Patsy McGarry, thank you! The sectarianism of our society would be laughable if it wasn't so bitter. I would have liked to hear more of the detail behind this story: that a Donegal Atheist has had to be buried outside Donegal - in Derry City Council cemetery - because Donegal graveyards require a religious ceremony (possibly because Churches own and maintain the ground). I'm sad that Christians can't find room for atheists - even dead ones - in their churches.
But I did laugh when I read that the cemeteries department employee, when asked whether the deceased in question had been interred in a new Atheist section of the cemetery, they replied "No, we're putting her in with the Protestants." That doesn't sound like the way a Protestant would express it. I guess that's appropriate enough. Atheism is a form of Protest, after all.
It all ties in with the frustration my NZ friend is having, filling in job application forms, and having to designate herself as Protestant or Catholic etc for the Equal Employment Opportunities Monitoring Form. I know it's meant to protect against discrimination. However, there are times when the requirement to choose between apparently mutually exclusive options just doesn't represent reality
or sanity.
Friday, 29 August 2008
Thursday, 28 August 2008
A song for Nireland
A New Northern Ireland anthem. Congratulations to Monty on his valiant attempt to provide local soccer fans with something worth singing.
Now, we need some big celebratory events to make it part of our shared culture. That shouldn't be too hard, should it? I wonder...
Now, we need some big celebratory events to make it part of our shared culture. That shouldn't be too hard, should it? I wonder...
What's the Password?
This really made me laugh, so I have to share it.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/shropshire/7585098.stm
But I won't be opening any accounts with Lloyds TSB... would you?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/shropshire/7585098.stm
But I won't be opening any accounts with Lloyds TSB... would you?
Monday, 25 August 2008
Olympic medals tables with a difference
It has taken the US to be knocked off the top spot, for someone to finally publish Olympic medals tables that reflect a more diverse set of criteria than the number of golds won. Medals per head of population; medals in relation to GDP... it certainly changes the way you look at the world. Have a look and ask if you know where all these places are, and what they won. It might change the perception of who the real heroes are.
Then I wonder what happens the majority of the populations of these countries who have no access to sports facilities, and what it has taken for the elite few to make it to the Games.
Does the success of a few at very high levels inspire investment and a generation of younger sports fans to train themselves for success? If so, does that stimulate a more disciplined, hard-working economy and a lifestyle that fosters stability, providing security for young and old? I'd like to believe so. Not a panacea by any means, and not the whole story. But sport is a hang sight better than prostitution and wage slavery, for those who can get into it.
Then I wonder what happens the majority of the populations of these countries who have no access to sports facilities, and what it has taken for the elite few to make it to the Games.
Does the success of a few at very high levels inspire investment and a generation of younger sports fans to train themselves for success? If so, does that stimulate a more disciplined, hard-working economy and a lifestyle that fosters stability, providing security for young and old? I'd like to believe so. Not a panacea by any means, and not the whole story. But sport is a hang sight better than prostitution and wage slavery, for those who can get into it.
Monday, 11 August 2008
So much for a quiet, lazy summer!
The last fortnight has been full of faces. 80 new international students here to improve their English in advance of their courses starting in September, converge on a quiet campus well outside the city. They have so much to adapt to. The language, our accents, the lie of the land, the food, and of course, the weather. Lots of it. Does nobody tell them to buy a Gore-Tex before they come here? And a fleece? Apparently not. But they do have umbrellas. Just as well.
It's a privilege to be here to welcome them, to try to be a friendly face, to offer a bit of fun, and link them to some locals, so they can practice their English. Whiteabbey Presbyterian Church has been really hospitable, welcoming, and delighted to receive forty of them last Thursday night for table tennis, pool, Jenga... green tea ... and it seems they particularly enjoyed the apples!
I had lunch today with the three girls from Taiwan and Carlo, an Italian. Really chilled. Not too much conversation, but plenty of fun with the Jenga. I hope we can do this regularly!
It's a privilege to be here to welcome them, to try to be a friendly face, to offer a bit of fun, and link them to some locals, so they can practice their English. Whiteabbey Presbyterian Church has been really hospitable, welcoming, and delighted to receive forty of them last Thursday night for table tennis, pool, Jenga... green tea ... and it seems they particularly enjoyed the apples!
I had lunch today with the three girls from Taiwan and Carlo, an Italian. Really chilled. Not too much conversation, but plenty of fun with the Jenga. I hope we can do this regularly!
Tuesday, 22 July 2008
I'm back!
These long light evenings are wonderful... That's why Littlun hasn't been settling to sleep. Sneaking out of bed to look out the window, to tell stories to her toys, to make a nest on the floor. Ten thirty every evening, the first sound of silence... It doesn't leave a mummy with much free time for blogging. Worse than that, I've foolishly tried several methods to engineer an earlier dose-off, entirely without success. The books, bless them, provide entertaining reading, but I think Littlun must have got there first. Always several steps ahead...
Psalm 127 comes as relief to me today. She's a gift, this child, and the songwriter grants me hope, rest. The sense that if God is building a House, and our children (all children, of every age) are God's gift, I needn't stress to fix, change or manipulate them into good behaviour.
So today I will celebrate the people around me, receive them as God's gift, and be as merciful and gracious to them as I would hope they could be to me.
And I'll stop worrying about how I'm going to marry work and the school run. Today I'm going to live by priorities of peace and grace, justice rather than religious idealism, and perhaps I'll find God leading me through the multiple choices one at a time.
No idea whether that will lead to more or less posts. Time will tell.
Psalm 127 comes as relief to me today. She's a gift, this child, and the songwriter grants me hope, rest. The sense that if God is building a House, and our children (all children, of every age) are God's gift, I needn't stress to fix, change or manipulate them into good behaviour.
So today I will celebrate the people around me, receive them as God's gift, and be as merciful and gracious to them as I would hope they could be to me.
And I'll stop worrying about how I'm going to marry work and the school run. Today I'm going to live by priorities of peace and grace, justice rather than religious idealism, and perhaps I'll find God leading me through the multiple choices one at a time.
No idea whether that will lead to more or less posts. Time will tell.
Sunday, 8 June 2008
A drop of the hard stuff
Hard stuff - courage, that is.
Surfing for other information, I came across the Sunday homily from Clonard Monastery today. And courage is what I thought of.
Like the courage I thought of when I heard on Radio Ulster this week a young man, Stephen Scott, tell his story of being set upon and left for dead by three "men" because of his being gay. He told how he had been bullied at school, how he had felt suicidal, how he would have stopped being gay if he could... and how he wouldn't have minded a one-to-one fight... but he spoke of the injustice of being pulled to the ground by a gang of three. Cowardly injustice. Compare and contrast.
The homily today challenged us as Christians to follow Jesus in befriending the people that seem somehow to fall short of God's plans for them, to listen to them, to walk with them, and love them. It wasn't just a criticism of Iris Robinson's remarks on the Stephen Nolan Show. (There's plenty of that here.) It challenged the cultural expectation that "good" and "upright" citizens and leaders feel the need to distance themselves, to identify gay sex as "an abomination" as the hypocritical self-righteousness that it usually is.
Jesus used to get criticised for the low company he kept. But these days his followers seem to have got over that criticism. Protestants and Catholics alike (and other religions too) - and perhaps the most religiously commited most of all, are prone to the deadly and contagious virus of judgmentalism. It seems to me the only courageous way forward is to love unconditionally, and trust the Holy Spirit to sort out whatever is on God's agenda and priorities, in God's own time. Whatever it says of my orthodoxy or otherwise, trusting God to do the judging is the test of whether we believe Jesus or not.
Surfing for other information, I came across the Sunday homily from Clonard Monastery today. And courage is what I thought of.
Like the courage I thought of when I heard on Radio Ulster this week a young man, Stephen Scott, tell his story of being set upon and left for dead by three "men" because of his being gay. He told how he had been bullied at school, how he had felt suicidal, how he would have stopped being gay if he could... and how he wouldn't have minded a one-to-one fight... but he spoke of the injustice of being pulled to the ground by a gang of three. Cowardly injustice. Compare and contrast.
The homily today challenged us as Christians to follow Jesus in befriending the people that seem somehow to fall short of God's plans for them, to listen to them, to walk with them, and love them. It wasn't just a criticism of Iris Robinson's remarks on the Stephen Nolan Show. (There's plenty of that here.) It challenged the cultural expectation that "good" and "upright" citizens and leaders feel the need to distance themselves, to identify gay sex as "an abomination" as the hypocritical self-righteousness that it usually is.
Jesus used to get criticised for the low company he kept. But these days his followers seem to have got over that criticism. Protestants and Catholics alike (and other religions too) - and perhaps the most religiously commited most of all, are prone to the deadly and contagious virus of judgmentalism. It seems to me the only courageous way forward is to love unconditionally, and trust the Holy Spirit to sort out whatever is on God's agenda and priorities, in God's own time. Whatever it says of my orthodoxy or otherwise, trusting God to do the judging is the test of whether we believe Jesus or not.
Tuesday, 3 June 2008
Justice Woman
Maybe I should abandon the Spiderwoman ideas. Ciara McVeigh, age 10, St Joseph's Catholic Primary, Brighouse, has a much better idea!
Indeed. And so...
A reflection on Psalm 85:
I am Justice
I contribute to wholeness
by valuing all people rightly
(For this I need my brother Mercy)
by acknowledging the guilt, pain & wrongdoing
of all
(For this I need my sister Truth)
by establishing new, generous relationships
(For this, I need my partner, Peace)
I am Justice
Without Mercy I become Revenge
Without Truth I become Oppression
Without Peace I drown in demand
Indeed. And so...A reflection on Psalm 85:
I am Justice
I contribute to wholeness
by valuing all people rightly
(For this I need my brother Mercy)
by acknowledging the guilt, pain & wrongdoing
of all
(For this I need my sister Truth)
by establishing new, generous relationships
(For this, I need my partner, Peace)
I am Justice
Without Mercy I become Revenge
Without Truth I become Oppression
Without Peace I drown in demand
Armagh, 26th April 2008
Monday, 2 June 2008
In the pink...
It's been some time... but I haven't fallen off the face of the planet, or even down the side of the Europa Hotel... well, I did do that, but I had two ropes to stop me turning into mush at the bottom! The worst moment was right there, between the E and the U of Europa, between the roof and the drop. The "Does-my-bum-look-big-in-this-well-good-cos-I-need-all-the-padding-I-can-get" moment. The "eu" of Greek words usually means "good". Strange how you can be in the middle of goodness, and totally focussed on something else, not feeling anything resembling good! [Note to self: cheesy sermon illustration.] I bet EuRopa means Good Rope in Greek. No? Would be poetic, but unlikely, don't you think? A glance at wikipedia suggests "wide-eyed" is the etymology. That works too.
Aargh, it's way past my bedtime. I'm just too busy living to have time to blog. I hardly have time to read my friends' blogs. But I do have time to climb Cave hill with a friend, to write a hasty sermon, to tell endless stories to my daughter...
When I've finished that, and the PCI General Assembly, and chairing my Board meeting, I'll get back to you! (eventually... someday...soonish, perhaps...)
What I WILL take time to say is Thanks. I've been amazed by the generosity of those of you who sponsored my abseil for Habitat for Humanity NI. Let's be honest. I never thought I'd get anywhere near the target of £1235; but already we're at £800.
Now I believe it really might be possible to aim for the "house" (i.e. the average cost to HFH of building a house for/with a poor family in the developing world.) Your generosity increases my faith. Question is, what should I do to raise the other £400? Suggestions anyone?
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
Taking the Plunge and Falling House Prices
I hate fundraising. Hate asking for cash. Even in a good cause.
But I've agreed to step off the roof of Belfast's Europa Hotel in celebration of Habitat for Humanity, who bring communities together to build houses and communities where once people like us burned our/their neighbours out.
I know house prices here are falling, but have you heard this? The average cost of building a Habitat house in the developing world is... £1250. There must be quite a few people around here paying that monthly. The world is "ill-divid". I wonder how many folk spend that on a holiday... or one of several holidays...
The Europa was (for 25 years or so, according to urban legend in my youth) Belfast's most bombed hotel.
Now, it's probably one of the safest buildings in Europe. On the inside anyway. I'm counting on the abseiling instructors knowing their stuff to make my Spiderwoman descent a thing of beauty, and not in the way that strawberry jam can be beautiful. (No more bombing in Belfast, right?)
Oddly though, I know the hardest thing about this whole process is not stepping off a building, relying on a string or two. It's asking for people to give. But unless YOU want this blog to become a place for my psychotherapy, I think I'll ponder that one silently for a little longer. (Meanwhile, if you want to ease my angst, click on the widget over there... to the right, and make a donation to Habitat!)
But I've agreed to step off the roof of Belfast's Europa Hotel in celebration of Habitat for Humanity, who bring communities together to build houses and communities where once people like us burned our/their neighbours out.
I know house prices here are falling, but have you heard this? The average cost of building a Habitat house in the developing world is... £1250. There must be quite a few people around here paying that monthly. The world is "ill-divid". I wonder how many folk spend that on a holiday... or one of several holidays...
The Europa was (for 25 years or so, according to urban legend in my youth) Belfast's most bombed hotel.
Now, it's probably one of the safest buildings in Europe. On the inside anyway. I'm counting on the abseiling instructors knowing their stuff to make my Spiderwoman descent a thing of beauty, and not in the way that strawberry jam can be beautiful. (No more bombing in Belfast, right?)
Oddly though, I know the hardest thing about this whole process is not stepping off a building, relying on a string or two. It's asking for people to give. But unless YOU want this blog to become a place for my psychotherapy, I think I'll ponder that one silently for a little longer. (Meanwhile, if you want to ease my angst, click on the widget over there... to the right, and make a donation to Habitat!)
Saturday, 10 May 2008
Big Ian at the Boyne
The times, they are a-changin'...
Ian Paisley's speech at the Boyne seems to be reproduced here, and makes interesting reading.
I also caught a snatch on Radio Ulster one morning this week of his speech with Martin McGuinness to American business delegates to NI. "Who would have thought..." was his refrain.
Indeed. The mystery remains.
But my guess is that despite his use of the word "miracle", this miracle is not entirely mysterious. There's plenty of human agency at work, sordid turf-wars and treachery within each "side", to the extent that the "war" was no longer sustainable or winnable. That's not to deny that these more positive days are not, possibly miraculous. If the prophet Isaiah could claim that the tyrant Cyrus the Great was to be God's servant, then why not Ian and Martin? Outrageous. Unacceptable. Unreasonable. Unthinkable. And yet, scriptures seem to insist that despite the religious authorities' objections, God persistently uses unlikely candidates to achieve preposterous salvations.
Ian Paisley's speech at the Boyne seems to be reproduced here, and makes interesting reading.
I also caught a snatch on Radio Ulster one morning this week of his speech with Martin McGuinness to American business delegates to NI. "Who would have thought..." was his refrain.
Indeed. The mystery remains.
But my guess is that despite his use of the word "miracle", this miracle is not entirely mysterious. There's plenty of human agency at work, sordid turf-wars and treachery within each "side", to the extent that the "war" was no longer sustainable or winnable. That's not to deny that these more positive days are not, possibly miraculous. If the prophet Isaiah could claim that the tyrant Cyrus the Great was to be God's servant, then why not Ian and Martin? Outrageous. Unacceptable. Unreasonable. Unthinkable. And yet, scriptures seem to insist that despite the religious authorities' objections, God persistently uses unlikely candidates to achieve preposterous salvations.
Monday, 5 May 2008
Streamvale Delights
What a gorgeous day! And we really made the most of it, by heading up to Streamvale Open Farm this morning. Despite the sign which said it opened at 2pm (which is true for weekdays, but not weekends and Bank Holidays) things were really getting started at around 10.30 when we arrived. The regular animals were doing their thing. The cows were mooing like a philharmonic choir at the heifers who'd been popped into the next field. The poultry were cockadoodledooing with delight at the sunshine (or so I told myself), and happily swarmed round our feet to collect the grain Littlun dropped for them. It has to be said, for some of the toddlers, chickens and cockerels are just a bit too big - and those beaks a bit too pointy-looking - for comfort. The piglets have grown, but they are still tiny in comparison to their mum. Littlun LOVED holding the bottle to feed the wee black-faced lamb. And its wriggly waggly tail was a spectacle in itself. I still love the kids - but think it's a shame they have to grow up into goats!
Pony rides, tractor rides to feed the deer, and the new barrel-ride train-thingy all look fun... though ours is disappointingly unimpressed by such things just yet. Patience, patience.
Rabbits to feed with carrots, and baby rabbits to hold in baskets (Better-Half has some cute photos...) pander to the adults' maternal instincts, if not to my daughter's! She preferred the straw-bales and toy tractors... and not a pink one in sight. Hurray!
The climax is a simple lunch, a really good cuppa, and Streamvale's delicious homemade icecream. The chocolate-covered brownie served with ice-cream is a luxury only fully enjoyed if you know you're sharing it, and the calories. Really too good altogether!
Verdict: A really good day out. If you had been staying away because of recent media hype and paranoia, stay away no more!
[The place was only closed for two days, as a precautionary measure, and given the all-clear. If you're cautious, bring wipes and use the hand-washing and alcohol-dispensing facilities on site.]
Pony rides, tractor rides to feed the deer, and the new barrel-ride train-thingy all look fun... though ours is disappointingly unimpressed by such things just yet. Patience, patience.
Rabbits to feed with carrots, and baby rabbits to hold in baskets (Better-Half has some cute photos...) pander to the adults' maternal instincts, if not to my daughter's! She preferred the straw-bales and toy tractors... and not a pink one in sight. Hurray!
The climax is a simple lunch, a really good cuppa, and Streamvale's delicious homemade icecream. The chocolate-covered brownie served with ice-cream is a luxury only fully enjoyed if you know you're sharing it, and the calories. Really too good altogether!
Verdict: A really good day out. If you had been staying away because of recent media hype and paranoia, stay away no more!
[The place was only closed for two days, as a precautionary measure, and given the all-clear. If you're cautious, bring wipes and use the hand-washing and alcohol-dispensing facilities on site.]
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