Today, as with so many recent days, it rained, and this, coupled with various email received from friends, cycling team-mates and loved ones, led me to reflect on the problem of suffering.
In his poem ‘The Rainy Day’ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-82) concluded Into each life a little rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
These words were possibly inspired by the premature death, in childbirth, of his first wife, Mary Potter, but in any case later proved to be prophetic for the great man as he lost his second wife, Frances Appleton, in even more tragic circumstances when she accidentally set herself alight. Longfellow never really recovered from this second tragedy and took to his bed for long periods, too scared to sleep in case of not waking.
I've been very lucky with my health generally but I have always felt that when these human indignities are thrust upon us it tends to steel our spirits in a necessary way. Each time we suffer makes the next time just a little easier and we become more aware but more tolerant of our mortality. I remember when my dad sat me down a few years ago to discuss the merits of whether he should bother having surgery for cancer as he didn’t much fancy the treatment and knew that his restricted oesophagus and reduced stomach capacity would mean the loss of his gourmet lifestyle. To me he seemed to be taking an almost business-like approach to his life but I now know it was just the wisdom of advanced age and the human mechanism to rationalise and come to terms with the finite term we experience on Earth.
My dad is still going strong in his 88th year having made the right decision.
Coincidentally I have today received updates about several friends who are struggling through that despicable burden of ill-health. Mark and John have cancers, Sue is in a hospital bed not responding to any stimuli, Mario is worried that his wife Suzanne’s cancer has returned and Luke has had to have his right arm amputated after a mystery virus created complications.
May I ask anyone who reads this blog to pray earnestly for all of the above, with a repentant heart, as I believe the repentant heart has great power. In Luke 13 Jesus talks of the certainty of death of unrepentant sinners. You see it is all just a timing difference. We may die today or tomorrow but we shall hardly ever die when we, or our loved ones, are ready. The repentant sinner shall never die according to Jesus.
An earlier line in Longfellow’s ‘The Rainy Day’ goes Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining. The man truly knew the nature of suffering. All things must pass and indeed some tragedies are played out with joyous endings.
I have a friend who broke his back falling out of a tree. He is in constant pain and his paralysis has worsened over the years to the extent that he now requires 24-hour care and is confined to bed for long periods. Despite this Brian always has a joke to brighten your day and is an inspiration to all and sundry. He would actually tell you it was the best thing that ever happened to him as he didn’t really like the path his life was taking before that fateful day.
My brother Kevin had a similar accident to Longfellow’s second wife Frances, last year. He survived and visited me from his home in Ibiza this last Christmas.
It rained and then the sun shone.
Sunday 25 January 2009
Soap Opera Continuity
Having always been a fan of kitchen-sink drama I do occasionally dip into the nation’s favourite soaps Eastenders and Coronation Street. In recent years my enthusiasm has been tempered somewhat by a mixture of unbelievable storylines and little or no continuity. To me it shows scant disrespect for the viewing public.
To give recent examples of each of these misdemeanours might serve to highlight the waywardness of the respective writing teams.
Jack Branning and ‘tough guy’ Phil Mitchell had an altercation two years ago resulting in Phil duping his mother into signing over the car lot to Jack. This in itself was totally unbelievable as Phil had already ‘sorted out’ Jack in the past and is hardly the sort of bloke to roll over and play pussy. The premise was meant to be that Phil ‘got lucky’ the first time around but now Jack was ready for him………………… I ask you!
All was not lost I thought as Phil vowed vengeance on this dastardly lowlife former bent copper who had dishonoured him and, worst of all, his family. The retribution was going to be swift and bloody as everyone in the world knows “you do not mess with the Mitchells!”
Almost two years on and Jack and Phil have become almost bosom pals, teaming up in their fight against the even more dastardly Psycho Sean. Even when Jack’s brother Max solicited Phil’s help to make Jack ‘disappear’ Phil did not rise to this obvious opportunity to settle old scores.
Yes I know Jack Branning is a good character and the writers are loathe to kill him off but they should have thought of that before jeopardising his character’s existence.
A good example of an unbelievable storyline is the present Carla/Tony/Liam ménage à trois. Of course the viewer is privy to the information that Tony had Liam bumped off (literally), but when Maria tells all and sundry that Tony confessed to her is there no one with the nous to give her the benefit of the doubt as she is hardly a straitjacket case and the clues are there as Sir David Frost might say. Surely Carla would have a long meaningful chat with Maria in order to make sense of the death of the love of her life. What sort of friend is Fizz to simply dismiss her mate’s earnest pleas. Even normally supportive brother Kirk is seen constantly kowtowing to Saint Tony by apologising for his errant sister’s foolhardiness. And as for Norris…….well he has been a victim of Tony’s menacing threats first hand so you’d think he’d put two and two together and come up with four, especially in light of the disappearance of Jed Stone.
Perhaps Kevin might even suspect that the man who sabotaged his business is not likely to gain imminent beatification.
Again, I know Tony is a strong character and the writers are trying to prolong his soap life but please can we have just a hint of reality in our storylines.
To give recent examples of each of these misdemeanours might serve to highlight the waywardness of the respective writing teams.
Jack Branning and ‘tough guy’ Phil Mitchell had an altercation two years ago resulting in Phil duping his mother into signing over the car lot to Jack. This in itself was totally unbelievable as Phil had already ‘sorted out’ Jack in the past and is hardly the sort of bloke to roll over and play pussy. The premise was meant to be that Phil ‘got lucky’ the first time around but now Jack was ready for him………………… I ask you!
All was not lost I thought as Phil vowed vengeance on this dastardly lowlife former bent copper who had dishonoured him and, worst of all, his family. The retribution was going to be swift and bloody as everyone in the world knows “you do not mess with the Mitchells!”
Almost two years on and Jack and Phil have become almost bosom pals, teaming up in their fight against the even more dastardly Psycho Sean. Even when Jack’s brother Max solicited Phil’s help to make Jack ‘disappear’ Phil did not rise to this obvious opportunity to settle old scores.
Yes I know Jack Branning is a good character and the writers are loathe to kill him off but they should have thought of that before jeopardising his character’s existence.
A good example of an unbelievable storyline is the present Carla/Tony/Liam ménage à trois. Of course the viewer is privy to the information that Tony had Liam bumped off (literally), but when Maria tells all and sundry that Tony confessed to her is there no one with the nous to give her the benefit of the doubt as she is hardly a straitjacket case and the clues are there as Sir David Frost might say. Surely Carla would have a long meaningful chat with Maria in order to make sense of the death of the love of her life. What sort of friend is Fizz to simply dismiss her mate’s earnest pleas. Even normally supportive brother Kirk is seen constantly kowtowing to Saint Tony by apologising for his errant sister’s foolhardiness. And as for Norris…….well he has been a victim of Tony’s menacing threats first hand so you’d think he’d put two and two together and come up with four, especially in light of the disappearance of Jed Stone.
Perhaps Kevin might even suspect that the man who sabotaged his business is not likely to gain imminent beatification.
Again, I know Tony is a strong character and the writers are trying to prolong his soap life but please can we have just a hint of reality in our storylines.
Saturday 3 January 2009
Don't be Surprised by Joy
Sometimes in the bleak mid-winter months my mind turns to contemplation of shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings.
As a new year starts and the stark waves of mortality wash through my brain I appraise what’s gone before, what is now and what is to come – for me - and for you.
For myself – at this moment in time - I feel that incredible emotion that CS Lewis described so beautifully in several of his works – Joy. Those three simple letters, which score so well at Scrabble (in almost any company) can be a Christian’s most potent defence against the vicissitudes of life. God in his wisdom withholds it from his children at some moments, and in his mercy pours it out on them at others.
Joy is at the heart of Christianity – it is that blessed gift that compels men and women into the fellowship of the Cross and transforms a wide, diverse throng of sad, lonely pilgrims into a community full of faith, hope and charity. In John 15: 11-12 Jesus says to His disciples “These things have I spoken unto you, that My joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full. This is My commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you”. These words ultimately brought a motley gang of proud and competing sinners together into a fellowship of joy.
To understand Joy further I must hark back to the celebrated Clive Staples Lewis (Jack to his friends).
He distinguished joy from both happiness and pleasure. “Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again. Apart from that, and considered only in its quality, it might almost equally well be called a particular kind of unhappiness or grief. But it is a kind we want. I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. But then Joy is never in our power and pleasure often is”.
Jack Lewis gave many examples of joy and almost all contained a defining characteristic of longing—a deep yearning or poignant desire for something agonizingly elusive. Just as one’s pleasure in spring contains a memory of winter longings, joy for Jack Lewis always contained "the stab, the pang, the inconsolable longing". This underlying quality of joy was "that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction."
The German language has a word for this emotion - sehnsucht. This is the haunting longing that full, heavy, enveloping nostalgia for a fulfillment that awaits.
I have experienced this feeling many times in my life. At church mainly but in everyday life it might even be a smell – of leather as a reminder of my first day at school and my sparkling new satchel, or of something I know not what. Yes I have a smell from time to time that I have never been able to work out what it actually is, but whatever it is that I smell I am transported back to my childhood and an attic room in Limerick with a treasure chest moneybox and key in my hand, whereupon I first wondered what that magnificent odour was.
The really merciful times I have experienced this wonderful feeling of joy is when everything seems to be dark and gloomy and I am either feeling sorry for myself or for someone else.
I am immediately reminded of King Solomon’s words in Ecclesiastes 1 and how he came to realise that although he had experienced every pleasure available to mortal man it was all just vanity and man’s propensity to strive after wind. The end of this verse goes like this “For in the abundance of wisdom there is an abundance of vexation, so that he that increases knowledge increases pain”. This applies to many bright people I know but only the Christian ones are shielded from their pain by this gift of joy. It is this gift that allows someone who has suffered great human tragedy, perhaps the loss of a loved one, to come to terms with their suffering.
I have lost several friends this past year. It began with Jeremy and then Francis, and then John and then Audrey. The year before a great Christian man died. I had read his book which was a testimony of a Christian pastor. I had only met the man once, at the Whyteleafe Pentecostal Church, and he had given me a great laugh with his dancing and hopping about while still managing to say goodbye to a friend of his. He was full of joy you see.
After he died I visited his widow, Joan, and although not surprised at her reaction to her husband’s death, I was heartened by her faith that he was now with other saints who had slipped from this mortal coil. Joan showed me old photos and spoke with such joy that he was now fulfilled. But as I left she explained that although she felt joy at this particular moment she had also shed tears for her beloved husband. You see that is how joy is given to us by God.
It can be a respite from pain and grief.
Jack Lewis was even blessed enough to have married his joy, Joy Gresham to be precise – now how cool is that!
At the funeral of all four of those I mention above I felt an overwhelming joy at the celebration of life. At Jeremy’s humanist funeral I looked around at others I knew and I shared their grief for a personality which was simply irreplaceable. For Francis it was the same solidarity and love for someone we knew was a gentle man in every sense of the word.
John Piper was my old headmaster and I felt real grief to begin with that this great man went largely unheralded. But then the joy cut in. I remembered how I had knocked the top of my finger off playing football and how he had driven me to the hospital after his secretary had fainted at the sight of the bone sticking up. John waited with me all evening and right through the operation. Apparently he had always had a soft spot for me since my first year when I was awarded a 5/- book token for coming top in Maths, English and French but he had refused to hand out my selected choice of book, the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (my affinity with CS Lewis was already apparent it seems), as it was far too childish for a 12-year-old young man!
Audrey was a tough one on the surface. She had always treated me like a son and I was invariably invited to all the family bashes. I was also friends with all her four sons, Wayne my ex-hurdles training partner and golfing buddy had tragically taken his own life a few years earlier, Mark had become business man extraordinaire, Tony was now a successful Manchester poet and Dave was/is and always will be one of the most special guys in the whole world. Audrey had suffered from mental health problems in recent years and this illness had alienated her from many old friends but magically everyone remembered the kind and loving Audrey we all knew for so long. I was touched by joy that day too.
This Christmas my brother Kevin came home from Ibiza for the first time in many years. It was an exhilarating time for me but tinged with great sadness as unlike him I was unable to enjoy the company of others in my family at this time. I initially felt pangs of grief but this was taken away and replaced by joy. Joy for everyone’s happiness and delight – mine too. You see, I know everyone is fit and well and happy and so all is right with the world.
Now all we need to do is experience joy through this latest credit-crunch. Read more books instead of clubbing it – not mine necessarily – give up the booze, stop smoking, cycle perhaps instead of using the car. Forget the rat race for a while. Try praying some time, read the Bible, give church a go. All these things are economically viable and can be very joyful.
As a new year starts and the stark waves of mortality wash through my brain I appraise what’s gone before, what is now and what is to come – for me - and for you.
For myself – at this moment in time - I feel that incredible emotion that CS Lewis described so beautifully in several of his works – Joy. Those three simple letters, which score so well at Scrabble (in almost any company) can be a Christian’s most potent defence against the vicissitudes of life. God in his wisdom withholds it from his children at some moments, and in his mercy pours it out on them at others.
Joy is at the heart of Christianity – it is that blessed gift that compels men and women into the fellowship of the Cross and transforms a wide, diverse throng of sad, lonely pilgrims into a community full of faith, hope and charity. In John 15: 11-12 Jesus says to His disciples “These things have I spoken unto you, that My joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full. This is My commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you”. These words ultimately brought a motley gang of proud and competing sinners together into a fellowship of joy.
To understand Joy further I must hark back to the celebrated Clive Staples Lewis (Jack to his friends).
He distinguished joy from both happiness and pleasure. “Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again. Apart from that, and considered only in its quality, it might almost equally well be called a particular kind of unhappiness or grief. But it is a kind we want. I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. But then Joy is never in our power and pleasure often is”.
Jack Lewis gave many examples of joy and almost all contained a defining characteristic of longing—a deep yearning or poignant desire for something agonizingly elusive. Just as one’s pleasure in spring contains a memory of winter longings, joy for Jack Lewis always contained "the stab, the pang, the inconsolable longing". This underlying quality of joy was "that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction."
The German language has a word for this emotion - sehnsucht. This is the haunting longing that full, heavy, enveloping nostalgia for a fulfillment that awaits.
I have experienced this feeling many times in my life. At church mainly but in everyday life it might even be a smell – of leather as a reminder of my first day at school and my sparkling new satchel, or of something I know not what. Yes I have a smell from time to time that I have never been able to work out what it actually is, but whatever it is that I smell I am transported back to my childhood and an attic room in Limerick with a treasure chest moneybox and key in my hand, whereupon I first wondered what that magnificent odour was.
The really merciful times I have experienced this wonderful feeling of joy is when everything seems to be dark and gloomy and I am either feeling sorry for myself or for someone else.
I am immediately reminded of King Solomon’s words in Ecclesiastes 1 and how he came to realise that although he had experienced every pleasure available to mortal man it was all just vanity and man’s propensity to strive after wind. The end of this verse goes like this “For in the abundance of wisdom there is an abundance of vexation, so that he that increases knowledge increases pain”. This applies to many bright people I know but only the Christian ones are shielded from their pain by this gift of joy. It is this gift that allows someone who has suffered great human tragedy, perhaps the loss of a loved one, to come to terms with their suffering.
I have lost several friends this past year. It began with Jeremy and then Francis, and then John and then Audrey. The year before a great Christian man died. I had read his book which was a testimony of a Christian pastor. I had only met the man once, at the Whyteleafe Pentecostal Church, and he had given me a great laugh with his dancing and hopping about while still managing to say goodbye to a friend of his. He was full of joy you see.
After he died I visited his widow, Joan, and although not surprised at her reaction to her husband’s death, I was heartened by her faith that he was now with other saints who had slipped from this mortal coil. Joan showed me old photos and spoke with such joy that he was now fulfilled. But as I left she explained that although she felt joy at this particular moment she had also shed tears for her beloved husband. You see that is how joy is given to us by God.
It can be a respite from pain and grief.
Jack Lewis was even blessed enough to have married his joy, Joy Gresham to be precise – now how cool is that!
At the funeral of all four of those I mention above I felt an overwhelming joy at the celebration of life. At Jeremy’s humanist funeral I looked around at others I knew and I shared their grief for a personality which was simply irreplaceable. For Francis it was the same solidarity and love for someone we knew was a gentle man in every sense of the word.
John Piper was my old headmaster and I felt real grief to begin with that this great man went largely unheralded. But then the joy cut in. I remembered how I had knocked the top of my finger off playing football and how he had driven me to the hospital after his secretary had fainted at the sight of the bone sticking up. John waited with me all evening and right through the operation. Apparently he had always had a soft spot for me since my first year when I was awarded a 5/- book token for coming top in Maths, English and French but he had refused to hand out my selected choice of book, the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (my affinity with CS Lewis was already apparent it seems), as it was far too childish for a 12-year-old young man!
Audrey was a tough one on the surface. She had always treated me like a son and I was invariably invited to all the family bashes. I was also friends with all her four sons, Wayne my ex-hurdles training partner and golfing buddy had tragically taken his own life a few years earlier, Mark had become business man extraordinaire, Tony was now a successful Manchester poet and Dave was/is and always will be one of the most special guys in the whole world. Audrey had suffered from mental health problems in recent years and this illness had alienated her from many old friends but magically everyone remembered the kind and loving Audrey we all knew for so long. I was touched by joy that day too.
This Christmas my brother Kevin came home from Ibiza for the first time in many years. It was an exhilarating time for me but tinged with great sadness as unlike him I was unable to enjoy the company of others in my family at this time. I initially felt pangs of grief but this was taken away and replaced by joy. Joy for everyone’s happiness and delight – mine too. You see, I know everyone is fit and well and happy and so all is right with the world.
Now all we need to do is experience joy through this latest credit-crunch. Read more books instead of clubbing it – not mine necessarily – give up the booze, stop smoking, cycle perhaps instead of using the car. Forget the rat race for a while. Try praying some time, read the Bible, give church a go. All these things are economically viable and can be very joyful.
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