Virtual Methodist

  It has been a long while. Busy-ness followed by a blessed period of avoiding busy-ness and my computer, but this reflection has been rumbling around for a while, perhaps because my morning starts have not been so frantic  of late.  For years I've loved the above version of the African American Spiritual "In that Great Getting Up Morning" by the operatic sopranos Jessye Norman and Kathleen Battle recorded at the Carnegie Hall. I have never, however, been much of a morning person, yet in his letters to the Corinthians and Thessalonians when writing about the resurrection uses the image of waking up in response to a trumpet reveille... In my mind, the only thing worse could be bagpipes... But then a couple of days ago at a funeral for a wonderful man who loved literature, his niece read the short poem "Resurrection" by Vladimir Holan  which shares some of my antipathy to a rapid, raucous entry into a new day, even an eternal one... So in the light of that I finis

Like clockwork... An assortment of stored-up slights, Both actual and imagined. Anticipated catastrophes with varying degrees of probability; Thwarted ambitions, Alternative life courses, And the mundane challenges of The never-ending, everyday to-do list. These, and a host of other demons, Each one unremarkable, but Together a dark legion, Have once again, Pitched camp, With no nearby Herd of swine available As an alternative host, or a Clifftop plunge to commend to them. Shalom

Since 2013 the beginning iof summer In earnest for me and Sally has been marked by the summer concert of one of our local primary schools, Botanic. Its a gloriously diverse school socio-economically, ethnically, religiously, and it has a excellent musical tradition. Unfortunately for the past 3 years due to covid the concert has not happened and music lessons have been radically curtailed. Senior pupils have not had the chance of performing publicly before, younger pupils have not had older performers to aspire to, and the school has not yet been able to re-establish an orchestra. So last night's concert at Fitzroy was curtailed in comparison to pre-covid times, without some of the genuinely virtuoso performances we have seen previously, but no less joyous, for all the participants, parents, grandparents, miscellaneous other relatives and assorted hangers-on like Sally and me. The children's performances of perfectly chosen pieces, were enhanced by the eager searching out of fa

A few days ago in the wake of the resignation of the dishonourable MP for Uxbridge and South Ruislip, I reposted a piece from a few years ago when he was at his barnstorming worst, using his expensive education and carefully curated speaking style to create division. How we use words is important, because ultimately they can do much more damage that "sticks and stones." However, it is also important that we focus on the positive rather than the negative, drawing on those who inspire rather than those who infuriate. My mind was drawn to one such over the past few days because the Irish Council of Churches rep at our annual conference, Dr. Joan Back, passed me a copy of this month's "New City" magazine, which is a publication of the Focolare movement to which she belongs. She wanted me to have it because they had printed the poem/prayer below, which I originally published in this blog in 2017 but which was later included in "Doodlings and Doggerel

What we see around us is reflective of our interior terrain. Haiku is a good way of processing that... A fresh day begins. Sunshine cuts through tall pine trees With a chilling breeze. Selah

Before I go any further with this, here is a health warning. This is not for those who want a sugary, sunshiny, instant uplift. But then, anyone who actually knows me will know that I (and this blog) are rarely the place to go to for that. However, this is NOT a post of unmitigated misery, hopelessness and despair. Indeed it is a actually a plea for an antidote to that. It does however come out of one of my periodic low moods... The causes of this are partly biological but also a function of circumstance, both personal AND looking at a society and world that is not in fine fettle. Given my tendency to focus on the negative, that could result in despair and cynicism. I am not optimistic, but like Archbishop Desmond Tutu, "I am a prisoner of hope." Which is why the titular word of this blog appeals to me. Throughout lockdown one of my "sanity-saving" discoveries was the "Something Rhymes with Purple" podcast by Countdown's Susie Dent and name-dropper-in-