I was listening to Bruce Springsteen being interviewed by Dermot O’Leary the other day and honestly, he could have been talking about the Friday Fix!
He was explaining that songs to him, particularly as a teenager, became quiet or meditative prayers. Certain songs, he said, took him to a place that gave him a sense of life and spirituality. Well I couldn’t have put it better myself.
There are songs of adoration such as ‘What a Wonderful World’ (Louis Armstrong); songs of confession like ‘Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word’ (Elton John); songs giving thanks – ‘Thank You for the Music’ (Abba) being an obvious one and songs of supplication like ‘Call and Answer’ (Barenaked Ladies). Like Bruce, I often use songs as prayers. They’re usually more passionate and eloquent than I could ever be.
I’ve been finding it hard lately – to be a human living in ‘unprecedented times’. I feel frustrated with restrictions and angry with decision-makers; I feel worried about where votes might go in the US this coming week and I feel unsettled with what January might bring when Brexit really begins to affect trading. In other words, I feel completely powerless. And that’s not an easy state to be in because the tendency is to start licking your wounds and dwelling on those unnerving feelings to the point of not living life.
It goes against my natural inclination to spend time in the darker places. I tend to want to brush it aside and focus on what can be done to change things or lighten the mood.
‘Lament’ is a major theme in the Bible, especially in the books of Psalms and Lamentations. To lament, according to the dictionary, is passionate expression of grief or sorrow. The psalms of lament are profound poems or songs expressing human struggles and they make up about one third of the entire book of Psalms. They lay before God the trouble and woe of being human and make a request for His help.
This song is most definitely a prayer for me at the moment. I feel grief about a number of things that seem insurmountable.
Father, Father, Father help us Send some guidance from above ‘Cause people got me, got me questionin’ Where is the love?
But then I look back over the last few Friday Fixes and I can start to see the love. Already God begins to answer my prayer as I see love in the tired foster carer; the rainbow chaser; the outcasts and girls; the grieving daughter; the concerned decision-maker and the dweller in the moment.
Just like Bruce Springsteen says “there’s a certain quiet spirituality as these [songs] became quiet, meditative prayers”. Yes indeed, many songs are my prayers.
The Black Eyed Peas have recently updated their song with Jennifer Hudson in support of the Biden/Harris campaign. When you visit their website, it will be the first thing that you come across. You may want to watch it. Or you may not – https://www.blackeyedpeas.com/
My wife, Sue, and I have recently started fostering children. Somewhat scarily for us, we are currently looking after a baby that is teething. We are in our 50s, and feel a huge sense of responsibility … and general inadequacy.
Lots of songs came to mind that might be worthy of being offered for this blog as describing our current state of play and journey: ‘Things can only get Better’; ‘Help’; ‘It’s oh so quiet’ (not); ‘It’s the end of the world as we know it’; and ‘I just don’t know what to do with myself’ all come to mind. However, the song that is currently helping most is a baby song.
As we prepared for the infant addition to our home, some friends offered us a near money-back guarantee on a baby song that they said would calm the most upset of children: ‘Say Hello to the Sun’
The words are very simple and the tune a beautiful and gentle melody.
Say hello to the sun, shining down on me, I love the sun, because the sun warms me
Say hello to the moon, beaming down on me, I love the moon, because the moon guides me
Say hello to the corn, growing strong for me, I love the corn, because the corn feeds me
Say hello to the stars, shining down on me, I love the stars because the stars see me
Say hello to the rain, falling down on me, I love the rain, because the rain cools me
Say hello to the flowers, bright colours for me, I love the flowers, because they gladden me
Say hello to my friends, playing games with me, I love my friends, because my friends love me
Now here’s the thing … it does calm the baby down – perhaps not in a ‘money-back guarantee’ way, but it does have a positive effect. More importantly it calms me and my wife down; soothing our anxiety, encouraging us to be more selfless and more grateful for the things in our world.
I don’t say this glibly or lightly as these are currently very tough times we are living in and the sleepless nights and isolation are catching up on us. We live in Nottinghamshire and are in Tier 2 of lockdown. We are very aware of the current challenges. Our Tier 2 status means we have lost quite a bit of our close support from friends and family who were helping us on the fostering journey by popping round, offering hospitality and sharing child-care responsibilities. At times it has felt like the only things and people we have been able to ‘say hello’ to were each other, the children, and the wonders of our natural world described in the song and created by our loving and generous God.
We’ve got some solace knowing that something is shining on us, beaming down on us, being strong for us and sustaining us. We’ve taken comfort from small moments of peace in a time of chaos. We’ve witnessed innocent joy in the company of toys and books made of bright colours and had playful games amongst the richness of the autumn leaves and pools of rainwater in the street.
If you are in need of a little calmness, respite and some soothing, then do take a listen to the song. It’s not a rock anthem, country classic, piece of vocal perfection or genius song writing, but it has helped us connect a little of who we are, the wonder of creation, our current context and a God who we still passionately believe wants us – and baby – to thrive and flourish.
It’s also not a song that I can offer a money-back guarantee on. I can’t promise that if you listen to it all will be well and every problem will disappear, but it might offer a little perspective and bring a momentary joy that can help get you through the tough days we are too often experiencing at this time. Enjoy
I guess that the address given at our wedding service might have taken some people by surprise. It started with the words “Everybody here is thinking of weddings, while I am thinking of funerals”. But then again, the person giving the address was my Dad and we’ve come to expect the unexpected from him over the years!
The thing that had got him thinking about funerals was that we had chosen a rainbow theme for our invitations, order of service and so on. The rainbow in this context was that weddings are about endings and beginnings – that we were ending our lives as singletons (as Bridget Jones would say) and starting a new life together.
I’ve always loved rainbows – my teenage bedroom wall had a huge one stretching across it – and just this morning as I sat down to jot these thoughts down, a full rainbow appeared in the sky over Grimsby. God-incidence?
Rainbows have many meanings but it seems that most of the meanings tend to be reminders about love, hope and new life. Whether it be the rainbow flag of Pride, or the rainbow bridge of Norse Mythology linking earth with the gods, or the Celtic pot of gold waiting for you.
This song by Shed Seven is full of the melancholy that yearning and hoping can be wrapped up in. We often think of being hopeful as being an optimistic and positive thing but being hopeful can be the hook, the connection, the thread that pulls us through the depths of despair. Hope can exist in our most darkest of places.
I could deny But I’ll never realize I’m just chasing rainbows All the time
‘Chasing rainbows’ means trying to pursue the impossible or unattainable. There are moments, days and significant times in our lives where things may feel unattainable or unachievable. I know that there have been times in 2020 (where we’re living with Covid-19 in some kind of half-life) that have perhaps led some of us to feel that we’re chasing rainbows all the time.
But rainbows have an element of surprise. We get excited when we see one. We look to see if it’s a full one or a double one. They can be fleeting or they can be there for a while. They raise our hopes and bring us light.
And for those of us with a Christian faith, they remind us of God’s promise right back in the Book of Genesis – “When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” (Gen 9:16)
Perhaps ‘chasing rainbows’ is all about chasing hope. Some may think that that’s unrealistic, or a waste of time, or pointless. But for me, there is always the promise of love, of new life, of hope and I really don’t mind if you find me chasing rainbows – all the time!
I recently saw an interview with P!nk and was particularly drawn to the lyrics of ‘Stupid Girls’:
‘Where, oh where, have the smart people gone?
Oh where, oh where could they be?
Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
Porno Paparazzi girl, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blond hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl
Disease’s growing, it’s epidemic
I’m scared that there ain’t a cure
The world believes it and I’m going crazy
I cannot take any more
I’m so glad that I’ll never fit in
That will never be me
Outcasts and girls with ambition
That’s what I wanna see’
I have a daughter who has just turned 6 and I am already very aware of the influence of the wider world on her, and the messages she receives around who and what she should be.
I had always understood the story of Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-42) to be about sitting at the feet of Jesus vs being busy, until I heard Richard Rohr speak about being challenged on this interpretation of the text – when your wider family gathers, is it like mine in that the men gather in the lounge to talk about ’important things’, while the women gather in the kitchen to aid food prep?
Rohr suggests that maybe Jesus was actually challenging the status quo, saying that women also have the right to an education, to have an opinion, to be able to express that opinion and be heard. Perhaps, it wasn’t about studying vs being busy, but a statement of equality.
38 As Jesus and the disciples continued on their way to Jerusalem, they came to a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 Her sister, Mary, sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to what he taught. 40 But Martha was distracted by the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, “Lord, doesn’t it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come and help me.”
41 But the Lord said to her, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! 42 There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.”
Outcasts and girls with ambition, that’s what I wanna see …
Music is incredibly emotive and can transport you back in time in an instant. It has the power to lift your mood, make you nostalgic or make you cry.
My story takes me back 13 years to a most difficult time in my life. My mother had just died of cancer and I was struggling with life. She was most organised and spared us many of the overwhelming decisions that you have to make following the death of a loved one.
She had almost written her own funeral service all that was left for us to do was to find pictures of her for a running powerpoint to be seen before the service started. As I sifted through the photos, I listened to lots of melancholy music as it suited my mood.
I don’t even know how I came to it but I found this song by Kate Bush. Her voice has always been mystical and haunting and the beginning of this song is just beautiful and simple. I have tears in my eyes just thinking about it. The song is actually about a man who is waiting for his wife to give birth and thinking about life before this enormous change in his life but to me the words took on a different meaning,
‘Pray God you can cope…… now starts the craft of the Father’ – for me this was me speaking to her as she left us and we entrusted her to God’s care.
‘I know you’ve got a little life in you yet I know you’ve got a lot of strength left’ – this was me imploring her not to give up but to stay with us for a bit longer. Selfish I know because she was ready to go.
‘I should be crying, but I just can’t let it show I should be hoping, but I can’t stop thinking’ – this was me trying to be brave but failing.
‘Of all the things I should’ve said That I never said All the things we should’ve done Though we never did All the things I should’ve given But I didn’t Oh, darling, make it go Make it go away’ – all my regrets at missed opportunities and things that were said that we didn’t mean or things that weren’t said that we should have said. Please God take away this hurt. It’s too hard.
‘Give me these moments back Give them back to me Give me that little kiss Give me your hand’ – I just didn’t want to face what my life would be like without my biggest supporter, my listening ear and my reassurance when I was questioning.
This song was played on a loop as it gave me permission to cry. It reached deep down and touched parts that nothing else could reach.
As time passed, I came to need it less and less and I forgot about it until one afternoon at my best friend’s house. We were binge watching ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ and it was at the beginning of a particularly harrowing scene where the Handmaids were facing certain death.
All of sudden the familiar introduction played over the top of this scene and it completely took my breath away. I couldn’t watch the events unfolding alongside this special song so we had to watch on mute. This is particularly surprising because I am notorious for not noticing background music and lyrics to songs but this one still had that power and impact.
This song has such an effect on me that even writing about it has made me cry and I’m not even listening to it. Thank you Kate Bush. My interpretation of your words and your haunting voice and melody bring back feelings that I thought were gone but it just goes to prove that you don’t recover from the death of someone you love you just get better at living with the loss. I love you Mum and always will.
Welcome to the song that I always associate with this time of year.
September. The month that often sees changes that we know are coming but are not quite sure what, and how, those changes will be.
As a child, it was the month that brought changes – a new teacher, a new class, a new friend.
As a teenager it often brought a change in relationships, a change of look, a change in your life’s journey – college, university, job.
As an adult, it’s often brought a sense of renewal too. Maybe it’s because of the tracks laid down in earlier years but there’s still a sense of refreshment and change in the air in September.
This song perfectly captures the ‘what if’ moments in life. Those split second moments where we make a decision that has implications for ever. As Jarvis sings:
Oh, I could have stayed at home and gone to bed I could have gone to see a film instead You might have changed your mind and seen your friends Life could have been very different but then Something changed
September is the month when I said to my flatmate “Yes, I don’t mind your friend staying in your room while you’re away so he can look for new university digs” – which consequently led to me and him saying ‘I will’ roughly a year later. What if I’d said ‘No, I’d rather have the place to myself for a week’? – where would I be now?
Who knows – but I love that this song ventures into areas that theologians continue to debate even today. Are things predetermined or of free will? Are moments like this completely random or a God incident?
Do you believe that there’s someone up above? And does he have a timetable directing acts of love?
Well before you head off down the rabbit hole of debate with the great minds of Calvin, Luther, Arminius, Kierkegaard, St Augustine and so on, why don’t we just take a moment to marvel at the mystery of life and of love. That we are only human. That we don’t understand it all and as St Augustine once said ‘We are talking about God. What wonder is it that you do not understand? If you do understand, then it is not God.’
Earlier this year, Jarvis Cocker (lead singer of Pulp) said in Rolling Stone Magazine about this song that it’s “the one Pulp song that seems to crop up. I’ve been stopped by a lot of people who tell me that song was played at their wedding. They walked down the aisle to it!”
Perhaps the words of the last verse capture a tiny bit of the wonder of life and the journeys we take. And that’s something that we can all relate to.
When we woke up that morning we had no way of knowing That in a matter of hours we’d change the way we were going Where would I be now, where would I be now if we’d never met? Would I be singing this song to someone else instead? I don’t know but like you just said Something changed
Methodists have long been known as being ‘born in song’ and indeed much of our theology is found within the hymns that we sing, both in our public worship and private devotions. Yet I am also aware that it is not only the songs that we find inside our tradition that can speak to us.
As a child from the Walkman era with its radio cassettes and the TV show Top of the Pop’s I know that many profound faith statements can be discovered within what is often designated as ‘secular’ music.
As a fan of both The Bangles (below) and Simon & Garfunkel, I have always loved the poetry contained within the song ‘A Hazy Shade of Winter.’ Despite initial appearances and the title, this song is not about the weather, the seasons or the time of year at all. Yes, records do show that Paul Simon wrote it during his time in England and it’s a fair bet that the ever-unpredictable English weather provided the beginnings of an idea for him; however, the song is about how at a point in time, our journey through life can change. The opening, and haunting refrain captivates me each time I hear it “Time, time, time, see what’s become of me”
For some the time away from the church building, business and fellowship left us with an ache. As human beings we are designed for company and community, which is why I don’t ever recall Jesus sending the disciples out on any solo missions, and even those who walked towards Emmaus did so as a pair, keeping each other company as the discussed their sorrow, and yes we weep with those who mourn at lives lost during this time.
For others of us the time became a space for rest, from overfilled diaries, expectations, from ‘ought’ and ‘must’. Suddenly and without much warning time took on a Sabbath element, which will come easier to some than others. Maybe you had time to read and do all the things on your to-do list?
For others not much changed, diaries and schedules remained full. Back-to-back meetings on Zoom, Teams or whatever electronic platform was keeping track of your ‘Work from Home’ time. Indeed for some that transition time which was once spent on the commute into work (if you had one in the first place) was now spent at the computer checking emails much earlier in the day, and much later into the night. Time which was mainly defined as either at work or at home shifted for many, bringing with it a new search for a sustainable and helpful work/rest balance.
Actually, I think it would be fair to say that we all will have, and will continue to, experience our time within an array of these roles, emotions and situations.
It is also true that we all experience the same amount of time. The same 60 minutes of an hour, the same 24 hours of the day, the same 7 days that are in the week. As we each begin to look back on our time spent inside our homes, I wonder what it is that we see?
Do we see that the time we took to light a candle or to clap outside our doors and in our streets has aided us in remembering those who were spending their time caring for others?
Do we see that time when we smiled and thanked our postie or the shop checkout operator that we were, in fact, thanking all those whose role as frontline workers kept our food supplies and essential needs going?
Do we see that by restricting our numbers in shops, not sitting in close contact in enclosed spaces, and not gathering in large groups we were demonstrating how much we loved our neighbour?
Yet at the same time whilst the examination of time found within ‘A Hazy Shade of Winter’ is mostly reflective, it also contains the exhortation to “Hang on to your hopes, my friend…” and so here’s a thought:
I wonder if, when the right amount of time has passed, we will look back and see that despite (or maybe because of) the times where we have struggled with silence, or hesitated to stop and be still in the times of anxiety, or if like me, have spent far too much time wrestling with the solitude, (has anyone been able to befriend isolation?) we have continued to experience those timely moments in which we recognise God’s presence with us anew? Aiding us with the recollection that, whilst we may have spent time these past months keeping socially distanced from each other, and even on our own, and may have a times even felt distanced from God, God in Jesus through the Holy Spirit has been keeping the covenant promise and has been with each one of us all this time?
It’s a song that has been with me for almost 35 years, but my relationship with it has changed and taken on different meaning and significance over those years. But the song is, and always has been my friend.
The song is “This is the Sea” by the Waterboys.
I first encountered it in my student days in Leeds in the late 1980s. I saw the Waterboys live a couple of times and had their albums. The classic track “The Whole of the Moon” became the anthem for my course members – we knew the actions… (!) and it would resonate in the pubs whenever we were out together, and at subsequent reunions in the years to follow.
But my relationship with “This is the Sea” is personal, not corporate.
I loved the song from the first time I heard it when all it was to me was a great piece of music to listen to. It was “love at first sight” in that sense. When it took on new and deeper meanings later in life, I still maintained that baseline affection for it too. Some songs are just like that. I will never tire of listening to it (although sometimes I will choose to avoid it – see later!).
Fast forward twenty years or so, and something very significant happened to me and my relationship with the song.
I had been through some tough phases in my life. I’d made some big mistakes. My wife had supported me in ways I cannot even get my head around. I had been treated for depression. I ended up going to see a Christian Counsellor to help me with my troubles, who was absolutely superb.
That short paragraph covers a long period in my life which included much joy too… but I guess that story is not really the point of this story.
I was on my way home from a counselling session and I put my music on in the car and “This is the Sea” came on. I turned it up, let it play, and it spoke to me in a whole new way, and instantly formed part of my therapy.
The song has a mantra: “That was the river… but this is the sea”, and in those few, repetitive words I found healing, hope, optimism for the future, and I keep on finding it whenever I’m in need. It places me at an emotional turning point and encourages me to look for the bright path forward. The session I had just left contained a visualisation of me standing with Jesus looking out into the future, a bright, expansive future and I was surrounded by his hope and reassurance, and my song put that image to music for me. What was behind me was merely the river, but ahead of me was a wide, expansive, open, vast, sea filled with endless possibilities and potential. A reassurance of a better place beckoning..
The song is so structured that I found it talked to many of the darker phases of my life and pshcye.
· It talks to the times when I feel “weary”… and tells me that my tiredness will lift.
· It talks to me when I feel nostalgic for how things used to be and I have regrets… and shows me a new hopeful way.
· It talks to me when my faith is failing and I’m losing my anchors in life… and it reinstates them.
· It talks to me about the times when I have a “war in my head” that is “tearing me up inside”… when I feel that desperate… and it tells me things can be and will be OK…
The thing, however, with all of the above times and phases of life is when we’re struggling, we’re struggling. When it’s dark, we sometimes have to just be in the dark for a while, and looking to the light hurts too much. Sometimes, therefore, I simply cannot take listening to the song. Sometimes I have to sit tight and feel bad for a while, and the song is at those times just too optimistic for me to take. But somehow I always know it’s there. Somehow I can always tap into the hope that it (and all the thoughts and emotions associated with it) holds for me.
It’s my friend, and I know it’s always there for me.
As the song settles reassuringly into its last verse, it talks of the “train” that’s “coming on down the line”. There’s an obvious ‘Gospelly’ feel to this… we “don’t need no ticket… we don’t pay no fee”. This always reminds me of the priceless close family connections, the church connections, the work and friendship connections… all those vital connections I have… where I will find my hope and future can be found… it reminds me we’re all on a journey and are all there to support each other… but vitally to be supported when its’s our turn…. We’re all invited onto the train to journey together… to move forward, leaving the river behind us, and venturing on towards the vast sea that awaits.
Awesome stuff.
Thank you Mike Scott, because that was the river… and this is the sea.
These things you keep; you’d better throw them away
You wanna turn your back on your soulless days
Once you were tethered; and now you are free
Once you were tethered; well now you are free
That was the river. This is the sea!
Now if you’re feelin’ weary. If you’ve been alone too long.
Maybe you’ve been suffering from a few too many
Plans that have gone wrong
And you’re trying to remember how fine your life used to be
Running around banging your drum like it’s 1973 (nostalgia)
Well that was the river. This is the sea!
Wooo!
Now you say you’ve got trouble; you say you’ve got pain
You say’ve got nothing left to believe in
Nothing to hold on to; nothing to trust; nothing but chains
You’re scouring your conscience; raking through your memories
Scouring your conscience; raking through your memories
But that was the river. This is the sea, yeah!
Now I can see you wavering as you try to decide
You’ve got a war in your head and it’s tearing you up inside
You’re trying to make sense of something that you just can’t see
Trying to make sense now and you know you once held the key
But that was the river. And this is the sea!
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah!
Now I hear there’s a train; it’s coming on down the line
It’s yours if you hurry; you’ve got still enough time
And you don’t need no ticket and you don’t pay no fee
The Friday Fix 