Category: Blog Entry

Time to mark the passing of Conor Cruise O’Brien, one of Ireland’s most extraordinary politicians, intellectuals and journalists. He was the person who began Ireland’s long tradition of service to the UN by acting as the Secretary-General’s representative in the Katanga crisis in the Congo in the ’50’s. When I was a student in Dublin in the ’70’s, he was a Labour minister in the Fine Gael-Labour coalition. He was the person who banned Sinn Fein from the airwaves. He despised the corruption of the Charles Haughey era and he detested the moral equivocation which Ireland allowed itself in dealing with republicanism and its associated violence. He ended up an an opponent of the peace process and an advocate for Northern Unionists. A remarkable man.

And the thing about the Moving Statues? Well, Ireland went through a period of over-heated religious fervour about moving statues at Ballinspittle – indeed like the Loch Ness Monster they regularly come back to life just to keep a reasonable level of interest. Since the Cruiser’s death, I’ve been searching hard for his comment following the death of a schoolgirl in childbirth in a cemetery in – I think it was – Granard in the midlands. I can’t find it but my recollection is that he commented, ‘Well the statues didn’t move to help her’

And the dreams? Well in my own over-heated state, I’ve been waking with absolute clarity about my dreams. Black and white, I’m afraid. I woke up on Friday saying to myself that, since it was now 40 years since men went to the moon, it was surprising that it had taken so long devise a Christmas tree stand which doesn’t fall over. I also found myself at the gates of Balmoral in the early morning attempting to take a photograph – but finding my camera stuck in ‘review’ mode. Am I a closet royalist? Or am I condemned to be for ever a spectator/commentator?

And finally, today’s Sunday Times tells me that Roseanna Cunningham has set up a Facebook Group called Campaign for the Pilgrim Way [Scotland] which is attempting to confirm a route from St Andrews to Iona. I’ve joined and you should too. I might even think about cycling it when the weather improves.  Interested?

A sad day yesterday.  We gathered to say our farewells to Andy who died long, long before his time.  We … we means Andy’s wife, Nicola, and his two little girls .. and the group of friends with whom Andy and Nicola went to university .. and the friends from the Mother and Toddler Group who wheeled their buggies into church .. and Andy’s parents Leslie and Maureen  .. and Nicola’s family ..

And because Andy grew up in Portadown, we sort of encountered a solid wall of Portadown at its best.  I don’t know whether Easyjet put on an extra flight.  But they were all there.  And I thought again about the specialness of a stable community. Forget the bad stuff for which Portadown used to be famous.  A settled community – big enough not to be claustrophobic and small enough for close friendships to be nurtured over 20 or 30 years.  And it is gifted with humour which makes no attempt to blunt the impact of a dreadful moment but somehow makes it bearable.  When you see that kind of unconditional friendship, there is nothing to compare with it.

To move sideways for a moment, this must be one of the first funerals at which both ‘Once in Royal’ and ‘The Fields of Athenry’ were sung.  But then one of the wonderful paradoxes of Ireland is that, while rugby is strong in the protestant community in Northern Ireland, it is an all-Ireland game.  So Portadown Rugby Club has been a model of cross-community enterprise.  And when Lansdowne Road reopens, they’ll all be there cheering for the men in green.  You couldn’t invent it.

So tomorrow is another day – and I’ll have a word about The Cruiser and the Moving Statue of Ballinspittle  

As I have been emerging from the sporadic feverishness of the flu, I thought you might be interested in some of my more interesting dreams – but maybe that will be too much information.

A Christmassy Thought for the Day this morning.  Dundee at 7 am just wasn’t for me since I am fighting flu.  Added to that .. one of my pleasures in life is doing live radio with the second hand and doing the time exACTly.  Which wasn’t helped when the second hand did the first lap just fine but stalled on the uphill path in the second minute.  Obviously felt pretty much like I did.

I’ve been interested in the establishment/disestablishment debate today.  A complex issue for another day, no doubt.  But I am always interested in the extent to which establishment makes the C of E seem bigger and more substantial than it is – and the amount of institutional energy which goes into sustaining that.  It reminds me of the delightful comment of Donald Caird, former Archbishop of Dublin, who commented that the church seemed exhausted because it was always walking on tip toe – trying to be bigger than it really was.  But I also noted comments today from Bishop James Jones of Liverpool who pointed to what I think is one of the real glories of the C of E – that in deprived areas of Liverpool and the other big cities of England other public institutions have gone away – but the church, its clergy and people remain.

I’ve gradually come to understand that, whether it is the world economic system, or our domestic economy …. it’s all the same stuff.

So the Irish Times tells me this morning that the Irish government hopes to share with private equity in recapitalising the Irish banks.  They plan to put in 10 bn euro.  Since they don’t have it lying around just like that, it’s going to come from a contingency fund to do with public service pensions.  Which seems to me pretty much like me raiding the car fund to go on holiday – or raiding the holiday fund to buy a car.  Reassuring or not reassuring?

And then the story of the Madoff billions.  It’s the oldest scam in the business – use the money coming in to pay the most amazing returns on capital.  And banks and financiers line up to commit millions and billions.  Yet if it’s too good to be true it must be too good to be true.

One would like to think that one or two of the masters of the universe will be pygmified by all this.  But I doubt it.  And the actuarial valuation of our Pension Fund is looming.  I don’t want to be the first nonagenarian bishop.

Looking for a Christmas tree and lost in the outer suburbs of Burrelton, we saw a sign.  And in a trice we were in the walled garden where several hundred trees were growing just waiting for us to choose …  But which one? We were accompanied by the lady of the house – a most wonderful character in a tweed hat – and the faithful John with chain saw at the ready.

Alison is a great one for searching for perfect tree.  It will, of course, be Anglican to the roots.  Or Goldilocks.  Not too tall or too short.  Not too bushy or too bare.  Even all the way round.  So we chose a nice one with a suitably eccentric kink in the top.  John stepped forward with the chain saw and the job was done.  I winced.

Another day .. another thought.  This time it’s the controversy about assisted suicide which this week’s TV programme stirred.  I do have strong feelings about this one.  It seems to me that somewhere in the sitting and the waiting which is part of caring for somebody who is terminally ill there is space for healing and acceptance to grow.  I feel little warmth about faux-solemn names like Dignitas – rather like Robert ‘get me out of here’ Kilroy-Silk’s late and unlamented Veritas.

Well what goes around comes around.  It doesn’t seem all that long since Norman Tebbitt famously told the unemployed to ‘Get on your bike’ and look for work.  And as the entire workforce of Woolworths – and many others – face the dole queue two weeks before Christmas, the government chooses to take a major initiative about getting the long-term unemployed back to work.

I suppose it’s an easy political target in tough times and a view that many of us would share.  I’ve visited many a household in my time where a smart shove on the back of the bike wouldn’t come amiss.  But several generations of unemployment … multiple deprivation ..  poor diet, health and lifestyle … dependency culture.  It will take a lot more than the kind of government initiative which is being planned to shift all that.

And, to be  honest, as I worked my way round the more depressed areas of housing in my parish, I gradually came to the conclusion that government had decided that there was an irreducable minimum of long term unemployment which society could afford to carry with it.  But maybe not.  We shall see.

The other interesting theme of today is assisted suicide.  But that awaits tomorrow’s Thought for the Day.

One of the down-sides of the bishopping life is a lack of continuity.  One constantly drops in on situations and miss the deep-down continuity which parish/congregational ministry brings.  I always feel that particularly in Advent and Lent.

So it was good to meet John the Baptist today in Kirriemuir.  I doubt if his camel skins would have been enough to keep him warm this morning.  His wild man bearing always challenges my desire to organise and strategise.

And Kirriemuir was a good place to be.  I didn’t venture into the pulpit – which is one of our most vertiginous.  But we had Nicola’s confirmation and a congregation of almost 60 on a freezing cold day.  So there’s plenty of Advent hope around.

Well the weather is certainly making its presence felt hereabouts.  -7C seems quite common at present and snow is forecast.  The Blogstead stables are full of the sound of ostlers blowing on their fingernails and all that sort of thing.

One interesting interwoven dimension of Blogstead life is a slight problem with doorbells.  At present if you press the doorbell in No 3, it rings in No 2 and vice versa.  Hours of harmless Yuletide fun for all the family as this tendency extends to the phones, the flushing of the loos, etc., etc.

I’ve been pondering the issues arising from the Report on Haringey Social Services.  The commentators yesterday were suggesting that the failures were typical of a form-filling, box-ticking and back-minding mindset in the public services – which means that people don’t actually see what is in front of them to see.  And no doubt that’s true.  But my knowledge of Social Services tells a story of pressure to deliver ever more on reducing budgets – and of staff who know that when things go wrong and [genuine] mistakes are made, they will receive little or no support.

Meanwhile I can see the same tendencies creeping into church life – and we seem to import both the worst and the best of practice from the secular world.  Appointment processes become difficult.  Sometimes because people struggle to come to terms with the need to use the best practice we can.  Sometimes people’s view of best practice – imported from a particular sphere of secular life – makes the vocational discernment which is the heart of it almost impossible to achieve.  I find myself increasingly cautious about making decisions – and this is often good.  Which committee do I need to give its approval?  Do I need to consult our Registrar [legal officer]?

Most of that I’m actually happy about.  I don’t want the kind of authority which claims absolute freedom of action without accountability.  I’ve seen enough of the damage which that does.  But.  I need to function out of a mindset which is scripturally and spiritually alive – otherwise we cease to be the ones that we say we are.  And what use is that?