On the Opening and Closing of Doors

ON THE OPENING & CLOSING OF DOORS

Well, life has certainly been eventful, and frustrating, since my fall (http://sinnaluvva.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/a-fall-becomes-set-back-and-shaggy-dog.html & http://sinnaluvva.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/gratitude-for-nhs.html) but, nothing really much in any way I could regard as positive. Because my PPI (omeprazole) was not compatible with the clopidogrel, the GP switched my prescription back to lansoprazole; I had taken lansoprazole for a number of years and had discovered the most effective dosage was 30mg twice per day, morning and evening. It, therefore, came as something of a surprise to find that I had only been prescribed 15mg once per day.

The new medication regime began on the 19^th September but, so painful and discomforting had my GORD and IBS symptoms become, that by the 27^th September it became essential for me to have an emergency appointment at my GP surgery. The appointment was with a nurse practitioner who duly increased my dosage to 30mg once per day.  Even with this dosage, I still had to resort to a strong antacid each evening.

Meanwhile, I was twice proffered an earlier appointment (in a saga which began a few months back) with the surgeon to discuss removal of my gall bladder but, I automatically declined as I now needed to get into a pattern with the amlodipine & clopidogrel and, I realized that if an operation was to take place I would need to be off the clopidogrel for around one week.

By way of diversion, we have an additional resident chez nous. Beth, the eldest of my two step-daughters, was discharged from hospital in York on 10^th October following a bicycle accident on the 3^rd. She has a fracture in the neck of her humerus, necessitating immobilizing of her right arm and plates in her jaw at the sites of two of her three jaw fractures. This latter condition means that she is only able to manage soft / pureed food. My beloved OH has to help her both to dress and to bathe / shower.

Eventually the pre-arranged appointment, on the 23^rd October arrived and ma belle chauffeuse accompanied me to the clinic at the District Hospital. The doctor soon explained to me that as I had recently had a stroke, albeit a minor one, she would be unable to carry out the operation as the anaesthetic required could trigger a further more severe stroke and, although I could apply for referral after six months of reasonably good health, she personally didn’t seem much in favour of this, as she felt there would still be the risk of a more major stroke. When my beloved asked the surgeon what should happen if I had a further infection of the gall bladder, she suggested that antibiotics, albeit with the possibility of increased antibiotic resistance, were much preferable to a risk of paralysis. She was of course aware of my family history [my mother suffered a major stroke within seven days of experiencing a TIA – spending her remaining years with total paralysis of one side of her body – when she was of an age only marginally advanced from my current state of being].

Whilst I was somewhat relieved that the doctor hadn’t pussyfooted about the rather stark options, it did seem to emphasize the whole mortality issue as, later in the day, I began to feel a sense of desolation regarding an apparent futility of existence. I wondered, for a while, if I was reverting to a state of depression! In the clear light of a new day, chronic illness notwithstanding, I was so blessed with a loving wife and family, a catholic taste and enjoyment of various musical genres, literature, fine arts, and a faith that never lets go of me even when belief has evaporated.

A Susceptibility to Faith

This post originally appeared on another blog of mine in 2005, based on some earlier scribblings of mine in an (unfriendly/hostile) online Christian Forum



A Susceptibility to Faith?


After undergoing an evangelical conversion experience at the age of 19, there followed a spell of fervent evangelising (perhaps alienating rather than helping the victims of my outreach!). On experiencing the more conservative social values of my evangelical peers, I was forced, by the more "mature" Christians, to choose between Christ or social-activism.

At this point I tried hard to reject my Christian faith, even to the point of asking God to reveal the unforgivable sin to me! An involvement in political activism, an investigation of Eastern religions, and a later dabbling with drugs, somehow never managed to fill a God-shaped void in my life.

Eighteen months of born-again Christianity was followed by many years in the wilderness. Various apparent coincidences led me back to a Christian faith, sensing the prodigality of the Father's love as he came out to welcome me despite my aversion to many of his ardent followers.

My journey this time was via existential & linguistic philosophy, literature and biblical criticism, subsequently by degree and post-grad studies in Theology.

The secular homophobic attitude of many evangelicals saddens me, a reminder of the social conservatism that forced me to seek de-conversion nearly forty years ago. Although evangelicals now recognize the need for committed social action, their intolerance and fear of peoples sexuality can blind them to many real injustices in society at large.

Isn't it strange that issues of militarism, party politics, usury etc. do not bring the threat of schism to the Anglican communion! Arms dealing and legalised extortion are obviously insignificant when compared to the issue of gay clergy!

My theology is now more liberal /radical than formerly yet, I still read and study (contextually) the same scriptures, follow the same Lord and am prompted by what seems to to be the same Holy Spirit as my evangelical brothers & sisters.

Is it a psychological weakness on my part, that I need FAITH, or is Faith my necessary means to overcome the apparent impossibility of deriving an ought from an is?

Jesus and Me

originally published on my 'Mal's Murmurings' blog in September 2005

Jesus transformed my life but, perhaps, in turn I changed his. His

story has been transmitted to us via faith communities and, to

some extent, each believer adapts this person to their own needs.

The power of symbols is simply amazing. One time, I entered into

a personal relationship with Jesus and, my God, was it hard. It’s

strange how he expected me to take on the comfortable lower

middle-class lifestyle of my peers in the faith. Some of them knew

no better, they’d grown up with him as had I but, they’d never seen

the need to rebel.

Rebellion, now there’s a pain, one may even have to start asking

and, even worse, answering questions! Me and Jesus got along fine

for quite some time, we shared all these intimate conversations but,

no … he wasn’t prepared to back me whatever I chose to do; the

pastor knew best on that score. God, how I loved Jesus social

conscience and his love of the company of outsiders to the faith but,

according to the pastor, it was only because he was divine that he

couldn’t be tainted. It seems that somehow we poor fallen

creatures couldn’t take that risk so, we had to set ourselves apart.

It wasn’t long before we parted company, at least the church and

me; I don’t think the Jesus symbol ever let me go! My journey took

me a long way round after that, via Eastern religions, Trotskyist

politics, and experimentation with various substances, asking

uneasy questions and collapsing along the way.

All this time I remained under the spell of this divine symbol Jesus;

in him I found a voice and image of inclusivity, his demands may be

hard but ultimately that became part of the attraction. If no

demands were made how could one possibly grow? This time, the

demands weren’t to do with opposition to my working class status

but, more to do with caring about the people it was necessary to

challenge.

On my return to the fold, even in a transitional state of charismatic

fervour, I was far less inclined to “preach at” non-believers; the

most important thing was that they should realize that I was there

for them. For some time, strangers would turn up at my doorstep

or, I would be granted an insight into someone’s need to be

befriended.

It took so long for the realization to grow that, the most important

thing was quite simply to be there. Although full of doubts and

questions, regarding the Christian faith, the symbols of the faith

have well and truly grasped me. I am acceptable, tetchy human

that I may be.

FAITH Matters

This posting was first published on my 'Mal's Murmurings' blog in January 2007

Faith Matters

FAITH is that set of values, and ultimate questions, by which we lead our lives. Questions and doubts are an integral component of faith, if we are not to become stuck in a rut of blind belief. I have been grasped by certain concepts and values of community and compassion, and much of the reported teachings of Jesus (acclaimed by many as the Christ), throughout my life, both those in which I have been unwittingly indoctrinated and, those which I have arrived at or returned to through a prolonged period of questioning.

It has always seemed a major mystery that some people seem to "need a faith", some "seek a faith" by which to measure their life’s course whilst others are quite simply "grasped" by an ultimate concern which they have neither sought nor been aware of a need for.

In my personal journey, I have at times embraced (or been embraced) by each of these modes yet, a deep rooted scepticism has proffered me a deep rooted intellectual and emotional resistance to making room for such a faith. That same stubborn resistance also occurs when anyone attempts to fob me off with multifarious scientific hypotheses disguising them as facts. I suppose I’m slightly averse to ‘fundamentalisms’ be they secular or religious.

Perhaps, with my low level reserves of physical and emotional stamina, I do not pro-actively fight for my beliefs as much as I should, but the mystery of LOVE (almost) always compels me to accept a transcendent reality.

I am "grasped" by the person and work of Jesus the Christ yet, am unable to accept much of the dogmatic doctrinal baggage with which he has been encumbered. Some emphasize his humanity, others his divinity, fully God and fully man proves a bit of a conundrum yet, in this myth of the Christ  many, including myself, have found the strength to challenge the social and economic injustices of our day.

In spite of my deeply rooted sceptical nature, it is far easier to accept the existence of God (all the flawed ontological/ teleological arguments for His/Her/Its existence notwithstanding) than it is to understand how it is possible that so much bigotry, intolerance and, upholding of the status quo can possibly be carried out in the name of Jesus Christ. It’s as if the ideological baggage of state blessed Christendom has blinded us to the truly radical nature of the Christ.

Easter Greetings

EASTER DAY

 

Colour comes back into life – overwhelms the morbid grey – despite their defeat with the death of their leader, it wasn’t long before the disciples were enabled to boldly proclaim the good news – something miraculous had occurred, these frightened and despairing social misfits were transformed – that’s the experience of RESURRECTION!

Easter Greetings

Easter Day

Journeying On

The rather more upbeat days continued through to Tuesday of this week; I was even able to visit ‘Open Church’ on two successive days, Monday and Tuesday, for coffee and conversation. Admittedly, sundry medications still have their role to play as part of a general coping mechanism but, it really is great to feel rather more comfortable within my corporeal frame. At the conclusion of Tuesday’s visit I welcomed the prayers of Roy and Jacqueline that I may discern a readiness / preparedness for healing. As one who constantly strives to rationalize their faith, I have difficulty in accepting that simple spiritual gift.

Wednesday saw something of a setback in terms of muscular and joint pain but, more disconcertingly, painful intestinal grumblings (and hyper-activity) put paid to any notion of venturing beyond the confines of the house. Fortunately, recent positive activities have served to keep any acute sense of frustration at bay. By Thursday afternoon I was able to cautiously venture out to Café Culture and, I visited the café once again on Friday in the company of ma belle and Beth.

This evening I’ve prepared a casserole in readiness for Sunday dinner, a spiced chicken, mushroom and peppers casserole; even though I’ve had a healthy sufficiency of food during the day, this dish has certainly tantalized the tastebuds.

an Easter Declaration

Easter Greetings

The Faith of Meteorologists

If only I had the faith of a meteorologist, I could move mountains; that's what I call blind faith.

Forecast heavy snowfall fails to materialize, predicted intensification of sub zero temperatures result in our first recent experience of temperatures at or above zero centigrade.

It comes as something of a surprise that they continue to present us with their forecasts, undaunted by their apparent inaccuracies.

This certainly is faith in the purest sense, bearing little relation to their falsified beliefs.

Testing the tiger: Reflecting on military chaplaincy – article on Ekklesia

Testing the tiger: Reflecting on military chaplaincy

“Caesar, the state, the organisation, the institution, is symbolically the holder of power in any community or the defender of the status quo. The military operates at one extreme end of that continuum of power where their job is to apply the maximum amount of force on the enemy. Anything else, marching bands, flood relief and I daresay, peacekeeping, is a distraction for when there is no enemy.

A clergy person’s calling is different; to sit at the opposite end of that continuum of violence, where vulnerability, woundedness and the beauty of brokenness are valued. Our hero is grounded in his tradition but counter-cultural, questioning institutional violence with the ultimate challenge of non-violent vulnerability.”

- Sande Ramage

A wonderful sense of irony pervades this article; what else could we expect?

“On the day I closed my study door and walked away from the military, I smiled as I noticed again one of the many posters saying "no to inter-personal violence", which plaster the public noticeboards around Linton Camp.”

- Sande Ramage

Testing the tiger: Reflecting on military chaplaincy

A Christmas Message

I just sit and look across the room, my beloved lost in thought, a slightly perplexed smile on her face as she ponders the words she’s typing. I smile to myself, a token of admiration coupled with adoration. Sometimes, I lose track of time as I simply contemplate ma belle’s visage; I enter a wonderful world of devotion and love. It seems strange that no matter how much in love I am, it continues to grow.

We’ve gradually completed the Christmas decorations and enter into the magic of the season. Most importantly, for all the gewgaws with which we surround ourselves, we remember that our real celebration is of a helpless child born to a teenage mum in an occupied state in the Middle East. Research suggests that this child Jesus would most probably have been born around April but, I rather like the way Christianity has assimilated this pagan feast time to celebrate the birth of the Christ child. Those who choose to follow the way of the Christ child should not seek to separate themselves from the world but always be there alongside those they can assist in a far from perfect world. Christians are to be “in the world but not of the world”; it’s never enough to accept the world as it is but, rather, we have a duty to transform it.

Just as our Christmas lights and decorations transform the darkest time of the year; Jesus message was to turn the accepted values of the ruling elite on their head. Sadly, just like we put away the lights before twelfth night so, through the centuries, have some of the ruling elites served to restore the injustices which Jesus challenged, in the name of Christendom!

May the message of Peace On Earth and Goodwill To All Men be taken seriously in this twenty first century of the common era.

Just as my contemplation of my beloved gives me such a warm glow, so does the true meaning of Christmas.

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This post first appeared on 22 December 2006

Thought For The Moment

 

“I wish the church knew that having questions, experiencing doubts and being uncertain about things that the church is teaching does not necessarily equal spiritual immaturity.”

 

http://gracerules.wordpress.com/2008/09/16/what-i-wish-the-church-knew-about-spiritual-maturity/

 

On stumbling across this post my first thought was that those who have no doubts or questions may well be the spiritually immature. Perhaps they mistake their own spiritual ego with the divine spark itself! 

 

The Syro-Phoenician Woman

Having just read a most enlightening posting about The Samaritan Woman on KHANYA blog, I was in some way reminded of this Bible Study on our HelMals website.



Mark 7 vv.24-30 The Syro-Phoenician Woman

Before I returned to this passage, it was already obvious (to me) that the passage was about ‘inclusiveness’ …… a) A Gentile b) A Woman, neither of which were qualities to be valued within the Jewish orthodoxies of the time, dares to approach this itinerant Jewish preacher. I had not
foreseen / remembered the dynamite of this encounter!

Jesus responds to this woman’s plea, by offering a rather offhand Jewish comment about Gentiles being dogs and, implying His duty was to feed the children … the chosen ones. The woman dares a riposte … “even dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the children’s table”.

Jesus listens to the woman, sees her need, acknowledges the truth of her response. Her faith was to express her need. Jesus didn’t approach her as a lost soul; He listens to her need, already expressed by seeking Jesus out, the depth of her need / faith being re-affirmed by her riposte. This woman, an outsider from the church, expresses her faith in a very direct manner. She approaches Jesus out of concern for her child.

Sometimes we may have to question what we think the Lord is calling us to do. Jesus turns the other cheek …. He doesn’t turn around and say “you’ve challenged the word of the Lord” and give up on her as a lost cause, rather, He acknowledges her honest need and acts upon it. Her challenge, her act of faith results in the healing of her daughter.

Because we as Christians “know” what people need, we can so easily fail to listen, especially if what they have to say challenges our
preconceptions. Jesus didn’t see the challenge as an avoidance of
commitment; in her challenge he saw her faith.

A person’s race, religion, sexuality, social status, are unimportant; their needs are important! Perhaps one day the wrong kind of person will be the one who removes the beam from our own eye.

Malcolm Evison

A Matter of Chance?

No matter how much we may think we freely choose the time and place for our actions, there are times when a specific action (in terms of time and place) quite simply had to be. Yesterday was a case in point.

Regular readers of my blog will realize that so often my decision to go out, perform a certain activity etc, is determined as much by the vagaries of my resource of physical and emotional stamina as it is by my will to do so. Yesterday afternoon I had determined on a certain goal but, a choice had to be made as to whether ma belle and I would walk there (a venue slightly further than my usual brief brisk walking range) or go in the car.

The day being beautifully sunny, and noticing the pond had survived the winter with an absolute surplus of oxygenating weed, I was almost distracted sufficiently to abandon the aforementioned goal, tidying up the pond instead. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, I decided it would be better to walk to the pre-planned venue rather than do any work on the pond. It was definitely decided that we should walk, rather than use automotive power for this little errand.

A couple of hundred yards down the road, a voice called out “Malcolm, Malcolm”. We turned around and, at first I didn’t recognize the lady who was calling out. As we chatted, she told us of her worries and anxieties and that she’d lost two stone in weight through the stress of recent events. She seemed close to tears as we chatted and asked if we would like to call around to her place for a coffee and a chat.

Having performed our little errand, we called in on our way back home and sat and chatted for a couple of hours. Although it was quite an exhausting experience, well past my usual socializing limit, it was also most rewarding. By the time we left it was really great to see her smiling. The problems she’s been facing seem some way from resolution but, at least the problems have been shared.

The timing and direction of our little venture seems almost to have been pre-ordained. Yes, I had to make the choice to venture out but, I had no idea that the exercise would prove so fruitful.

Easter Day

By malcolme at 2008-03-22

Ride on, ride on ...

The demonstrations in Tibet, and neighbouring provinces, being met with brutal suppression strike a particular chord this Palm Sunday. Amongst the people dwelling in Palestine there was much unrest, which in its turn was met with brutal suppression by the Roman occupying power and its Herodian quislings.

Into this political ferment Jesus and his followers, a number of whom were Galileans (not the most respected region to hail from), arrived in Jerusalem. Amongst the crowds that welcomed him there were, most probably, those with an urgent desire for social change. Although many of the ideas he had preached were quite simply an extension of those already being disseminated by sections of the religious community, his teaching was expressed with an urgency that commanded attention. A new kingdom, one which turned the values of the ruling elite on their head, was imminent, choices had to be made! Not for Jesus the full regal panoply of the present rulers; in a way the entry into Jerusalem on a humble ass could be seen as cocking a snook at the prevailing powers.

The reasons for the welcome he received can be linked with a variety of expectations, both political and religious. But could this enthusiasm last, was this movement for change an unstoppable force? In a society riddled with informers and agent provocateurs, fear was soon to overtake these ‘supporters’, indeed before long many of his closest followers were in fear for their lives, even to the point of denying that they ever knew him. Jesus was soon to ask his heavenly father to take the cup of suffering away but, this moment of doubt notwithstanding, his conscience wouldn’t permit him to recant, the die was cast. This was his chosen path. To the authorities he was a nuisance, an agitator, a traitor and, as such, he must suffer the most humiliating and degrading death by crucifixion.

To be continued ….

WAITING

So much time is spent waiting, even when we’re too busy to recognize it, yet no-one seems to think it worthwhile to educate us in the use of this time. We send a message to someone and wait, in anticipation or even trepidation, for a reply. We have a job to do but, invariably, there is some preparation required before we are able to get down to the task in hand. Frequently however, these moments are spent hyping ourselves up in readiness rather than using it as a time for taking stock; we have to be busy. Perhaps we are afraid that we might not like what we see or feel if we take time out for ourselves.

A time of waiting must never be confused with idleness. Waiting is always active. Once in a while it could prove useful if we took the time to consider what we’re doing, what implication it has for others, is it really what I should be doing? Rather than dashing out to do God’s will, listening and waiting is required to grasp what that purpose may be. It is never necessary to do just for the sake of doing, what is more important is doing what should be done, what needs to be done.

As Christians we are called to be doers of the Word but, how can we be doers if we never take time to consider the implications of that word for ourselves and others. For me, Jesus is the Word made Flesh, yet he spent 90% of his life waiting to discover what his mission was. Even during his ministry, he had recourse to times of solitude, a time for reflection and restoration. These quiet times are as much of an activity as the practise/action that springs from them; during the time of the temptations, the lure of wealth and the accepted routes to power, he was called on to make a decision and, his decision was not to accept the frequently tried, and always found wanting, methods of leadership.

The times of reflection, of waiting, were essential for him to formulate the ideas upon which he would act and, the results he came up with are of far more enduring value than if he had unthinkingly accepted the normal pattern.

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What prompted these random reflections was a sense of frustration I was experiencing, waiting for one coat of paint to dry, before I could get on with the final coat. For all my familiar lack of energy, an impatience to get on with the task in hand made it impossible to settle down to any other ‘activity’.

The thought suddenly occurred that I could use this time to take stock, sparked by the realization that my health-imposed idleness was of a distinctly different character to this period of waiting.

For all my recent inactivity, I am instinctively a ‘doer’ and, this conflict causes so much dis-ease. Perhaps some of the vast tracts of idleness could be transformed into periods of active waiting, a time to discover just what and how much I may have to contribute, (without exerting too much pressure on my limited resources of physical stamina).