• ‘Shipbuilding’ – Robert Wyatt

    Jane writes:

    I’m doing some study at the moment and during a recent session I was confronted by a picture of a huge superyacht travelling through the dutch canals on its way to seaworthiness testing. I was immediately taken to two places. The North East where ships were built. Ships so big they blocked the sky and light from the terraced houses made tiny in comparison, and of course this track: Shipbuilding.

    The song itself was written by Elvis Costello and there are many stories about who and how it might be recorded BUT once Robert had been brought in to sing it seemingly there was no other option. It’s a really understated spell-binding performance and this is the one I first saw on the OGWT (Old Grey Whistle Test) as a teen.

    Written in response to the conflict in the Falklands, the song sets out the ever-complex conundrum of the economic benefit of war – replacing the ships lost and the employment that brings – versus the loss of the many men from the same kinds of towns and cities. Men who can never be replaced.

    By now you know how much I love an opening line and this song has an absolute corker that sums it all up.

    Is it worth it?

    It’s not lost on me that it’s around now that we offer our heartfelt respect to all those whose lives have been lost in war. Real men and women, not just numbers. I know, from the stories told within my own family of loss, the pain and agony that war can bring. The young often bearing the brunt. The young taken to task and expecting to be back by Christmas.

    It is fair to say then, that the anger I carry about our continued economic reliance on the creation of armaments for others to use to kill, is pretty much off the scale. Our compliance as a society in the death of thousands of people – military and civilian – just by turning a blind eye to where our money is invested, to where our jobs come from, and even who owns the teams in our hallowed game, is indeed a matter of deep, deep pain. Our willingness to throw our metaphorical weight around in international matters to make us look good and putting our own at risk, a distress-causer extraordinaire.

    Micah and Isaiah both have passages that foresee a world where swords are turned to ploughshares and spears to pruning hooks. Oh, how that resonates here. Why aren’t we building ships to rescue the desperate and fleeing rather than new fleets of “weapons bearing” ocean-going vessels? Why aren’t we using our economic wealth to support countries in developing stable economies and ensuring people have enough to eat and drink, rather than using it to woo wealthy regimes and persuading them to buy missiles from us. Why aren’t we prepared to do the hard work of negotiation and reconciliation rather than thrive from the spoils of discontent? Why aren’t we giving our surplus medical supplies to the global south rather than stockpiling? (Oh, and while we’re on stockpiling, why do we have 125 operational nuclear warheads when 1 is enough to devastate the planet?).

    I’m sure the subtleties could be thrashed out in the pub of an evening or even a chapel bible study group, but for me it boils down to this: EVERY life is precious to God. Every single one. Everyone deserves to live in a world where no-one is

    Diving for dear life

    When they could be diving for pearls

    You can find out more about Robert Wyatt here – https://www.strongcomet.com/wyatt/

  • Together In Electric Dreams – Philip Oakey & Giorgio Moroder

    Gill writes:

    I have a feeling that this song will have somewhat of a resurgence over the next few weeks. Probably not because of this reflection, but because of this year’s John Lewis Christmas Advert!

    I’ve been preparing all week for an All Soul’s service this coming Sunday and this reflection includes a ‘sneak peak’ of where my thoughts have taken me, because, unsurprisingly, life, death, separation and connection are at the forefront of my mind.

    We’re at the point of the church year when we grapple with the fact that love and loss are intertwined.  The cold reality of loss is warmed by precious memories. Over this last week, we might have remembered the saints who paved the way for us and those who we love but see no longer. Next week, we remember those whose lives were cut short by war and conflict.

    This song became very important to me in my late teens when I encountered more than one death of friends who were a similar age to me. I’d encountered the death of older people – grandparents, family and friends – but the notion that death could come calling for people my own age (and younger) was a different kind of grief to me at the time. This song gave me some words that expressed my feelings. It also gave me a melody to blast out at the top of my lungs when I was pootling in my car around the roads of Lancashire.

    Sometimes it’s hard to recognise
    Love comes as a surprise
    And it’s too late
    It’s just too late to stay
    Too late to stay

    Beginning to understand your own mortality is a big step from adolescence to adulthood – perhaps it’s the final step. Coming to terms with the idea that sharing in the lives of others is a gift – a gift to treasure and not take for granted that the gift will be there tomorrow is a great realisation.

    But somehow, those friends who died at such a young age, still live on in my thoughts and memories. I meet them in the songs that I hear; in the places that I visit and in the activities that we shared in.

    Though you’re miles and miles away
    I see you every day
    I don’t have to try, I just close my eyes
    I close my eyes

    I’ve just finished a book – ‘Animal, Vegetable, Miracle’ by Barbara Kingsolver.  She talks of how she is captivated by a Mexican tradition (that was passed down from the Aztecs) called Xantolo held at the end of October/beginning of November; and how a Roman Catholic missionary, who initially set out to rid the people of such heathen practices, began to see the value such a time of celebration where the worlds of living and the dead come together in dance, food and activities.

    Kingsolver began to realise that you can experience Xantolo anywhere.  When she cultivated her garden, she was spending time with her Grandfather as her thoughts flashed back to gardening with him; starting a meal with dessert meant that her Grandmother was there because that’s how Grandma started her meals and picking mushrooms still involved her Dad somehow.  She realised that even though they were physically gone, there was still a thin space of connection.

    Maybe that’s part of what eternal life involves. We’re all on this journey of eternal life when we walk with God; our lives are still connected to those who we no longer see. Love connects us – and as the song reminds us – ‘love never ends.’

    We’ll always be together
    However far it seems (love never ends)
    We’ll always be together
    Together in electric dreams

    Phil Oakey is still with thehumanleague.co.uk – and they are still touring.

    Giorgio Moroder is still composing and you can find more about him at https://www.giorgiomoroder.com/

  • desperately seeking…More Friday Fixes

    We’ve had some fabulous contributions this year from new faces to the blog, and now we’re in need of some crackers to start rounding the year off with.

    As Madonna rightly sings ‘music can be such a revelation‘ so if you have a song that you would like to reveal to us, we’d love to hear from you.

    Just send (thomasg@methodistchurch.org.uk) us your thoughts on a popular song (300-600 words is usual) and we’ll do the rest.

  • ‘Bigger, better, brighter’ – Seize the Day

    Just a little warning that this song contains a strong slang word that one or two might find uncomfortable – but as you read Kristie’s reflection, you’ll see why…

    Kristie writes:

    My faith feels inextricably linked to my concerns for the planet and a belief that many of us need to consume less. Some of my earliest interest into Christianity as a young teenager came whilst looking at what might now be termed eco-theology in some books my URC grandparents had. And so when some years later I encountered this song by Seize the Day, it really resonated.

    The line ‘Got a lot of what I never used to need‘ felt highly relatable, that a feeling of need is fabricated within us. Whilst I long not to be caught by the fantasies of the advertisers, and so intentionally don’t watch ad breaks or even go into shops as I know there will be persuasion to buy things I had no idea even existed, I am aware that I’m not immune and sometimes find ‘a jingle fingers through my soul and I’m twitching to a rhythm‘ that I don’t seem to have much control over.

    Consumerism cries “Heal the hunger in your soul, with a brand new filling for a brand new hole.” I see how “holey” we all can be, with longings created within us, especially when we get pitted against each other and are coaxed to compare ourselves and want more, or feel we deserve more, or that if we don’t buy stuff we might not be seen as so worthy or desirable. The “because you’re worth it” strapline of a particular company really sticks in my throat. My faith assures me that my or others’ worth has nothing to do with what we ‘treat’ ourselves to, or if we can afford the products promoted. Every one of us has equal worth in the eyes of God.  

    As well as avoiding the creation of so many holes in the first place, I personally have found it helpful instead of buying stuff, to mourn our losses and our longings and instead heal through a sense of being loved by God. I don’t believe greed is bigger than God. But greed appears to be rampant and has a devastating impact. A long time ago I was inspired by Schumacher‘s “Small is Beautiful” book and this summer found wisdom in hearing Becky Hall talk about “The art of enough” and how we can choose to live with enough growth rather than believe in the ‘bigger is better’ mantra that has massive costs to the planet. Earth Overshoot day gets earlier each year. We need to expose the bigger better brighter message for the fallacy it is.

    I really like how the song goes on to notice how collective action is the answer: 

    I say ‘we’ – what do I mean?

    Just a lot of little people in a big machine.

    Just a lot of little links in a global chain

    Where we want more pleasure so we make more pain … if we get clever

    And we give it up together,

    What a great endeavour when we pull the plug. 

    Each time we challenge injustice, buy fairtrade, reuse or reduce rather than buy something new, we make a difference and opt to avoid making pain by instead making our decisions as ethically as possible. There are so many opportunities currently to join with others who are passionate about this.

    There are many songs I like by Seize the Day and an unexpected advantage of living near a fracking site was that they came to play a gig for protesters so I got to hear them live for the first time recently.

    Find out more about Seize the Day by visiting their website – https://seizetheday.org/

    I see they got a bigger bullshit now
    I’d better get a better bullshit now
    Give me a brighter bolder bullshit now
    We’ve got a greener brand of bullshit

    I’m not gullible you won’t catch me
    Getting had by an adman’s fantasy
    Of a supermodel in a talking car
    With a nicotine nipple and a chocolate bra

    As a jingle fingers through my soul
    and I’m twitching to a rhythm that I don’t control
    Itching for a fix down the old arcade
    Where I spent all the money that I just got

    Bigger Better Brighter Bolder bullshit now

    Am I an animal, so programmable,
    A pavlov dog in a revolving door?
    Or a human spirit that has got no limit
    And I ain’t gonna double for a dunce no more

    Say that I won’t but I probably will
    ‘Cos they’ve got my number and they’re ringing it still
    Singing “Heal the hunger in your soul”
    With a brand new filling for a brand new hole

    And it’s all for my freedom of choice
    That a thousand satellites got one voice
    For a TV shopper who remotely votes
    Channel hopping in the cabin of a sinking boat

    Titanic, what’s the panic bullshit now?

    Slave or citizen, same old shit again
    Got a lot of what I never used to need
    While all I’m cherishing is perishing
    Fed to the fetish of a great white greed

    Greed in the boardroom bigger than god
    Using the woman as a wink and nod
    And a prod to the herd that are driving by
    “You can have my body if you buy my lie”

    Somebody in this neighbourhood
    Ought to take those billboards down for good
    Ought to run them dealers out of down
    Ought to take back the power and hand it around

    Start planning for an insurrection now

    I’m not a terrorist, maybe an anarchist,
    A nice bloke, doesn’t wanna hurt no one,
    But if we don’t stop it then our kids are gonna cop it
    And how we gonna pay them for the damage we done?

    I say ‘we’, what do I mean?
    Just a lot of little people in a big machine
    Just a lot of little links in a global chain
    Where we want more pleasure so we make more pain

    And it seems like nobody’s in control
    Just money making money and it’s got no soul
    And it’s got no power but the power we give
    When we doubt that without it we could live

    Imagine – it’s easy if you try

    I’m an idealist – also a realist
    I know it’s difficult to kick that drug
    But if we get clever and we give it up together
    What a great endeavour when we pull that plug

    I’m sick and tired of all the bullshit now
    I think we’re running out of bullshit now
    I’ve had enough of all the bullshit

  • Tonight The Streets Are Ours – Richard Hawley

    Gill writes:

    I love songs like this. Ones that sound light and boppy; that seem like they’ll have a simple message but as they begin to play out, you realise that they pack a punch instead.

    The opening lines sing out about liberation. Of recognising your worth. That life is there for the taking.

    Do you know why you’ve got feelings in your heart
    Don’t let fear of feeling fool you

    What you see sets you apart
    And there’s nothing here to bind you,
    It’s no way for life to start

    I think it is Brian McLaren who talks about God ‘taking the people out of slavery but also the slavery out of the people’. In other words, we’re so used to lifestyles and frameworks within which we live that we can’t see the alternatives to it.  We enslave ourselves.  Or perhaps, as Hawley sings, we allow ourselves to be distracted or caught up in systems that may, or may not be, of our own making.

    Those people, they got nothing in their souls
    And they make our TVs blind us

    From our vision and our goals
    Oh the trigger of time it tricks you
    So you have no way to grow

    Most of us are in some form of wilderness – trying to break the chains of some form of slavery. It could be personal  – fear, addiction, prejudices, worry, attitude, food. It could be social – status, greed, debt, competition, expectations.  It could be global – money, resources, plundering the earth at the expense of our children. What is it that Dietrich Bonhöffer is credited with saying? – “The ultimate test for a moral society is the kind of world that it leaves for it’s children.” 

    But there is hope.

    And no one else can haunt me
    The way that you can haunt me
    I need to know you want me
    I couldn’t be without you
    And the light that shines around you

    The wilderness journey led by Moses was notoriously twisting and turning and we can deal with the twists and turns if we allow God to guide us. If we follow the ‘light that shines around.’

    We’re bound to be tempted to go back to what’s familiar but we’ll receive nourishment and refreshment from quite unexpected sources at times – even popular music would you believe?

    We CAN escape our slavery and with God’s help, we can take the slavery out of us too. 

    Tonight – the streets are ours
    And these lights in our hearts they tell no lies

    Find out more about Richard Hawley at https://richardhawley.co.uk/

  • ‘Dido’s lament’ – Annie Lennox & London City Voices

    Jill writes:

    I have found this haunting since I first heard. It’s one of the songs that I love to sing along loudly to when I need it… most days!

    I love the fact that it has the wonderful voice of Annie Lennox and her very own style while singing this very much older piece of music, which is usually sung in quite a different style. The music shows to me the value of adapting and evolving! It’s a great mixture of old and new… an older style of accompaniment with modern rhythms.

    The choir has a brilliant quality of music but are also very, very disciplined, which I think is what we’ll need to be, together, if we’re going to respond as needed to the climate challenge.

    Annie Lennox says that she imagined the voice of the planet as she heard the words of this song. She imagined a dying planet. She recognised that she wanted not to be remembered for harm to the planet. She wanted to live lightly and not to cause the death of the planet.

    Over all the funerals I’ve taken (well over 500), I lost count of the times that the family would say to me ‘She never did any harm to anybody’. Usually I was trying to find out what positive impact the loved one may have had. The more I thought about the phrase ‘never did any harm’ the more I’ve realised that just by living as our society lives in the UK this was extremely unlikely for any of us. Our way of living on this planet takes too much, costs too much and harms too much to be able to say ‘we never did any harm’.

    The good news is that we are now in a position that we understand this and have the choice to change.

    This song also reminded me of how people with wealth need to take extra positive care for the environment.

    One year the city centre congregation I was working with agreed, as part of our discipleship, to ask every member to do a ‘carbon footprint’ measurement. More than half the congregation had a well below average footprint… just because they don’t own cars, computers, or baths, can’t afford to travel, and have to watch all their electric bills, making difficult choices about whether to keep an active fridge or TV. As a congregation we had an about average footprint for the UK which showed which of us needed to give up more of our privileges.

    I, too, would like to believe that I had given ‘no trouble’ to the earth when I’m in my grave.

    I’d like to be remembered for positive impact rather than for aiming ‘not to cause any trouble’

    But I have a long way to go…

    Find out more about Annie Lennox at https://www.annielennox.com/

  • Dignity – Karine Polwart

    Diana writes:

    There’s a man I meet,

    walks up our street.

    He’s a worker for the Council,

    has been 20 years.

    And he takes no lip of nobody

    and litter off the gutter.

    Puts it in a bag,

    and never thinks to mutter.

    And he packs his lunch in a Sunblest bag

    the children call him Bogie.

    He never lets on, but I know

    coz he once told me.

    He let me know a secret

    about the money in his kitty.

    He’s gonna buy a dinghy

    and call her Dignity.

    I’ll sail her up the west coast,

    through villages and towns.

    I’ll be on my holidays

    and they’ll be doing their rounds.

    They’ll ask me how I got her

    and I’ll say “I saved my money”.

    They’ll say “isn’t she pretty,

    that ship called Dignity”.

    I’m telling this story

    in a faraway sea

    sipping down raki

    and reading Maynard Keynes.

    And I’m thinking about home

    and all that it means

    and a place in winter for Dignity.

    Stand it up, stand it up…

    And I’m thinking about home

    I’m thinking about faith

    I’m thinking about work

    And I’m thinking how good it would be

    to be here some day

    on a ship called Dignity.

    Karine Polwart’s cover of Deacon Blue’s Dignity has kept me company throughout the pandemic. I love the stripped-back simplicity and the clarity of the vocals.

    For a while in lockdown the song was a source of hope – an old friend reminding me to trust there would be a day when travel and freedom would be possible again. In the meantime, it helped me take comfort in the familiarity of the small coastal town where I live. “There’s a man I meet, walks up our street, he’s a worker for the Council, has been 20 years” …Yes. Yes there is. Even at the height of lockdown, I would pass council workers day-by-day on the High Street and we’d smile and say hello as we went about our business. I have been here 4 years, but some of them have been here all their lives, quietly keeping things running, and being paid a pittance for the privilege.

    And now, in the last few weeks, as furlough support and now the uplift in Universal Credit have been scrapped, this song has been reframed for me into something else: a ballad of lament and a reflection on injustice that ignites a flame of anger in me.

    I heard on the news today that the reduction in Universal Credit is the biggest effective cut ever imposed, reducing some people’s income by 10% in the midst of massive rises in fuel costs, and at the onset of winter. I know people, and I bet you do too, whose already tight budgets will be forced into the red by this change. It will rob people of dignity.

    My Christian faith teaches me to pursue a society where God-given dignity is nurtured in all people. It’s not complicated, really. We’re all Jock Tamson’s bairns, created in the Divine Image. In ancient times, the scriptures taught that the widow, the orphan and the stranger were to be accorded special care because of their vulnerability. We are charged with the imperative to look after for those who are most in need. When we fail, this the prophets call us repentance on pain of disaster. Justice, we are told, will roll like a river and righteousness like a mighty stream (Amos 5:4).

    In my mind’s eye, Bogie wraps his sandwiches, in that same old bread-bag day by day, and walks up the street to begin his work. It’s cold and wet, but he trusts that with perseverance and saving he can put a little money by each week. It may be hard graft, but slowly he can build towards a dream for the future.

    Hope and dignity go hand in hand, and this week the ship called Dignity sailed further away from reach for many people.

    As I listen to this song again today, I think about home. I think about faith. I think about work. I think how good it would be, to be here some day with everyone on a ship called Dignity.

    Hope must not be allowed to die. I hear a prophetic voice cry “injustice” and I resolve to stand against it.

    Find out more about Karine Polwart at https://www.karinepolwart.com/

    Deacon Blue are just about to tour the UK – find out more at https://deaconblue.com/

  • Don’t Shut Me Down – ABBA

    James writes:

    ABBA bringing out new music has given great excitement to me. You may think I would write about “I Still Have Faith In You” but it is actually “Don’t Shut Me Down” that has led to much theological reflection. What can this song of a woman to her former lover have to do with Christianity I can almost imagine you ask? I wonder if the same could be said of the Song of Songs if it wasn’t contained in the Biblical canon? Yet we see at the heart of the Bible, a love song.

    This song is about a woman who comes back to try and gain her old lover back. This was clearly a shock to her lover:

    I believe it would be fair to say “you look bewildered”

    and you wonder why I’m here today

    and so you should, I would

    Sometimes when we have changed, or try to make amends, people do seem bewildered. They wonder what our intentions are. People sometimes wonder what our intention is as Christians. A few times I have been part of Christians at Pride and, while most people seem delighted to see us, I have been asked if we are covertly not in favour of Pride. Years of hurt and oppression do not easily go away. Some do look bewildered and wonder why we’re there – and yes, so they should, I would. Yet that is one of the most important places for me to be if I am truly to show the all-inclusive love of God in Christ.

    Will you leave me standing in the hall or let me enter?

    I wonder if that is metaphorically a question we all ask as we engage in sharing the love of Jesus? Or when we try to share our lives and hurts with someone (Christian or not)? When we make ourselves vulnerable, and metaphorically stand in the hall, we do not know how others will react and if they will let us into our lives. That is the risk we take – the Christian faith is full of risk but it is not reckless risk. It is a risk of love. Christ took the risk of love in choosing to live and die for us. We all have to be vulnerable at times and it is in our vulnerability that we are fully human. Perhaps it is in the moments of our transformation we have to be vulnerable. Many of us have had questions about how people would respond on discovering we’d become Christians or started taking our faith more seriously.

    I have learnt to cope, and love and hope is why I am here now

    I wondered at times with depression whether I could carry on – whether my life was worth living. Yet it is the love of God in Christ and the hope that I will one day be united with Christ that has often kept me going. It truly is love and hope which is why I am here. In amongst difficult circumstances and real pain, I have known the hope of Jesus Christ which allows me to stand.

    And now you see another me, I’ve been reloaded, yeah

    I’m fired up, don’t shut me down

    I’m like a dream within a dream that’s been decoded

    When thinking theologically about this song, this line just makes me think of the Holy Spirit within us. The Holy Spirit that spurred me to action. The Holy Spirit who prompted me to become a Local Preacher – something I did not dream I could do (ask my mentor who had to eventually tell me it was time to get in the pulpit and actually preach!), and yet reloaded me with a passion to preach the Gospel. The Holy Spirit who prompted me to stand for full justice and inclusion, both within the church and outside of our walls.

    Often our faith does feel like a dream within a dream. We know there is a story of a better future. We know that God is reconciling the world to Godself through Jesus Christ. Yet we live in a messy, fallen world where we know that things are not as they should be. As Christians we are called to be prophetic; to proclaim what the world can and will be. That isn’t always easy or popular and yet we must be part of that as we pray “your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven”. How do we proclaim that to the world so that makes sense? How do we demonstrate what our faith does in our lives in a way that makes sense to those who know us best?

    I’m not the one you knew, I’m now and then combined

    and I’m asking you to have an open mind

    now I’m not the same this time around

    We all carry around our past experiences, hurts and what we have done. Yet we also change all the time. As the Holy Spirit transforms us, if we are open to her presence, we do become different. We are now and then combined. How do we change? How are we not the same? I wonder how tangibly the effects of our faiths can be seen by those around us? Conversely, do we (with appropriate safety measures as needed!) have an open mind about how others can change? Are we open to seeing what is going on? As a church we are being “changed from glory into glory till in heaven we take our place”. That is quite exciting. I sincerely hope that with all my flaws and imperfections I am not the same in 20 years time as I, hopefully, grow in holiness and faith.

    When others look at you, I hope they will say that you’ve been reloaded and you are not the one they knew; that you are now and then combined. Are you not the same this time around because of the transforming power of the love and saving grace of Jesus?

    Check out abbasite.com to find out more about ABBA.

  • ‘Heaven Knows’ – Robert Vincent

    Jane writes:

    Any track that starts with the line “Open your eyes, disasters are waiting to happen” has got to be worth a listen in my book. It’s such a short song and carries within it a sort of fatalism and yet a strong sense of what really matters when the chips are down.

    There are times in your life when you generally don’t know what the hell is going on. Everything around you seems to be turning into something pretty unpleasant, and the opportunities to understand are limited. You also know it’s not going to get better any time soon, and quite literally the aforementioned disasters hang over your head like an anvil.

    Quite often in such moments, the themes that are distressing seem to be on repeat from other times and places in your existence and as the lyricist writes:

    The patterns are clear

    Only you can appear to address them

    They’re open armed with deceit not too far behind them

    When it all becomes clear

    Only you will be able to stop them

    In their tracks, in their tracks

    But there’s rather an assumption that you have any personal resilience to deal with stuff. In such life moments people will say “lovely things”

    · “It’ll be right”– if they’re from Yorkshire

    · “The Lord knows what he’s doing – he has plans to prosper you not harm you” – well-meaning people of faith who can quote scripture

    · “You’re not alone in this, God is there” – also from people of faith but the less astute kind

    · “You’ve got this” – people who can’t bear that you’re in pain and essentially want you to pull yourself together

    · “Well you can spend your energy on moping about or on being happy” – people who are making assumptions that how you feel is in fact within a hairs breadth of being in your control

    · “Ahhh, it is what it is” – that’s one of my own because I’m at a loss to find a solution and I think some response is better than none

    But there are people who get it. Typically they just love you and put up with you and let you grieve for/about whatever it is that ails you. I’m never sure if you can head off disasters at the pass, or indeed deal with them when they land, and occasionally there is an opportunity for personal agency or of course a cry to God. I wonder though if it’s those who “get you” rather than those who “claim to” that really make a difference.

    When all else fails then, even the lyricist says:

    Disciples will gather

    As your enemies shatter around you

    And you call Heaven knows

    Keep those God-given people close for they are the ones who are the living embodiment of what love is meant to be about. Patient; kind; not self-seeking; protective; hopeful – you know how it goes…

    You can find out much more about Robert Vincent here https://robertvincentmusic.com/