Learning to Love the Social Media

I text, write emails and use , Facebook on my laptop and Whatsapp on my mobile. For me the social media carry both hopes and fears.

I am grateful to the proprietors of Facebook for contact with long lost cousins and distant friends. To people who are shut in or whose loved ones are on another continent it must be an incalculable boon. But I recall a lunch with some of our grandchildren. The room was eerily silent. Their heads were bowed and they were tapping away at their mobile 'phones. Exasperated my wife threatened to throw the devices in a bucket of water. The intimacy of the remote had stolen the tenderness of the immediate. The precedence of a text can weaken the respect that should be shown the person in front of us. People post pictures of the meals they eat but I cannot help wondering if they are so busy recording and sending that they fail to share the experience with the folk they are with or fail to fully relish the experience for themselves.

Facebook has the potential to raise unexpected barriers. People post about sports and news local to them without a word of explanation. Incomprehensible posts are thrust on to an international medium. This obstructs true communication. Other posts are incomprehensible for another reason. Some friends do not realise that neither body language nor tone of voice is conveyed by Facebook. It leaves me pondering what is explicit and what is ironic.

I note that many posts shared are slogans often prepared by organisations. I fear a danger here for understandably these posts are not nuanced and meant to be striking. Is this becoming a substitute for thought? It is a danger that predates the social media. The press has already tempted us to react in head lines rather than argue carefully from a reasoned moral and philosophic position. This has reduced much of the essential debate in our society to a shouting match and this is not The social media where we do not need to look our protagonist in the eye tempts us to be less well mannered than we would be normally. The advent of the social media could be the dawn of a new age for reasoned argument instead it may be tolling its death knell.

Another of my fears is the decline of certain literary modes of expression. Is the letter, that hunting ground of the biographers of the great, dying? We no longer write a letter but we dash off an email. Not all politicians write articles. Some of them tweet. My fears are just that. They need not come to fruition. The potential of the media is the destruction of intimacy, reasoned debate and careful literary expression but used aright they could also serve their preservation.

We go to a Hindu Wedding

I was full of wonder as I left my comfort zone to witness what to me was an unknown drama. We boarded a tiny but covered ferry. Rain threatened. We landed after a few moments on a tiny Island on the Thames; stepped up to a grey paved area before a modern building to the right. We were on Raven's Ait

I expected to see my sister in a sari,, She was the mother of the groom. But here was her husband Stephen and son Kevin, father and brother of the groom, both in Tamil dress. This was a reminder that a Hindu wedding involves the joining of families , not just individuals. Preparing for what I thought would be a lengthy rite I asked for the loo. My nephew Kevin swathed in clothes of cream and gold led me to a house in the shrubbery. A figure emerged from a side room. She looked as though she had climbed off some colourful Hindu bas relief, henna, gold and a bright sari. The figure greeted me “Uncle”. This was the bride who was to marry my nephew, Ian. Having greeted her I went to the main building to savoury snacks and to waiting for it all to begin.

I remember the event as we do most of the past, in snap shots. I am indebted to whoever wrote the superbly produced leaflet describing what was going on to us puzzled non-Hindus, for filling in the gaps.

We entered the Britannia Room. It might have been in a village hall anywhere in England,; but it had been adorned. Flowers encased the aisle and at the front an arch covered over and before with mainly white flowers There were over ten of us in our immediate family party.. We were urged to go further forward but shyly we wanted to stay in a row together. I regretted this later. I would like to have seen more of the ceremony.

The band came first They were loud and during the first part of the ceremony I did not pay much attention to them but my grandson stretched over to me and said.” They are really good”. He is a musician himself so I began to listen carefully and discovered a treasure trove of riffs and harmonies. Ian walked down the aisle with a teenage escort. Both were dressed in matching smart Tamil dress, Ian's hat had fan like structure on the front. He was in a jacket that buttoned to the neck. I remember cream and gold and purple.

For the first three stages of the wedding the groom was without his bride. He was welcomed, sanctified and blessed. At stage four the bride arrived with her entourage and in stage five she was transferred from her family to the groom's. She then received gifts from Ian and his family including a sari. During all this I became aware of was the chanting of two priests using Sanskrit and Tamil. They sat below the married couple who were on a dais. The bride then left the hall and changed into the sari she had been given.

On her return the music rose to a crescendo. The ritual became personal with gifts and food being exchanged. After this I noticed a bright flame burning from amongst the decorations. The couple processed around it three times. It was during the first circuit that the couple were reminded of their seven vows. It is these seven vows that made me think about the meaning of the Hindu Wedding ceremony. ( to nourish each other, to grow together in strength, to share our joy and sorrow, to live in love,to care for our family, to remain life long friends and to attain salvation.)

The rest of the ceremony was one of celebration. There was even a competition between the bride and the groom for a ring at the bottom of a basin of coloured water to predict who would be the predominant partner.

The Ghost of Perfection : Searching for Humanity by Joseph Haward

The Ghost of Perfection : Searching for Humanity by Joseph Haward

Not a review, just an initial reaction.

I enjoyed this book. It made me think. Joseph Haward honestly admits that it is a distillate and blending of the works of others ( e.g. Girard, Ellul, Gregory of Nyssa ). I was out of my depth quite often in this book paying the price for my lack of knowledge of the Eastern Patriarchs and contemporary film despite explanations in the text. At times I struggled with the words used; but I gained valuable insights from this book the aim of which was to find “what it means to be human in light of the person of Jesus”. I would recommend any thoughtful Christian to read this book because of the importance of the theme and the essential pearls to be found with in, even if like me you are not a professional theologian.

The subtitle of the book is “Searching for Humanity”. I learnt more about what harms our humanity than what it means to be human. The search for the ills inflicted on humanity is a praiseworthy aim and the author gives critiques of two entities that have the potential to drain us of our humanity ; some forms of evangelicalism and consumerism. Sadly the former has been heavily influenced by the latter. Both seek perfection and both are disappointed but do not know it.

Out of this careful thinking are born precious insights. Haward's analyses of Triumphalism, a Fix it God,and violence are invaluable. He has set so many hounds running . More books are called for “ True humanity revealed by Divinity”( a commentary on the Gospels) to name but one. He has been so careful not to write a self help manual or create new rules of behaviour that he has avoided spelling out any practical implications of his thinking. Another book perhaps “Laying the Ghost of Perfection “?

Peter M. Grinham 29.9.2017

On Writing

On Writing

There are two types of writing

1. For oneself where anything goes.
2. For others. Here the reader rules. Is the writing understood? Does it help the reader?

In answering these last two questions I have been guided by two women.

1. Our church caretaker who asked “ What would our toddlers’ mums make of that?” ( A toddler’s mum could be a girl just out of school or a high flying intellectual.) A crude guide is to keep both sentences and words short. Brevity is the key to clarity.
2. My mother who asked, “ How does that help me make a better rice pudding ? Our writing must touch our reader’s life. Contact is the key to impact.

Peter M. Grinham 16^th September 2017

How it happened.

Many folk are brought in the Christian faith but reject it as they grow up. I did not. Here is an outline of how I came to a faith I was to retain. It does not include the various contributions and nudges it received from folk like a milkman Andy Wilson and a scholar like Charles Martin. It also does not include the many touches of grace that God has given me.

As a child of seven, already knowledgeable about the Bible stories and brought up to pray and read the Bible each day I was sent to some children’s meetings at the local Gospel Hall. We were given tracts. I was given “Safety, Certainty and Enjoyment” by George Cutting. It compared life to a railway journey and divided the passengers into three classes, those who knew where they were going, those who did not know and those who did not care. I got my mum to read it to me and in a deep desire for certainty I decided to follow Christ. After such a childlike conversion I was ripe for rebellion. The miracle was that though rebellion threatened it never came. I joyfully took my stand as a believer. At Grammar School. I argued each point with my RE teacher. The threat of rebellion had to wait until my University years.

As a student I contemplated rebellion against what I had accepted in my childhood. I had come against the Judeo-Christian moral code and realised I could not fulfil it. This produced an agony of guilt. If I could not satisfy God I would do away with Him. The trouble was that creation got in the way; not its intricacies and interconnectedness but its existence. Matter required a maker and laws required a law giver. The stone exists and when I throw it into the air it inevitably returns to earth. God had to stay.

The challenges of moral inadequacy developed in my soul throughout my teens. It was a verse in Romans that came to my rescue. Romans 10:13 (AV) “For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved”. I gave into the God who had given His Son to die an unimaginably horrid death to deal with a man like me. The man endorsed the faith of the child.

Peter M. Grinham 3^rd August 2017

Mankind Indicted.

The gorilla scratched himself where we would never scratch ourselves in public. But he was an old silver back and the meeting he was addressing expected nothing less of him.

“ You all know why we are here .” he began and then proceeded to tell them as is the wont of chairmen , using a hundred words where ten would have done. He was short of breath and had to pause frequently.

“ We have to discuss the fate, the destiny, the ultimate ontological (gasp!) conclusion ( “Oh when is this going to end?” thought the meerkat.) of mankind, humanity, homo (pause) sapiens.”

There was an interruption.. The listening animals burst into gusts of sardonic laughter. The gorilla actually stopped and looked totally nonplussed. The irony of a species that had reduced itself to the point of extinction should call itself sapiens , i.e. wise, passed him by. I shall not report the rest of his remarks for fear that this report would develop the dimensions of War and Peace. Two issues faced the animals. Was mankind worth saving and if “yes” how?

A raddled old lioness spoke up first. Lions were like that . They assumed superiority. Despite her hide looking like a threadbare carpet her speech was clear and impelling.

“ I have to confess that with increasing maturity I have developed a taste for humans recently. The older ones are a bit tough and some of the smaller bones need watching out for.”

“ I have the same trouble with fish.” interrupted a bear. “ I was thinking we might breed humans for entertainment. They can be made to dance which is fun and when they fight each other...wow!”

The lioness scowled at the bear and said very slowly and emphatically. “ I was going to suggest that we farm them. “

She had to be careful for he was much stronger than she was. A frosty confrontation threatened. This was interrupted a refined voice

“We can do both, but we must have some for entertainment. They are so cute and their lovely voices quite entrance me. “ It was a meerkat.

There then followed a lengthy dissertation on the virtues of consensus and compromise from the verbose gorilla. This was so boring that one of the tortoises present did not simply fall asleep but actually fell into hibernation. The lengthy and tedious speech had progressed the meeting by not even a millimetre.

The attention of the meeting was then grabbed by a Rhesus monkey. “They could be useful to us” said the monkey.

She then went on to describe in graphic detail the things man had done to her species. Mothers moved to cover their offspring's ears. The sloth awoke and objected to such bad taste. But the zebra said such things had to be said. He did tend to see things in term of black and white.

One of the tortoises had managed to stay awake and indicated that she wanted to speak. Before she managed to start the gorilla intervened. He pointed out that mammals were not the only class of vertebrate to occupy the planet. He described each in great and scientific detail and expanded on the division between the warm and cold blooded animals.

“We must regard as particularly gratifying how we have at this meeting managed to bridge the gap between poikilotherms and homoeotherms (the cold and warm blooded animals ).Perhaps the former will prevent us from over heated.” he went on pausing only for the other animals to show there appreciation of this latest whimsy. None of them did. He gave a little encouraging chuckle. He had never had any difficulty at laughing at his own jokes.

It was then found that the tortoise, the one who wanted to speak had retreated into her shell and fallen asleep. The meerkats vigorously shook her . Having shaken her they waited for her to re-emerge. They waited at the wrong end and were greatly surprised when she did stretch out. When she did they were astounded at the bitter tirade that followed.

“ Put them in a small cage and let them rot in their own excrement. They robbed us of our homes. Now we will rob them.!”

A sympathetic murmur arose from the animals.

An ambivalent beagle spoke up next. “ I am conflicted. Some of my kind were treated very well by the humans, Almost too well,”

“Yah humans' little pets!” snarled a nearby fox.

“ but they forced us to hunt and slaughter our near relatives.”

“Didn't stop you from enjoying it” snarled the fox.

“That's enough!” bellowed the gorilla blinking in surprise at his own terseness. The rest of the animals settled down relieved that they did not suffer a wordy diatribe on conflict resolution.

A donkey now spoke up“ They beat me, they worked me, they insulted me and nearly broke me as they did other mammals”

He was interrupted by a hoot from an owl on a tree nearby.

“ I beg your pardon,” he corrected himself “other animals. They did terrible things to us and they should have a taste of their own medicine.”

That caused the kangaroo to leap into the discussion. “All this talk of revenge! Aren't we sinking to the level of mankind ourselves?”

At this point there was a strange intervention. A passing cockroach wanted to have her say, Few could hear but the owl picked up the gist of what it was saying and relayed it to the rest of the meeting.

“She says that she is deeply insulted that an animal should even be thought of being able to sink to the level of a human being.”

There then followed a tense argument between the monkey and the kangaroo for the next quarter of an hour which the gorilla summarised in the following three quarters of an hour. Then spoke the Elephant “ Let us give man one more chance, Let us restrain our desire for revenge. Let us confine a few of them in ideal conditions and see what happens.”

There was a murmur of assent and the animals agreed on this course of action ; but the owl said” It's been tried before and it did not work out too well.

They were just about to all go off the their respective habitats when a pigeon flew in bring this message.

“Yesterday the last man was eaten. Mankind is extinct”

Peter M.Grinham 22^nd May 201