It doesn’t go as planned. It seems ok and then something comes out of left-field to get you and disrupt everything. People you love die, and those you care about who remain are struggling still. I suppose it’s been like that forever but recently we’ve seen a global version of what we already know to be true.
Here she is then – Janis Ian – one of my favorite go-to artists, stating the obvious about life.
She wrote it at a time when her own life was in chaos, having lost all the key things that mattered to her. Her financial security. Her marriage. Her health. And on top then she was aware that her whole life seemed to have been like living through a drought. Add in a pandemic for good measure and the song resonates more than ever.
The sense of loss is apparent and the thinking that “even God may have turned his back” sums up how hard it feels. No hope in sight.
Yet as people of faith we might have a way to see it differently. Endurance is a feature in lots of biblical stories. Throughout the Old and New testaments, people have had to live with courage, persistence, and hope in the toughest of times. Walking in wildernesses. Living in exile. Coping with disease and illness. War. Famine. Rejection. Loss. The themes mirror the way of the human condition, and yet the stories that go with them – finding the promised land. Restoration. Healing. Peace. Unconditional acceptance. Resurrection. All play a part too and God is in it all.
I love the simplicity of this version of this song. No fuss. No embellishment. Just a simple spare sound and the realization that we can make it. We have endured before and we can endure again now. Our resilience is built on the human experience and the knowledge that endurance is part of the fully-rounded life we all lead. Life in all its measure. Every element in abundance. Joy and Pain. Our ability to cope (or not). Our onward journey accompanied by the God of love we know to be ever at our side.
So often listening to music is all about context. The song of a band we have heard on a sunny festival day will always remind us of friends, laughter and warmth. The song played at the funeral of a loved one will also hold the power to take us back to the emptiness of mourning and missing a friend.
I write this as I sit on a train travelling home. I’m safe. I have a ticket. I am allowed to travel from work to my house which is the sanctuary that everyone’s home should be. As I left the office, I had another piece of cake I didn’t need! As so often in my life, I am aware of my privilege.
I spent so much of today thinking about death. The death of 27 human beings who were travelling in the hope of finding sanctuary. Unlike me, they didn’t have a ticket. The country they were travelling to wants to make it illegal for them to come. So much so that we pay a foreign government to make life hell for them before they even get here.
That extra piece of cake sits heavy in my stomach as I know that less than 30 miles from the coast of our country, asylum seekers are being denied basic human rights, including food. Humanitarian charities are being blocked from distributing food, clothes and tents in an attempt to stop people from coming to the UK.
We’ve gotta get out of this place
If it the last thing we ever do
We gotta get out of this place
‘Cause girl, there’s a better life for me and you
Calais is a hostile place for asylum seekers because of our Government’s policy and UK taxpayers’ money. It is a hostile place because the French authorities destroy tents, take possessions and disperse asylum seekers on a regular basis. Yet, this is nothing new for those who have travelled to Calais in the hope of sanctuary. To get this far they have experienced it all before!
What would drive you to make such a journey?
We’ve gotta get out of this place
If it the last thing we ever do
We gotta get out of this place
‘Cause girl, there’s a better life for me and you
It was reported last week that analysis using Home Office data requests under Freedom of Information laws has concluded that 61% of migrants who travel by boat are likely to be allowed to stay after claiming asylum. This is because they are coming from countries where war, persecution and human rights violations make it a dangerous place for some people to live.
And all we do is welcome people with persecution and human rights violation in the hope that the ‘problem’, as we see them, will go away.
I’m fairly sure that The Animals never thought this was a song about seeking asylum. As I said context is everything when listening to music, and as it played at the start of my journey home, the chorus took me right back to yesterday’s news – and to Lampedusa in October 2019.
The morning we arrived on the island, we heard that a boat carrying refugees had sunk a few miles off the coast. I attended the memorial service held for those who died. 14 numbered coffins, no names, all women – at least one who was pregnant (and these where just the bodies they had recovered). I understood none of the priest’s Italian words but I knew the grief and the guilt of the survivors’ tears and cries.
I cried out to God both in that service and yesterday – ‘You who commanded the waves to be still, why not for these your children?’
In the cold light of today, I know that this is nothing to do with God and everything to do with policy and politics. The policy of violence and oppression that forces so many to flee from their homes and the closed border policy of governments who are intent on driving down immigration statistics, rather than seeing the human being and human need.
We’ve gotta get out of this place
If it the last thing we ever do
We gotta get out of this place
‘Cause girl, there’s a better place for you and me
This isn’t explicitly a song about seeking asylum, it’s a song about the hope that life can be better. As such it is a song for those of us who vote; those of us who have access to our MP. The message is clear – God is urging us to get out of this place – this place of persecuting those who have become vulnerable, and with the urgency of it being the last thing we do. There is a better place for you and me, a place where those seeking asylum are handed a humanitarian visa and walk onto a big, safe ferry to be welcomed by communities across the UK…
Well, if you’d have suggested to me a couple of years ago that not only would I be increasingly fond of Harry Styles and his music but that I would be choosing one of his songs for a Friday Fix – I might have laughed at you, or at least rolled my eyes (I am well known for that!).
The irony that I have chosen a song from Harry about kindness is not lost on me. I was probably not the kindest in my attitude towards One Direction, with my prejudice towards manufactured bands from the stables of X-Factor and the like. But hey, it’s time to be kinder. Maybe I have found my place to feel good and treat Harry Styles with kindness.
Maybe we can Find a place to feel good And we can treat people with kindness Find a place to feel good
I think I love the whole package of this song. Music that, try as you might, you can’t resist a toe-tap to; lyrics that are fun and make you feel good with just a tiny dusting of a moral message and a video starring the fabulous Phoebe Waller-Bridge. Perfect for this time of year.
Kindness seems to be one of those attributes that some scoff at. Or associate with being a bit soft, or maybe even gullible. ‘You’re too kind to them’ or ‘why are you being kind to them when they’ve done that to you?’
Maya Angelou famously said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
I got a good feeling I’m just takin’ it all in Floating up and dreamin’ Droppin’ into the deep end
Kindness is amazing. I’m RAKtivist with the Random Acts of Kindness Foundation – and they point out that seeing kindness in action can release oxytocin, the love hormone; it can energise you; the altruistic action of kindness can bring happiness; it helps you to have a healthier, longer life; it pings your reward centre in your brain and gives you a ‘helpers high’; and it stimulates the anti-depressant hormone, serotonin.
The fifth fruit of the Spirit is kindness and we read in Ephesians 4:31-32, ‘Stop being mean, bad-tempered, and angry. Quarrelling, harsh words and dislike of others should have no place in your lives. Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God has forgiven you because you belong to Christ.’ (TLB version)
It should come as no surprise that a YouGov survey in 2019 found that ‘one in three Britons think ‘kindness’ is the most important trait for being a ‘good’ Christian.’ The big question, I guess, is how much do we Christians match up to the expectations of 33.3% of Britons? Do we really impart kindness? Are we selective in where we share kindness? Is it a part of our spiritual life that we could do much better at? Do we really practice it?
Well, I know that I could do better. And I know that practice makes us better (if not perfect!) at things. I might keep getting it wrong but I can keep on trying – just like Harry sings:
Giving second chances I don’t need all the answers Feeling good in my skin I just keep on dancin’
If you want to find out more about Harry Styles – here’s his website: https://hstyles.co.uk/
I’ve said it before and I’ll probably say it again, but country music is almost synonymous with home for me. And the music of Collin Raye conjures up memories of family sing-alongs and the soundtrack of road trips and holidays. So deep is my love for Collin that my mum, my best friend and I once took a very long ferry ride to Belfast and back, simply to see him in concert.
My Collin-love was already well-established when he released his 2009 album, Never Going Back (which contains a few other tracks I could easily blog about), featuring this absolutely stunning, musical tribute to his granddaughter Haley, who spent her short life battling a severe neurological disorder and who sadly died – aged 9 – in 2010.
When I first heard She’s with me it quite simply floored me (to be honest, it still does). Not only is the tune, played beautifully on an acoustic guitar, a perfect showcase for a voice that I love to listen to, but the lyrics are so deeply personal and every single word is heavy with the weight of the (almost defiant) love this man has for his granddaughter. As Collin sings this perfect, simple song, explaining the joys and the trials of loving a child with additional needs, I would challenge anyone not to feel moved. I still well-up when I hear it.
I have the immense privilege of being ‘Auntie Lynne’ to (among many other children) a friend’s son who is autistic and non-verbal. I love this little boy and his family deeply and they have granted me the huge honour of being a part of their ‘chosen’ family, placing me within their circle of trust. Like the words of the song, I wear this role as a ‘badge of honour’ and count myself blessed to do so. The lyrics that really resonate for me, as Auntie Lynne, are these:
She lets me know she feels my love when she’s with me
I know just what heaven looks like when I see that perfect face […]
How could I be the one you chose to care for our girl
Never done a single deed to earn the right to share her light
If all humanity is made in the image of God, then that includes those with special educational needs, those who are neuro-divergent, and those who communicate using non-verbal means. What glimpse of God do these fearfully and wonderfully-made members of the Body of Christ grant to us? For one thing, I know what pure, unfiltered joy in creation looks like, because I see it when I watch my friend’s son paddle bare-footed in the cold sea, or when he giggles uncontrollably as he enjoys the physical experiences of swimming or bouncing on his trampoline. It is, quite simply, worship in its purest form. I also see this boy bring out the best in the people around him – including me. Watching his mum and his sisters as they love and care for him teaches me a lot about Godly, sacrificial love.
Whilst Raye uses his song to describe the joy of loving a child with additional needs, and the pride he takes in his role as Haley’s advocate in the world, he doesn’t shy away from or dismiss the pain that comes with having to watch his granddaughter suffer and struggle. Instead, as a committed Christian, he trusts in God and looks forward to the hope of an eternal life, where roles will be reversed and his beloved Haley will be his advocate in Heaven. Regardless of your theology of heaven, hell, and the resurrection of the dead, there’s something beautiful about this man’s certainty of God’s love for his granddaughter and his faith that – whatever heaven looks like – Haley is sure of a place there.
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
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
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.
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.
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
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
The Friday Fix 