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Anarchristmas

‘Bloody warm weather!’ Yakob grumbled, sweat streaming down his face, as he threw the plastics in the truck. ‘I thought December would make this job a bit bearable.’

Sam grunted. He wheeled three bins upto the truck. The waste truck crunched and grated through the remains of the people’s consumption through the festive time.

Yakob continued the complaint. ‘As usual, it’s just us the binmen working our arses off when everyone’s partying.’ Sam came close to mentioning the police and the hospital staff but thought the better off it.

‘Yes, sing with joy you fools! Sing lies to numb your brain and kill your damn soul!’ Yakob ranted at a strain of singing that somehow reached them through the grating. Sam stopped and tried to listen. Peter put his head out of the truck cabin and killed the engine. The sudden silence from gears and levers and the singing that they heard made all three men hold their breath.

‘Who is singing?’ Peter asked jumping from the truck. Sam saw the group standing on the pavement, swaying, clapping and singing with an energy that no X factor contestant could muster.

‘Postmen.’ Yakob stated.

All three men laughed. It was. Their uniforms glinted of the street lights and as they moved and sang they radiated a chaotic unity of beauty.

‘Mate! Me thought you’s all on holiday’ Peter hollered at the group.

A few hands waved and the grooving mass walked towards them. The three men felt a bit threatened at this strange mob bearing on them. The jolly postmen reached them and they could make out the beat boxing, the harmonies and the full throated singing that made the great sound.

‘Crazy man!’ one of the postmen reached out his hand for a high five. Yakob despite himself gave it. ‘Don’t believe all you hear!’ He grooved.

‘Lovin’ is believin’. With that he put a piece of paper in Sam’s hand.

‘We’re headin’ for a party, yeah? See you there!’

A post truck appeared from nowhere and the jolly postmen tumbled in without missing a note or a beat and they disappeared.

The paper had seen better days. Sam read out,

‘This is where it’s at. Peace is where it is. This is where peace is at.’

The nonsense of it all made the men laugh. This was the second time tonight. They had never laughed together like this before.

Peter saw the address. ‘What? Isn’t that where…?’

‘Yes’ Yakob said, ‘but…’

‘We’ve been invited.’ Sam decided for all of them.

The rubbish was left. The truck felt unbearably light in Peter’s hand as they zoomed through the dark deserted post party streets.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

‘Penge? That’ll be £150 please.’

‘What?’ The first suit almost shrieked.

‘Yes, that address is risky at this time of night and it’s right opposite where I live,’ the taxi driver drawled.

Karl was incensed. Ari tried calming him down.

‘Look we have to get there now.’ The other three nodded glumly.

They climbed in the car.

‘If we are wrong…’ Sophie started

‘then there is no problem,’ Karl interrupted.

‘But all these years of research?….’ Ari queried

‘If all the years of research produces this, then we will be laughed out of any life we ever had.’ Jackie laughed.

Karl’s face darkened further. The taxi sped through the streets that blinked light upon the car from the lights of the festivities.

‘Strange isn’t it’ said Michael who had been quiet so far. ‘All our working lives, this is what we wanted. When we met each other and started this project it felt as though the project itself started us off. And we worked so hard. And now… at the cusp of finding and seeing what we’ve toiled for, it feels so pointless. Even if we are right how can we convince anybody?’

Silence descended in the car which was rudely interrupted by the driver’s ipod playlist booming through the back of the car.

‘Stop it!’ Screamed Karl. The driver shrugged and resumed his ear breaking activities.

‘We did all the calculations. We did them several times. We went through every process. We even relearnt our research methodologies. But this is what we’ve got. This is the alignment. So we go.’ Ari was clear. She went on, ‘It does mean though a lot of people will be unhappy. If this is right then a lot will have to change. And face it. We don’t like change.’

‘And yet,’ Jackie pointed out, ‘Lots more will be happy. This really will be a brilliant gift to society. Just a matter of convincing them. So have we got everything?’

‘Money, cameras, forms, memory sticks… yes.’ Sophie had as usual remembered.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The last note sounded. She immersed herself in it. She felt the note gaining inflections she hadn’t know before. She circular breathed the note for what seemed forever. The note gentle grew softer and stopped. Her lips left the mouth piece. Her eyes opened. There was no one there. Anna sighed. But she remember the note and smiled. She looked down to her case. Not bad. Could’ve been better. Maybe it was the recession. Thankfully it was warm. Busking in the cold was no joke with a wind instrument. Maybe Simon had better luck.

It turned out that Simon didn’t fare well at all. His voice had almost gone. He managed to croak some greetings to Anna. They headed back home.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Peter parked the truck and the three men got out. They heard the familiar sound of the singing they had just heard. Except now it seemed so gentle. A warm December breeze blew on them. They saw the sign.

Drop in centre

As far as Sam was concerned this was where the lazy and irresponsible sponged off the kindness and hard work of others. Surely people should just get on with life instead of getting kicked out of the system. Today he felt different. Maybe there was much more to this.

The three went in. It was bright. Sam didn’t think halogens and energy savers gave off this kind of light. Maybe he was just tired. There was a postman or two standing around and he could hear the rest humming somewhere in the building.

There were all sorts of folk sitting around drinking coffee and in the corner there seemed to be a few people helping a young girl. She was sobbing. A baby was crying.

‘She juff gave birff!’ A toothless man grinned at them.

‘Fum immigrant typsh. Dey found her on de freet. Got her in here and pop! Oopfy baby!’ He guffawed at himself. ‘Ambulanf fuppofed to be on itf way.’

They realised that the young girl was crying with relief and happiness. The baby was now feeding. There were two ladies next to her making sure she was allright.

A car screeched to a halt outside. They heard arguing outside and a car revving off.

Five very smartly dressed people walked in. Everyone stared at each other. There was silence.

A sax went off. In walked Anna and Simon (for they often dropped in) Simon trying to sing while Anna soloed. There was a cacophony of hoots and shushing as half the crowd got into the festiveness while the other half were more concerned about the baby who came off the breast and screamed before he was gently led back to it.

As the binmen and the 5 academics stood awkwardly a jolly postlady pushed a try of coffee and cake amongst them.

They sipped their coffee and nibbled at the cake in awkwardness and one of the ladies next to the girl called out.

‘Hey strangers! Come and look at life.’

The baby had finished feeding and was sleeping. The three binmen and the 5 academics walked forward. They knelt to get a better look.

‘What you calling him, love?’ Simon croaked from the back.

The girl slowly comprehending the English, through her tearful eyes said, ‘Manuel.’

And they heard a siren.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

Anarchristmas

ana – again or re-

anarchy – the breakdown of human systems.

 

Haven’t

Posted for a bit. I had applied for a Masters course and in the rush all the material I needed to link to were most conveniently on this blog. Well now I know that I haven’t got in I can start posting again

Entering the darkness

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I’ve been standing just beyond the light of my past staring into the darkness. Now I feel as though I could be entering it.

Music has been a presence through my life. I had many brilliant opportunities, to play with some of the best, to be great friends with the great people, to travel, laugh and to enter many different worlds. Over the last few years though I’ve  hated music. I just couldn’t listen to the damn thing. The music in the churches I attended was the worst time of the week. I dreaded it, relieved when the last faltering chord was played.

Then I managed to do the Lent Project. It allowed me to try new things. It allowed me to think anew. I felt I was on the move again. And I’ve put in an application to do a music course. But I have no idea where I’m going. I don’t feel God is there. I have no idea how any of the ideas I have are going to hit the ground. But I’m grateful. I have people who support me. I’m not sure whether they’ll be with me in the darkness. I’m not sure whether God is at the end of the darkness. Maybe God is the darkness I’m entering.

Hell’s not worth it

Lot of heat about hell has happened over the last few months. I’ve found it hugely frustrating as an army of apologists and doctrinal experts take a firing position against so called heresy. It’s purposeless. People will believe what they wish to believe. A popular book doesn’t change belief. It mostly fires imagination and confirms or refutes already existing belief.

So in that vein I’m just going to outline where I am at the moment.

My imagination about hell is mostly around C.S Lewis’ various views about the subject. So in the Great Divorce hell is England on a bad day which will eventually be destroyed. Interestingly enough the wise character who explains everything in the book is George Macdonald who was allegedly a Christian Universalist. In the Last Battle hell exists only in the minds of dwarfs who cannot hear or see heaven or Aslan even though they are right next to him and sitting in Alsan’s new Narnia.

I don’t think I could venture any further than these images that C.S. Lewis gives.

And I don’t think we are meant to have any more clarity than that. I definitely DON’T believe in an eternal conscious torment. That would be God’s ultimate defeat for his creation. New earth, new heaven but same old hell. Or is it going to be a brand new hell? That shall exist along with the new earth and heaven?

I think the amount of time hell has taken up conversation isn’t worth it. First of all it barely features in the Old Testament (once in Daniel). So immediately that should make us a bit wary. If it’s not really in the Old Testament is it that important? All other features of the gospel that most Christians preach have definitive Old Testament/New Testament cross overs.

Even within the New Testament as a whole it is minimally dwelt upon. The New Testament talks far more about living the new life in Jesus, justice, money etc.

The whole of the bible’s focus is towards the new life. It’s emphasizes the beauty of the new creation that has already been begun in Jesus. That is where the focus lies. From the promise to Noah, to Abraham to Jacob, to Moses through to the great prophets it God’s awesome new world that’s the focus. Instead of this, huge amounts of evangelical Christendom focus on sexuality and hell.

Why can’t there be evangelism without hell? Isn’t the person of Jesus, beautiful, awe inspiring and fully enough to inspire evangelism?

Yet I won’t say that hell isn’t there or has no place. I have to respect what scripture has. And it has a lot of crazy stuff in it. Obviously I can’t fit it all in. Neither am I going to chuck it all out. But in terms of the amount of hot air, heated discussions and the heaping of coals on people’s heads, it’s not worth it.

They

They came at night
with their weapons.

They took the Messiah
and they killed him.

There was no real trial
No real justice.

The powers watched on
and the people jeered.

And they threw his body in the sea.

Sky in the blood

It’s been a bad 10 days. Haven’t been able to work. Haven’t been able to do anything of any real worth. There was an internal implosion within me which made no sense. I was going along ok and the Boom! Everything just stopped. It’s been a difficult time with a family member of ours as well.

So this Sunday I didn’t want to go to church. I quite enjoy our church services. Not sure why but I’m just happy to be there. But this Sunday I didn’t want to be there. I gritted my teeth through the music and tried to listen to what was a very interesting sermon on our responsibility to the environment but just felt alien.

We went up to communion and after having the bread, the body of Christ, I reached out to take the cup from the server of the wine, the blood. As I looked into the cup I saw the sky.

Our church building has a large set of glass windows up behind the communion table. So when I looked in I saw the reflection of the sky. A fairly mundane observation. But at that moment it became very special. To see the open sky with its wise, gentle clouds, when looking down into the cup of red wine at that moment gave me hope.

The Spirit works like that. An ordinary set of physical phenomena is transformed into something special and wonderful for that instant.

Yes, I saw the sky in the blood.

Rapture Dumps

It’s been a difficult week.

I’ve often wished I wasn’t here.

Maybe that’s what the rapture is all about.

Not wanting to be in the here and now.

It is nicer to exist elsewhere.

Or so the lie goes.

Jesus does the crazy thing and jumps into the here and now.

Or he did a while back.

Now his Spirit jumps in and out of the here and now.

The here and now, boring and mundane, seemingly

is holy.

I hear babbling from the other room. Rapture or Pentecost?

Lent : Reflections on doing 40 pieces

The idea of doing this came in a conversation about struggling with prayer. My friend Drew (who is doing his doctrate)  said that his thesis was his prayer as of now. Having struggled with prayer for a few years I found it enormously profound and comforting. I didn’t have to spout or think meaningless words. I could do something more meaningful. So I thought I would try and do 40 pieces for Lent as a way praying.

So in some senses the compositions and putting them up was an act of prayer. Initially I had hoped that I would do the 40 pieces before Lent and put them up. However being as disorganised as I am that didn’t work. I must also add that I didn’t compose all 40 through each day of Lent. I’m sorry if I gave that impression.

Of the 40 pieces, 3 were old ideas (10, 16, 35) which I hadn’t put down in any form before. Twelve of them (2, 3, 4, 7, 15, 28, 29, 31, 32, 33, 34, 40) were ideas that I worked on in the 3 weeks before Lent started. However when Lent started I felt quite ill for 4 days and later we had to go to Spring Harvest for 5 days. So most of the ‘normal’ days I was generating a piece from scratch. I was also doing an evening composition course in 20th century music during this time and piece 36 was one I did as an assignment for that and piece 30 was inspired from the course itself.

Lent is supposed to be for 40 days starting Ash Wednesday. However Sundays can be taken as a break. Other traditions go right through the Sundays end Lent before Palm Sunday where passion Week starts. So I was putting up six pieces a week.

I was reflecting on the desert and the wilderness through these pieces and put up short reflections to go along with them. Interestingly enough more people read the posts than listened to the music. This was a bit disappointing. I do feel that the written word holds too much sway over Christian spirituality. But then in many ways it’s easier to read about something than actually engage with the object itself. So I know that I like to read about God rather than engage with him. I love reading about scripture rather than read scripture itself. So a good lesson there.

The songs came through various means. Most of the time an idea came and as I developed it I would ask myself what is this piece saying in context of the desert. Occasionally I looked at a passage or had an intentional thought and wrote the piece accordingly.

Reason and Record really made the process of putting up the music much easier. And soundcloud was absolutely brilliant for putting up music. I haven’t even started scratching the surface of what is possible with soundcloud. Anyone in music should ditch their myspace page and get onto soundcloud!

Finishing the project was very difficult as I felt drier and drier. But I was quite pleased with the last piece. Quite a few people seemed to like it. I even got a mention in Maggi Dawn’s blog.

The first thought on finishing the 40th piece at 2 am on Easter Saturday was : ‘I wish the bloody neighbours would shut up!’ This and other holy thoughts provided their graceful companionship through this project.

So now the question is ‘now what?’ I’m not sure. Folks have suggested taking it to a publisher. Others have suggested putting images with it and making it like an exhibition. I love all those ideas but to be honest I’m a bit scared and a bit lazy.

I doubt I will do another Lent like this. It was very consuming. But I might do an Advent

Sunday Garden

An old song that I wrote. Sung beautifully by Christina all those years ago. Well, three actually.

Shackled in an endless stream,
Merry go round of fate, round and round
The hurts, the hates of a thousand wars
Free to choose, free to lose
Free to fester and die

Written deep within the heart
Longing for life so full of peace and joy
Lies and cries of a thousand souls
Free to fear, free to sneer
Free to stifle and control

Roll the stone away
Break this circle of pain
As you did so long ago
In that Sunday Garden

Train of thought on a lonely track
Greenest of grass and trees pass us by
Only one thing’s on my mind
Me, and me, whose spirit’s free
Free to live a lie

Roll the stone away
Break this circle of pain
As you did so long ago
In that Sunday Garden

Sunday garden’s calling
First day of recreation
All things are new
The tomb has been thrown
Wide open. Wide Open.

Roll away my stone
Break this circle of pain
As you did so long ago
In that Sunday Garden