The Friday Fix

  • ‘Brave Face’ by Frank Turner

    Gill writes:

    It’s this time of year when I wait with bated breath for the line-up at the Greenbelt Festival to be announced. This year it seems that we’re waiting with bated breath for a different reason – will Greenbelt 2020 succumb to the Covid-19 restrictions like so many other key events and festivals? Most probably.

    Last year’s announcement (like every year) brought with it an expansion to my downloads, playlists and CD collection (yes, I still buy them if I love the artist so much) – 2019 was the year that Frank Turner & The Sleeping Souls were the headline act. I’d heard of them but had never heard them so off I went to download the latest album ‘Be More Kind’ – and I was smitten.

    ‘Brave Face’ was one the tracks that I slowly warmed too. It’s suited to a noisy, crowded gig where the audience can sing at the tops of their voices rather than Saturday morning background music while you read the papers. The words made sense but in a distant way – rather like watching a disaster film does. You know that there could be a possibility that you might be facing the crisis that the characters are facing but surely it wouldn’t happen in your lifetime.

    I’d never have thought that the words would take on a deeper meaning within such a short space of time. The song has become the soundtrack to my brave, new world of staying at home and only going out when necessary. It’s helped me face the day with a sense of determination – to get up and get ready like it’s just another day

    Put on your brave face,

    I need your brave face Honey

    and get ready for the end of the world.

    Put on your best clothes, take a deep breath

    Don’t bury your head and draw yourself up tall

    It’s so easy to live as though we’re in ‘stasis’ – that we’re in some waiting room – waiting for real life to return. But if we’re living life like we’re in some huge waiting room – are we really living? Self-isolation and social distancing is our life at this moment in time – by waiting for ‘normal service’ to return means that we’re missing out on what life is showing us at the moment.

    At long last, we’ve got time. Time to chat, read, write, bake, build models, clean bikes, spring clean, potter around the garden, savour the one piece of daily exercise, to get on with that job you’ve been putting off and best of all, we’ve got time to ‘be’. What a joy to not have to utter the phrase ‘I’ve been so busy, I didn’t have time to…’

    Most of all, it’s giving us time to weigh up what really matters and think about how we might live our lives differently when we get to the other side. I will relish these days because when life returns to a normality. I won’t have this luxury of time but I will try to ensure that I create space to be present and appreciate moments as they happen, rather than looking ahead to the next moment.

    So sometime today, I’m going to ask Google to play ‘Brave Face’ and I’m going to sing it at the top of my voice as if I am back at Greenbelt 2019 in the sweltering evening heat of the Glade stage watching Frank Turner & The Sleeping Souls.

    The world is a mess now,

    baby it’s best now

    If we start again with new visions in mind

    So put on your brave face,

    I need your brave face Honey

    and we’ll make it to the other side

    You can find out more about Frank Turner by visiting https://frank-turner.com/

  • ‘Riverman’ – Nick Drake

    Jane writes:

    I have long since loved this song.  It’s one of those tracks that both haunts and calms you, and whilst out on my solo village walk the other night it came up quite randomly on my playlist.  I have to admit I did feel more settled straight away.  The familiarity, the lilt of the sound, the softening voice, the expansive back track, the sound of the rippling water all add to the other worldliness of it.

    The characters within the lyrics don’t ever really seem to know what’s going on, what they want or whether they really want it.  It seems that praying is of value but the writer isn’t sure why or how.

    The one constant is in the Riverman who you can tell all your troubles to, your plans, your ideas and your concerns.

    It’s always intrigued me how songs you love best don’t seem to make total sense. Glimpses of lyrics seem to resonate and connect at a given time and they’re not always the same ones.  They seem to rest on your emotions and what is happening around you. This week then for me it’s these

    Going to see the river man
    Going to tell him all I can
    About the ban
    On feeling free.

    If he tells me all he knows
    About the way his river flows
    I don’t suppose
    It’s meant for me

    In these uncertain times, the thought of having something/someone constant that you can share everything with is comforting. For many of us as Christians that constant is God.

    I’m certainly feeling like there’s a ban on “feeling free” right now but I am also bound to notice what it is I’m being told, taught, encouraged to pay attention to because it may be meant for more than just me.

    If nothing else this song brings a window to another place beyond confinement where the river flows.

    Sadly Nick Drake died a long time ago but you can find out about his music and legacy here

    http://www.brytermusic.com/about/

  • ‘Big Yellow Taxi’ – Joni Mitchell

    Gill writes:

    ‘Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.’ 

    Over the last few days, these words from ‘Big Yellow Taxi’ have been bouncing around my head. I’ve always appreciated this song for it’s statement on the environment but as the past week has unfolded for us in the UK, these lyrics have taken on a wider meaning.

    A wander around our supermarkets is all you need to appreciate what we take for granted. No visits to the theatre for the next few weeks; no parties and weddings to go to; no meals out with family and friends; no Pilates class; no school runs because school’s not running. Everyday aspects of our daily lives have just disappeared overnight.

    ‘You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone’

    One of my favourite sort of TV shows are the ones when we send a family back in time.  I particularly enjoyed the ‘Turn Back Time’ series a few years ago which was set in Morecambe – where they took a street and put four families from 21st Century Britain to live in the same conditions as their great-grandparents, grandparents and parents.  It took you from the Victorian age right through to the 1980’s.

    What becomes apparent from these sorts of programmes is the amount that we rely on electricity.  No fridges, freezers, vacuum cleaners, washing machines, televisions, computers. The sheer delight of the families when these commodities are gradually introduced is a joy to watch.

    The thing that often strikes me is the struggle that the people have with light – from tallow candles that burn too fast to conserving oil for lamplights; from a fizzing lightbulb to wartime blackout. How light is so valuable when the darkness falls.

    Pondering the ‘light’ thing – we are told quite clearly in the Gospels, 3 times I think it is, that Jesus said that he is the Light of the world – and in Matthew 5:15-16 we’re told that we are the light of the world too. (‘Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.’)

    We need to be the light in our communities right now – showing the way.  This moment in time that we are living through requires us to step up and be a light to those around us. We can’t be church in the way that we’re used to but we can be church in radically different ways over the coming weeks.

    We’ve taken our ways of living and worshipping for granted. We don’t really like to be or feel uncomfortable these days. We can’t be bothered with a bit of thinking and a bit of effort – it’s easier to do what we’re used to doing and in ways that we’re used to doing them.

    Earlier this week, Archbishops Welby and Sentamu wrote a letter to the Church of England and asked the question ‘This is a defining moment for the Church of England. Are we truly a church for all, or just the church for ourselves?’ It’s a defining moment for all churches.

    They went on to say “We urge you sisters and brothers to become a different sort of church in these coming months: hopeful and rooted in the offering of prayer and praise and overflowing in service to the world.”

    Light is valuable when darkness falls.

    You can see what Joni Mitchell is up to these days by visiting https://jonimitchell.com/

  • Coping with Covid-19

    We’re living in unprecedented times and the next few weeks will be challenging for those of us who are used to regularly meeting to worship, hear the Word and pray together.

    The next few weeks call us to be church in different ways. Our weekly Friday Fix will try to give food for thought about the times that we are in and if you have something to contribute, please send it to Gill on thomasg@methodistchurch.org.uk.

    Our Social Media posts will be supporting, encouraging and sharing ideas on ways that we can connect and worship. Let’s not be socially distant even if we are physically distant.

    If you don’t follow us on social media, you can find us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/LN.EastCentral and on Twitter @LNEastCentral.

    Finally, our lovely colleague Rev Nel Shallow, Grantham & Vale of Belvoir Circuit has put together some ideas, resources and suggestions on how to worship and how to be church at a time of ‘distant socialising’. You can download the PDF on the box below.

    Ways to connect and worshipDownload

  • ‘Forever Young’ by Bob Dylan

    Clive writes:

    ‘May your wishes all come true’ might make this seem at first glance like a trite song. But it’s a blessing from the start: ‘May God bless and keep you always’. Then there are lots of other telling sentiments: ‘May you grow up to be righteous, / May you grow up to be true, / May you always know the truth…May you always be courageous…May you have a strong foundation / When the winds of changes shift / May your heart always be joyful…’

    Dylan wrote it for one of his sons. We can now receive the song not as a straightforward longing for eternal youthfulness in the sense of an interminable life of the kind that we might know in our youths (for what if we wouldn’t want our youths to be repeated?).

    It works as an appeal to grasp after and hold on to deep and powerful convictions about the fulfilled life. The kind of ongoing youthfulness that it is worth aspiring to is about righteous, joyful, truthful, courageous living. Seek those things and we shall feel young, invigorated, spirit-filled, whatever our age. Never give up on justice. Never step back from truth-seeking. 

    I’ve seen Dylan a few times live. He’s as exasperating a performer as everyone says: playing songs you know well in versions which you don’t even recognise at first; not having much rapport with his audience (or at least not talking to them much); mumbling his lines without sometimes being in tune. But then you remind yourself: he can do what he likes – these are his words. He wrote all this stuff (words and music). If he wants to go up rather than down when singing ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’, then he can! He can be as playful as he likes with his words and his melodies. And he inevitably attracts quality touring musicians to create tight, lively bands around him.

    Dylan therefore creates an ‘occasion’, a memory, which is worth recalling, alongside the multiple listenings – on CD, or streamed – of songs he’s produced. You can even get away with singing along with him out of tune because he often does too (…though preferably do that at home rather than in public). Participation matters. (‘Forever youuuuuuuuuung…..for-ever youuuuung….May yooooooou stayyyyyyy………’) It’s how music works best. It’s also how blessings and other prayers become part of who we are. 

  • ‘Count On Me’ by The Lone Bellow

    Jane writes:

    I seem to have a habit of hearing a band and then getting totally immersed in what they offer.

    I hear one song and then seek out a back catalogue, a gig and keep on looking for whatever is coming out as new.

    This is just the case with The Lone Bellow. One song and I was hooked.  A visit to Leeds at the Brudnell Social Club cemented my affection for all their close harmonies, life focussing lyrics and their intimate approach to BIG songs.

    So a new album and new music brings me real joy.  In particular the track -Count on Me.

    It speaks of deep friendship.  Of that willingness that comes from an honesty that can sooth and challenge without discrimination.  We all need to be loved and indeed, our really good friends would do that unconditionally, regardless of all those petty and weird things that make us us. 

    But they must also be there to pick up the pieces when its gone horribly wrong and they can carefully mop us up even if we are a bit broken.  Sometimes friends for me are the honesty that says you know you are going to have to deal with this.  It’s painful.  It might break you but we are here and we love you all the same.  I’m a crier. A shouter. A person who wants harmony.  Sometimes though walking away or facing the agony is about self-preservation and doing that alone is a daunting prospect. You need a friend of the truest kind to be alongside with their arm around your neck.

    As people of faith many of us might feel the same way about God.  Its not always that simple.  Whoever you have in your corner though being able to count on them is what counts.  

    “Let it break you
    Let it help you lay down what you held onto
    Let it break you
    You can count on me, I can count on you
    To help you lay down what you held onto
    Help you lay down what you held onto”

    You can find out much more about The Lone Bellow here  https://www.thelonebellow.com/home

  • ‘Wires’ by Athlete

    Gill writes:

    Sometimes a song collides with a significant moment in your life. It expresses your thoughts and feelings better than you could. ‘Wires’ is one of those songs for me.

    The song was released in January 2005 when my son was 3 months old. Although he was born without any intervention (it was down to one last push or the ventouse was at the ready), he was in quite some distress and this resulted in him spending a few hours in the Special Baby Care Unit.

    Although he wasn’t rushed through the hospital ‘running down corridors, through automatic doors‘ and subjected to ‘wires’ as Athlete’s lead singer Joel Pott’s daughter was, the words really evoked the experience at the time – and still continue to do so. I remember the panic on my husband’s face when he came back to find us on the maternity ward and we weren’t there; I remember sitting helplessly next to the tiny, little bundle ‘in a plastic box‘; I remember seeing the determination and lifeforce in his eyes and feeling sure that it was going to be alright.

    From the moment of conception, I’ve always had a strong awareness that I have no control over this life that had been created. Right from the beginning I’ve been learning to let go. It can be so easy to take life for granted; to think that life is a right when it’s actually a gift.

    ‘Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes’ (James. 4:14)

    Our lives are precious and fragile but for some reason we humans have a tendency to be rather arrogant and nonchalant about something so fragile as life. Funny really because when we own something that we think is delicate and breakable, we have a tendency to take extra special care of it. Why don’t we do this with our own lives?

    Revisiting ‘Wires’ again has reminded me that I could make more time for others; that I could show more love to others; that I need to live more today and not worry too much about tomorrow. Life is indeed fragile. Handle it with the same care that God has for creation.

    (And just in case you’re wondering, that tiny bundle is a strapping, rugby-playing, full-of-testosterone teenager – ‘looking at you now, you would never know’!)

    Athlete still have a website which you can check out at http://www.athlete.mu/home.

  • ‘Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters’ – Elton John

    Clive writes:

    This is one of Elton John’s finest songs. It is underperformed – though Elton John has played it live sometimes, and there are a few versions on YouTube – and is hidden away on the 1972 album Honky Chateau, as part of that rich seem of ‘Americana’ material that he and his lyricist Bernie Taupin produced in the early 1970s (listen also to Tumbleweed Connection and Madman Across the Water, before you head to Don’t Shoot Me I’m Only the Piano Player, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and Caribou).

    It’s still something of a mystery how a lyricist from rural Lincolnshire could come up, in his late teens and early twenties, with evocative, poetic lyrics which an emerging rock star from Pinner could make use of. But that’s what happened. Taupin must have been about 21 when he wrote ‘Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters’ just as he and Elton John were about to become big in the USA and having their first experiences staying in large American cities.

    As a song it invites meditative reflection on the fact that it takes all sorts to make up a world and that a city brings alongside each other people with great differences, and that rich and poor live cheek by jowl in a modern city, with all the challenges and tensions that such economic distinctions produce.  

    For a townie from Merseyside this song was evocative. A trip to New York was surely never ever going to be on the cards (I wondered from my teenage bedroom what it was like). I find it staggering that I have been three times since and made trips, because of academic conference work, to a dozen or so other North American cities. I’m checking my carbon footprint much more these days but cannot pretend that I didn’t (and don’t) find such city-visits exciting and challenging. I always ensure I don’t just visit the ‘tourist bits’.  

    I’ve no idea what Taupin and John themselves make of their own lyric ‘I thank the Lord for the people I have found’. But the depth of gratitude seems real enough: wherever you are, and whatever the circumstances you find yourselves in, be grateful for whoever helps you get through. I really do think this proves to be a deep, and profoundly significant, evangelistic insight. God is wherever gratitude is being expressed. And wherever gratitude is being expressed, then important things are happening. (For the record, this kind of stuff crops up when people start telling their own stories ruthlessly honestly…).

    Three years later, in the title-track of their autobiographical album Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, Taupin and John would conclude: ‘And all this talk of Jesus coming back to see us / Mmm mmm couldn’t fool us / For we were spinning out our lines walking on the wire /Hand in hand went music and the rhyme’. Perhaps they’d dispensed with all explicit religion by then. Or perhaps it was just reservation about particular aspects of eschatology. Who knows? And they have both now got a further 45 years of life-experience to work with. 

    At any rate, the lyric, and the wonderful song they created together, leaps out of their own experience and helps others. 

    Elton John website can be found here – https://www.eltonjohn.com/ and you can find out more about the Lincolnshire ‘lad’, Bernie Taupin here http://www.berniejtaupin.com/

  • ‘He Loves Me’ by Brittany Howard

    Jane writes:

    I wonder, when we think of faith, if we are guilty of thinking we in the church might have the monopoly on God’s grace.  It is true that God loves everyone but maybe he saves a little bit extra for us?  We even sing about that sometimes – and we are at risk of doing so a little too carelessly in my view.  “……still the greatest treasure remains for those who choose you now” 

    Startlingly lovely then is this song of self-assuredness.  The singer/writer proclaims with ease  

    I don’t go to church anymore  

    I know He still loves me 

    I know He still loves me when I’m smoking blunts 

    Loves me when I’m drinking too much  

    He loves me then (yeah!)  

    He loves me when I do what I want  

    He loves me     

    He doesn’t judge me  

    Yes, He loves me 

    When I heard the words I asked myself “Is this really what a life in God is all about?”  A place where I can be so sure of his grace, so sure of her unfailing commitment to me that I might sing such carefree and honest words. 

    I also asked myself where do the rules we set ourselves as a Church fit in to this picture, this story of God’s unswerving love for us? What are we requiring as a people of God that might mean it’s easier to celebrate outside our walls than come in and see the God we share. 

    I’m sure my old Sunday School teachers might have been shocked at the thought that God might love me even if I knowingly misbehaved.  I don’t know what it says about repentance.  I don’t know what it says about how to live a God-filled life.  I don’t know what it says about the requirement to change a bit of who I am so that others can see God in me.  However I do know that it says “He loves me” 

    You can find out more about Brittany here    https://brittanyhoward.com/