Today was Grandad's funeral, and I read this prayer to the small gathering of family and friends. I wasn't sure whether to post this, but it's all I can think of to say. We celebrated the life of an extraordinary person today and I was lucky to have known him.
Almighty God,
We stand here today in a time of grief and sorrow, in a season of darkness. This is the darkness of the end of the day, at the end of a bright day of joy and of laughter.
We have had the privilege of spending many such days with Hedley, our Grandad. We have never known a time when we couldn't look to him for support, advice and knowledge. Whether he was demonstrating the pressure in an aircraft, explaining how a barometer works or talking through the economic circumstances of the Wall Street Crash, he always made life seem so simple. There was nothing that couldn't be solved with a nice cup of tea or a quick lap of the garden in the old wheelbarrow. We acknowledge the precious gifts of life, love and family. We claim those gifts today and hold onto them for comfort in times of loneliness.
Almighty, ever-living and ever-loving God. You gave us promises of peace and eternal life - we claim those promises now for your children gathered here, for Hedley and for everyone whose life he touched with his quiet grace. We ask for perfect peace for all those who mourn with us. We ask this in the many names of God, whoever and however we perceive you to be.
God bless you, Grandad.
Amen.
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
Sunday, 7 February 2010
Review of Living it Out
I noticed a new review of Living it Out on Amazon today, which I thought I would share. I was really pleased to see that it remarks on how taboo it is to discuss mental health issues in many churches. This second paragraph struck me really strongly, and I hope she manages to go back to a church.
This is the book I was looking for all along. It doesn't rehash the 'is it scriptural, is it moral' debate. But it also doesn't skirt around it. Instead, it cuts right to the heart of how to live. I found a lot of comfort in reading about other people's experiences, and I was inspired by the creative ways they have found to move forward. I particularly appreciated the discussion of mental health problems- often another taboo topic within the church. I realised reading this book how much I'd given up on the whole church thing, but I feel hopeful now that I might be ready to give it another go- armed with the tips, ideas and resources from this book.
Saturday, 6 February 2010
The Wedding Planner
 |
| The bling |
So, here's to Tori and Luke!
Friday, 5 February 2010
Italian leftovers stew
I just improvised this, based on a vague memory of something Mum cooked once. It's very yummy.
Leftover stew for 2
2 chicken fillets
4 rashers bacon
Spinach (about 500g, fresh)
Mushrooms (various sizes and types, I think I used 3 portobello and a handful of button mushrooms)
1 tin chopped tomatoes
About half a jar of pesto
1 onion
A couple of cloves of garlic
Leftover stew for 2
2 chicken fillets
4 rashers bacon
Spinach (about 500g, fresh)
Mushrooms (various sizes and types, I think I used 3 portobello and a handful of button mushrooms)
1 tin chopped tomatoes
About half a jar of pesto
1 onion
A couple of cloves of garlic
- Cook the chicken in olive oil until it's sealed, and add the chopped onion and crushed garlic.
- Add the bacon and mushrooms, with a bit of pesto, and simmer for 5-10 minutes.
- Add the tomatoes, fresh herbs and black pepper and simmer for a further 10 minutes.
- Serve with pasta.
On angels
The word 'angel', though is so much more than that. The Greek is ἄγγελος (angelos), and this in turn has derived from translating the Hebrew (מלאך) mal'akh in the Septaguint. Both words mean 'messenger' in both sacred and secular contexts. An angel does not have to literally be a heavenly being sent from God to meet us and bring a message. Is it not angelic to speak the word of God into the world? Sometimes the right word at the right moment can change a life.
Last night, I was talking at great length to The Wife. I was feeling a little under the weather, and was beginning to doubt myself and, worse, God. Nothing he said could do more than reinforce the knowledge I was repressing within myself. I was so determined that I was going to feel bad about myself that I wouldn't let him in. Whilst we were talking, he was travelling by train. As he got up to get off the train, a woman who had been sat nearby passed him a piece of paper. On that paper, she had written a message that affirmed my worth in the eyes of God and The Wife's value as a child of God and a very dearly beloved friend. The fact that she had cared enough to write that note touched me very deeply. All my doubts seemed to melt away, and the pain just didn't matter. In that moment, she was nothing less than an angel of God, a messenger from my Father.
We may each be an angel to someone, whether we know them or not. I hope if I were ever called to be, I would have to courage to take that precious commission. I still pray for those people who have been angels in my life, and thank God for their ministry.
Friday, 29 January 2010
In a post-ex-gay world...
I'm a little behind the times with this one, I have to admit. Just over a week ago the Times published an article entitled The day I decided to stop being gay. The premise of the article is that a man who had previously lived an openly gay life (and, in his word, 'lifestyle'), including a committed relationship of ten years with another man, realised one day that he didn't think this was for him any more.
It's fascinating to read Patrick Muirhead's story, but I honestly don't understand how it led him to consider himself to no longer be gay. He talks very tenderly about the wonder he felt at the sight of a young boy holding hands with his dad, and that this made him realise that he didn't want to be gay any more. But is it really that simple?
I was struck by a number of things that he says that make me wonder if he is truly sure of his analysis or if he is in fact suffering from a very serious case of internalised homophobia. I began to wonder about this when I read this phrase;
I don't mean to go all pop psychology on you here, but forgive me a moment. That doesn't sound to me like a man who has realised that he is not gay, but one who feels he will somehow never be able to conform to a norm that he sees around him. He juxtaposes the father's "workman-like fist" not only with the child's small hand but also with his own desire to burst into song. He goes on to say, "That's love, folks", as though this beautiful expression of familial love is all there is to it. As if the entirety of the human experience of love can be boiled down to a "normal" man with his child.
Come to that, I have to question his assumption that the man in the hairdresser's salon was straight. Does having a "workman-like fist" and a beautiful son make you straight? Or is it that there aren't any gay people living in Kentish villages. Do enlighten me, Mr. Muirhead, I would love to know.
But, of course, the answer is there and ready.
I find it so hard to listen to someone who has been apparently living comfortably as openly gay to roll out the old "it's not natural" argument. Actually, I think you'll find that there is anthropological evidence that suggests that the role of couples who are unable to procreate (gay and straight) in many societies is precisely to adopt and care for the children who need them, sometimes co-parenting those children who would be otherwise without a family. Are those straight couples who "follow twisting paths to biological parenthood, often quite expensively, with the involvement of test tubes and cash changing hands" also undeserving of children? Do you believe that they are also a "snook to the system of nature"? Well, you should, it is no more natural.
What his argument seems to boil down to is this; that the "lifestyle" he embraced for many years now feels shallow. Join the club. It's called growing up. I'm not sure I'd want to go back to the days of "fumbling" and confusion about my sexuality, nor do I want to be eighteen and drinking myself into a giggling stupor in student gay nights whilst wondering why I'm still going home on my own at the end of the night. Those days are long behind me, and one day I'm sure I'll look back and wonder what possessed me at the age of 24 to still be spending long nights in Popstarz and writing a pompous blog. People change, that's one of the joys of life.
On which note, I must confess that I do believe that sexuality is not a fixed thing. There have been times in my life when I have wondered if I could date men after all. There have been moments when I've thought, like Patrick Muirhead seems to, that perhaps it was just that I spent too much time at a single-sex school. But at the end of the day, none of it matters. What matters is that I am self-aware enough to recognise love when I see it. If Patrick Muirhead were, like one of his former lovers, to fall for a woman and believe he wanted to marry her and start a family, you would not find me raising these concerns (although his characterisation of the "gay community" still falls far short of what I know to be true). I believe whole-heartedly that God intends for us to be in relationship - romantic or otherwise - with one another and that when someone finds the person they are meant to be with it doesn't matter what their gender or identity is. We are not called to judge.
I do worry, however, that Patrick Muirhead is going to be bitterly disappointed when he realises that it is not as simple as wishing to be straight. I hope that he finds the person he can fall in love and start a family with, and I hope it brings him happiness and he raises a wonderful family. But I hope he can do it without continuing to unjustly sling mud at a community he has chosen to reject. I wish him nothing but luck.
It's fascinating to read Patrick Muirhead's story, but I honestly don't understand how it led him to consider himself to no longer be gay. He talks very tenderly about the wonder he felt at the sight of a young boy holding hands with his dad, and that this made him realise that he didn't want to be gay any more. But is it really that simple?
I was struck by a number of things that he says that make me wonder if he is truly sure of his analysis or if he is in fact suffering from a very serious case of internalised homophobia. I began to wonder about this when I read this phrase;
I became transfixed by the sight of the boy’s tiny pink fingers gripping his father’s huge, workman-like fist. And I almost wanted to burst into song.
I don't mean to go all pop psychology on you here, but forgive me a moment. That doesn't sound to me like a man who has realised that he is not gay, but one who feels he will somehow never be able to conform to a norm that he sees around him. He juxtaposes the father's "workman-like fist" not only with the child's small hand but also with his own desire to burst into song. He goes on to say, "That's love, folks", as though this beautiful expression of familial love is all there is to it. As if the entirety of the human experience of love can be boiled down to a "normal" man with his child.
Come to that, I have to question his assumption that the man in the hairdresser's salon was straight. Does having a "workman-like fist" and a beautiful son make you straight? Or is it that there aren't any gay people living in Kentish villages. Do enlighten me, Mr. Muirhead, I would love to know.
But, of course, the answer is there and ready.
Gays have children these days, of course they do, and not always to accessorise an outfit. ... It is, really, a sort of snook to the system of nature. Shooting for the net without the chore of running with the ball. It’s just not for me.
I find it so hard to listen to someone who has been apparently living comfortably as openly gay to roll out the old "it's not natural" argument. Actually, I think you'll find that there is anthropological evidence that suggests that the role of couples who are unable to procreate (gay and straight) in many societies is precisely to adopt and care for the children who need them, sometimes co-parenting those children who would be otherwise without a family. Are those straight couples who "follow twisting paths to biological parenthood, often quite expensively, with the involvement of test tubes and cash changing hands" also undeserving of children? Do you believe that they are also a "snook to the system of nature"? Well, you should, it is no more natural.
What his argument seems to boil down to is this; that the "lifestyle" he embraced for many years now feels shallow. Join the club. It's called growing up. I'm not sure I'd want to go back to the days of "fumbling" and confusion about my sexuality, nor do I want to be eighteen and drinking myself into a giggling stupor in student gay nights whilst wondering why I'm still going home on my own at the end of the night. Those days are long behind me, and one day I'm sure I'll look back and wonder what possessed me at the age of 24 to still be spending long nights in Popstarz and writing a pompous blog. People change, that's one of the joys of life.
On which note, I must confess that I do believe that sexuality is not a fixed thing. There have been times in my life when I have wondered if I could date men after all. There have been moments when I've thought, like Patrick Muirhead seems to, that perhaps it was just that I spent too much time at a single-sex school. But at the end of the day, none of it matters. What matters is that I am self-aware enough to recognise love when I see it. If Patrick Muirhead were, like one of his former lovers, to fall for a woman and believe he wanted to marry her and start a family, you would not find me raising these concerns (although his characterisation of the "gay community" still falls far short of what I know to be true). I believe whole-heartedly that God intends for us to be in relationship - romantic or otherwise - with one another and that when someone finds the person they are meant to be with it doesn't matter what their gender or identity is. We are not called to judge.
I do worry, however, that Patrick Muirhead is going to be bitterly disappointed when he realises that it is not as simple as wishing to be straight. I hope that he finds the person he can fall in love and start a family with, and I hope it brings him happiness and he raises a wonderful family. But I hope he can do it without continuing to unjustly sling mud at a community he has chosen to reject. I wish him nothing but luck.
Thursday, 28 January 2010
Living it Out
This evening, Living it Out was launched at Waterstone's Gower Street. Sarah and Rachel were there to answer questions and read from the book.I was struck by a number of things when I first read Living it Out; the first was the sheer diversity of the contributors. As I had contributed myself, I wasn't sure what to expect. I was amazed, looking at the list spanning four pages at the front of the book, to see how many of the contributors are not L/G/B themselves, but are our allies. A 25 year old Anglican with gay friends, parents of L/G/B Christians, themselves of various denominations, even a vicar explaining honestly and frankly his work to include us in his worship.
There was nothing in the book that was negative; the experiences of the contributors were beautifully handled within the text to emphasise the healing and growth within their story. It is often easier for us, as people who have been hurt, to condemn those who disagree with us out of hand and subsequently to cause ourselves more bitterness and pain. It is wonderful to read stories that don't allow the reader to take that easy route. There is no anger here.
The title, also, reflects a core value of the book. Through the stories, Bible studies and reflections it becomes apparent that we are still called to live our faith authentically. That love is the most faithful witness of all, and that the example of those who stand unafraid to be themselves can inspire others to do the same.
Love does no harm to its neighbour. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.I've also been looking at the reviews in the last couple of days, and I found this review, which I was really pleased by. As someone from an Evangelical Anglican background (and, incidentally, raised in High Wycombe!), it's a joy to me to know that there are people in the church prepared to listen and disagree in love.
Romans 13:10
There's a prayer in the book that sums up what I want to encourage people to do after reading the book;
Emmanuel, God with us, you came to share our life. We pray that you would join us as we join together, sharing our laughter and tears, arguments and struggles, secrets and celebrations. Amen.
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