Little Old Wine Drinker Me…

I was going to call this ‘lip up fatty’ but I did’t want to risk offending any of my larger readers. The thing about alcoholics is that they can’t always tell when you are having a go (that was a joke btw).

The reason for this is of course the ‘news’ on the radio this morning that if we overeat or drink too much or smoke, then we are mor likely to get cancer. Steps back in amazement. None of these things give you cancer of course, we still don’t know what causes it, but you are more likely to get it.

What they are saying is that if you live a relatively healthy, balanced lifestyle and don’t overindulge in things then your body is less likely to rebel and none of those little cells will rebel and flip over to the dark side taking any number of its mates with it.

Hasn’t western science come a long way! We have nearly caught up with eastern scientific thinking of about 3000 (?) years ago. The Chinese have long been espousing the yin and yan of life, the striking a balance, maintaining an equilibrium. What’s more they have developed tools and techniques to assist them in this. Of course our modern scientists have condemned things like acupuncture and homeopathy, claiming that there is no scientific reason why they should work like they are claimed to, so therefore they mustn’t work.

One of the key strains to much of what we do and much of what we dicuss in BCLC is about maintaining balance in life. This is no coincidence. We all know the feeling of over doing it a bit on whatever is out favoured vice, but we also know the pleasure that can bring as well and as long as we strive to get the balance right then, I believe, we have more chance of a fuller and (hopefully) longer lasting life.

I’m so bored with the USA

Well I just got back and I wish i’d never been now(“where d’ya go?”). Actually that isn’t strictly speaking 100% true. I have just got back from America, but I am quite glad that I went. I didn’t want to go but then that is another story. I won’t bore you with the reasons for my trip, mostly business but I did get the chance to have a few drinks (I believe they say ‘party’) with some people along the way so it wasn’t all work.

I did spend some time speaking with what can only be described as the ‘religious right wing’ although to look at them you would never think so. Here were 2 young people (19 and 23) who were an item (though abstaining until marriage from doing the dirty deed) and who both held views I would normally ascribe to someone twice or three times their age. What’s worse it is people like these who hold the the destiny of the free world in their hands.

The pro-life lobby could quite easily get to decide who gets in the white house at the next US election. That’s right, what is ostensibly a group of religious fanatics will determine who gets to send their armies out to fight, well, religious fanatics. What century are we living in? Is this the utopian democracy that Bush feels compelled to force into places like Iran and Iraq to stop the people being oppressed by… err religious fanatics (there it is again)?

I am, and always will be, pro-life. But not like these people, not putting the rights of an unborn child over those of a fully formed human being. Abortion is not pleasant but it happens and it happens for a reason and most of the time that is a good reason and it is not entered into lightly

Apparently, according to the pro-lifers, only God can chose in matters of life and death. Well I reckon that God made his choice when he gave us free will and it is up to us to use that freedom for the good of everyone, both alive and yet to be alive. That means we have to make tough choices, like when to have a baby and when not, like the grown up, free thinking beings God made us to be.

It’s all over now baby blue

I do try to sometimes just watch the telly without thinking of metaphors for the demise of the church. Last night I watched the BBC4 Arena programme featuring Bob Dylans 3 appearances at the Newport folk festival. As a massive Dylan fan this was quite a treat. I had read many times about these concerts and to see them in such good condition was thrilling.

Dylan was indeed a musical genius, always one step ahead of those around him. When Medger Evers was killed by a white rascist in the early 60s there was a plethora of songs written about the victim, Dylan chose to see it from the killers side, declaring that he too was a victim of a system that was in white folks interests to maintain at any cost.

He was loved at Newport, he was their hero, championing a musical movement that prior to this time had the likes of Peter Paul and Mary singing ancient English songs about outlaws being hanged or Pete Seegers lamenting the plight of the negro in the 19th century slave industry.

Dylan made it cool to be a folky.

And then he plugged his guitar in and started protesting in different ways about different things and how did they treat him? What support did they give the man who had for all intents and purposes was American Folk music? None. They booed him off the stage until he came back with his acoustic guitar, seemingly humbled back into the Dylan they wanted to see. But this was a different Dylan, one who had moved on and was not going back.

“…the vagabond who’s rapping at your door,

is standing in the clothes that you once wore.

Strike another match go start a new.

And it’s all over now baby blue”

Priceless

Harvest for the World

Yesterday was our harvest festival. My wife did the service and a very good job she did too.

I do have a problem with the whole harvest thing, especially when we sing ‘We plough the fields and scatter’. Apart from the obvious fact that 99.9% of us don’t, that hymn is so full of holes I could write a whole blog entry about it.

Harvest, to me, is just another example of how out of touch with the rest of the world the church is. It is trying to maintain its cosy little existence in which God paints wayside flowers, lights evening stars and sends us soft refreshing rain.

For a lot of people the world is a grey, dark place and when it rains it pours.

What does our harvest say to them?