Haitians remain as chaotic, miserable and problematic as ever. Hundreds have died in Chile, millions remain displaced in Darfur. For the love of God, let's focus our lives, our energy, our thoughts, our time on something of genuine significance. By all means enjoy playing games and listening to pop music, but have some perspective. At a time when so many are suffering so much, the question of whether two men are going to shake hands or not when they meet is of less than no importance.
For heavens sake people, is this what qualifies for news, calamity and upheaval these days. Do we remember Haiti? A few weeks ago, nearly quarter of a million people died and although the news has moved on, no doubt the lives of Haitians remain as chaotic, miserable and problematic as ever. Hundreds have died in Chile, millions remain displaced in Darfur. For the love of God, let's focus our lives, our energy, our thoughts, our time on something of genuine significance. By all means enjoy playing games and listening to pop music, but have some perspective. At a time when so many are suffering so much, the question of whether two men are going to shake hands or not when they meet is of less than no importance.
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