Category: 2019

British film director, Danny Boyle, is renowned for being passionate about the music that he uses in his films. To him, they are part and parcel of the narrative. He says ‘they inter-breathe with the material you’re using, and I always love that.” A song or a piece of music in a film can be what helps the viewer connect once and for all with the story and message of the film. For Methodists who are ‘born in song’ – these words probably ring true!

Today’s choice is one of those songs for me. It comes from the film, ‘A Streetcat named Bob’ – based on the book by James Bowen about his experiences as a homeless street musician who is adopted by a cat.  A cat that changes his life.

The song is written by Charlie Fink (who was lead singer with Noah & The Whale). It’s sung by Luke Treadaway who plays the main character, James. To me it just perfectly sums up a key message from the film and book – connection with others and how moments with others (even cats – and that’s not easy to say when you’re a dog person!) can lighten up our life and show us the way.

“Who are the people
That make you feel alive?
Are any of them
Standing by your side?
Are you chasing every sunset? Are you facing every fear?
Are you reaching even higher? When your dreams all disappear?”

It takes me straight to the words from 1 Corinthians 12: 26 ‘If one part of our body hurts, we hurt all over. If one part of our body is honored, the whole body will be happy.’ (CEV)

At a time when homelessness is rising rapidly and with recent reports that homeless deaths rose by 22% last year, this story and it’s accompanying songs drive home the message of people who are hurting and the importance of ‘honouring’ those who hurt.

There’s one scene in the film where James is talking to his Social Worker about how having Bob has given him back his dignity and he realises this when a customer who bought the Big Issue from him called him ‘Sir’. 

This scene caused a big reflection for me.  It made me realise that the best thing about buying The Big Issue is that I share a short time with someone who is struggling & vulnerable but who at that moment gets to ask me about my day or can talk about their day or their dog or the weather or their dreams.  They are needed at that moment –  and are providing me with something I want.  I may be showing some caritas – but they’re reflecting it back to me too.

Charity begins at home.  Even if you don’t have one at that moment.

You can find out more about Charlie Fink by visiting http://www.charliefink.co

Gill writes:

Avenham Park, Preston, Lancashire. 26th July 1992. The first ever Heineken Musical Festival in Preston – free music for the whole weekend!

It was a Sunday evening and I was lying back on the grass looking up to the sky – my friends Elaine and Alison lying alongside doing the same. Just listening. Just being. Letting music and the summer evening sun wash over us. In between sets, I decided to have a wander and ventured down to the Big Top to see who was up next.

A woman dressed in black with long, red hair and a guitar hanging across her body adjusting a mic stand glanced up quite nervously and looked across the gathering audience. There she was. There was the singer I had come to hear in particular. Kirsty MacColl. One of my all time heroes. Serious fangirling. The band struck up and I heard the familiar voice begin ‘I was 21 years when I wrote this song…’

Kirsty was such a role model for me as teenager and young adult. I wanted to sing like her. I wanted to dress like her. I wanted to be like her. There was something about her and her music that I felt immediately connected to. She didn’t fit the usual image of a female singer – she wasn’t plastic or shaped by the music industry. She looked like what I thought I would look if I was on stage. You always felt like you were watching and listening to the real Kirsty.

I could have chosen any number of her songs. All of them have a depth and a sense of reality about them – even ‘There’s a guy who works down the chip shop swears he’s Elvis’ rings true. Lyrics that amuse; lyrics that tell the truth; lyrics that capture everyday life.

In the end, I plumped for one of my most favourite songs of hers which was also the first song that she wrote and recorded. She was 16 when she wrote it and it was released in 1979. However, it took Tracey Ullman’s cover of it in 1983 to bring it the recognition that it deserves. I like both versions but if I was pushed to choose, I’d choose Kirsty – just because it’s Kirsty!

If you fancy comparing the two – here’s Tracey’s version:

Kirsty would have turned 60 yesterday – 10th October 2019. I still feel a sense of loss and anger about her death. But I give thanks for how she and her music brought light – and still brings light – to my little corner of the world. Thank you Kirsty.

You can find out more about Kirsty’s music and life at https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/

Nigel writes:

Torn Apart.

It started with a mention on the John Peel show – me and my ‘O’ level schoolfriends used to stay up late listening to the show and then discussed the music played the next day in our maths lessons (the teacher was old and quite hard of hearing so we rarely got into trouble). Then there was a scratchy bootleg cassette tape of a concert covertly recorded by somebody. Then came ‘A’ levels … and still more discussions about what we are talking about today – one of the greatest bands and greatest songs of all time.

In 1980, came the release of this all-time great song by this all-time great band: Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division. In 2012, it was named as NME‘s Greatest Track of the previous 60 years.

It became an anthem for my teenage angst, frustrations about life, attachment challenges, relationship traumas and wrestles with academic studies. Little did I know that as the song gained more and more critical acclaim and then some commercial success that the band’s lead singer, Ian Curtis, would be so traumatised by his own struggles that on the eve of a global breakthrough and tour to the USA, he would take his own life. The tragedy had even more impact for me as he lived in the same area as me and is buried in a cemetery in my home town. His gravestone has the words ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ engraved on it.

Love – or at least the quest for love – had torn him apart. Love can do that. We can want it so bad but our own failings, lack of confidence and desperations can undermine the very thing we want so much. We endure crying in our sleep; experience inadequacy, risk rejection, emotional exposure and can end up unable to function. These are all sentiments Ian Curtis expresses in the words to this haunting and iconic anthem:

When routine bites hard
And ambitions are low
And resentment rides high
But emotions won’t grow
And we’re changing our ways
Taking different roads

Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again

Why is the bedroom so cold?
Turned away on your side
Is my timing that flawed?
Our respect run so dry?
Yet there’s still this appeal
That we’ve kept through our lives

But love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again

Do you cry out in your sleep?
All my failings exposed
Gets a taste in my mouth
As desperation takes hold
And it’s something so good
Just can’t function no more?

Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear up apart again

The song took on an added hypnotic edge because it was produced by Martin Hannett – a hugely influential and genius of a producer who helped U2 become all they did. He took the original recording and worked on it through the night; re-recording at four in the morning the now familiar snapping and shattering snare drum that dominates the track. The dark lyrics, pained vocals and sound production developed an intense version of the song that captured the full angst and uncertainty that was around for many people at the start of the 1980s; angst and uncertainty I was very familiar with.

Having just listened to it again, I can feel the emotions rise and clearly remember the struggles – still there despite many years of processing feelings and emotions. So what’s this got to do with ‘faith’? Well, this song, this search for meaning and love, coincided with my search for faith. I found faith and was able to grow, receive a sense of healing and some hope for the future. Sadly, Ian Curtis never seemingly found faith and greater purpose and decided to end his life. This reminds me that ‘love’ is a complex, multi-layered big word, with lots of nuances, mysteries and possibilities encompassed within it.

At the risk of ending on a cheesy note, my hope is that we will find ‘God’s love’, and that the kindness, grace, compassion and healing it brings will never tear us apart but will instead bring a divine and hopeful new order*.

*a little play on words for those who know what happened to the remaining members of Joy Division …

And if you want to know more about New Order (the band that Joy Division became following the death of Ian Curtis) – here’s their website http://www.neworder.com/

Gill writes:

This week has seen the 50th anniversary (26th September) of the ‘Abbey Road’ album by The Beatles. It was the last album in which all four members participated before the group disbanded.

I would guess that most people have a favourite song by The Beatles. There might be some who say they don’t know any Beatles songs because they’re too young but then they remember that they sang ‘Yellow Submarine’ at school or have sung ‘Hey Jude’ at the top of their lungs at a party.

My first ever album was ‘Rock n Rock Music’ by The Beatles. I remember playing it endlessly. I would come home from school, spend ages deciding which disc to play (ah the joy of a double album), slide the record from the sleeve, set it on 33 (and a 1/3) speed, flop down on the sofa and listen intently. I must have driven my parents spare! One thing is for sure – it began a lifelong love of the fab four from Liverpool.

I lived in Liverpool for a while. I loved it. I still love it. It left a lasting mark on my life and I won’t hear anything said against it. There are other places in the world that have captured my heart and that’s probably why the lyrics to ‘In My Life’ speak to me.

“There are places I’ll remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone, and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends, I still can recall
Some are dead, and some are living
In my life, I’ve loved them all”

Perhaps it’s being the ‘daughter of a manse’ that ‘In My Life’ resonates so much with the many places I called home. Or perhaps it’s being an adult who took the MAYC principle ‘live on a large map’ quite literally. Or perhaps I’m just getting older so people and places mean so much more to me. Whatever it is, the words from this song help me to acknowledge that life is a journey. That people come and go – and they leave their lasting mark on your life. That we may visit places only once but being there can stay with us forever. What can hold all of this together is love – love for people and love for those places that can mean so much to us. And this track just tips me the wink to take time, remember and give thanks.

https://www.thebeatles.com/

Bruce wrote the following in his blog (https://revbrucethompson.wordpress.com/) a couple of weeks ago and is happy for us to share it with you:

Karen and I have recently been to the cinema. We went to watch Blinded by the Light. It’s the story of Javed a British-Pakistani Muslim teenager coming of age in 1980s Luton.

The comedy drama is based on the memoirs of journalist and documentary maker Sarfraz Manzoor and is directed by Gurinder Chadha, who was responsible for Bend it Like Beckham. So Blinded by the Light is a sort of ‘Sing it Like Springsteen’.

In the film Bruce Springsteen’s lyrics speak to Javed like nothing else. There is resonance between the working class struggles of Springsteen’s New Jersey and Luton England. There is a deep connection between the composer and the listener when addressing the relationships that so often concern and confuse a young adult making their way in the world.

In my own teenage years, during the 1970s, it was the music of John Lennon, Simon & Garfunkel and even the Sex Pistols that spoke to me. The Troubles in Northern Ireland were at their height, there was the Three Day Week, the Winter of Discontent and the ever-present threat of nuclear war. It was an interesting time to wrestle with adolescence. The lyrics of the songs I listened to in my bedroom helped open my mind to something beyond the immediate; they made me question my existence, and analyse what was going on in my life. Indeed I am quite prepared to say that they played a significant part in my becoming an ordained Christian minister.

It was the spiritual that sustained slaves in their long torment, and then drawn upon to help liberate them. A century ago music hall songs and brass bands inspired men and boys to volunteer for the trenches; five decades later the civil rights movement and anti-Vietnam war demos were fuelled by their anthems.

Music is a powerful force; couple it with the right lyrics and almost anything is possible: from Gregorian chant lifting the 9^th and 10^th century Roman Catholic congregations into the heavenly realm or the hip hop of today transporting those on the dance floor to a very different place to the one that is so constraining.

Few can escape the influence of music on our lives. Get into the car and the radio may be tuned to light pop music or relaxing classics. Arrive at the supermarket and the sound system is playing Christmas songs in November.

Music can be the soundtrack of our years.

I often hear a song from the past and am able to associate it with an event in my life: a summer’s day, a particular experience, a journey, a holiday or a person I have known and loved.

Which of us who tuned into the funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales, will ever forget Elton John singing a variation of Candle in the Wind?

To this day Hymns and worship songs remain a strong feature of Christian worship. I believe that the hymns of Charles Wesley have sustained the Methodist people far more effectively than the sermons and theology of his more famous brother John.

Visiting a Muslim country would not be the same without hearing the Adhan, the call to prayer. And you don’t have to be a member of the Jewish community to be moved by the mourners’ Kaddish.

I recall Natasha Kaplinsky on Who Do you Think You Are? travelling to Belarus and to the city of Slonim where members of her family perished during the Holocaust. There she and her cousin Bennie climbed into the abandoned synagogue where their family had once worshipped. Once inside Bennie, a cantor chanted the mourners’ Kaddish. It was probably the first time the crumbling walls had absorbed its soulful tune since the city’s Jewish community was brutally massacred in 1942.

The film that Karen and I went to see was a reminder, as if we needed it, of how music and song can change a person’s life. It can speak more clearly, more loudly, more eloquently than any great philosophical work. It can be of greater assistance in life than a self-help guide. It can be a prayer to the Divine. It can even unite enemies.

Cyril was a member of the Church in which I grew up. During the Second World War he was a guard in a Prisoner of War Camp. On Christmas Eve he and a German soldier sang Silent Night/Stille Nacht, just as their predecessors had done three decades earlier during the famous Christmas Truce.

I end with the words of a song made famous by British rock singer and musician John Miles:

Music was my first love
And it will be my last.
Music of the future
And music of the past.

To live without my music
Would be impossible to do.
In this world of troubles,
My music pulls me through.

Songwriters: Breyon Jamar Prescott, Michael C. Flowers
© Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

You can find out more about John Miles at https://johnmilesmanagement.com/

https://johnmilesmanagement.com/

https://johnmilesmanagement.com/

https://johnmilesmanagement.com/

https://johnmilesmanagement.com/

If I’m really honest, I would have preferred to use the end clip of the film ‘Rocketman’ with Taron Egerton singing this song but I wouldn’t want to break or abuse copyright laws. That’s not because I dislike Elton singing his own song but because I really connected with this song after following Elton’s life played out on the big screen. I remember it from the 80’s but it took the film to help me to see it in a new light.

I have to admit to not knowing a huge amount about Elton John’s work – I remember his resurgence in the 80’s and that he’s probably what we’d call a national treasure these days.  I quite like some of his songs which was why I was happy to go and watch the film about his life.  I didn’t quite expect to be so moved by the ending, which without giving too much away, shows how even a small bit of unconditional love and support can make the difference.

The film ends with the song ‘I’m Still Standing’ which, after following Elton John’s story, brought a fresh understanding as to what that song is about.  It’s really powerful.  It’s liberating.  It’s authentic.  It’s just fab!

And it brought to mind some understanding of the story about the grain of wheat from John’s Gospel (12: 20-26) “Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you’ll have it forever, real and eternal.”

When we let go, when we are freed from the chains that hold us down – we can really become ourselves; we can really become the person that God made us to be.  When we let go, those old things die.  And when those things are dead, we start to live.  It’s by losing our lives that we gain them.

As a parent of a teenager, I’ve been grappling with ‘letting go’ quite a lot recently – not just of letting go of their childhood but also of letting go of the future that I had mapped out for my adult child.  I’ve been able to embrace the future that my emerging adult wants – not what I want for them! 

The beginning of ‘Rocketman’ starts with Elton John bursting through the door, dressed in what could only be described as a devilish outfit – feathery red wings and horns.  When he leaves, he leaves as his real self.  Filled with light. Unburdened and ready to live again. 

Elton is currently on his farewell tour – Goodbye Yellow Brick Road – and you can find out more by visiting https://www.eltonjohn.com/

Gill writes:

This is such a powerful song. The music captures a sense of anger and impending doom somehow. The lyrics are a heartfelt expression of frustration and despair about an apocalypse that seems to be looming.

“The ice age is coming, the sun is zooming in
Meltdown expected, the wheat is growin’ thin
Engines stop running, but I have no fear
‘Cause London is drowning, and I, I live by the river”

These are words written 40 years ago at a time when the world was living under a cloud of fear – Cold War tension, nuclear reactor accidents, the discovery of the ozone hole and worries of the Thames flooding. Those of us who grew up in the 70’s & 80’s were a generation who wondered whether we would make it to adulthood – and if we did, would there actually be employment for us.

Well we’re still here but these words resonate even more for me today. Today it is not just London that’s drowning. It’s the world that’s drowning and our response seems to be that it will work it’s way out of the problem somehow – without any of us making changes. We seem to carry on as though someone is going to come along and sort it all out for us.

“London calling and I don’t want to shout but while we were talking I saw you noddin’ out,” 

Strummer captures the apathy perfectly in that line.

Last Friday & Saturday, I had the privilege of hearing some people who really know something about climate change. People like Professor Elisabeth Holland who is a co-recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize for her work with the IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) and Al Gore on climate change; Archbishop Emeritus Winston Halapua who talked about how oceans connect us; Professor Mark Macklin who reminded us of the Maori proverb that ‘I am the river and the river is me’.

But the people who moved me the most were young adults from Polynesia who talked about their ongoing relationship with the ocean and weather. Of how Tropical Cyclone Winston devastated Fiji (just like Hurricane Dorian has battered The Bahamas this week) and of how they (as a group of young people) have pushed for their churches to start moving on climate change. Time is of the essence.

Dr Emily Colgan from Trinity Methodist Theological College in New Zealand reminded us using Genesis 2 & Jeremiah 31 that an ecological crisis is a religious crisis. Creation does not exist for human interests. Creation can exist without us. Creation is not dependent on us but we are dependent on creation. God made us mutual custodians of our world. We need to take care of this planet that gives us life – we really, really do.

If you want to know more about The Clash, follow this link https://www.theclash.com/landing

Jane writes:

After a very late watching of the annual Jools Holland Hootenanny (I think August is probably a bit after the fact for a New Year celebration!)  I came across this song by Yola.  Not a song or artist I was familiar with in any way. 

It has a very retro 60’s feeling to it and put me in mind of the greats like Dusty, Pet Clarke and all those other bouffant-haired divas. 

Aside from its familiar feeling it held within it a clear statement that we are often not always present in the things we do, mundane or otherwise and that maybe others see in us a need for something beyond what is current. 

What, I wondered to myself, does my faraway look consist of if I have one.  Is it about sun-kissed beaches?  Un-seen bands?  Un-discovered films?  A plea to be anywhere but here? A longing for something better to come? 

It seems to me that in general life is about being v. present in any given moment (I’ve said as much in the FF) but God also has given us the opportunity to gaze into their preferred future, to seek out a new way and maybe sometimes dream of faraway places and ideals yet unseen. 

Lord 

When we are looking beyond what is current help us to look for you 

Let us be thankful for all our wondering and pondering 

Let us search for justice and peace rather than self-gratification 

Let us recognise all we are blessed with 

Let us search for new ideas and approaches rather than simply live in the known 

Let us be willing to capitalise on that “faraway look” rather than keeping it in our dreams 

For you are an expansive God found in all things 

Amen 

To find out more about Yola take a look at https://www.iamyola.com/

David reflects:

On Guy Garvey’s Birthday in 2017, Elbow were playing the Eventim Apollo, London.  After the opening couple of songs, the onstage screen proclaimed the message ‘Happy Birthday Guy’ and the audience performed an impromptu chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ to the lead singer! Birthday gifts were then passed from the audience. There was a party atmosphere in the venue and an extra connection made between audience and band.  

Towards the end of the concert the band played ‘One Day Like This’.  I noticed a woman to the left of me, plastic cup raised in one hand, the other tattooed arm aloft pointing to the roof, head tipped slightly back singing every word to Guy Garvey.  

She is swaying and moving, sideways, through the packed crowd. Still with eyes fixed firmly on Garvey she bumped into me and bounced off me into the person in front! Her drink spills over that person, my plastic cup is sent flying out of my hand in the direction of the stranger to my right! Taking her eyes off the stage for the first time, she turned to me and smiled an apology and hugged me, while still singing along with the band. I hugged her back and for a line of the song we stood, total strangers, arm in arm singing ‘throw those curtains wide’ – as if we have been friends for years! 

In so many other scenarios a drunken person barging their way through a crowd, spilling their own and other’s alcohol, would create anger and aggression but in the heart of this Elbow crowd we find a connection. 

A fleeting connection. I could have sat next to her on the tube every day for the next month and not recognised her. Yet, a lasting connection. It is the moment of that gig I remember most clearly, and I experienced most deeply.  

It was the anthemic nature of the song. It was the mutual experience of being immersed in a live performance. It was being part of the same audience on the same night and in the same place. Yet more than that, the song was reaching deep into our souls as the band played. When we were thrown together and the connection was made in spirit.  

I know nothing about her and never will but as we threw the curtains wide, arms around each other, we were 2 human beings of 1 spirit.  

You can find out more about Elbow here: https://elbow.co.uk/

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