Saturday, 10 March 2018

Vision upon Vision by George Guiver




The blurb on the back refers to this as a “magisterial book” - and I guess it is, the trouble is that also means that for those with anything more that a passing interest in liturgy and worship the ground it covers is pretty familiar. I found myself often going “yes, exactly” and very rarely, if at all, “I never thought of that”.

In the consideration of the changes in worship that went along side the Reformation and the Enlightenment Guiver regrets the general reduction of the liturgy to the words alone. The lost of the involvement of the whole body. Even today we see this, but it can be overlooked by worship leaders as the clergy (and servers) are at the heart of action – meanwhile the laity are sat looking on from a distance resulting in “much of the detail can be lost to them, there is much less immediacy, and the experience easily becomes simply boring. Even what little corporality survives today in now coming under assault of laziness – the people catch it from the clergy. Often a congregation simply sit through most of the service. That kind of sitting shows a lack of confidence in taking active part – it expresses sitting back, non-involvement of the body…”

This is a theme I have reflected on before and entirely agree with.

Guiver also, to my mind, correctly notes that “Creative worship often runs into problems... The paradoxical result is limited creativity or a lack of edge… we are then left with a repetitive falling-back on common gambits – candles, stones, projecting pictures” and, I would add writing our sins on post-it notes – something I have been refusing to do for the best part of a decade .

Thinking about the faith that worship is responding to, Guiver provides the neat quote that “Anything that can be reduced to static formulas and a fixed system was not true tradition but a caricature of it”

While I also liked his phrase that “The faith once delivered to the saints and preserved in the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church, is called to go forward balanced forever wobblingly on the narrow line of trust.”
So now at Church I quietly amend the Creed, so it begins “We believe, wobblingly, in one God, the Father, the Almighty...”

And on the importance of worship – he suggests that if there is any point at all (and for many that is a big “if”) then it is of the highest importance – as he puts it “If we need motivation for throwing all our efforts into creating a vibrant, dedicated and praying Church, we need only keep society’s problems before our eyes. For society to change, it needs a vibrant and thriving Church in its midst”

While, he also notes that “If worship is in these ways to be compared with art, then as in the arts nothing but the best will do. It might seem obvious to say that worship should always be of the best, but we have habits, which we even sometimes justify, of offering less.”

The points that he makes might not be particularly original – but he does make them well.

You’re Welcome to Ulster by Menna Gallie



Reading this almost 50 years after it publication this novel writing of, then, contemporary events is so soaked in its time that it now for us, in effect, historical fiction. And reading it, there is a sorrow knowing how long the road to peace would be, and perhaps even now how fragile that peace remains.

While there are strong political themes within the novel, which I will explore, its success comes from the quality of the story telling – characters with authenticity engage you in the drama.

Written at the beginning of the so called “Troubles” it explores the ways that individual identities are shaped and informed by the community of identity around them. In Northern Ireland a sharp division placing you on one side or the other.

But there are also gender identities at play – Sarah on learning of a potentially terminal illness has come to Northern Ireland to revisit her friends but more importantly a lover – even if she survives her breast cancer she feels the treatment will take away something of her womanhood and so she needs to connect and be affirmed sexually.

And the young men being sucked into the conflict – it is as much a defence of their manhood as it is any social or political cause they are fighting for.

To bring Sarah from Wales into this provides the useful device of an outsider to whom things need to be explained – but there is also a significance to her coming from Wales, a nation marginalised in the British project of identity building. The struggle for cultural and political identity might have common features from place to place, but it is also fundamentally distinct.

And what is Sarah’s relationship with Welsh Nationalism? in a word reluctant.

At one point she reflects that:
“We don’t have the makings of tyrants here; our enemies are so piddling, a waste of reformist energy which ought to be better applied; Welsh nationalism, for example, seems to me to be about letting English cities use our water supplies and about having telephone instructions in Welsh. ‘The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure.’ Patriots and tyrants, Caroline, not motorcar-licence application forms in Welsh and adolescents wanting to run the universities. No, we don’t have the makings here in Britain, thank God.”

And at another point “She cringed to think of a possible repetition of similar horrors in Wales, sprouting from an unholy alliance between the implacable and the inept.”

It put me in mind of Ned Thomas’ The Welsh Extremist. (Which I read while at University, having stumbled across it in the basement of the University library and being the first person to take it out the library is the best part of 2 decades. I have ordered a copy online to re-read it). Ned Thomas is also thankful that violence has never really been part of the modern Welsh story but it raises a question about why the Welsh, generally, are not politically impassioned by their identity.

This is an ongoing question, see in the relative standing of the SNP and Plaid Cymru – but that also point to a large part of the answer – the Welsh Language as a point of division between Welsh people, so Plaid seen as the Party of the Language is not trusted by many English speakers within Wales.

Sarah meets a Welsh Nationalist who is on the run after planting a bomb, which it turns out never went off. I am not sure how deliberate a metaphor for the wider Welsh Nationalist project this bomb that fails to go off is meant to be – but intentional or not, it can be seen as one.

Sarah chides this boy Nationalist - “...I do so believe that nationalism is fundamentally selfish. It’s greedy. It cares about us, the in-group. Why are you in the wrong fight, boy? Just imagine being black or Vietnamese for a change, unless the burden is too great for you. Don’t you think Welsh Nationalism is a luxury when there are bigger battles to be fought”

Which perhaps brings us to Michael Sheen’s Raymond Williams Memorial Lecture https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbVdA7zS8dE it is a powerful exploration of, among other things, the deep seated lack of self-belief within Wales, with the internalising of the Encyclopedia Britannica’s entry for Wales - “for Wales see England” - there is a lack of fight because so many believe they have nothing distinctive to fight for.

There are places where suffering and inequality are stripping people of life itself and not just identity, and compared to those it is easy to characterise Welsh Nationalism as a luxury – but it doesn’t need to be a zone sum game – there may be bigger battles to be fought, but that does not prevent the smaller battles being fought as well.

Creating a society that respects peoples self-identity, a state that allows people to communicate with it on their own terms rather than only its terms – these are not principles that should not be narrowly applied but ones that create openness.

The Long Dry by Cynan Jones



Having read Cynan Jones’ powerfully brilliant Cove last year I have brought his other works.

The Long Dry was his first novel, and the same lightness of touch is present here as in the Cove, an economy of writing – in just 100 pages he creates a world complete in itself – with all the intensity of human emotions and human relationships in the context of the struggles of ordinary life.

The narrative voice switches between husband and wife – balancing them skilfully and pointing to how much goes unsaid between them – and occasionally it even finds it way to be the voice of the Cow – which adds a softness, not quiet humour, as moment of relief from what is at times a fairly bleak tale.

The relationship with “the land” - the extent of rootedness in it is a key theme – a tough relationship on a small farm – but compared with the rootlessness that so many now feel an attractive bondage perhaps?

A Child is Born by Abby Guinness



This is a 31 day set of reflections for “Advent” - although some might want to characterise it as extended reflections on the Christmas – as for example Gabriel announces Jesus’ birth to the Shepherds on day15, while Anna and Simeon “Candlemas” encounter with Jesus is dealt with on days 26 and 27. As it happened I was somewhat behind schedule with this particular Advent book, and therefore these days tied in well to the liturgical calendar.

What I liked about this book was that as part of the reflection, on most days, after the Bible reading you had “From Joseph’s perspective” or “From Gabriel’s perspective” and so on – an imaginative piece about what that particular character was thinking or feeling about the familiar events of the reading. This was a good way of bringing you afresh to some of these passages that we know so well we risk failing to engage with them.