Room 101

Oh to bash the face of Richard Madely right in,
but would that amount to an unforgiveable sin?
every tea time his unbearable smug face grin,
makes me want to imprison him in an airtight bin.

And what of Trinny and Susannah?
those queens of chic and well schooled grammar,
every time I see them I want to unfurl a banner,
'twenty pence a hit with a solid metal spanner.'

But don't let's talk about Piers Morgan,
Good ole Tony's slimiest fan,
He printed fake photos of war,
and praise the lord was shown the door.

And Monsieur Grudem from Ivory Tower heights,
He sits with his bible and bites,
At anyone who lives outside his little box,
especially those humans with long flowing locks.

So many people about whom to compose ditties,
But I fear my eyes are getting somewhat gritty,
Filled as they are with big logs of tree
I guess i'll keep going till i'm really me.

Sunrise on Mwiri

Soft cooing awakes the merry band from the deep,
pre-dawn chill swirls around
not quite kept at bay by hastily cobbled shirts,
sleep lingers on in conscious breath as we wander on.

Along red paths of loosed dust,
past huts of packed dirt,
we greet on the way those hoe handed
women whose hearts will not be cowed this day,
their greeting floats lyrically on the mist.

Up higher into moist forest and
the chatter of monkey play,
high up high their voices carry
beyond the twists and turns of mwiri hill.

Racing blood into cold extremity finds rests
atop old ancient mound. We find our spots for
Sun's arrival from wherever she's been.

We see distant lake Victoria glistening like shook foil
as fishermen in narrow barges return burdened,
with fresh scaly riches.

And quielty then Sun breaks over our earth,
and silence falls like softest snowflake,
A smooth flaming sphere held in the Almighty's hand
bringing hope of tears dried and better days to come.

We sit together
on Mwiri hill
for moments or hours.

El Dorado

Men set out from Iberia's western shore,
children all of Ferdinand and Isabella and pious
Roman Emperor, Maximillian. Pope Borgia sat in
Rome with women and song.

Fabled cities of gold held their hearts,

Hernan Cortes drove on through Mexico till
fearsome Sun of Light Moctezuma did he see,
By quirk of history and a flu, his hand held mighty Tenochtitlán
And Spain squeezed this city dry.

Rivers of blood from temple height,
had flown before that summer's night,
but new liquid did men of Europe seek,
that of gold and all its power to keep.

Under Pizzarro, the Incas fell to lay foundations for
modern Europe's land. And while monk Luther pinned
protests to Roman doors, Peter's sons did by bulls create
Gods from mere men.

And still they squeezed the precious gold from streets of Mexico
to men of war. They say 70 million died this way
from foreigners' sword and virus's play.
That gold that built a continent is burnished black,
with memories of brown man's broken back.

How modern are we, the civilised from sea to sea,
but what we need to hear is truth's hidden fee,
that our golden gaze breeds that same demonic haze,
that ruled the earth for three longest days.

And on our cultured European streets,
just as Cortes' clothed equine feet
our feet are cloved with finest leathered chic.

We fight and kill for Eldorado still.

Theology and Church

I have recently been going to the mid week bible study at our church. We have been working through the Christianity Explored materials from All Souls Langham Place. What has struck me most is the complete lack of theological literacy in the congregation, many of whom have been in the church for decades. Sure people might know the Bible stories and have some memory verse tucked up their selves but ideas of how to read the bible, an understanding of the cross etc are completely lacking. I say this not to have a go because this was my exact situation before i started formal theological study a few years ago, but to point out that the traditional half hour sermon doesn't seem to me to be delivering the kind of understanding which is able to undergird a faith that can articulate itself against the various cultural Caesars of our day.

Theology must be for the church and about the church. The fact that I had to go to a university accredited college to learn even the basic questions theology was seeking to answer might suggest that something has gone horribly wrong. That hermeneutics has moved from the pew and the pulpit to the university classroom is a travesty which has robbed the church of its own self understanding and the individual Christian confidence to handle the Bible without bowing to the guild of so called experts. No doubt there is great value in the study of critical methods and linguistic tools but unless theology empowers the church and the christian with a sense of self understanding, we are left with a sea of doubt and questions which only, in my experience, serves to foster anti-intellectualism

I have never experienced a decent catechism in a church setting. You become a Christian perhaps have a few baptismal classes and then you are left to survive in the world with a faith that is intellectually marginalised in the modern world with few resources other than a half hour sermon which can usually be summed up in two words; be nice, and a bible study which is more akin to a GCSE English class than real theology. No wonder charismatic churches mega churches seem to be growing; at least they offer some kind of resources to live as a Christian in the modern world.

But unless we start to teach people who they are and what they should be doing, can Christian faith face the challenges of a world which is questioning human sexuality, human biology, natural disasters, cyberspace reality etc without being castrated? I don't think that this means that everybody should know their Augustine from Aquinas or their Barth from Brunner but perhaps infusing an understanding of how the church is to understand itself and its mission might be a good starter for ten. Why do we meet on a Sunday for example? Because it is the first day of the week, the symbol of the new creation. Why do we give money publicly? No, not as some kind of fee for sitting in uncomfortable seats and the pleasure of singing hymns but as a sign of God's Lordship and a new way of living in love. Why gather at all in church? Because we are incorporated into the body of Christ at baptism so that we may be one as Jesus is one with the Father. Everything we do as Christians in church can overflow with theological meaning which if we just explored would give us such a story to tell the world - not in propositions but in acted out rituals and symbols. We sit on rituals such as baptism and eucharist and exchange their narrative power and cohesion for the world's stories.

SO this is the challenge - not to educate for the sake of it but give back the church her own story and understanding through the practice and creation of rituals and symbols full of meaning that invite people to question and explore their own identity. Perhaps opening our houses every Sunday lunch time for fellowship (again a word that has such a depth of meaning but which has become twee) would say more than a hundred sermons or blessings could say.