How much do you know about angels? Not much? Me neither! But then I suspect that neither of us have ever had the pleasure of meeting one ourselves. Or maybe we have – given how the Bible tells us that ‘some, by showing hospitality to strangers, have entertained angels unawares’. [Hebrews 13:2]
But be that as it may, somebody who says he does know a thing or two about angels is Robbie Williams. Because, it seems, he has been told that ‘salvation lets their wings unfold’. Now don’t get me wrong, ‘Angels’ is a jolly fine song, one that I have, on more than one occasion, sung along to vociferously whilst driving my car up the M5 on the way to my former place of work. But beautiful though his words may be, I’m not quite sure what Robbie means by them.
But leaving all that aside for a moment, one thing that I am sure about angels is that they are big on offering reassurance. Just take a look at what they say on each of the four occasions that they appear to people in the Christmas story. If you do, you’ll see that the first words that come out of their mouths are always that assure those that they are visiting that they need not be afraid.
Now you might think that angels must be truly terrifying creatures if their every conversation has to start with either a ‘Fear not’, or a ‘Do not be afraid’ – and well they may be. I for sure would be taken aback if a celestial being appeared unbidden in my kitchen and started to engage me in earnest conversation whilst I was trying to do washing up. But whilst there may be something alarming about a pile of dirty crockery, I think there is more to the reassurance that angels offer than simply calming the immediate fears of those with whom they are having a particularly close encounter.
Take, for example, the angel of the Lord who appeared to those shepherds who were watching their flocks by night. He doesn’t say to them, ‘Fear not – I’m not going to hurt you’ but instead he says, and I’m paraphrasing here, ‘Fear not – God isn’t going to hurt you’.
Because here’s the thing – for you or I to come into the presence of a holy God, when we ourselves are sinful people, is a terrifying prospect. God is a righteous judge, something, incidentally, that we all want him to be, unless, that is, we are content to watch the many injustices within our world to go unchecked. And because God is a righteous judge, it means he must punish sin. And that includes ours.
That’s why the Bible describes God as ‘a consuming fire’ [Hebrews 12:29] and tells us that ‘it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.’ [Hebrews 10:31].
Which is, as I’m sure you’ll agree, something of a problem.
But imagine for a moment that you are out one night and you find yourself all alone on an expanse of open moorland whilst all around you is raging the most violent thunderstorm that you have ever encountered. To be in such a situation would be genuinely terrifying.
But suppose you were then able to find a cleft in a nearby rock and, from that place of safety, continue to watch the lightning as it lit up the sky. What a difference that would make. Instead of being terrifying, the storm would now be a genuinely awesome spectacle, one that you couldn’t help but delight to watch.
God, like such a storm, is genuinely awesome – only more so. But also like the storm, he is not safe. And so we should be terrified of him. And we should be equally terrified if one of his representatives was ever to appear before us. At least, that is, until we have been reassured by them that God has prepared a safe place from which to marvel at him.
And that’s exactly what the angel of the Lord did to the shepherds out in the fields on that first Christmas night. Let me remind you of what he said.
‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord.’ [Luke 2:10-11]
Because you see, this news of a saviour is news of one who would die in our place, one who would pay the penalty for our sin and thereby satisfy God’s need for justice. Thereafter, safe as it were in Jesus, we can now enjoy God for the awesome one that he truly is – thrilled by the beauty of his holiness rather than forever fearful of his judgment.
That is the gospel, the good news of great joy that is for all people. That is the promise of salvation for which, like the angels, we should give glory to God.
Finally, here’s one more thing that I know for sure about angels – ‘there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.’ [Luke 15:10].
Who knows, perhaps that’s what Robbie meant in his song.
*****
Given that the former Take That singer’s vocal range is a little greater than mine, it is perhaps fortuitous that there is no footage of my in-car performance of this epic ballad. So you’ll just have to settle for Robbie Williams himself. With words included – so there’s no reason for you not to join in too!
‘When I’m feeling weak And my pain walks down a one way street I look above And I know I’ll always be blessed with love.’
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 13’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 12’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 11’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 10’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 9’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 8’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 7’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 6’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 5’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
A SHEEP THAT’S BEING WATCHED – THOUGH NOT AT NIGHT
No one can deny that Christianity has a thing about sheep – and the Christmas story is no exception. And I’m not referring here to that all time classic ghost story by Charles Dickens in which Scrooge, the principal character and archetypal grumpy old man, goes about saying ‘Baa Humbug’ all the time.
No I’m talking about the Christmas story, in which, soon after Jesus is born, the angel of the Lord appears to a bunch of shepherds. This was not, as many a schoolboy has suggested, to act as a celestial TV remote to ensure that they watch Clive Myrie and not Tom Bradby read the evening news*, but rather so that he might deliver the day’s main headline himself.
And oh what a startling headline it was! Not only was it ‘good news’, something that is itself all too rare these days, but also, unlike most of the numerous electronic notifications I receive each day, it was news that everybody needed to hear.
And it’s news that everybody still needs to hear today!
So, just imagine for a moment how you’d feel if, having heard an alarming ping from your trouser pocket, you pulled out your phone and saw this displayed across the screen:
‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord’ [Luke 2:10-11]
That it was a bunch of shepherds who were the first to be told the good news of Jesus’ birth is a little surprising since, in those days, shepherds were considered amongst the least important members of society.
Don’t forget, the announcement that was being made here was a royal announcement, one that regarded the birth of a King. Because, contrary to what some people think, ‘Christ’ is not Jesus’ surname – rather it is his title, translating as it does as ‘God’s anointed one’. As such, the news that the shepherds were being told was that the long awaited Messiah had been born!
But then again, perhaps it’s not so surprising that the shepherds were the first to be told – for two reasons.
Firstly, God has a habit of choosing the weak over the strong, the humble over the proud, and the supposedly unimportant over the seemingly significant. A fact that, as the shepherds were soon to find out, is made all the more obvious in God chosing a manger and swaddling cloths over a king sized crib and regal robes.
That’s the kind of God he is – one who comes to us, not with a show of power, but with a show of humility.
And the second possible reason why the announcement was first made to the shepherds is this – who better than shepherds to first hear the news of the birth of a lamb?
For that’s what Jesus was, ‘the Lamb of God’ who would one day take away the sins of the world. For this was the job for which he was born. And it’s a job that he would one day achieve by dying on a cross – yet another apparent act of weakness which was actually quite the opposite, For it was the means by which God brought about a very great salvation.
A salvation that none of us should neglect.
*****
Jesus being the Lamb of God refers most specifically to the Jewish Passover and the last of the ten plagues that God used to force Pharaoh to let his enslaved people go. That plague saw the first born son of every Egyptian household die, save for those in homes where a lamb had been killed, its blood being spread on the doorframes of the house as a sign to the Angel of Death that is should ‘pass over’ that particular dwelling place.
As such the lamb acted as a substitute for the one who would otherwise have died, a sacrifice prefiguring that which Jesus would later offer by dying on a cross.
But there is an even earlier example of a lamb acting as a substitute for one who would otherwise have died. That story can be found in Genesis 22 and, despite it having taken place thousands of years before Jesus’ birth, parallels remarkably with Jesus’ own death. If you’re interested you can read more about it by clicking here.
*****
We’re going high brow for our music selection today – because you can’t go through Christmas without hearing at least a little bit of Handel’s Messiah.
* If you have no idea what I’m talking about here, and I accept that that is a distinct possibility, then just be thankful that you have a more refined sense of humour than I did because, growing up in a rural market town in the 1970s, I found the following couplet amusing!
‘While shepherds watched their flocks by night all watching ITV, The angel of the Lord came down and switched to BBC’
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 12’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 11’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 10’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 9’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 8’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 7’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 6’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 5’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
Other related posts:
To read ‘The Sacrifice of Isaac – Law or Gospel’, click here
Today is December 12th, which by my reckoning means that we’ve now reached the halfway point of my Countdown to Christmas. I’m not sure who is most relieved – me or you – but I don’t doubt that in many households the excitement is beginning to build as Christmas draws ever nearer. But when all is said and done, Christmas is for many a huge anticlimax, a deeply unsatisfying time. I wonder why that might be.
For some of us, Christmas is just too busy – there is simply too much that has to be done. Perhaps we long for the Christmases of our childhood, fondly remembered as magical times when we believed in someone who was better and kinder than ourselves, one who insisted on bestowing upon us one kindness after another without, it seemed, us ever having to do anything to deserve it.
Now though, as adults, we have lost sight of any transcendence that Christmas once held and, rather than resting in the generosity of one greater than ourselves, find ourselves burdened with a list of a thousand things we must do if we are to be considered acceptable celebrants of what a consumerist society has now made Christmas.
Wouldn’t it be lovely then if we could experience Christmas, indeed experience life as a whole, as we did when we were little, with a childlike faith that someone other than ourselves would be kind to us in ways we don’t come close to meriting, one who would see to it that everything worked out just fine in the end.
If that sounds appealing to you, if that sounds like heaven, then be encouraged by the words of one wiser than me who once said
‘Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven’ [Matthew 18:3].
Because, you see, you can’t work your way into heaven – rather you are provided with a free pass. Why? Because Jesus, the one who said the words above, has paid the entry fee and, undeserving though we are, seen to it that everything will indeed work out just fine in the end.
We enter the kingdom of heaven by grace, not by works.
Which means to say that Father Christmas, with his insistence that we have to be good to benefit from his generosity, comes a poor second to the God who sent Jesus into the world to save sinners.
Contrary to what many people think, Christians don’t believe that they’ll go to heaven because of their good works – on the contrary, Christians know all too well how far short they fall of God’s perfect standard. Its not arrogance on their part to believe that they are assured a place in heaven, rather it is a humble confidence in the one who not only bore the punishment for their sins, but also lived the perfect life that they themselves ought to have done. As such, it is Jesus’ perfect life, credited, as it were, to their account by the God who now treats them as if they’d lived that life themselves, that gives a Christian confidence of a place in heaven.
Put simply, Christians know that Jesus was good for them – and they give God all the glory. Furthermore, Christians know that this Christmas, Jesus could be good for you too.
*****
So to finish, have a listen to Michael Bublé give a particularly fine rendition of ‘Santa Claus is coming to town’. And as you do, take note of the rules laid down by ‘the big fat man with the long white beard’ and ask yourself whether this undoubted festive fun really is what Christmas is all about.
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 11’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 10’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 9’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 8’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 7’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 6’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 5’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
At home, strategically positioned in front of our recently condemned gas fire, stands a candle – one that proves the lie that you can’t go wrong by buying your nearest and dearest such a gift as a Valentine’s present. Because nearly ten months on it has remained untouched and it is only in the last week, with the nights well and truly now drawing in, that we have finally bothered to light it.
But when we did, the darkness in our living room immediately shrank back from around it’s flickering flame and I was reminded once more of how differently light and darkness behave.
Because whilst darkness is dispelled by the switching on of a light, the opposite is not true – light isn’t dispelled by the switching on of the dark. The darkness may surround the light, but the light is never snuffed out.
Light then always triumphs over darkness. Which is nothing short of what we should expect, for this is exactly what we are told in the opening verses of John’s gospel, verses that traditionally make up the final reading in a service of nine lessons and carols.
‘The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’ [John 1:5]
This is comforting to know. And what is also comforting to know is that something very similar could be said for love and hate. No matter how intense the hatred, love always triumphs over it. Though it is true that hatred may not simply flee from love in the way that darkness flees from light, and though hate may actually intensify its efforts in the face of love’s persistence, it is none the less true that, come what may, love will always win.
Because love never dies.
Except perhaps that one time – when the light went out.
Jesus said that he was the light of the world, [John 8:12] and at Christmas that light, ‘the true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world’ [John 1:9]
But despite ‘Jesus [coming] to his own…his own people did not receive him. [John 1:11]
And so, on Good Friday, mankind rejected the one who had come to save them. But Jesus continued to love those who hated him – even as they hammered the nails into his hands and feet. ‘Father, forgive them,’ he prayed ‘for they know not what they do.’ [Luke 23:34]
When Jesus died the light went out – and ‘there was darkness over all the land’. [Matthew 27:45]
But not for long. Because love didn’t stay dead. Three days later, the light came back on when Jesus rose from the grave.
And so, no matter how dark it might currently be for some, we can all be sure that there will be brighter days ahead. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning’ [Psalm 30:5]
Because the light will never go out again.
*****
Only one possible option for today’s song – Coldplay and ‘Christmas Lights’
‘Those Christmas lights Light up the street Down where the sea and city meet May all your troubles soon be gone Oh, Christmas lights keep shining on’
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 10’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 9’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 8’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 7’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 6’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 5’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
Can we talk about the elephant in the room? I only ask because my wife refuses to discuss the subject, seemingly perfectly at ease with the fact that one of the world’s largest land mammals has taken up residence in our lounge. I wouldn’t mind, but Nelly, (not, I’d have thought, the most imaginative name that she could have come up with), is someone she claims offers more stimulating conversation than I do, takes up less room on the sofa and, can you believe it, has kind eyes!
But leaving all that aside, the idea of the virgin birth is something that some people would rather wasn’t mentioned – so much so that there are those, even within the church, who claim that it never really happened. But it seems to me that the reason some people don’t believe some things is simply because they’ve never heard of those things happening before.
But to say something can’t happen simply because they haven’t previously is intellectually dishonest – and no different from saying that God doesn’t exist merely because you don’t believe he does.
Furthermore, some people seem to find the wrong things hard to believe. Take the resurrection for example. Whilst I understand why some people might find it hard to accept that Jesus was raised from the dead, it is the fact that he died in the first place that should really cause us to be astonished. The Bible tells us that, ‘the wages of sin is death’ [Romans 6:23] and so, since Jesus was sinless, his death is the genuinely shocking.
And so we have to conclude that it was as a consequence of the sins of others that he suffered. Which it was – for it was for the sin of those he came to save that held him to the cross that day, dying as he did in their place, taking the punishment they deserved. But having died, being without sin himself, it was always going to be impossible for death to hold on to him. [Acts 2:24]
Far then from being unbelievable, Jesus being raised from the dead was nothing other than inevitable.
Now some of you might be thinking that I’m drifting away from the subject at hand. But really I’m not. And the reason I say this is because it was absolutely necessary for the virgin birth to have taken place if Jesus was to have been truly sinless – just as it was absolutely necessary for Jesus to have been truly sinless, if he was to come back from the dead.
Because, you see, if Jesus had been the biological son of Joseph, if he had been just another human being, all be it a particularly good one, he would have been tarnished with the same sin that we all are – the sin that we were all born with on account of Adam’s fall in the Garden of Eden.
Make no mistake though, Jesus was, by virtue of his being born to Mary, fully man – and so was a fitting representative to die in the place of those who trust him for salvation. But equally, conceived as he was by the Holy Spirit, Jesus was fully God – and so was utterly sinless, making his death the perfect sacrifice that was necessary to pay the price for the sins he bore for others.
Jesus – 100% God, 100% man – a beautiful, mysterious, paradox.
Which is, of course, all very well – but is it true.
Because my believing something to have happened, no more means it did than somebody not believing something happened, means it didn’t. Even so, you have to admit that, though a virgin birth is not a common occurrence if, like someone coming back from the dead, it were to happen, even just the once, it would change absolutely everything.
And so the question remains, was Mary really a virgin when she gave birth to Jesus?
So let me be clear. Whilst my talk of oversized members of the order Proboscidea settling down to an evening of stimulating debate with my wife is not, for one moment, something I seriously consider to have ever taken place, I do wholeheartedly believe in the virgin birth. And if you were to ask me why I believe something that, not having been there at the time, I can’t possibly know for sure, I would tell you that it is by faith that I believe.
‘Ah’, you say, ‘that’s just a cop out’.
But mine is not a faith that is blind like that of the White Queen in ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ – a faith that enabled her to believe in ‘as many as six impossible things before breakfast’.
On the contrary, my faith is, as defined by the Oxford English Dictionary, a belief based on evidence, testimony or authority. As is the case with many things that we all believe, my belief in the virgin birth, far from being wishful thinking, is in fact, an entirely rational belief, based, like the resurrection, on the compelling eye witness testimony of those who were there at the time.
That and the authoritative word of the one who spoke the universe into existence – the one for whom all things are possible [Matthew 19:26], and the one who, ‘knowing the end from the beginning’ actually predicted the virgin birth 700 year before the event.
‘Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.’ [Isaiah 7:14]
Luke, the author of the gospel in which we are told of the virgin birth, was a doctor and is, therefore, not somebody you would expect to believe something without good reason. And yet, having looked closely into these matters, having gathered information from those who were there at the time, Luke was clearly persuaded by all that he had been told.
And so he wrote his gospel – so that we who read it may have certainly concerning these things. [Luke 1:4]
That’s why I’m convinced. The question is then, are you?
*****
I appreciate it’s been a bit of a heavy one today – but not as heavy as the one who, kind eyes or not, has completely wrecked our living room furniture! Even so, I promise you all something much lighter tomorrow.
But now, today’s song – ‘Mary Did You Know?’, performed here by One Voice Children’s Choir.
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 9’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 8’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 7’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 6’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 5’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
Other related posts:
To read ‘Looking back to move confidently forward’, click here
To read ‘The “Already” and the “Not Yet”’, click here
Bread – not something you generally think of being associated with Christmas but, as I hope to prove (did you see what I did there?), there is a link – and quite an important one at that.
All of us have things which we would find hard to do without. Take me for example – I have something of a reputation for being partial to a custard cream, if called upon to gather together a small collection of discs prior to being castaway on a desert, I would almost certainly include a couple of Bob Dylan tracts, and I have been seen to twitch uncontrollably if Somerset are playing cricket and I’m not aware of the score.
My wife however, prefers her biscuits to have a fruity component, would undoubtedly sail on by any, and I mean any, marooned seafarer who was consoling himself by playing ‘It’s All Over Now Baby Blue’ and, despite her predilection for such a twice baked comestible, she couldn’t give a flying fig roll whether or not Tom Kohler-Cadmore’s strike rate is higher or lower than that of Will Smeed or Tom Banton.
Clearly then, she still has a lot to learn.
But though we have differing preferences on non essentials, there are some things that we both have real need. Take bread for example…
‘Well you’ve finally got round to talking about bread – well done you. But it’s taken you long enough – and you’ve not yet made a case as to why this staple of the British diet has anything to do with Christmas’.
You make a fair point
‘Thank you – you’re very kind’
You’re welcome – but here’s the thing.
Whereas most people will know that Jesus was born in Bethlehem, and many will be aware that his birthplace was predicted by the Old Testament prophet Micah 700 years before the event [Micah 5:2], far fewer will be aware that Bethlehem means ‘House of Bread’ – which is when you come to think of it, interesting – given how Jesus once said that he was the ‘Bread of Life’. [John 6:35]
More interesting still though is the fact that Jesus made this claim the day after he fed 5000 men, plus a corresponding number of women and children, with two barley loves and a couple of fish, an episode which parallels what God the Father did in Old Testament times when, on route to the promised land, he provided his people in the wilderness with the curious food known as ‘manna’ [Exodus 16] By performing an act similar to that previously carried out by God, Jesus was, by association, making plain that he is, not only the Bread of Heaven, but God himself.
But that’s not the end of it. Jesus went on to say ‘I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.’
Which sounds a little weird until you realise just what Jesus is saying – specifically that, by benefiting from his being consumed by death, we can receive eternal life.
No wonder then that the Welsh sing so heartily that fine old hymn ‘Guide me, O my great Redeemer’.
Guide me O thou great redeemer, pilgrim through this barren land; I am weak, but thou art mighty; hold me with thy powerful hand. Bread of heaven, bread of heaven, Feed me now and evermore, Feed me now and evermore.
*****
Which brings us to today’s song. No surprises as to what it is. Why not click below and sing along?! It is allowed – even if you’re not Welsh!
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 8’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 7’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 6’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 5’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
I know what you’re thinking, ‘What has a magnificent dog got to do with Christmas?’.
Well I’ll tell you. Not a lot.
It’s true that a magnificent cat would have been a marginally more appropriate illustration to head up a few words on ‘The Magnificat’ but, as well as being something of a dog person, a picture of a regal looking canine is, for reasons that may be well known to you, a lot easier for me to lay my hands on.
And yes I know that I’m pushing things a bit here, but we are now on Day 8 of this advent calendar malarkey and if you think that by the time we’re done things won’t have taken a precipitous downturn, then I’m afraid that you’re going to find that you are sorely mistaken.
But I digress. ‘The Magnificat’ is the name given to the song that Mary sang after being told that she would be the mother of the Son of God. It begins with the words ‘My soul does magnify the Lord’ and takes its name from the word for ‘magnifies’ with which the Latin translation begins.
But for those of you who haven’t been distracted by a little Latin, and therefore haven’t forgotten my crass inclusion of a picture of Hector, here is where I try to redeem myself, something which, ironically, a Christian should never attempt to do!
But here’s the thing – just as a magnificent dog is not what you’d expect to see at the beginning of a discussion about ‘The Magnificat’, so too the words of Mary’s song are not the ones that we might expect to read, coming as we do from a culture that is so in love with itself.
As a result, therefore, Mary’s song is one that ought to reverse our expectations. We live in a world where the strong lord it over the weak, the rich oppress the pour and we, having been told to always think of ourselves as awesome, are encouraged to spend our days going about the exhausting business of boasting about our own achievements.
And yet Mary sings of the one who has saved her, the one who scatters the proud, and who brings down the mighty. And whist singing of the one who sends the rich empty away, she simultaneously sings if the one who raises up the humble and fills the hungry with good things [Luke 1:51-53].
Isn’t that the kind of world in which you would want to live – one in which the arrogant are brought low, and the humble are lifted up? Well if it is, know this – it’s the kind of world that God wants too. For
‘God opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble’ [James 4:6)
And so he is prepared to humble, not just the proud, but the only one who is truly awesome – that is to say, himself. And he does this, not only by becoming, in the person of Jesus Christ, a man, and then living a life of poverty, but also by subsequently going to the cross, and dying there the most appalling of deaths.
And he did all this to ensure that those who acknowledge their weakness, those who recognise their need of rescue, far from being dismissed as an irrelevance, can know the love of the eternal and almighty God who will not only one day raise them back to life but also adopt them into his own family and number them among his own dearly beloved children.
No wonder Mary wanted to magnify the Lord.
But note this – she doesn’t magnify him the way a microscope magnifies something, making something very small look bigger than it really is. Not at all. Mary magnifies the Lord in a way a telescope magnifies something, making something that’s really very big look more like the size it really is.
God is big – but to some people he doesn’t appear to be all that important. But if we turn our eyes away from ourselves for a moment, and fix them instead on Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, the one who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, then, not only will we not grow weary or fainthearted, but we will find that God really is every bit as big as we need him to be. [Hebrews 12:2-3]
And perhaps we will find ourselves magnifying the Lord as well.
*****
Finally then, a song. Or rather two. First it’s ’Tell out my soul, the greatness of the Lord. This hymn, one we had at our wedding, isn’t really a Christmas song – but perhaps it should be, given how it is based on ‘The Magnificat’.
And then as a special treat, a second bonus song. Why? Because it’s a song about a magnificent dog of course!. Not only that it’s one my grandson likes it too!
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Part 7’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 6’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 5’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
Nobody should imagine that I consider myself even remotely similar to God. But I do sometimes wonder if I share, just a a tiny bit in one minuscule aspect of his character. Let me explain.
Long ago, when we were first married, my wife and I lived in Bristol. In those days Kaye was working as a teacher and so it eventually came to pass that I had a week off during term time leaving me, therefore, home alone. Being the deeply romantic individual that I am (stop sniggering at the back!), I thought I’d try and do something to surprise her and so, on the Wednesday of my week’s holiday, I decided to see if I could book tickets for us to go and see ‘Les Miserables’ in London the following Saturday night.
So I bought a newspaper – no internet back then – and found in the London Theatre Guide the phone number for the theatre where the show was being performed. I made the call and amazingly, despite it being the most popular show in the West End, and my asking for the most popular performance of the week, I managed to get tickets – for, if memory serves me right, the unbelievably cheap price of just £5.50 each! (Don’t worry, I may have treated her to an ice cream in the interval as well !)
Anyway, my plan was that I’d keep it a secret from Kaye, telling her only that we were going to some mystery location that upcoming Saturday. Well I couldn’t do it! Within minutes of her returning home, I was dropping hints of what we would be doing and, so excited was I that, by the time we went to bed that night, I’d completely spilled the beans.
And in some ways I think God is the same. For having planned his great salvation, he too was unable to keep it a secret. Indeed, just moments after the fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, and thousands of years before Jesus was actually born, God promised that somebody would one day come, one who would be ‘the offspring of a woman’ and would ‘crush the head’ of Satan even as he himself had his heel bruised. [Genesis 3:15]
And that is exactly what subsequently happened. In the fullness of time, God sent forth his Son, one who was indeed ‘born of woman’ [Galatians 4:4]
Throughout the Old Testament. Like me with my ‘secret surprise’, God keeps spilling the beans about the saviour who would one day come. He speaks of how he’d be a descendent of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, a member of the tribe of Judah and an heir to the throne of David. Then, still hundreds of years before Jesus’ birth he tells us, in the book of Micah, that the child would be born in Bethlehem [Micah 5:2] and, in the book of Isaiah, that he would be born of a virgin. [Isaiah 7:14]
These predictions, made hundreds of years before Jesus’s birth, were fulfilled. Each and every promise that God made was eventually kept. Which shouldn’t come as any surprise – because God can’t help but always keep his promises.
And not only did he keep the promises he made relating to Jesus’ birth, he also kept the promises he made relating to Jesus’ death – amongst many others, that he would suffer and die for the sake of others [Isaiah 53:4-5], that he would be buried in a rich man’s tomb [Isaiah 53:9] and that he would subsequently be raised from the dead [Psalm 16:10].
And so it is little wonder that the apostle Paul, writing to the church in Corinth said:
‘For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures’[1 Corinthians 15:3-4]
But God’s promises don’t end there. He has made many more – and he will keep the promises that he has made concerning the future as surely as he has kept the promises related to things already past. And these include promises that assure us that everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved [Romans 10:13] and that a day is coming when all our tears will be washed away and death will be no more. [Revelation 21:4]
Like my surprise trip to London, this is another ‘secret’ that I am just too excited about to keep myself – and that’s why I’m spilling the beans here!
Take my word for it – these are promises worth believing.
So what song should I choose to close with? Well the one I’ve opted for is not a Christmas song, but it is a cracker, so it will just have to do. And in a funny kind of a way it’s sort of appropriate too since it concerns somebody who is unable to keep quiet about the love they have for another. The only thing is that God doesn’t ask you to promise not tell others of his love for you – rather he asks that you spread the ‘secret’ of his love… to the very ends of the earth.
I told you he can’t keep a secret!
*****
Over then to The Beatles, singing here ‘Do you want to know a secret’.
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read A ‘Christmas Countdown – Day 6’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 5’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
Related posts:
To read “Hope comes from believing the promises of God”, click here
To read ‘Looking back to move confidently forward’, click here
Back when I did my O’Levels, exam questions often began with a request that the candidate compared and contrasted one thing with another. To the examiners, it seemed, to do so had some merit. And I suppose they were probably right, as by analysing, for example, differing responses to seemingly similar events, we may be helped to see the important ways those two events differed.
So let me give you an example. Not so long ago, when I was still a frontline healthcare worker, I had a Covid booster. But it wasn’t just me who was jabbed that morning. Hector, my recently acquired Black Labrador puppy, was due a vaccination too.
But whereas the vet plied her patient with tasty liver paste and various other canine treats, all I got from the person sticking a needle in me was her tacit acknowledgment that I didn’t yet look 65, something which, given that I’m still a good few years off that particular landmark, I considered was obvious and not something that required her to comment upon.
I wondered why a dog should be shown such favouritism but, sure enough, comparing and contrasting the way in which Hector and I were treated, highlighted differences between us which might not otherwise have been obvious. One of us you see, was handsome, cute and simply adorable…and the other was a Black Labrador puppy!
Boom, boom! (Thank you, Basil!)
But there is another, more interesting, comparison to be made between the two individuals who, in Luke Chapter 1, are told by God’s angel that they are going to have a child in unlikely circumstances.
The first is Zechariah. He is the man who is told by an angel that his elderly, and seemingly barren wife, will have a son – one who will one day come to be known as John the Baptist. After receiving the news, Zechariah asks the angel how he can know that this will actually happen, and is rendered mute as a result of his lack of faith.
The second individual is Mary. She is a young woman who, despite being a virgin, is told she will have a son – Jesus. On hearing this she not unreasonably responds by asking how this will come about but, in sharp contrast to how Zechariah was treated, far from being reprimanded, she is commended for her faith.
So what is so different in the way that these two individuals responded to the news of their imminent parenthood?
Well I think it’s this. Whilst Zechariah isn’t convinced that what he has been told will actually come about, and seeks further confirmation that the word spoken by the angel is trustworthy, Mary, despite finding it difficult to comprehend how her pregnancy will come about, none the less believes what the angel tells her is true.
Whereas Zechariah doesn’t believe the authoritative word spoken to him by God’s messenger, Mary does believe what the self same angel tells her. Zechariah lacks what Mary doesn’t – faith. Sure she has questions but as has been suggested, Mary’s is a faith in search of understanding.
And I suppose there is a lesson for us all in this. If God says something, then we can be sure that it is true, irrespective of how much we might not want it to be. We might be confused by it and appropriately seek help to understand it better, but we should never question what God declares to be the truth.
Because it is God, not us, who determines what is true and false – just as it is he who determines what is right and wrong. And so the truth is the truth – irrespective of what we might think. Which is what Zechariah discovered. He may have doubted what God said was true, but reality didn’t change as a result, and Elizabeth had a baby boy whilst he looked on speechless.
Zechariah learnt the hard way. We on the other hand, if we are wise, will, on hearing God speak, humbly believe what he says. And respond as Mary did, with these words:
‘Behold I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.’ [Luke 1:38]
All of which is something we would do well to remember…well.
*****
Which is a particularly clumsy segue into today’s song which isn’t remotely Christmasy but is, instead, one from none other than Basil Brush himself – in his original 1970’s incarnation. Here he is duetting with Petula Clark.
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 5’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
Other related posts:
To read “Hope comes from believing the promises of God”, click here
To read ‘Looking back to move confidently forward’, click here
In recent years our family has played a game in the weeks running up to Christmas in which the winner is the last person to hear the song ‘The Fairytale of New York’. Thanks to a poorly timed visit to the Exeter branch of ‘White Stuff’ on November 28th, I’ve already been eliminated and can only hope to do better in a similar game, one which, since I play it by myself I always win. This version of the game is won when one hears a version of the following phrase that is commonly heard at this time of year, :
‘Christmas – of course it’s really just a time for the children’
Every time I hear these words, like an enthusiastic member of a pantomime audience, I want to slap my thigh and scream, ‘Oh no it’s not!’ And the reason why I am tempted be so vociferous is simply this – that though Christmas is, of course, for the children, those who say as such invariably are implying it’s not for older folk like me and, perhaps, you.
But it is!
Because the angel who announced the news of Jesus birth to the shepherds was very clear. ‘Fear not,’ he said ‘for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for ALL the people.’
So whilst you may be looked at a little oddly if, in your late 50’s, you queue up at your local garden centre to visit Santa in his grotto (trust me on this one, you will), nobody is EVER too old for Christmas.
And that includes you!
*****
Today’s song is, inevitably, ‘A Fairytale of New York’ by The Pogues and featuring Shane MacGowan and Kirsty Kirsty MacColl, both sadly now dead. Anyone who plays the game that our family does, and hasn’t yet been eliminated, probably shouldn’t click to hear this Christmas classic!
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 4’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
Other related posts:
To read ‘On approaching one’s sell by date’, click here
To read ‘Vaccinating to Remain Susceptible’, click here
A fanfare please, for the worlds greatest Christmas one liner…
‘For Christmas this year I’ve bought my wife a wooden leg. Don’t worry though, it’s not her main present, it’s just a stocking filler!’
I don’t know about you but there are only a few ‘main’ presents that I can still remember receiving as a child. There was the gerbil (obviously), the Wings LP, ‘Venus and Mars, (don’t ask) and a game called Logacta which was a football game played with dice designed for people who had no friends!
But despite my desperately wanting each and every one of them at the time, none of them seem very important to me now. Curiously though, the gift that was very much a part of every childhood Christmas, but at the time did not interest me that much, grows ever more precious to me as I get older.
It’s great to get presents and I still hold out some hope that this year I might finally be the happy recipient of the Scalextrix Set or Scooby Doo Shaker Maker kit that I never had as a child, but none of these will be the main present that will be offered me again this December 25th. In fact, were I to receive either of the aforementioned items, they would, whilst welcome, be nothing more than Christmas Day fillers and quite possibly a distraction from the greatest gift of all.
And so, if I am to be disappointed once more by the absence of these items from under the tree on Christmas Day morning, I will nonetheless be more than content with the good news of God’s inexpressible gift [2 Corinthians 9:15] – namely the birth of the Saviour, Jesus Christ.
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from God above. [James 1:17]. And most wonderfully of all, because of his great love for the world, God gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life’ [John 3:16] ‘For [though] the wages of sin is death…the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. [Romans 6:23].
And to my mind, main presents don’t any get better than that.
*****
In recent years Michael Bublé has been a regular part of our Christmas – so much so that our old dog Barney was once inspired by him to sing his own version of ‘Santa Baby’. I wouldn’t recommend it, but if you search hard enough you may find a video of his performance in the darker recesses of the internet. If I were you though I’d content yourself with this photograph of him in his Christmas garb…
… and stick with Michael Bublé’s significantly superior version. In it he lists all the things he’s hoping Father Christmas will bring him this year. But, I ask you, should anyone really refer to Santa Claus as ‘Dude’?
No, I didn’t think so either!
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 3’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
Related posts:
To read ‘Something to feast your eyes on’, click here
As any punctuation pedant will know, the presence, or otherwise, of a comma is every bit as important as where it’s placed.
Let me explain. When my children were younger we had a pet guinea pig called Chestnut, as a result of which I was liable to upset my offspring whenever I sang along to ‘The Christmas Song’. This was not on account of my inability to carry a tune, but rather because, by dint of them having added a non-existent apostrophe, they were left imagining that their much loved pet was now roasting on an open fire!
A similar issue arises with one of my favourite carols. But before I tell you which one, let’s be honest about Christmas. For some it is not a happy time, and for many the forced jollity is unwelcome. Let’s face it, when life is characterised by sorrow and despair, few of us are up for a party, regardless of how many amusing Christmas jumpers are on display.
And because not everyone is ‘simply having a wonderful Christmas time’, I have heard it suggested that we should no longer wish others a ‘Merry Christmas’ as to do so risks being insensitive to those who are experiencing difficult times. But to suggest as much is to misunderstand Christmas, to consider it nothing more than an excuse for overindulgence as we try to deny the vicissitudes of life
Which brings me to that much favoured carol of mine that I referred to earlier – namely ‘God rest ye merry, gentleman’. Note the position of the comma.
For many years I misunderstood this Christmas classic imagining that the words were expressing the hope that God would give a bunch of already merry gentlemen a well earned rest! But this is not the point at all – as the position of the comma makes clear. What is being hoped for is that God would cause these souls, of undisclosed happiness, to be rendered merry.
And the reason that they should be left in such a state of merriment, the reason that, as the carol goes on, nothing should cause them to dismay, is that ‘Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas Day’. But why was he born? Well, as the carol makes plain, the answer to that one is ‘to save us all from Satan’s power when we had gone astray’.
This is news worth hearing, for it is very good news indeed – tidings, no less, of comfort and joy,
This is not to suggest that those who suffer do not do so significantly – on the contrary, their suffering may be severe and, what’s more, continue for longer than they feel they can cope with. Even so this good news, this gospel, has the potential to comfort those who have to face even the darkest of days, because it brings with it the certain hope that better days really are on the way. For ‘weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.’ [Psalm 30:5].
So then, irrespective of your current circumstances, may I wish you all a very Merry Christmas.
*****
Here then for your listening pleasure is one my favourite versions of ‘God rest ye merry, gentleman’, sung, on this occasion, by ‘Jars of Clay’.
‘
Previously from ‘A Christmas Countdown’:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 2’, click here
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
WARNING: THIS POST MAY NEVER ALLOW YOU TO THINK THE SAME WAY ABOUT A MUCH LOVED POEM.
My favourite Advent hymn is ‘O Come, O Come, Emmanuel’. For many years, it was hearing a soloist beautifully singing its first verse at the start of the school carol service that marked for me the beginning of Christmas.
‘Emmanuel’ is a big Bible word. It is one of the names that we are told in scripture will be given to Jesus. [Isaiah 7:7]. It means ‘God with us’ and it confirms that we really are right to think of Jesus as, not only fully man, but also fully God.
The idea that God is with us is one that is repeated throughout the Bible. Back in the first book of the Old Testament we read in Genesis 5:22 how Enoch walked with God, the psalmist speaks of how the the Lord of hosts is with his people, [Psalm 46:7] and in the closing chapters of the last book of the New Testament we read how God will dwell with his people even as he himself will be with them as their God. [Revelation 21:3]
Little wonder then that this deeply comforting thought has inspired some to put pen to paper. Whilst there are a number of versions of the much loved poem ‘Footsteps’, this is the one that I find most affecting.
One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonging to him, and the other to the LORD.
When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life.
This bothered the man and so he questioned the LORD about it: “LORD, you said that once I decided to follow you, you’d walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don’t understand why when I needed you most you would leave me.”
The LORD replied: “My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that we hopped!
OK, I admit that the original version seeks to be more uplifting and ends with Jesus explaining to the man that it was in the most difficult times of his life that he was being carried.
Even so, I prefer the above version by comedian, and Christian, Tim Vine. Because, not only does it make me laugh, but it also stops me from thinking that there is ever a time when I, prone to stumble as I am, don’t need to be carried. Personally I find it more comforting to read Deuteronomy 33:27 where I find the reassurance that ‘The eternal God is [my] dwelling place and underneath [me] are [his] everlasting arms’.
Life then can sometimes be hard – and when it is, it can be difficult to know which way to turn. No wonder that it is easy sometimes to feel lost.
But we needn’t feel that way.
Some years ago, whilst out on a walk, one of my children announced that they were lost. This was on account of said child not having a clue as to where they were. But the individual in question was wrong – they weren’t lost – because the one who held their hand, [me], knew exactly where they were.
And I knew the way home.
Perhaps you’re struggling at the moment, perhaps you can’t see a way through all that’s going on this Christmas time. But be assured, you’re not lost – not if you’re being held by the one who knows exactly where you are and who, even in the most difficult of circumstances, knows the way home.
And that ‘one’ is Emmanuel, the God who is with us, the one who knows ‘the end from the beginning’ [Isaiah 46:10].
Why not take his hand and discover that he already holds you – tighter than you could ever possibly imagine?
*****
I’ll end today with a particularly fine rendition of a traditional version of ‘O Come, O Come Emmanuel’ sung here by The St.Michael’s Singers, conducted by Paul Leddington Wright. As all good waiters/waitresses say, ‘Enjoy’!
Related blogs:
To read ‘A Christmas Countdown – Day 1’, click here
BOB DYLAN who, it seems, has ‘Christmas in the Heart’
Even at Christmas, not everyone in my family is a believer. Sadly my wife can’t see what is all too plain to me and if I ever try to speak to her about the wonder of it all she is want to roll her eyes or try and change the topic of conversation. And when it comes to my wanting to listen to his music then I will generally have to wait till I’m all alone in the house or out by myself in the car.
As well as being the day we start opening Advent calendars and making use of Christmas mugs, December 1st is also the day that we in the Aird residence dig out our Christmas CDs and begin to listen to them as part of the run up to December 25th. But, because of the aforementioned aversion to all things Dylanesque, one CD that is rarely played within earshot of the lady of the household is Bob’s 2009 album ‘Christmas in the Heart’.
Admittedly my wife is not this modern day troupadour’s only critic. One reviewer of his aforementioned compilation of festive classics suggested that Latin had never sounded more dead than when that ancient language was employed by Dylan to sing ‘Adeste Fideles’ – that’s ’O Come All Ye Faithful’ for those of you who, like me, had a classical education that was somewhat lacking!
Even so the words of this classic Christmas Carol are worth considering:
‘God of God, Light of Light Lo, he abhors not the Virgin’s womb Very God, begotten not created’
They are borrowed from the Nicene Creed of the fourth century which sought to make plain that the child who was born of Mary was, in very essence, God himself, something that John, an eyewitness of the life of Jesus, conveyed in the first chapter of his gospel when he wrote:
‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.…And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.’ [John 1:1-3,14]
This is what is meant by the incarnation – that God became a man in the person of Jesus Christ. And this is what we celebrate at Christmas.
*****
So with that said I’ll leave you with a track from ‘Christmas in the Heart’ that I’m proud to say that even my children consider a Yuletide classic – well at least one of them does. There may be better songs about the man ‘who’s got a big red cherry nose’ and ‘laughs this way, ‘Ho, ho, ho’’ – but if there is, I’ve never heard it!
It’s not for nothing that Dylan was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016!*
*It should be noted that ‘Must be Santa’ is not originally by Bob Dylan – but then there are those who say that neither was his Nobel Prize acceptance speech!
Yet more incidents from the life of our not yet 5 month old puppy Hector.
November 5th
Today I watch Planet Earth 3 and I am now looking forward to David Attenborough narrating an episode on this strange creature whose diet today has consisted of the sofa, earth from the garden and a Welsh cake. Carry on like that and he may well find himself on the endangered list!
I wouldn’t mind but he’s not even Welsh!
November 15th
Recently our back door has taken on a strange brown colour and we haven’t for the life of us been able to work out what might have caused it. Today though I think I might have caught the culprit…not red handed perhaps, but certainly muddy pawed!
November 21st
Whilst walking Hector in ‘The Peaks’, the rain it pitter-pattered, But to our canny canine friend, in truth it hardly mattered, For though a stream he’d not ‘ere seen, he showed no hesitation, And so got wet without the need of cloud precipitation.
Along the sodden paths he sniffed, his tail he held up high, And when the mud we bid him ‘Leave’, he could not fathom why, ‘Cos self respecting Labradors, will of their own volition, Stop to devour, all they see fit, for speedy deglutition*!
*Apologies for the use of the fancy medical term for swallowing but old habits die hard and it was kind of necessary for the rhyme to work. I will try to be less magniloquent in future!
November 22nd
‘I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with S’, said Hector, demonstrating to everyone how good he now is at spelling. But his direction of gaze did somewhat give the game away!
November 23rd
Disappointed by suggestions that his spelling ability was imagined rather than real, Hector challenged me today to a game of Scrabble. He won of course – establishing an unassailable lead with an impressive opening score of 106, I never stood a chance!
November 25th
Pausing to avail myself of the flask of hot coffee with which I’d had the good sense to set out this morning, Hector took the opportunity to seat himself on a rocky ledge positioned a little higher than the patch of grass where I myself had chosen to take my ease.
Exaggerating the degree of fortification that his present surroundings provided, he then announced himself to be the ‘King of the Castle’, before having the temerity to add that he considered me to be a ‘rascal’, and a not particularly clean one at that. All this despite the fact that it was he, not I, who had spent much of our ramble consuming what most would consider unfit for canine, let alone human, consumption.
‘A rapscallion I may be’, I countered, ‘but at least I don’t eat the egested material of a hundred hillside herbivores’. The pleasure afforded me by my alliterative put down lasted only a moment however, as, adopting a supercilious air, he fixed me with his deep dark eyes and suggested that now might be a good time for me to polish his crown.
Chastened, I rummaged through my rucksack and pulled out the tin of Brasso that I always carry with for just such an occurrence as this. And so, dutifully submitting to the task in hand, I became the ever so humble servant of King Hector the Halitotic.
Other dog related blogs:
To read ‘The Return of a Dog Called Hector’, click here
Well the last patient has been seen, the last blood sample has been taken, and the last prescription has been signed. Because today was my final day as a GP and it’s now time for me to say a fond farewell to medicine, the NHS and East Quay Medical Centre.
Recently several people have foolishly asked if I would be singing a song to mark my retirement from medicine – and sadly for you, the answer to that question is ‘Yes’! But before I inflict it upon you, can I first say how grateful I am to all those I have worked alongside these past 27 years. It has been a real privilege to be a part of East Quay, made up as it always has been by so many wonderfully supportive people. I have hugely appreciated the friendship of colleagues, both past and present, and the many kindnesses shown to me by the patients who have had to put up with me as their GP. Together they have made my time at East Quay a very enjoyable one and there will, therefore, be much that I will miss about the practice in the months and years after my departure. Thank you too for all those who have recently sent me cards, gifts and kind messages – you really shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did! I am genuinely touched by your generosity. It is very much appreciated.
During my time at East Quay there have been many funny incidents. One of my favourites happened some years ago on a day that began with me performing a minor op. As I was administering the local anaesthetic. the syringe came off the needle and I ended up spraying a little of the anaesthetic into the eye of the HCA who was assisting me at the time. Perhaps inevitably, that HCA was Doreen.
Happily the procedure continued without further incident but an hour or so later I was calling another patient from the waiting room when, out of sight of everyone else, Doreen saw me and started pretending to have a problem with her vision. There she was, winking and grimacing at me in an exaggerated fashion, just like some latter day pirate.
‘Who do you think you are?’ I asked, loudly enough for everyone in the waiting room to hear, ‘Long John Silver?’
At which point the patient I’d just called, reached me…complete with his false leg and a very pronounced limp. Fortunately he saw the funny side!
Of course not everything that takes place in a GP surgery is as amusing. I am conscious of the many patients who have experienced great hardship and deep sadness in their lives. And I am aware that some still do. Sadly I have not been able to help all these dear people as much as I would have liked, and regrettably this has sometimes been as a result of my own failings. In my time as a doctor I have undoubtedly made many mistakes – and to those affected by them I offer an unreserved apology. Even so I hope that there will be others who, on occasions, will have found something I have done at least a little helpful. If that is the case, then I will be heartened by the fact, as it will mean that my work will not have been without some value.
Medicine is a wonderful thing – it is the means by which many have had their health restored and their lives extended and I myself am immensely grateful to those who ministered care to me when I had a prolonged stay in hospital nearly ten years ago. But despite its best efforts, medicine cannot deliver all that we would like it to – not only because of the inevitable fallibility of those who work in healthcare, but also because of medicine’s own inherent limitations.
If 32 years as a doctor has taught me anything it is that medicine ultimately fails us all. And so I can’t help thinking that we need something more than medicine, something that can deliver what medicine cannot. I happen to believe that there is such a thing – or rather such a one. Whilst recognising how invaluable doctors and nurses are, I am one of those peculiar people who call themselves a Christian, and so my ultimate hope is not in medicine but in the God who has promised that a day is coming when our every tear will be wiped away and death will be no more. And when that day finally does arrive, as it surely one day will, oh how wonderful it will be that nobody will ever be in need of a doctor again!
And so, as I now leave East Quay in the very capable hands of those who I am sure will, to the very best of their ability, continue to provide the good folk of Bridgwater with all the medical care that they need, I am absolutely delighted to be able to look forward to December 1st when I will, God willing, begin working with the Slavic Gospel Association [SGA], an organisation that supports the church in Eastern Europe, Central Asia and Far Eastern Russia. Furthermore, by partnering with those who live in such far off parts of the world, they also provide much needed aid through numerous relief projects whilst seeking at the same time to proclaim the gospel, the good news, of the salvation that I believe was won, for all who will receive it, through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
You can read more about SGAs work at www.sga.co.uk and more about the gospel in a blog I wrote earlier this year. Entitled ‘Foolishness – Law and Gosepl’, it can be found here.
And so to that final song that I hinted at earlier. As some of you will be all too well aware, I have in recent years gone public on Facebook with my woeful attempts at singing and playing the guitar, an endeavour made all the more foolish by my lack of any discernible ability in either of these two disciplines. Most who have experienced my pathetic efforts will have tried to erase the painful memory of them from their mind, but it does perhaps seem appropriate to reproduce here the lyrics of one which was written a year or two ago in anticipation of the retirement that is now upon me.
As one day I’ll retire when my working days are done, I’ve got a little list, I’ve got a little list, Of people I will want to thank, who’ve made my job such fun, They’ll all of them be missed, they’ll all of them be missed, There’s the patients who forgave me for mistakes that were my fault, The folk who every Christmas gave me smokey single malt, And those who every morning, at half ten knocked on my door, And brought me cups of coffee and those biscuits I adore, They’re none of them draconic, those kind receptionists They’ll all of them be missed – they’ll all of them be missed.
I’ve got ’em on the list — I’ve got ’em on the list; And they’ll all of ’em be missed — they’ll all of ’em be missed.
And then there are the nurses who were always sympathetic, I’ve got them on my list, I’ve got them on my list, When I got into a pickle managing a diabetic, They’ll all of them be missed, they’ll all of them be missed, The HCAs who helpfully squeezed in those ECGs, And never made me beg for one whilst down upon my knees, The times when I had issued drugs whilst just a tad distracted, And someone pointed out the way they may have interacted, Indeed I am so grateful to our helpful pharmacists, I know that they’ll be missed – I’m sure that they’ll be missed.
I’ve got ’em on the list — I’ve got ’em on the list; And they’ll all of ’em be missed — they’ll all of ’em be missed.
The team up there in admin, those who type what I dictate, I’ve got them on my list, I’ve got them on my list Who hear the words I mumble that they’ll first have to translate, Though I sent them round the twist, they’ll all of them be missed, The practice manager who I have driven up the wall, By not reading my emails and by changing my on call, My partners who I have been glad to have close by my side, Who’ve been there as I’ve laughed a lot, who’ve been there as I’ve cried, Well I am very sure now that you all have got the gist, They’ll all of them be missed, they’ll all of them be missed.
I’ve got ’em on the list — I’ve got ’em on the list; And they’ll all of ’em be missed — they’ll all of ’em be missed.
But in the unlikely event that this homage to Gilbert and Sullivan is not more than enough for you, I offer up below my last attempt at carrying a song, one that, should it not be apparent, is an adaption of ‘I am a cider drinker’ by Somerset’s finest agriculturally inspired folk band, the Wurzels.
Undoubtedly you all deserve far better than this but I’m afraid it’s the best I can muster. However, despite the poor musical quality, this ‘song’ comes with my heartfelt appreciation of and fond affection for each and every one of you. It has been an honour to have played a small part in your lives.
Thank you.
Goodbye to EQMC – links to other attempts at music making can be found below!
Other related posts:
To read ‘The way ahead – from EQMC to SGA’, click here
To read ‘On Approaching One’s Sell By Date’, click here
‘We all long for Eden and are constantly glimpsing it; our whole nature is soaked with the sense of exile’
J.R.R. Tolkien
‘If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.’
C. S. Lewis
Life is frequently hard. And for some it’s very hard.
Whilst the problems that I have to face are relatively small, I am, having witnessed it again this week, all too well aware that for many the hardships that they have to face are immense. The difficulties for such folk don’t just seem overwhelming, they are overwhelming – so much so that it is hard to imagine how anyone in their situation could possibly cope. And sadly, of course, there are some who don’t.
Suffering is everywhere – it is a part of what it is to be human, a part of what it means to be alive. But whilst it is never welcome and we should always do all we can to try to relive it, we have to accept that it is, to a greater or lesser extent, a part of all our lives. Even so, we all yearn for something better.
But what if our suffering had some meaning attached to it – what if it existed for a purpose? What if, on occasions at least, it was good for us, loosening our grip on what little we have and urging us to cling to something better?
Recently I have been reading the book of Genesis and this week I came to the part of the story where Jacob finally makes it back to Canaan. But Jacob only got to reenter the promised land after what can only be described as an extremely curious encounter with God.
Jacob is alone and we read of how he spent the hours of darkness wrestling with a stranger, an angel who is described as both man and God. Quite who it was that Jacob struggled with that night is not entirely clear. Whilst some consider the mysterious figure to be a pre-incarnate appearance of Jesus, others are less certain. But what does seem clear is that the stranger is somebody who is, at the very least, a representative of God.
During the struggle Jacob is wounded by the man. He has his hip put out of joint as a result of which Jacob is left clinging on to the man, refusing to let go until he has received from him a blessing.
Jacob then entered the promise land – but he did so with a limp. And so perhaps we should not be too surprised if we also have to journey through this life with something that troubles us. Like the apostle Paul who was given it to stop him from becoming conceited [2 Corinthians 12:17], we too may be given a thorn in the flesh, something that causes us pain that our loving Heavenly Father has purposefully administered to us for our good, something that he seen fit for us to endure as we make our own way towards the promised land as well.
It strikes me that it is better for us to cling to God than to wrestle with him. Furthermore, if it takes some form of suffering to change our attitude such that we recognise our complete dependence on God, then that suffering is not altogether bad for us – on the contrary, it is in fact good for us, irrespective of how painful a struggle it might be at the time.
And so we need not lose heart when we experience trials – for not only are ‘the sufferings of this present time not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us’ [Romans 6:18], our suffering is actually achieving something as it makes us more dependent on God. Far from being meaningless, ‘this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. [2 Corinthians 4:17-18]. The genuine sadness we know today may well be extreme, but it will one day pale into insignificance when compared to the immense joy we will go on to experience throughout all eternity.
Make no mistake, what man means for evil, is evil, But God can mean it for good [Genesis 50:20]
Apparent weakness is at the heart of the Christian faith. God chose the foolish things in the world to shame the wise, he chose the weak things in the world to shame the strong [1 Corinthians 1:27], and he chose a bloody cross and a dying saviour as the way of redemption. Jesus Christ ‘was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed’ [Isaiah 53:5].
Paradoxically then pain has a purpose. It is through obedience that we are blessed [Psalm 119:1-2] and it is through suffering that we learn obedience. If that was the way for Jesus [Hebrews 5:8], it should not surprise us if it is the way for us as well. When we, who love God and are called according to his purpose, suffer, we need not think that God has abandoned us – rather we can be sure that he is working all things for our good. He is only doing what is necessary to ensure that we will continue to cling to him and so eventually make it home to that place where every tear will be wiped from our eyes and death will be no more. [Revelation 21:4]
In difficult times this is a comfort to me. To know that ‘the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, that his mercies never come to an end’ [Lamentations 3:22-23] is the reassurance I need. And all the more so in times of affliction.
So as for me, I will continue to cling on to the one whose everlasting arms will hold me tight forever. And though he slay me, yet I will hope in God. [Job 13:15]. For he is my refuge and strength, an ever present help in times of trouble. [Psalm 46:1]
***
Here’s a song, with some added words from John Piper, that I find helpful. Perhaps you will too.
Related posts:
To read ‘T.S. Eliot, Jesus and the Paradox of the Christian Life’, click here
To read “Why do bad things happen to good people – a tentative suggestion”, click here
To read “Luther and the global pandemic – on becoming a theologian of the cross”, click here
This week is Halloween – but irrespective of how ghoulish the costumes some may be looking forward to wearing might be, there will be nothing more terrifying this year than the nightmare that is currently being experienced by so many in the Middle East and, let’s not forget, Ukraine.
The word ‘Halloween’ is a contraction of All Hallows’ Eve, the day which proceeds All Hallows’ or All Saints’ Day, the latter being an annual Christian celebration dating back to the first millennia when loved ones who have died in the faith are remembered and comfort is drawn by those who remain from recognising that, because of the sure and certain hope of the resurrection, death holds no fear for those who, believing the Christian gospel, have put their trust in Jesus Christ.
Over time this day of solemn remembrance of those who had departed extended to include the night before and children would dress up as ghosts and such like in order to take part in a ‘Dance macabre’ to celebrate the victory Christ won over the forces of darkness. Far then from celebrating evil, the original point of Halloween was to poke a little fun at death in much the same way that the apostle Paul does in his first letter to the Corinthians when he taunts that last great enemy with the words ‘O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?’ [1 Corinthians 15:55]
And this is why I am not as entirely negative about Halloween as some of my Christian friends. Admittedly, whether it is by wandering the streets dressed as zombies or by attending parties in the guise of vampires, most people who mark Halloween these days do so without giving any thought to Jesus’ wonderful victory over death. But just because it has been so commercialised that it is now the third highest grossing festival of the year, that doesn’t mean that Christians should have nothing to do with Halloween. Far from it! For if that were the case, then Christians should surely also refrain from celebrating those other great Christian festivals which have been similarly secularised and today are enjoyed by many who do not find time to reflect on the glorious fact that ‘the word became flesh’ at Christmas and, having been crucified on Good Friday, rose to life again on Easter Day.
But of course, just as Christmas can become all about acquiring everything on your Amazon wish list and Easter nothing more than an opportunity to eat too many chocolate eggs, not everything about Halloween is to be commended. Evil should not be celebrated and the intimidation of vulnerable people by those who go trick or treating in such a way that some are forced to switch off all the lights in their house and pretend they’re not at home is, of course, totally unacceptable. Even so, it is nonetheless true that, done in the right spirit and remembering what Halloween is really all about, trick or treating can actually help bring communities together.
Furthermore, just as fairy tales serve the very useful function of allowing children to face up to the darker aspects of their lives and, through those stories, see that the things they are frightened of can be overcome, so too some appropriate recognition of the existence of evil can help children see that, with Jesus a reality in their lives, they have nothing to ultimately fear.
Because pretending that evil does not exist does not help our children. And all the more so when, as now, it is all too apparent in our world.
Rather then than being concerned about how Halloween may adversely affect our children, perhaps we should be more concerned about the very real harm Disney films can do with their continually insisting to our young people that everyone is awesome. Furthermore, their dishonest assurances that everyone can be whatever they want to be are conveyed whilst minimising the very real existence of the pain and disappointment that eventually marks all our lives.
So, whilst I understand why some Christians are uneasy about Halloween, concerned as they are that it may encourage an unhealthy interest in occult practices such as attempting to communicate with the dead, something which, incidentally, the Bible expressly forbids, for me Halloween is an opportunity to talk about Jesus’ sacrificial death on the cross, a death that paid the penalty for all our sin, and assures us that when we die, rather than it being the end, it will be but a gateway to eternal life with God, a never ending existence in a new heaven and a new earth where our loving Heavenly Father will wipe away our every tear and ensure that death and evil will be no more.
And so until then I will, on occasions, enjoy poking a little fun at death whilst never forgetting that my confidence for so doing comes only from knowing that ‘He who is in me is greater than he who is in the world’ [1 John 4:4].
Furthermore I will not be afraid to die confident as I am that at the cross Satan was so completely defeated that we can all be absolutely sure that ‘Death [really has been] swallowed up in victory’ [1 Corinthians 15:54].
Today, in far too many parts of the world, death may seem to have the upper hand. But the reality is very different.
And with that in mind I hope you all have a frightfully happy and ultimately wholly reassuring Halloween!
***
As will be clear from what I’ve already written, I am a Christian. Perhaps some of you are asking yourselves, if the God I say I believe in exists, why doesn’t He do something to stop the wars in the Middle East and Ukraine. This is, of course, a fair question, one to which I do not have the answer.
Others, no doubt, will be those who say that these wars are signs that we are now living in the last days. To a degree I believe that they are right – but only in the sense that the Bible speaks of the last days beginning some 2000 years or so ago. But whether we are now seeing those last days drawing to an end, or whether they will continue on for another 2000, 20,000 or 200,000 years, this is something I do not know either.
It would seem then that there is much that I do not know. Furthermore there is much that I do not understand and much that I wish was different to how it is. Even so, there remain some things that I do know, some things about which I believe we can all be certain.
1. God is still in control. Nearly 3000 years ago King Uzziah died, and the future seemed very uncertain for the people he ruled over. Isaiah, however, saw beyond the immediate political uncertainty. ‘In the year that King Uzziah died, [he] saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. [Isaiah 6:1].
Here is a picture of a God who is utterly in command. I believe he still is today. As in the year that Russia invaded Ukraine, so too in the year that war broke out in the Middle East – God remains on the throne.
2. What barbarically violent individuals mean for evil, God means for good – irrespective of how unable we are to see or even imagine what that good might be [Genesis 50:20].
God has a habit of working in mysterious ways and though it may sometimes grieve him to do so, we shouldn’t perhaps be too surprised if, on occasions, He is want to operate outside our way of thinking. It is after all He who is God, not us. ‘For as the heavens are higher than the earth so are [His] ways higher than [our] ways and [his] thoughts than [our] thoughts’ [Isaiah 55:9].
When Jesus was crucified most who looked on saw nothing but defeat. How, they thought, can a dead Messiah save anyone?
And yet there was one, the second thief who hung on a neighbouring cross, who saw that the bleeding, dying man next to him remained a King and, what’s more, one who, far from defeated was, even through his death, securing a victory that would last for all time. Similarly then, God can, and will, bring something genuinely good out of what is currently, self evidently, so dreadfully bad.
3. ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble’ [James 4:6]. Make no mistake God is against all who seek to oppress – even if He is currently allowing those individuals to act in the way they are.
‘The LORD is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble’ [Psalm 9:9] ‘The LORD works righteousness and justice for all who are oppressed’ [Psalm 103:6].
Even if it takes longer than we would like, we can, therefore, be sure that ultimately those in the wrong will be defeated, righteousness will prevail and love will triumph over all that is evil.
4. God is with those who suffer. Even though there will be those who, even today, walk through the valley of the shadow of death, they need fear no evil, for God is with them, his rod and his staff will comfort them [Psalm 23:4]. God has promised to never leave us of forsake us and not even death can separate us from the love of God. [Romans 8:38-39].
Now don’t make a mistake. I am not offering here a platitudinous ‘Smile, Jesus loves you‘ to the people of the Middle East and Ukraine and suggesting that those facing such terrifying days should simply cheer up and not worry. On the contrary. Though it is most certainly true that Jesus does indeed love those caught up in the conflicts, I fear that their suffering will be huge, their sorrow intense, and their anguish all too real. Even so I believe that there is yet hope, a certain hope, because there is a God of love who cares for those who are currently being so dreadfully afflicted.
And neither am I suggesting that we in the West should simply ‘Let go and let God’. A high regard for God’s sovereignty does not mean we should stand back and look on from a distance, comforting ourselves by imagining we have no role to play ourselves. Just as my believing that God has set the day of my death does not mean that I no longer need to look both ways when I cross the road, so too my belief that God is in control of the situation in the Middle East does not mean that I should not act to help where I can.
And help we all most certainly can. We can both petition and support world leaders as they seek to undertake the near impossible job of trying to decide what best can be done to help those caught up in the conflict. Many of us will be able to offer financial support for the huge humanitarian aid effort that is already needed and some of us may find ourselves in a position to offer physical physical too.
And all of us can pray, really pray – to the God who is really there and who really does care.
I am of course very well aware that it is easy to write this from a distance, that it is easier sometimes to believe things theoretically than it is to do so in practice. But I hope and pray that I will both believe and count on all this being true when my time comes to die, be that comfortably in my bed at a ripe old age, or as a violent consequence of an escalation of the wars that we are now seeing play out in the Middle East and Eastern Europe.
For tonight though my heart breaks for the people of the Middle East and Ukraine with the news reports that continually emerge from these areas of the world move me to tears. And so until an opportunity affords itself for me to help in perhaps more tangible ways, my prayers are for the men, women and children whose future currently appears so uncertain.
Please do join me.
Related posts:
To read ‘T.S. Eliot, Jesus and the Paradox of the Christian Life’, click here
To read “Why do bad things happen to good people – a tentative suggestion”, click here
To read “Luther and the global pandemic – on becoming a theologian of the cross”, click here
More incidents from the life our new puppy Hector.
September 4th
He said he wouldn’t steal a piece of fake coal from the fireplace.
He lied!
September 24th
Last night we watched ‘A Quiet Place 2’. For those unfamiliar with the film’s premise it involves ferocious alien creatures who cannot see you but are liable to rip you to shreds if they hear you.
As I tiptoed silently across the landing last night I reflected on how life sometimes mirrors art!
Yes, Hector does still has those very sharp puppy teeth!
September 27th
Still, for the time being at least, a frontline healthcare worker, today I had my Covid booster. But it wasn’t just me who was jabbed this morning as Hector was due a vaccination too.
But whereas the vet plied her patient with tasty liver paste and various other canine treats, all I got from the person sticking a needle in me was her reassurance that I didn’t yet look 65, something which, given I’m a good few years off that particular landmark, I would like to think was obvious!
That a dog should be shown such favouritism doesn’t seem right to me but at least I came away with a sharps box which should enable the safe disposal of Hector’s baby teeth when they at last start falling out!
October 3rd
With tomorrow being the first day he’s allowed out, Hector has spent the day planning where he’d like to go for his first walk.
Sadly though, since he’s only allowed short excursions for a while, I’m going to have to tell him that his choice of a 10 mile hike taking in the Steart Marshes and Bridgwater Bay will have to wait ‘till he’s older.
October 4th
When in life you’re faced with a dilemma and you don’t know quite what course to take, do as I do and ask yourself this simple question:
WWHD – What would Hector do?
The answer will invariably be ‘Chew it’!
Hector would however like it to be known that he was absolutely NOT scared of the hoover this morning, it’s just that sometimes he likes being under the kitchen table.
He did enjoy his first walk up the field though.
October 5th
Hector enjoyed his interpretive dance class today. Asked by his instructor to convey the confining nature of the womb, he made imaginative use of his legs to represent the three blood vessels of the umbilical chord.
6th October
Next up in The Repair Shop is a man who has travelled up from Somerset with a rather ropey looking duck toy that has been in his family for literally minutes.
But it has now seen better days due to the way its been treated by the most recent arrival in his household.
‘It’ll take a lot of work to restore it’ says Jay Blades eyeing the item in a concerned fashion, ‘and frankly I’m not sure it’s worth the effort. If, that is, you’re going to keep the dog?’
The Somerset man indicates his understanding before sloping sadly away muttering as he does so something about how a dog is for life, and not just for September.
It seems that some jobs are too big for even a dream team of master craftspeople.
October 11th
At puppy training this week Hector learned the difference between ‘Wait’ and ‘Leave’.
‘Wait’ is the command given for something he can have after a short delay, whilst leave is the command for something he can never have.
So, for example, he should ‘wait’ for a treat but ‘leave’ a friends very expensive leather bag.
Pity he didn’t learn that a day earlier!
October 25th
The dogtor will see you now!
We were delighted to have Hector locuming for us today at East Quay Medical Centre and proving that Dr Phil Hammond was right when he said that for 90% of symptoms you’re better off with a dog than a doctor. He further pointed out that, as well as being an antidote to loneliness and a great incentive to exercise, our canine friends are always willing to give encouraging licks – something which most GPs are reluctant to do!
And as well as providing excellent care, Hector’s fee for the day, consisting as it did of just a handful of treats and a copious number of tickles, was highly competitive when compared against the going rate.
My only criticism would be that he did, perhaps, order too many Lab tests!
I forget how many years ago it was but I can still recall the incident quite clearly. I was in the Taunton branch of Argos and having perused their catalogue and found what it was I wanted to buy, I wrote the products numerical code on a flimsy bit of paper with one of those tiny pens Argos have that are so obviously designed with their pinchability in mind. I then started to make my way to the payment point but was stopped by a young lady who asked if I’d like to try to use a new machine that they’d installed by which I could pay without having to queue for the tills. I remember saying to her that it seemed to me that she was being employed to do herself out of a job and I wondered what she thought about that. She just smiled and proceeded to talk me through the process of tapping my purchase details into the machine and paying by card.
This week I was back in the same store. I was there looking for skewers. I tapped my request into an electronic device and learnt that they didn’t have any. This was not a huge concern to me, but what did bother me was that the shop was as soulless as it was skewerless. As far as I could see the large open space had just the one person in it. He was pacing around like a bored caged animal, employed by an otherwise faceless corporation on the off chance that someone would need some assistance with one of the several machines that meant that tills were now no longer deemed necessary at all.
But it wasn’t just Argos. Earlier I’d visited one of the banks in Taunton. I would of course have preferred to have popped into one in my home town of Wellington but, like all but one of the major banks there, this has closed down because, it’s said, nobody needs to visit a bank these days. And so I joined a long line of people who hadn’t got that particular memo, each of us waiting our turn to be shown how to complete whatever transaction it was that we wanted to make on yet another machine.
But my reason for entering this once fine financial institution was, I thought, one that a machine wouldn’t be able to help me with and so I caught the eye of one of the skeleton staff who were there to attend to the bemused, and explained that I wanted to open a new account. I was asked to take a seat and for a moment I thought I would soon be interacting with a real person. Which I was of sorts but only to the extent of being told I could open a new account on the internet. And so I resignedly had to pull my phone from my pocket and, under her watchful eye, did what I was clearly expected to have done at home.
On this occasion, the process was admittedly straightforward – but frequently it isn’t. Such was my experience the previous week in the Post Office. Wellington is a sizeable town which as well as being almost bankless has, for some time, been without its own post office, the townsfolk having had to rely on the sterling efforts of a small branch in a convenience store in neighbouring Rockwell Green. Taunton, the county town of Somerset, appears to be heading in a similar direction as it has also lost its dedicated post office with what now passes as the post office being squeezed into a branch of W.H.Smiths. It is, and I use the word loosely, ‘served’ largely by machines. Machines which, on the day I was there, weren’t working and even when they were, were proving largely incomprehensible to the queue of increasing frustrated customers.
But irrespective of the efficiency or otherwise of all these machines, something very important is being lost as they become increasingly ubiquitous. Whilst they may save the companies who employ them some money, we who have to use them are paying a high price. Because it’s not only jobs that are being lost.
Partly as a result of an over reliance on technology and other artificial forms of communication, we are losing the opportunity to interact with one another and are being forced to live increasingly isolated lives. Thus we are currently living through an epidemic of loneliness in which 7.1% of the U.K. population are experiencing chronic loneliness, meaning they feel lonely ‘often or always’, a figure which is even higher amongst younger people. Given that loneliness is as bad for one’s health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day, perhaps we should be as concerned to do something about it as we are about our young people smoking.
In a world where the onus is on being authentic, it is odd that we have become so dependent on such artificial forms of interaction. And having lost the art of conversation, it is little wonder that we now seem increasingly unable to live at peace with one another. Because if we can’t talk to those we live alongside, how can we expect to talk to and understand those further afield. with whom we are prone to disagree? The answer is that we won’t. Rather we will inevitably become more isolated from and suspicious of such folk and ultimately run the risk of learning only how to hate them.
And just now I think we all know how that ends.
The last store I visited was Waterstones. And without a self checkout in site, what a contrast it was. I was one of numerous people who, as we browsed the bookseller’s shelves, enjoyed the accompanying sound of the conversation taking place between customers and knowledgable staff regarding all manner of subjects literary. When I enquired about the availability of one particular book – ‘Burglar Bill’ by Janet and Allan Ahlberg since you ask – no doubt one of thousands that the store sold, the friendly chap behind the counter knew immediately the title I was referring to and was able to help me in my search.
In the end though I bought Ade Edmondson’s new autobiography, ‘Berserker!’. He writes extremely well and in a conversational style and I for one am enjoying getting to know a bit more about him. His book is, of course, a far more reliable source than Wikipedia which, he recounts, contains many false statements, statements which he was, nonetheless, prevented from correcting because the ‘go to’ source of information for so many of us didn’t consider him a reliable witness about his own life!
And so we really do have to try and cease being so reliant on technology and learn once again how to interact with one another. We need to spend time with each other and take that time to talk. Not everything has to be done in a rush and there really is a place for doing things slowly.
Because all the best things in life take time, and living isolated lives is not a remotely good idea.
That any tree should be the subject of such wanton vandalism is distressing enough but it is more sickening still when the tree in question is the focal point of a nationally recognised area of outstanding natural beauty enjoyed by countless numbers of people every year. But the damage inflicted at Sycamore Gap this week pales into insignificance compared to the infinitely more grievous harm done when the one cut down is a fifteen year old girl from Croydon, heedlessly attacked and killed as she made her way to school.
And so it would seem that there are those who delight to destroy what others take pleasure in, those who, failing to recognise the value of those around them, see individuals as disposable, and who consider it acceptable to deny to others what they do not want themselves. But sadly it is not only they that I can point a finger at, for I see in myself the same destructive tendencies that are present in all too many others.
The problem of evil is one that is frequently raised by those who object to the idea of an all powerful God, for how, they not unreasonably ask, could one who purports to be good allow bad things to happen such as have occurred these past few days. But the problem continues to exist for those who reject the notion of a perfect arbiter of right and wrong since evil stubbornly remains a reality in a supposedly impersonal, mechanistic and amoral universe, a universe where any sense of right and wrong, of good and bad, would be nothing but a figment of our imaginations, the product of minds merely conditioned to think in such illogical terms.
Because only in a moral world do our tears make sense.
So why do bad things happen? Why would a coach overturn on a motorway, killing the driver and a teenage passenger and leaving another youngster with life changing injuries? Is it for us to ever fully know the answers to these questions? Probably not. In the book that bears his name, Job is never given a reason for why he has suffered unjustly. Even so, he is comforted ultimately by the vast ‘otherness’ of the God to whom he voices his complaint. And we can be comforted too. For Job’s experience points us to another whose life was similarly characterised by unjust suffering, to one who, though innocent was pronounced guilty and nailed to a cross.
As it is written, ‘cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree’. And so Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us. [Galatians 3:13]
Though sinless, Christ suffered in our place, bearing the penalty that we deserved for all that we have ever done wrong. He died so that we can be forgiven for all the harm that we have caused and so have the curse of death lifted from our shoulders. He was felled so that we, the fallen, might one day be raised to eternal life where every tear will be wiped away and death will be no more. [Revelation 21:4]
So there is hope in our often dark and sometimes sad world. There is a tree of life whose leaves are there for the healing of the nations. [Revelation 22:2]. It’s a tree that speaks of a better tomorrow, a tree that promises an end to all the darkness. a tree that guarantees the future.
And it’s a tree that will surely stand forever.
Related posts:
To read ‘T.S. Eliot, Jesus and the Paradox of the Christian Life’, click here
To read “Why do bad things happen to good people – a tentative suggestion”, click here
To read “Luther and the global pandemic – on becoming a theologian of the cross”, click here
Despite today’s anticlimactic end to Somerset’s final county championship game, we can look back on what has still been a very enjoyable season. So here, in no particular order, are 20 things we have learnt this summer.
1. It came home! And brilliant as Tom Banton (468 runs, SR 149.04, HS 84) and Will Smeed (523 runs, SR 175.5, HS 94) are at the top of the order, it’s clear that T20 trophy’s are won by an all round team performance, one that is characterised by superb fielding every bit as much as aggressive batting and tight bowling.
2. New Zealanders are our friends – Kiwi’s may not be the only fruit, but they might just be the best! Thank you Matt Henry, Ish Sodhi and Neil Wagner!
3. James Rew can bat, Tom Abell can bowl, and Craig Overton can catch. As well as keep wicket James Rew scored five championship hundreds this season, including one double hundred and equaled the record for the most scored by a teenager. It was great to see Tom Abell picking up wickets (4-54) against Kent and Craig ‘Bucket Hands’ Overton’s 22 catches in this season’s Blast was a tournament record.
4. But James ‘Butterfingers’ Anderson is only a mere mortal after all – even so, it’s probably best not to shout about it too much on social media platforms.
5. Andy Umeed likes to bat in one day cup games – 613 runs at an average of 87.57 with a HS of 172*.
6. You should never give up. Wins can come from the the least promising of positions – and even after the most disappointing of starts to a season you can still end up the match winner on T20 finals day. It’s been good to have you on board this year, Sean Dickson!
7. As well as being a 17th century theologian, Matt Henry is a mighty fine cricketer – and if he says he wants to play T20, you should just nod your head and give him a contract. Part of a devastating opening bowling attack with Craig Overton, he saved his best T20 performance for the final taking 4/24 to sneak past Ben Green and end as the competition’s leading wicket taker with 31 wickets at a strike rate of 10.13 and an economy of 7.83. And then there were his 32 wickets in the county championship at an average of 16.18 including 6-59 against Notts. A great overseas signing.
8. Irrespective of how much sand there is about the place, work is no day at the beach for the groundsmen. They’ve worked wonders this year. And so have those involved in delivering what must be the best livestream in the country. Great to have had Vic Marks, one of my childhood heroes, joining the always excellent Pete Trego and Sophie Luff this year.
9. Lammers and Golders have still got what it takes and we can look forward to lots more runs from both of them next season.
10. The future is bright with the likes of Shoaib Bashir and Alfie Ogbourne in the ranks and, given the chance, the youngsters in the squad can give Hampshire a run for their money – and very nearly beat them. As for Kasey Aldridge – his hand is still smarting from the brilliant and crucial catch he took to dismiss Adam Rossington in the T20 Final.
11. It’s easy for some to criticise – but easier still for everyone else to find things to praise in this Somerset squad – 350+ first class wickets for Lewis Gregory for example. And he had a baby too. Congratulations Louie G!
12. Stumpy’s efforts in the gym last winter proved ineffective in this year’s mascot race – which is disappointing in one sense but actually quite reassuring for all of us couch potatoes!
14. Decisions on when to declare and when to enforce the follow on can safely be left to the captain. Well led Tom Abell!
13. Jack Brooks (for his constant enthusiasm as well as his bowling) and Steve Davies (for his wicket keeping and elegant batting) will be sorely missed next year. Likewise George Bartlett, a youngster with great potential who will make Northants a stronger team next season. Wishing each one of them all the very best in their respective futures.
15. Party organisers at Surrey long for Somerset players to respond positively to the invitations that they constantly send them.
16. Predicting the weather for Edgbaston in mid July can be tricky.
17. Severe haircuts don’t prevent you taking trophy winning catches. ‘TKC take a bow’. The lad can bat too! (489 runs, SR 160.33, HS 72) Hearty congratulations on being called up to the England one day squad.
18. Enjoyable though hospitality is, it’s not a patch on watching Lewis Gregory (57*) and Ben Green (35*) secure the teams place at T20 finals day with an unbeaten 96 run partnership.
19. It’s all too easy to injury your finger playing cricket. Break one (Peter Siddle) and you’ll sadly be forced to return to Australia early. Dislocate one and you could always try to reduce it and play on – at least you could if you’re Roelof van der Merwe. And on the subject of injuries, with so many this year we know the team physios must be very busy people. It was good to have Josh Davey back at the end of the season and here’s to Craig O, Sonny Baker and Alfie Ogbourne being fully fit soon. And let’s not forget Jack Leach – hopefully we’ll see a lot more of him next year than we have this.
20. Cricket’s only a game – but what a truly wonderful game it is. And as is clear from reading about young Bodhi Atterton, the good it does is both on and off the field. If you haven’t done so already, you can read 6 year old Bodhi’s story here. We wish him well.
So thank you to all at Somerset CCC who have been involved in giving us another six months of terrific entertainment. I look forward to doing it all again next year.
Until then, enjoy the Cricket World Cup and winter well!
On Wednesday it rained in Taunton. So much so that not a ball was bowled at the County Ground which was a little disappointing for me as I had hoped to spend my day off watching Somerset build on the strong start they had made in their match against Kent. But it was not to be – the covers remaining on the square throughout the day, something I saw for myself as I stole a glance through the Vivian Richards gates as I drove along the Priory Bridge Road late that morning.
I was in town to do a bit of shopping and having failed to find what I was looking for on the virtually empty shelves of Wilco I found myself in a coffee shop looking down from an upstairs window on the boarded up and increasingly tatty frontage of Debenhams, yet another victim of the economic downturn. And all the while the rain continued to fall from an unrelentingly cloudy sky.
The world seemed a rather grey place that morning. It was all a far cry from the blue skies and warm sunshine I’d enjoyed when I had last made it to the county ground for a championship game at the end of June. Since then work, life and a certain franchise competition had meant I’ve not seen as much four day cricket as I’d have liked.
Much has already been said about the squeezing out of what really should be the jewel in the crown of county cricket to the least suitable months of the season for playing what is, after all, a summer game, but it does seem to me a shame that the slow burn satisfaction of the longer format has been sacrificed on the alter of instant gratification supposedly provided by manufactured teams sponsored by potato based comestibles, a packet of which you barely have a chance to consume in the limited time afforded by the truncated games duration.
And so I sat and wondered if this ‘must have it now’ attitude, so ubiquitous in the ‘Amazon Prime’ world in which we live, is the one that drives the discontent that too frequently manifests itself in the criticism that pours out of those who seemingly cannot wait for good things to develop.
This week I experienced another example of such complaining after posting something positive on the Somerset supporters Facebook page. On Day One of the game against Kent, Tom Lammonby, somebody I described as ‘a fine player who has had more than his fair share of criticism this year’, scored a century in difficult conditions and under what must have been intense personal pressure. I was rash enough to suggest that his had been a superb performance.
Tom Lammonby on his way to making 109. Photograph used by kind permission of Matthew Cleeve.
As previously, I had not expected this to be a controversial point of view on a forum for Somerset supporters but once again I was wrong because, apparently, I had failed to understand that Tom Lammonby isn’t as good an opening bat as former Somerset players like Jimmy Cook and Marcus Trescothick.
What a sad world we live in if we can only praise those who are the very, very best. This is the attitude that leads to instances such as occurred a few years back when an athlete who had just missed out on a place in an Olympic final felt it necessary to apologise for letting everyone down. How tragic when being ninth or tenth best in the world is considered failure.
Who knows if Tom Lammonby will one day be remembered as one of the very, very best but currently he is just 23 years old and is, I imagine, somebody who would readily accept that he has a way to go before being classed as one of Somerset’s greatest. But let’s give the lad a chance, let’s give him and others like him the time it takes for genuine class to emerge. And let’s give credit where credit is due because withholding any encouragement until someone reaches legendary status isn’t going to motivate anyone to keep on trying.
In the afternoon, with no prospect of the covers at Taunton being removed, I took the opportunity to visit a small show put on by three local artists in a village hall just a short drive away from Taunton town centre.
The most striking piece on display was a self portrait of one of the artists wearing her mothers wedding dress, the bright white of the gown a vivid contrast against the painting’s pitch black background. But there were many other fine pieces to enjoy – a herd of cattle huddled together in the corner of a field, a scenic representation of rural Dorset and an impressionist depiction of a gentle game of village cricket. Each painting, all no doubt the result of many hours work, enriched my day and I was glad to have been able to see them.
Now there will no doubt be those who, had they been there with me, would have seen fit to complain that the standard wasn’t that of a Pierre-August Renoir or a Leonardo da Vinci but to have done so would have served only to discourage those who had tried to create something of worth.
And how we need such folk today, those who keep on trying to make this grey old world a little more colourful. We need those who play, be it with a paintbrush, a cricket bat or with some other means, and in so doing bring about a little happiness in the lives of those who are sometimes sad. We none of us need to be the best to do something of value and we must not allow others to discourage us from doing the best we can by raining on our, or anyone else’s, parade.
And so my watching cricket is over for another season but there will be more games to enjoy next year. Rain or shine, I for one, am looking forward it, confident that it’ll be well worth the wait.
***************
Leaving all that aside and on an altogether lighter note, somebody who seemingly is always ready to play is Hector, our new Labrador puppy. Even so, rain does dampen even his enthusiasm for outdoor activity as you’ll see in the clip of him below:
Still unvaccinated he can’t yet accompany me to Somerset games but in preparation for next season, I thought that, with the weather forecast for Taunton being what it was, I could usefully spend some time explaining to him how you can be given out LBW. He seemed keen to learn, understandably, I suppose, given how he’d be vulnerable to a ball pitching in the ‘ruff’!
He still lacks full understanding of the command ‘Wait’ so I suspect he may also be liable to getting himself run out. More concerning still, however, is his long tail – something which may also prove a problem in the future.
Even so, as this next video shows, he was wholehearted in expressing his delight at the news of Tom Lammonby’s century!
This is an extended, theologically minded, version of last week’s blog entitled ‘Only a game’.
Last week I posted on the Somerset cricket supporters Facebook page. I said a few, admittedly optimistic, words about Somerset’s prospects for the upcoming day’s play and said that, win, lose or draw, I was looking forward to seeing them play Kent this coming week adding that, for me at least, there are few more enjoyable things than watching Somerset play at the county ground in Taunton.
You would have thought that this would have been an uncontroversial view to express on a forum specifically set up for Somerset supporters – but you’d be wrong! Alongside those who ridiculed my suggestion that, given past batting performances, the team might yet do well, others presumably disenchanted by the teams recent batting performances and who clearly think Somerset are only worth watching if they win, responded by suggesting that I should ‘get a life!’
Which got me thinking about what ‘a life’, for some, entails.
As a doctor I regularly sit with those whose mental health is so poor that all they want to do is die – and those who mourn the death of those who meant the world to them.
I spend time with those whose cognitive functioning is declining – and those whose chemotherapy hasn’t delivered the cure that had been hoped for. Furthermore I speak to those whose cancer is so far advanced at presentation that an attempt at curative treatment isn’t even an option for them.
I visit those, some of whom are just a few years older than me, who, having suffered a stroke or the progressive effects of some other debilitating disease, find themselves in a nursing home – and I console those who, having geared themselves up for surgery only to have it cancelled at the last minute, have to endure their pain or anxiety for even longer than they already have.
And then there are the events like those that have recently occurred in Morocco and Libya.
Such, to a greater or lesser extent, are all our lives and so, in a world characterised by suffering, we all sometimes feel the need to be distracted by something we enjoy. So yes, because of the life I have, spending a day watching Somerset playing cricket at Taunton is one of the things I like doing most.
It saddens me then when a small minority seem to find it necessary to spoil the pleasure we have in supporting the teams we do by denigrating individuals who have entertained us so wonderfully for so many years. Do they not know how fortunate they are to watch what many are denied the pleasure of because of their life situation? And in a world where we are constantly told we have to be better, where the pressure to prove that we are a success is a constant burden, it’s a shame that they can not enjoy sport for what it is, an opportunity to play, to take part in what is after all just a game, without having always to win.
Of course there’s disappointment when results don’t go the way we might have hoped – but unkindness and rudeness are never justified. And they make the world, cricketing and otherwise, an even sadder place than, for some, it already is.
But having said that, watching cricket is, of course, only a distraction – at close of play, the problems remain. And so, whilst I am grateful to God for the pleasure I get from watching cricket, if I, or anyone else, wants any lasting comfort it is to God that we must turn. For he is the God of all comfort – the God who comforts us in all our affliction. [2 Corinthians 1:3-4]
Notice though that it doesn’t say that God will always act to immediately remove our affliction. No, for now at least, he comforts us IN our affliction. The writers of the psalms recognised that this was the case. As King David famously penned, ‘Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. [Psalm 23:4] And the less well known writer of Psalm 119 is even more explicit when he says, ‘This is my comfort in my affliction, that your promise gives me life…Let your steadfast love comfort me according to your promise to your servant. [Psalm 119:50,76].
Here then is hope for the afflicted. A hope that comes from believing God when in Revelation 21:4 he promises that a day is coming when he really will wipe every tear from our eyes and death will be no more. A promise which, as all the promises of God, finds its ‘Yes’ in Jesus Christ and is, therefore, guaranteed to be kept. [2 Corinthians 1:20].
To continue on a cricketing theme, on July 15th a man caught a ball. I’ve watched that catch dozens and dozens of times. Why? Well the man who took the catch was Tom Koehler-Cadmore and every time I see it I marvel at both his agility and superb eye-hand coordination. ‘TKC – take a bow’, the commentator intoned recognising the catch was one that was worthy of praise. But I watch it most because of what that catch achieved. For with it Somerset won this years T20 competition.
How much more then should we all continually look to the cross. For every time we consider what took place at Calvary we see something of the character of Jesus who hung and suffered there. We see his amazing bravery, we see his great humility and we see his overwhelming love for those he came to save. And we recognise what his death achieved – our reconciliation with God. For by dying for us, paying the penalty for all that we have ever, and will ever, do wrong, Jesus secured the forgiveness of our sins. Furthermore it brought about the death of death itself. As such Christ’s obedience to the point of death, even death on a cross, is worthy of our everlasting praise.
The cross then demonstrates how seriously the Christian faith takes, not only sin, but suffering too. It provides the solution to both the cause and the consequences of the fall.
And so it is at the cross, that we find real comfort – even in our affliction. It is at the cross we are made right with God and where we truly ‘get a life’. More than that it’s where we get ‘eternal life’.
And so I am grateful that in the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus, mindful of where he was heading, was greatly distressed and troubled, so much so that his soul was ‘very sorrowful even to death’, [Mark 14:33-34] he did not waver from obeying the will of the Father. Because when the going got tough, Jesus kept on going – to the cross – to die, for you and for me.
Some people tell us that we need to step out of our comfort zone. And maybe sometimes that’s true. Even so, as Jonny Bairstow recently discovered as he wandered out of his crease, our comfort zone is exactly where we need always to stay. For it is in Christ that we are safe. God is our comfort zone – he is our refuge and strength, an ever present help in times of trouble. [Psalm 46:1]. Hear his words:
‘Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned. [Isaiah 40:1-2]
‘Sing for joy, O heavens, and exult, O earth; break forth, O mountains, into singing! For the LORD has comforted his people and will have compassion on his afflicted. [Isaiah 49:13]
In these troubled times therefore, come and be comforted – trust in the atoning death of Jesus and know that each and every one of your sins is forgiven and that the sufferings of this present time are but temporary – for they are light and momentary compared to the eternal weight of glory that is being prepared for you. [2 Corinthians 4:17]. And without minimising in any way your current sadness, if you are grieving today take heart – ‘The LORD is near to the broken hearted and saves the crushed in spirit’ [Psalm 34:18] – ‘a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench’. [Isaiah 42:3].
For if you mourn your indwelling sin and the consequences of living in this fallen world, there is hope because ‘blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven, blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted’ [Matthew 5:3-4].
And hear too what the Book of Common Prayer calls the ‘comfortable words’ of our Saviour Jesus Christ who says to all who truly turn to him, ‘Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. [Matthew 11:28]. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. [John 3:16]
What a comfort it is to know that our sins are forgiven. And what a comfort it is to know that though our weeping may tarry for the night, joy will come with the morning. [Psalm 30:5]
Related posts:
To read ‘T.S. Eliot, Jesus and the Paradox of the Christian Life’, click here
This week I posted on the Somerset cricket supporters Facebook page. I said a few, admittedly optimistic, words about Somerset’s prospects for the upcoming day’s play and said that, win, lose or draw, I was looking forward to seeing them play Kent the week after next commenting that, for me at least, there are few more enjoyable things than watching Somerset play at the county ground in Taunton.
You would have thought that this would have been an uncontroversial view to express on a forum specifically set up for Somerset supporters – but you’d be wrong! Alongside those who ridiculed my suggestion that, given past batting performances, the team might yet do well, others presumably disenchanted by the teams recent batting performances and who clearly think Somerset are only worth watching if they win, responded by suggesting that I should ‘get a life!’
Which got me thinking about what, for some, a life entails.
As a doctor I regularly sit with those whose mental health is so poor that all they want to do is die – and those who mourn the death of those who meant the world to them.
I spend time with those whose cognitive functioning is declining – and those whose chemotherapy hasn’t delivered the cure that had been hoped for. Furthermore I speak to those whose cancer is so far advanced at presentation that an attempt at curative treatment isn’t even an option for them.
I visit those, some of whom are just a few years older than me, who, having had a stroke find themselves in a nursing home – and I console those who, gear themselves up for surgery only to have it cancelled at the last minute meaning that their pain will continue for longer still.
Such are all our lives to a greater or lesser extent and so, in a world full of suffering, we all sometimes need to be distracted by something we enjoy. So yes, because of the life I have, spending a day watching Somerset playing cricket at Taunton is one of the things I like doing most.
It saddens me then when a small minority seem to find it necessary to spoil the pleasure we have in supporting the teams we do by denigrating individuals who have entertained us so wonderfully for so many years. Do they not know how fortunate they are to watch what many are denied the pleasure of because of their life situation? And in a world where we are constantly told we have to be better, where the pressure to prove that we are a success is a constant burden, it’s a shame that they can not enjoy sport for what it is, an opportunity to play, to take part in what is after all just a game, without having always to win.
Of course there’s disappointment when results don’t go the way we might have hoped – but unkindness and rudeness are never justified.
And they make the world, cricketing and otherwise, an even sadder place than, for some, it already is.
Some musings 