Gill writes:

This week’s Friday Fix gives more than a passing nod to last week’s FF because it was in listening to a revisit of Mike Peters’ choice of songs on Sounds of the 80s with Gary Davies last week that inspired a reflection on this anthemic song from Big Country.

I remember being so excited when Big Country appeared on the scene in the 1980’s – out of the same stable as my beloved U2, Simple Minds and The Alarm. Listening to this always leaves me with a strange mix of uplift and ache — like looking at a beautiful landscape and suddenly realising how small I am in the world. It makes me think about how vulnerable it actually is to keep believing in things — especially when life doesn’t always meet you halfway.

It doesn’t surprise me that a number of people told lead singer, Stuart Adamson, that this song is what saved their lives – Mike Peters included. A sad irony given the early departure from life that Adamson himself made.

I’m not expecting to grow flowers in the desert
But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime

In a big country, dreams stay with you
Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside
Stay alive

These are some of my all-time favourite lyrics in a song. To me, they speak of what it means to keep going when life isn’t flourishing the way you hoped. There’s no illusion of success or transformation — no flowers in the desert — just the quiet grace of noticing that even in the hardest seasons, there’s still sun, still breath, still something to be seen and felt.

I see spirituality here – it may be subtle but it’s definitely here. It even lives in the landscapes that the song evokes in my mind — vast, open, and wild. The song suggests that to live life in all its fullness includes risking heartbreak and sadness, being vulnerable and exposed, yet still to believe in something larger than ourselves — whether that’s love, hope, or the sheer scale and mystery of the world we move through. Some of us would call this God.

Sometimes, we need permission to stop trying so hard to fix things, and just to be — to look, to breathe, to see the sun. That feels like faith to me: not in answers or outcomes, but in the quiet, persistent value of being alive, even in wintertime.

Big Country are still creating music and you can find out more at https://bigcountry.co.uk/

Recent days have seen the announcement of Mike Peter’s death. Mike, the lead singer of The Alarm, has shown great spirit and perseverance in the face of a longstanding and complex illness. It seemed fitting then to re-visit a Friday Fix entry from early 2023 where Jane reflected on new music from a great band with him at the helm. RIP Mike, and thanks for the music.

Jane wrote in 2023:

The Alarm were a band of my youth. A band that the people I hung round with loved and played a lot! A band that seemed to have something to say and often with a faith bias.

Their album Strength was a must play and the memories that went alongside – beloved t shirts, unexpected turns at Greenbelt Festival, sweaty gigs in that sweatbox known as The Hummingbird in Brum – are all indelibly inked on my soul. This was 1985 or thereabouts, and as you can tell, it’s a while ago now.

Imagine my joy then when I heard a familiar kind of sound on my release radar playlist. Could it really be them. Well yes it was! A new single from a new album due for release this summer, Forwards was the cry and already the rallying style of this band was evident once again. Whoooaaa Whoooaa!

I’m certain that they have been making music over the years but my own encounters with them have been through retrospective tours and Mike Peters, their lead singer, reliving those glory days.

This though, felt a fresh reminder of where music could take you. Mike has been unwell with leukemia for many years and last autumn was no different to that. Even now though he looks forward to helping others through creating a new wellness space alongside creating new music.

Living for today. Trying to find a way forwards
On and on and on

Illness, grief or patches of immense despondency can lead us to get lost. People often express a sense of stasis when nothing seems to move and treading the water seems an effort. Life running is slow motion. This can often be true of society too.

My life is out there somewhere

I’ve been crawling through the wreckage trying to get myself back home to you…I’ve been searching for the way

I have no way of knowing of course whether this is a rediscovery of self, the truth of faith or a desire for a better world. It is though clearly about working out what comes next.

As people of faith we believe that God is part of that equation. Jesus declares “I am the way”. If we can do one thing today we may want to give a little thought to what the future holds for us.

“The way forwards”

and give a heartfelt nod of thanks to those who stir us up like The Alarm. Play it loud and search for the way at the top of your lungs.

More can be found about The Alarm at https://thealarm.com/

Corin writes:

Kelly Joe Phelps, to the uninitiated, possessed a unique talent as a guitarist, songwriter and interpreter of songs from the canon of country blues. Those of us lucky to see him live would encounter a low key, humble figure, who would spark alive through some incredible slide playing. I’ve rarely seen one man hold the attention of a room like he did. For those experiencing darker
times, his music speaks to the soul. No longer with us, he leaves a rich musical legacy.

Which brings us to ‘Roll Away the Stone’.

‘Early one morning here as I look at across a worn out plain
Dust bowl memories you can hear me shout
I want to roll away the stone’

This week, we celebrate Jesus’s resurrection. Death is conquered. The nature of reality has changed.

I have appreciated the counsel of a wise spiritual director for a number of years. At a period where it felt like many elements of life were disintegrating, she told me this:

‘The thing is, when Jesus was in the tomb he didn’t make the resurrection happen. The resurrection happened to him.’

There’s a moment of recognition where only surrender to God can transform the situation. These are the times when you’re out of options and the fixes ain’t working.

‘You must learn to forgive reality.’ Says Richard Rohr.

‘See that gate down yonder road, which one will I follow? I lose my shackles here. I want to roll away the stone.’

We want to roll away the stone, but every attempt has failed. We might call this the moment of grace.

Many years after this record, Phelps found sobriety, and released what would be his final album; ‘Brother Sinner and the Whale’. He shares what inspired the record:

‘It wasn’t just a general, hmmm, maybe I should pay more attention to God. It was more like, man, I had to do something or my head was going to blow up or my heart would stop.  I couldn’t live this way, think this way or feel this way any longer.’

‘Roll Away the Stone’ precedes this moment of recognition. In time, he realises he can’t roll it. Only God can do that.

The stone gets rolled when we’ve been through the death moment, the surrender. We wait for the resurrection to happen in this letting go. And this is what he discovered for real.

Tom writes:

Human beings are social beings. We need one another. We need support from others – to laugh with us in moments of joy and to weep with us in moments of sorrow, to challenge us when we become blasé and to protect us when we are in danger. To be human requires having neighbours.

When Jesus is asked who our neighbours are, he offers instead a parable that explores what it is to be neighbourly ourselves. And so, as I’m asked to reflect on Soul Support and the way we look for nourishment from others when times are tough, I find myself offering a song that reflects not on others offering us support, but rather the desire, the need, the calling to be that support, that protection, for others.

As Jesus dies on the cross, he continues to build community. He looks at his mother and his closest friend and places them in one another’s care. This relationship means that not only have they someone to lean on, but they also have the responsibility to let the other lean on them – to protect one another from the fiercest storms of life.

Human beings need one another, and as followers of Jesus we know that we are called to not only love God but to love our neighbours as ourselves. That works both ways – as we need support, so we are called to be that support for others, that we might be nourished together in body, mind and soul.

Follow Massive Attack on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/massiveattackofficial/

Mandy writes:

There are not many songs which can speak to your heart, nourish your soul and call you to action all at the same time. For me, ‘Hear My Voice’ does all three.

This song, co-written by Celeste and Daniel Pemberton, was nominated for an Oscar after it was featured in a Netflix film called ‘The Trial of the Chicago Seven’ – the story of a group of American protesters arrested and taken to court for demonstrating against the Vietnam War.

So far, so worthy. But it’s more than that. Quite honestly, this song sends shivers down my spine. Celeste’s elegant, powerful, voice. A measured yet insistent message. It could be heard as a prayer for a better and truer existence:

“Hear my voice, hear my dreams

Let us make a world, in which I believe

Hear my words, hear my cries

Let me see a change through these eyes”

There are too many situations in the world where the voices of ordinary people have been silenced. I am sure you can think of some current examples.

Conversely, there are also many places where change has happened because people have raised their voices and called out injustice, even at great personal cost.

This song nourishes my soul with its beauty, but it also challenges me to consider how I raise my voice, and for what purpose.

To criticise and tear down, or to encourage and lift up?

To speak words of hatred and prejudice, or to call out for a world which we can all believe in?

Find out more about Celeste at https://www.celesteofficial.com/

Jane writes:

How much do I love this woman’s music. A lot frankly!

Its always been the case and I can barely remember when her music was not in my life. She’s an artist of longevity and her new stuff is just as rich as the music I’ve chosen today which digs deep into who I am and how I should be.

I’ve seen her a few times and she doesn’t disappoint. Her soul filled voice mixed with care-ful lyrical content make every song worth listening to over and over and on this occasion the fabulous bass playing at the start takes us where we need to be quickly. In fact this song sits in my “comfort blanket” playlist for emergencies

What do you want of a soulmate I wonder? What does the word mean to you and how do you expect a companion to behave?

I suspect the list of traits exposed in this song would go a long way to providing a job description for such a person.

Here are a few:

• And if you want to be alone, or someone to share a laugh, whatever you want me to do, all you got to do is ask
• In the rain and snow, I’ll be your fireside
• Come running to me, when things get out of hand; running to me when it’s more than you can stand
• Willing to be a shelter in a storm
• You know I’ll listen
• And if it’s money you want or trouble halved, whatever you want me to do all you’ve got to do is ask

The things on this list seem just what anyone would need in a dear friend, a life partner or from within a church community.

I suppose the bigger question is could you be such a companion. Live up to such a commitment. Make it part of your way of life?

As a person of faith, I believe that I am called to love God and love my neighbour as myself. To be the best I can be in the face of need. To be a companion on life’s road. Sometimes I manage it and sometimes I’m wishing I could channel the integrity of the singer in this song a whole lot better.

Let’s all try to be a soul mate in some way today. You and I may be the difference someone needs.

Find out more about Joan Armatrading at https://www.joanarmatrading.com/

Marc writes:

Our history and our scars make us who we are in this moment… if a part of us has ever felt broken, we can fix it, we can mend, transforming ourselves into something more precious than we were before… The cracks are where the light gets in. 

The obvious illustration is “Kintsugi” (see the artwork of Ben Barnes’ latest album ‘Where The Light Gets in”):  The art of repairing with gold, of highlighting cracks and being more beautiful through “brokenness”.

Or throw-away culture, and the rebellious act of going to the repair shop instead of throwing something fixable away and buying a replacement;

Or the filters we use in selfies, the tweaks we make when we look in the mirror (physical or metaphorical), and how we hide the blemishes we perceive.

Or how we talk to each other and that sometimes we’re not “fine, thanks”…

But I’ve only got 250 words…

So, an observation:

As Methodists we regularly participate in the beautiful brokenness of Jesus through his body and blood.  By his wounds we are healed.  We would be lost without this beautiful brokenness that lets the light in.  By his scars, unconditional love and forgiveness pour into the world.

And questions:

• What needs repairing?  Whose help do we need?
  • What doesn’t need fixing but instead needs embracing and loving?
  • Where is the beauty in brokenness?

Ben Barnes and Jesus both “told me that I’m not the only one who feels the scars on my skin. Somebody showed me how to feel whole and how to heal where I’ve been. The cracks are where the light gets in.”

You can find out more about the music that Ben Barnes makes at https://benbarnes.komi.io/

Sally writes:

This song is nearly 60 years old now; coming out in 1968 but it still a classic track which talks of the joy of taking time out. It starts by talking about the way that neighbours of differing generations don’t get on but then moves on to say how you can remove yourself from the conflict, and noise of everyday conflicts like this, by taking a lazy Sunday afternoon where you just let yourself be and enjoy life.

The answer to life’s problems in this song is to enjoy a lazy Sunday afternoon where you’ve “got no mind to worry” and you close your eyes and drift away. As the lyrics go on to say, “There’s no one to hear me, there’s nothing to say, and no one can stop me from feeling this way.” The message being that if you take time to slow down and nourish yourself by just being, nobody can complain about what you’re thinking as it’s just you and your thoughts which are none of anybody’s business.

We all need some time to just be and be nourished by taking time out to slow down and tune out of the busyness. Whilst not all of us have lives where we can take a Sunday afternoon, we can all embrace this idea of taking time to just be, without demands, and to relax.

For some it will be just for a short while whilst they take a break between jobs for others. It might be in the morning when they might choose to meditate, pray or just take time with a tea or coffee as they start the day. The principles are the same to just relax and take some time for yourself, slowing down to just be and be renewed by that relaxation.

In her book ‘What the Most Successful People Do Before Breakfast: How to Achieve More at Work and at Home’, Laura Vanderkam takes an ancient idea of Sabbath from the Jewish and Christian faiths and updates it for the 21st Century by talking about how we might want to spend some time, possibly a day each weekend, taking time from our phones and other devices. She says this enables us to slow down and nourish ourselves. So this time away from devices I’d argue is another way we can slow down and nourish ourselves by taking a lazy Sunday afternoon. The idea is to do what is right for you to remove some noise, chill and recharge be it on a Sunday afternoon or at another point in the week.

Check out The Small Faces website – https://www.thesmallfaces.com/

Gill writes:

I feel like Paul Heaton has been forever in my life – definitely since my late teens – with his poetic, thought-provoking music and lyrics. This song by The Housemartins could be a prime example of his gift but it was originally written by Homer Banks, Carl Hampton and Raymond Jackson and was first released by Luther Ingram in 1972. No matter – this is the version that I love. I’ll Be Your Shelter when sung by Paul Heaton (to me) offers a deep, soulful reflection on the meaning of shelter.

Shelter extends beyond mere physical protection to encompass emotional, spiritual, and communal care. Our call to offer shelter aligns seamlessly with the song’s message of unwavering support and presence.

In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus asks ‘How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.’ What a perfect image of shelter that is. It reminds me that offering shelter is a radical act of love, reflecting Christ’s call for us to care for our neighbours – known and unknown. This song about being a shelter mirrors this commitment, reminding us that faith is not passive but an active, demanding engagement with those in need.

And when the tempest is raging

I want you to know got a friend that’s true

Just like a shelter, in a time of storm

I’ll see you through, that’s what I’ll do

Shelter can come in the form of a home for the homeless, a listening ear for the marginalized, or a safe space for the oppressed. It challenges us to remove barriers and nurture inclusivity, offering safety and sanctuary where and when it is most needed.  Being a shelter means embodying Christ’s love through acts of kindness, advocacy, and solidarity.

Ultimately, I’ll Be Your Shelter calls us to reflect on our role in creating a just world. It invites us to become havens of hope, sharing God’s boundless love and offering comfort to all who seek refuge. I wonder who you will be offering shelter to in the coming days?

The Housemartins might have disbanded a long time ago but Paul Heaton continues to make music – find out more at https://paulheaton.co.uk/