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| Guardian |
...were we Mr Cameron?
There's a bit of a rant on the way but it is more in sadness than anger. So this week, we found out that people use offshore tax havens to hide money from their governments, or their wives or the lady that cleans for them. This, I think came as a surprise to precisely no-one.
There were a few choice names that came up and the people of Iceland were especially vexed as they had been told that there was no money anywhere in the whole country and it was fairly disappointing to find out that one of the reasons for that was that their leader had been spiriting it away to Panama in his wife's name. Other than that, we were all unhappy but not especially concerned. What could we do? Then the name "Cameron" came up and it all kicked off.
I take no pleasure in watching a man squirm the way our Prime Minister did this week. It would, of course, been better to be honest right at the beginning and say exactly what went on but which of us hasn't been guilty of being a bit economical with the truth and mumbling a bit in the hope that all this unpleasantness will fade away?
Now I didn't vote for him but I don't think Mr Cameron is anywhere near the most unpleasant person in his party. There is a lot of competition for that spot and I don't even think he is Premier League. I also feel that there is a possibility that some of these more unsavoury elements may be lining up someone as a successor to their Dear Leader and may be stirring things up a bit behind the scenes. (Too House of Cards? OK.)
What was the most upsetting was to see laid out before your eyes, something that I always thought was true anyway. All that stuff about us all being in this together. We were never all in this together. Not really. In a week when I know of a young woman who has had her toes removed and her lungs wrecked after a flesh eating disease took its toll, it's not really true to say that you are in it with her is it? Because this week she has had all her benefits and her mobility car taken off her - so college will be a nightmare and work impossible. Then there is the couple I know. She is a permanent wheelchair user. he is her carer and has several disabilities himself. Still he was managing to hold down a job. It was in a hotel on Dartmoor as a reception manager. He was very highly thought of but he will have to give it up now. Guess why? because you can't get to a hotel on Dartmoor without a car. Well you can catch two buses and walk three quarters of a mile. If you don't need a stick to walk.
I'm not sure that someone who knows that, whatever happens, he doesn't have to worry too much because he can always play out some jiggery pokery with a few hundred thousand can't seriously think that we believe him when he says that we are all in this together can he? I think we all knew that in reality we never were but now we get to see it in black and white.
Thank the Lord for the flippin' Durrells - that's what I say. My Family and Other Animals is one of my favourite books so adaptations make me nervous but this was great. It is a ray of sunshine in a sea of programmes where people are having horrible things happen to them. HOH follows them all - he especially likes a Scandi drama. But even he came into the kitchen after watching Marcella - the new drama with Anna Friel - and remarked "Good grief - that was nasty." Of course he said she was very good, which she obviously is and it's written really well but I'm just not bothering with it. Same with Line of Duty - you know, when the Film "Seven" had a severed head in it, it was so shocking every one I knew talked about it for days. Now we'll be getting them in Blue Peter soon, along with the obligatory tortured/imprisoned female. I really miss Morse sometimes.
Anyway - while I am ranting. Be careful what you wish for drama wise. I stopped watching The Night Manager because halfway through the second episode I realised that I had read it. (Pin sharp as usual, I am) I had read it and not enjoyed it. I thought the ending was downbeat and unsatisfying and SPOILERS - the baddie did not get what was coming to him. So when I heard that they had changed the end, I sat down and had a watch and, indeed they tied a lot of loose ends up and everything was all rosy and.. and.. I didn't like it! Maybe the end was meant to be less than satisfying. Maybe when someone writes a story they have that unhappy ending running silently through it so anything else jars a bit. I don't know. Anyway - for the record I am probably the only person in the universe to say this but I didn't think Hugh Laurie was all that as the villain. I thought he did "deranged genius" really well in House but I just couldn't see him as the kingpin of an international arms group. Quite frankly, he never looks as if he can be bothered to put in the amount of effort that being an international criminal would take. Just my opinion. Nothing to get worked up about.
Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls! Heb 12
Is it Christian to flag - a bit - sometimes? I think it must be. Do you know how I know? Because the Bible tells us not to flag and therefore, people must have been flagging if God had to tell them not to flag. Oh do keep up at the back!
I don't know about you but it has seemed like a long winter here. Not that it has been extra cold or anything because it hasn't. It just seems to have dragged on. We have seen a few changes here at Martha Towers what with the FOWs leaving home. (Although one is back at the moment - pretending to revise) HOH and I get on pretty well all things considered but the sprogs moving on has caused me to be a bit weird in the odd small dose. A friend warned me this would happen a few years ago. She went into a full on depression when hers left. I'm not sure I have gone that far, for which I am grateful, rather than giving myself any credit, but there is certainly a sense of "What now?"
I'm not talking about HOH and I not enjoying what our parents used to call "A Nice Drive Out" - without any eye rolling or tutting - we intend to do lots of that but when you have spent a good proportion of your energy looking after the FOWs and then they are gone it is a bit - well sad. And I have flagged. Yes I have. I am normally a cheerful sort, my attitude IS gratitude but I have found myself asking about the way forward. Of course, asking God is the last thing I think to do - I usually like to leave praying about something until I have reached desperation levels. It's a little quirk of mine that probably drives God quite bonkers. But I am sort of asking now - whither am I to go? (Sorry - gone a bit Friendly Persuasion there) I don't suppose that this is anything that millions of parents before me haven't experienced but there you are. I am nothing if not unoriginal!
I thought a bit about the Resurrection. About the reality of the Resurrection. I struggle a bit with pictures of glowing cloaks and a half naked Jesus stepping on soldiers and waving a flag. I like this Caravaggio about the meal on the road to Emmaus. I like that Jesus looks a bit careworn.The events of the last few days maybe having taken a toll. I like the split second of recognition on the faces of the disciples and the way their hands are almost touching. I also think the two extra people in the painting are interesting - one looks like he will take a bit more convincing thank you very much and the lady looks so worn down by life that she is not sure how much difference this will make to her anyway.
It is interesting, I think, how we react to the miraculous in this life. even the most pivotal and important miracle. It's like our reaction to the tumour that is no longer on the x-ray, the last child pulled from the rubble of an earthquake, the second chance given to the plane crash survivor.
This was a hard fought for miracle. It didn't come easily. Victory did not fall into the lap of Jesus. Yet still, victory it was. How it affects though depends on what we do with it. We step into it and it reflects in how we live our lives or it doesn't.
Today was Jesus' day of victory. Now we have to go away and make the chance we have been given mean something for us and those we are called to love.
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| Holbein |
It's always darkest just before the dawn - or something. So today was the day before the big day. We know that now, so it's easy to be all full of faith about the promise now. Because we are here all these years later and we know it happened. Harder I think for the followers of Jesus at the time. There were perhaps a few obtuse prophecies - half remembered - about the temple or Jesus returning. But all they had for the moment were nightmares about what they had seen yesterday and a dead body. And, because of the brutal times in which they lived, they were quite aware of what a dead body looked like, thank you very much. This man was most definitely dead - none of this swooning nonsense that some people waffle about these days. He has been tortured and killed. No one could deny that.
And the day lasted just as long as every other day. No clues, no encouragement, just tears and bewilderment. What was that all about then? So they made some arrangements, perhaps to get together and pray. A bit half hearted maybe and not everyone would be there. Peter seemed to have gone back to his old life. So Mary Magdalene and some of the other women made arrangements to go and embalm the body - not check if he had risen by the way - look after his dead body. They would meet early in the morning, as soon as sabbath was over.
And all the time, while the tiniest grains of faith were still binding them as friends, nudging them to pray and to stand their ground in their everyday lives, the miracle was approaching. As each minute passed it was getting nearer and nearer. No warning, no signs but it was on its way.
When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so they could embalm him. Very early on Sunday morning, as the sun rose, they went to the tomb.
