The Friday Fix

Tag: Hope

  • ‘Unconditional I (Lookout Kid)’ – Arcade Fire

    Tom writes:

    I recently became a granddad. Very recently in fact – the wee one is 17 days old as I write this. My emotions around this have been mixed, for a bunch of reasons I’m not going into here – and I’m not sure I could explain even if I was to try! But when I listen to Arcade Fire’s Lookout Kid the swirl is clarified into a certainty.

    Despite having listened to Arcade Fire for many years now, the first time I heard this song was just a few months ago. I was, as is often the case, driving along, listening to a playlist, when the track came on. Immediately my mind went to the then impending arrival of this tiny new person into my life and what that would mean. And for the first time I had absolute clarity about how I felt.

    There is, I think, a temptation to make both parenthood and grandparenthood about wrapping your wee relative in cotton wool. It is, I think, a perfectly reasonable and understandable temptation, and of course a parent’s or grandparent’s calling includes keeping their child safe – that’s why stories of situations where that hasn’t been the case hit us so hard, why the moments that bring me out in sweats when I look back over our daughter’s life so far are the ones where I feel I could have done more to keep her safe.

    At the same time, life is full of scraped knees and heartbreak. That is a truth that is unavoidable. At baptisms I always make clear that whatever else we’re doing, what we’re not doing is promising a life of ease and safety to the one being baptised – my favourite baptism reading is the opening of Isaiah 43, which doesn’t say there’ll be babbling streams and warming stoves, it simply promises that amidst the raging waves and roaring fires a love will hold us that will never, ever let us go.

    So, as my worries and wonderings swirled in my head, Lookout Kid broke through all that and affirmed to me that, whatever else, my love for this tiny bundle of humanity then soon to enter the world and now having done so is absolutely and categorically unconditional. It also enabled me to see that my calling, as Gramps or whatever they later choose to call me, was to let them know that I love them whatever, and to ensure that they knew that would remain the case whatever life and the world throws at them, and to encourage them to be the person they are born to be, not the one that the world might want them to be.

    Parents and grandparents can’t do everything for their children – there are things our kids and grandkids are called to do and be that are completely beyond our knowledge and understanding, and we need to let them find those things, despite the risk, the failure, the pain, and the sadness that such finding may likely involve. But, like the God we are all made in the image of, we can love unconditionally. We can encourage them to fly, while letting them know that when they trip and fall and scrape their knees we will always be there, to hold them, and tend them, and help them stand back up and try again.

    And, of course, this is what God offers all of us too. All of us. God’s love is unconditional, and God’s desire for us is not that we be what the world demands us to be but what God calls us to be – our true selves, the selves in which God’s image is most clearly seen, the selves in which we can love
    ourselves as much as we might love our neighbours and our Creator.

    Whatever other thoughts and feelings swirl around my mind, I know this is what I want for the wee one now in my life. It’s actually what I want for everyone. And I know that it is what God wants for all people – because God’s love is indeed unconditional, whatever scrapes we may get ourselves into as we seek the person God has called us to be.

    Find out more about Arcade Fire here – https://www.arcadefire.com/

  • ‘Walls of Jericho’ – Bon Jovi

    Sally writes:

    Bon Jovi have a new album out, Forever, which to be honest is one of the best they’ve made for many years. It’s got some bangers on which are right up there with Living on a Prayer, in my view. One of these is Walls of Jericho, which takes the theme of the bible story and weaves it into a wider song of hope.

    It acknowledges that things are not great, but urges us to remember where we’ve come from and what we’ve been through. It says that sometimes we have to take the long way round achieving change but we can do so, through coming together and raising our voices together.

    For me, this theme of holding on to hope is vital in our current society. We do want to move into a different future and we want some of those walls of injustice we see, both physically and metaphorically, around us to fall. To do this we need to come together and hold on to hope, not fall into the trap of despair, division and giving up if we can’t get our quick-fix answers immediately.

    I find it interesting that Jon Bon Jovi has turned to the bible for inspiration on this one and taken an explicitly religious story from the Jewish and Christian traditions and sought to use it to appeal to a wider, largely secular audience. In doing this he is, and from having heard him speak about this song recently at an event in Kingston, quite consciously seeking to use a religious theme but open it up to everybody and turn it into something for everybody.

    I think this raises a further question, do religions want to hold on to hope rather than release and share it in order to achieve meaningful change? Do we need, like Jon Bon Jovi, to release our stories into the wider society in a way which relinquishes religious ownership? This will mean teaching people our stories not to try and train them but to help them learn from them too. We need to set the stories free.

    It appeals to me, but I am aware religions as institutions, including Christianity, are built on holding on to their stories and trying to use them to get people to buy into the religion. What I love about this song is it is about sharing both the story and the message of hope and community liberation though encouraging people coming together and sing their way into change and the dismantling of walls.

    Find out more about Bon Jovi at https://www.bonjovi.com/

  • ‘Fix You’ by Coldplay

    Warning: this post contains strong emotions.

    Jill writes:

    In 2007-8, when we had a difficult time as a family I would sometimes find my husband sitting listening to this song, with tears running down his own face… just listening and crying.

    His cousin (aged 28) was killed in the 7/7 bombings. She was sitting in the carriage where the bomb went off and there was no chance of survival. There was nothing anybody could do.

    Her parents asked for none of us to talk about her and I’m not going to here except to say that she was an extraordinary person (you could read more in her memory https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-12011102) and that she is still missed.

    This piece of music, for me, is one which has helped, since then, to deal with any difficult situations. Until I decided to write this I didn’t even know what the lyrics were. ‘I will try to fix you’ was the only phrase I remembered. There was absolutely nothing that could be done. The fire had literally ignited her bones. And yet… we wanted to fix it. We really wanted to fix it. This song tuned in with that longing and that helplessness.

    We all want to fix it… for those we love, for the world. This Covid-19 pandemic has reminded us of our vulnerabilities as a human race. We do feel ‘stuck in reverse’. We also want to fix other people… and really we can’t.

    In films those who are called ‘fixers’ are those who are known to be people who claim to do this and always come undone. They are not the ones with real power but the ones who try to convince others that they are! For me it is turning out to be a life-time’s work to learn that only God can help people truly fix things in their own lives.

    ‘Fix You’ will always remind me of those traumatic experiences (of hearing The News, of realizing it was our family’s news, of the funeral, of trying to support others through bereavement) but since then, the song has become one which helps me with other sadnesses. Until I started to write this I didn’t know that the song was performed at the benefit concert ‘One Love Manchester’ – dedicated to the victims of the Manchester Arena bombing in 2017… but it does not surprise me. The music itself is healing as it brings the tears which register the realities of sadness and make the beginnings of real change possible. We can then begin to look for the ‘lights which will guide us home’

    At Helen’s funeral the vicar, who was a friend, mentioned that Helen had supported him after a difficult funeral he had to take for a child, “She said to me: ‘In tragedy, it is never God’s will. God’s is the first heart to break and God is the first to shed a tear.’”

    Find out more about Coldplay at https://www.coldplay.com/

  • ‘Chasing Rainbows’ by Shed Seven

    Gill writes:

    I guess that the address given at our wedding service might have taken some people by surprise. It started with the words “Everybody here is thinking of weddings, while I am thinking of funerals”. But then again, the person giving the address was my Dad and we’ve come to expect the unexpected from him over the years!

    The thing that had got him thinking about funerals was that we had chosen a rainbow theme for our invitations, order of service and so on. The rainbow in this context was that weddings are about endings and beginnings – that we were ending our lives as singletons (as Bridget Jones would say) and starting a new life together.

    I’ve always loved rainbows – my teenage bedroom wall had a huge one stretching across it – and just this morning as I sat down to jot these thoughts down, a full rainbow appeared in the sky over Grimsby. God-incidence?

    Rainbows have many meanings but it seems that most of the meanings tend to be reminders about love, hope and new life. Whether it be the rainbow flag of Pride, or the rainbow bridge of Norse Mythology linking earth with the gods, or the Celtic pot of gold waiting for you.

    This song by Shed Seven is full of the melancholy that yearning and hoping can be wrapped up in. We often think of being hopeful as being an optimistic and positive thing but being hopeful can be the hook, the connection, the thread that pulls us through the depths of despair. Hope can exist in our most darkest of places.

    I could deny
    But I’ll never realize
    I’m just chasing rainbows
    All the time

    ‘Chasing rainbows’ means trying to pursue the impossible or unattainable. There are moments, days and significant times in our lives where things may feel unattainable or unachievable. I know that there have been times in 2020 (where we’re living with Covid-19 in some kind of half-life) that have perhaps led some of us to feel that we’re chasing rainbows all the time.

    But rainbows have an element of surprise. We get excited when we see one. We look to see if it’s a full one or a double one. They can be fleeting or they can be there for a while. They raise our hopes and bring us light.

    And for those of us with a Christian faith, they remind us of God’s promise right back in the Book of Genesis – “When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” (Gen 9:16)

    Perhaps ‘chasing rainbows’ is all about chasing hope. Some may think that that’s unrealistic, or a waste of time, or pointless. But for me, there is always the promise of love, of new life, of hope and I really don’t mind if you find me chasing rainbows – all the time!

    Shed Seven are still making music and you can find them at https://www.shedseven.com/

  • ‘A Hazy Shade of Winter’ by Simon & Garfunkel

    Kim writes

    Methodists have long been known as being ‘born in song’ and indeed much of our theology is found within the hymns that we sing, both in our public worship and private devotions. Yet I am also aware that it is not only the songs that we find inside our tradition that can speak to us.

    As a child from the Walkman era with its radio cassettes and the TV show Top of the Pop’s I know that many profound faith statements can be discovered within what is often designated as ‘secular’ music.

    As a fan of both The Bangles (below) and Simon & Garfunkel, I have always loved the poetry contained within the song ‘A Hazy Shade of Winter.’ Despite initial appearances and the title, this song is not about the weather, the seasons or the time of year at all. Yes, records do show that Paul Simon wrote it during his time in England and it’s a fair bet that the ever-unpredictable English weather provided the beginnings of an idea for him; however, the song is about how at a point in time, our journey through life can change. The opening, and haunting refrain captivates me each time I hear it “Time, time, time, see what’s become of me”

    For some the time away from the church building, business and fellowship left us with an ache. As human beings we are designed for company and community, which is why I don’t ever recall Jesus sending the disciples out on any solo missions, and even those who walked towards Emmaus did so as a pair, keeping each other company as the discussed their sorrow, and yes we weep with those who mourn at lives lost during this time.

    For others of us the time became a space for rest, from overfilled diaries, expectations, from ‘ought’ and ‘must’. Suddenly and without much warning time took on a Sabbath element, which will come easier to some than others. Maybe you had time to read and do all the things on your to-do list?

    For others not much changed, diaries and schedules remained full. Back-to-back meetings on Zoom, Teams or whatever electronic platform was keeping track of your ‘Work from Home’ time. Indeed for some that transition time which was once spent on the commute into work (if you had one in the first place) was now spent at the computer checking emails much earlier in the day, and much later into the night. Time which was mainly defined as either at work or at home shifted for many, bringing with it a new search for a sustainable and helpful work/rest balance.

    Actually, I think it would be fair to say that we all will have, and will continue to, experience our time within an array of these roles, emotions and situations.

    It is also true that we all experience the same amount of time. The same 60 minutes of an hour, the same 24 hours of the day, the same 7 days that are in the week. As we each begin to look back on our time spent inside our homes, I wonder what it is that we see?

    Do we see that the time we took to light a candle or to clap outside our doors and in our streets has aided us in remembering those who were spending their time caring for others?

    Do we see that time when we smiled and thanked our postie or the shop checkout operator that we were, in fact, thanking all those whose role as frontline workers kept our food supplies and essential needs going?

    Do we see that by restricting our numbers in shops, not sitting in close contact in enclosed spaces, and not gathering in large groups we were demonstrating how much we loved our neighbour?

    Yet at the same time whilst the examination of time found within ‘A Hazy Shade of Winter’ is mostly reflective, it also contains the exhortation to “Hang on to your hopes, my friend…” and so here’s a thought:

    I wonder if, when the right amount of time has passed, we will look back and see that despite (or maybe because of) the times where we have struggled with silence, or hesitated to stop and be still in the times of anxiety, or if like me, have spent far too much time wrestling with the solitude, (has anyone been able to befriend isolation?) we have continued to experience those timely moments in which we recognise God’s presence with us anew? Aiding us with the recollection that, whilst we may have spent time these past months keeping socially distanced from each other, and even on our own, and may have a times even felt distanced from God, God in Jesus through the Holy Spirit has been keeping the covenant promise and has been with each one of us all this time?

    Find out more about Simon and Garfunkel at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3nswy0LNsE&list=RDM3nswy0LNsE&start_radio=1&t=1

    and The Bangles at http://www.thebangles.com/

  • ‘City of Love’ – Deacon Blue

    Gail writes:

    As lockdown was announced towards the end of March, I resisted all calls to make the most of this great opportunity that being at home offered. I didn’t want to master a new language; I ignored calls to join in online fitness sessions; I made no plans to transform our interiors or read all those books that have sat waiting patiently.

    Instead, it was simply a matter of survival.

    I aimed solely on getting through and staying well.

    Around this time Deacon Blue released their 9th studio album: City of Love. The title track seemed to follow me whenever I turned the radio on – it was always playing. I felt an instant affinity (isn’t it a joy when a song has that immediate impact?) and my spirits were lifted.

    “All that remains” sang Ricky Ross, “is a City of Love”.

    These words swam around my head endlessly it seemed.

    As lockdown unfolded I didn’t join the ranks of those doing extraordinary things: key workers putting in long, dedicated shifts or gestures of great altruism: fundraising or volunteering. Secretly part of me wished I was contributing more. Instead I was working at home. Sitting at my desk. Writing emails and making phone calls. It wasn’t exceptional but in the circumstances it felt all I was able to do.

    As the lyrics to ‘City of Love’ continue:

    “If you’ve got the will, you’ve got to keep on going”

    so I did, feeling the whole weight of these peculiar and surreal circumstances. And yet there was relief as time went by, a new divine warmth, a sense of God near, his hovering in close proximity that enabled me to “put what I’m carrying down”.

    These spiritual overtones in City of Love have spurred me on, a song that Ricky Ross has described as “a hope for the future”. During a season of strangely abnormal normality, existing in our own bubble, I’ve discovered my grand offering to the common good is in fact a small one. Little gestures that build a ‘City of Love’ in my own and the lives of others. Because that is all that remains: love for those dearest to me. Love for my neighbour. Contributions that lovingly demonstrate kindness and hopefulness. That seek to let someone else know they are seen and remembered in a time we’ve been forced to become distant. And God inhabits it all in his own mysterious way.

    This song (along with other album tracks such as ‘Wonderful’) have been rich and comforting as we’ve progressed through the days, weeks and now months of lockdown. Hopefully my tickets to hear Deacon Blue live again in October will remain valid, for Ricky to sing “all that remains is a City of Love” just so I can join in with gusto and a very thankful heart.

    Find out more about Deacon Blue at https://deaconblue.com/

  • ‘I hope I always’ – Nigel Stonier

    This week’s Friday Fix is from Rev. David Hardman who, like us, shares a joy in hearing the spiritual in secular music. He blogs at www.socalledsecular.org.

    David writes:

    This is a love song. A song that has a homely charm. It is not an epic piece of poetry loftily declaring undying affection, but a down to earth attempt to show commitment while recognising the frailties, and the ability to mess up relationships, that are in us all. I like the honesty and adore the fact that it is not a cliched love song!

    However, the refrain jars: ‘I hope I always stay worthy of your love’.

    In many ways, the refrain is the natural conclusion of the verses. The lover sings of their hope to do things right. The refrain is simply the summation of all that is expressed in the verse! The writer is clearly saying – if I can do all I hope to do – then I will show the qualities that deserve your continued love!

    The refrain works in the song, but it does not even begin to describe divine love.

    When John baptises Jesus, we are told that a voice comes from heaven and says: ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’ What has Jesus done in his life before this point that would make God love him? Nothing, nothing of note, nothing that the gospel writers feel should be recorded!

    When these words are echoed at the Transfiguration, much later in Jesus’ ministry, you could argue Jesus has merited, was worthy, of this declaration of love. He had preached, performed miracles and shown people God’s love! Yet, before his baptism there is no narrative to explain why God might be well pleased.

    When we teach about baptism, when we talk of it as an outward sign of God’s grace that is freely given, we are describing God’s love. A candidate for baptism does not need to prove themselves worthy. In Baptism God says: ‘this is my beloved child’. Within the Baptism service we say to the one to be baptised: ‘In Baptism, the word of scripture is fulfilled: ‘We love, because God first loved us.’’

    God is well aware of the frailties we all have and our ability to mess up. God is not going to take away love just because we don’t keep a promise or fail in a task! Because God loves us first, we don’t need to hope we always stay worthy of God’s love! Yet, we are challenged to respond to what is divinely and freely given. We love because God first loved us.

    Too often we forget this; we fill our diaries with appointments, meetings and events, taking pride in being overworked, and therefore able to feel worthy of God’s love…

    I hope I always fill my diary

    I hope I always have more to do

    While there’s a space and I have time

    I hope my work is never through

    I hope I always keep on giving

    I hope I always keep awake

    I hope I keep on pushing myself and

    Never need another break

    I hope I always stay worthy of your love!

    For those of us guilty of filling every moment of every day in God’s service it is sobering to be locked down. And we struggle. Yes, we can still try and fill the hours and minute and refuse to take time off, but inevitably there is more time to listen and reflect on ourselves and our discipleship. God wants us to know, even though we can’t respond the way we used to, that we are loved.

    So, when these restrictions hit you hardest, listen… when you miss family and friends most acutely, listen… when you cannot bare another Sunday within the same four walls and not at church, listen… when your self-isolation passes so slowly, listen… when you are desperate for something to do, listen… when you feel all alone, lost and at your wit’s end, listen…

    …listen for God and hear God utter the gracious words ‘you are my beloved child, with whom I am well pleased’. There will be plenty of time to respond when lock down is over…

    More about Nigel Stonier can be found here   https://www.nigelstonier.com/