february-march 2024 books…

Religion For Atheists (Alain de Botton): This might seem a rather strange additional book to help me in my Lenten reflections, but it was actually referred to in 2012 by Rowan Williams in one his Easter sermons during his time as Archbishop of Canterbury. I’d previously read a couple of de Botton’s books and he’s clearly a clever bloke and an excellent writer and this book didn’t disappoint. Don’t get me wrong – I certainly don’t consider myself to be an atheist (more of a struggle Christian-cum-occasional-agnostic!?). But, in fact, I found the book far more thought-provoking and helpful than a lot of previous books I’ve used during Lents over recent years. He starts by pointing out that secular society has been “unfairly impoverished by the loss of an array and practices associated with various religions”, such as: music, buildings, prayers, rituals, feasts, shrines, pilgrimages, communal meals and illuminated manuscripts of the faiths – primarily, for the purposes of the book, Christianity, Judaism and Buddhism. I found it quite a stimulating, thought-provoking read (even the Church Times apparently found it “surprisingly illuminating”!).
Antarctica (Claire Keegan): These days, I’m a glutton for Keegan’s short stories. Quiet, unfolding, hauntingly beautiful tales (first published in 1999) set in Ireland, USA or Britain. The subject matters vary and don’t always make comfortable reading - murders, betrayals, orphaned children, madness, suicides are just some of the themes in between… with offbeat characters, convincing dialogue, rituals, secrets, seasons and a strong sense of place. I’ve bought a number of her books over recent weeks/months and this (her first collection of short stories) and this is the last one from my bedside table. I’m going to miss my regular Keegan reading sessions… and think I might need to keep dipping into to some of them on a regular basis.
Before The Coffee Gets Cold (Toshikazu Kawaguchi): I’ve read a number of Japanese novels over the past couple of years and they’ve all had a certain ‘quirkiness’. This one was no exception. In a small back alley in Tokyo, there is a cafe which has been serving carefully brewed coffee for more than one hundred years. But this coffee shop offers its customers a unique experience: the chance to travel back in time. We meet four visitors, each of whom is hoping to make use of the cafe's time-travelling offer, in order to: confront the man who left them, receive a letter from their husband whose memory has been taken by early onset Alzheimer's, see their sister one last time, and meet the daughter they never got the chance to know. But the journey into the past does not come without risks: customers must sit in a particular seat, they cannot leave the cafe, and finally, they must return to the present before the coffee gets cold… It’s a rather beautiful, moving story and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it.
Their Eyes Were Watching God (Zora Neale Hurston): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup book (first published in 1937). Zadie Smith has described it as “one of the very greatest American novels of the twentieth century”. My book’s cover summarises the story pretty well: “When, at 16, Janie is caught kissing shiftless Johnny Taylor, her grandmother swiftly marries her off to an old man with 60 acres. Janie endures two stifling marriages before she finally meets the man of her dreams – who offers not diamonds, but a packet of flowering seeds”. It’s an impressive book, written by a remarkable writer who was born in Alabama at the end of c19th. I found the African-American Vernacular English dialect hard to read (I’m glad I persevered!), but it’s an impressive, powerful, feminist book about a young black girl finding her way into womanhood in the rural, black South. I enjoyed it.
Somewhere Towards The End (Diana Athill): I really like Athill’s writing. I think this is the fifth book of hers I’ve read (first published in 2008, she died in 2019, aged 101) and this one is ‘what it says on the tin’, as it were – a reflection, written in old age, of things she’s experienced through her lifetime. I like her wisdom, fearlessness and her humour… the same sort of feeling I get from reading Jan Morris’s books, for example. I found it a wonderfully optimistic book – marvelling, as she does, at the fact that she only became a writer in her 70s – covering a wide range of topics, including: love; sex; never having been a mother; not giving up driving (despite realising she should); religion (she had no faith); the prospect of death; discovering new enjoyments/skills in old age; non-fiction books; climate change; laziness; oversights… and much more. Rather lovely. 

continuing faith journeying…

This will be something of a rambling blogpost (understatement!)… some reflections, frustrations and acknowledgements.
Having faith. Obviously, the key is in the word ‘faith’. The trouble is I’m lacking it and I’m struggling in something of a continuing spiritual wilderness.
In theory, I remain part of the Community of Saint Stephens in the heart of the city but I’m struggling faith-wise (which has been the case now for several years). So much so that, for the past 18 months or so, I’ve taken a ‘sabbatical’ from attending church services (apart from attending the Midnight Mass at Saint Stephen’s on Christmas Eve). How long this will continue, only time will tell (indefinitely perhaps?).
In the meantime, I’m still trying to find a way of reflecting on the spiritual stuff in my life (albeit far from convincingly!). I continue to go along to our weekly 7.30am café gatherings for Blokes’ Prayer - which has effectively become my ‘church’.
What DO I believe these days?
I was confirmed in the Anglican Church over 50 years ago. I’ve been a Christian ever since but throughout this time, like so many people, my own spiritual journey has been a long and winding road - often fruitful and compelling, but frequently bumpy or feeling as if I’m in a cul-de-sac. At present, I feel as if I’ve come to yet another crossroad on the journey.
 
I still have a faith of sorts… I still believe in God (but maybe ‘my’ God is different to other people’s understanding of the word?). I believe that Jesus did live and was crucified (but I struggle with the virgin birth and even the resurrection)(I know!). I believe that the New Testament stories in the Bible are essentially true (or in part happened?), but I get very frustrated by many of the interpretations (and added details) that have accrued between when the events took place and when they were eventually written down (the same applies to the ‘actual’ words used by Jesus and his disciples etc… and, for instance, exactly what Jesus was thinking when he was in the Garden of Gethsemane or during his 40 days in the wilderness).
Because of these frustrations, I’ve almost stopped reading the Bible (for instance, a lot of Paul’s New Testament letters – or at least some of the interpretations I’ve heard given them in various sermons I’ve listened to – just make me angry!). To take just one example, I followed one of ‘our’ church services online (about a year ago). The Bible text included the following: “For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either” and “Now if there is no resurrection, what will those do who are baptized for the dead? If the dead are not raised at all, why are people baptized for them?” - and this message was duly endorsed/repeated in the morning’s talk/sermon. It left me shouting at my laptop screen!
These days (perhaps unfairly, I know), I find other people’s enthusiastic ‘certainties’ when it comes to faith incredibly off-putting (it leaves me feeling both annoyed and exasperated). I don’t believe in an ‘afterlife’ but, somehow, feel that we need to build a ‘heaven’ here on earth (ok, that probably sounds a bit ridiculous to most of you). I can’t really justify or rationalise this, but I do have a sense that our spirits ‘live on’ (again, you’ll probably think I’ve lost my marbles).      
It’s interesting (well, for me at least!) to read some of my blogpost ‘spiritual reflections’ on faith over the years – some dating back 15 years (although my ‘doubts’ go back much further than that).
I’ve been struggling for a long, long time!
I posted the following on my blog in February 2022:
So, on this basis, can I REALLY call myself a Christian? Well, no doubt there will be many who would answer “no” but, interestingly, the BBC commissioned a survey in 2017 (https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-39153121) and found that a quarter of people who describe themselves as Christians in Great Britain do not believe in the resurrection of Jesus.
The survey also suggested that:
·         17% of all people believe the Bible version word-for-word (not me)
·         31% of Christians believe word-for-word the Bible version (not me), rising to 57% among "active" Christians (those who go to a religious service at least once a month, as I do)(not me)
·         Exactly half of all people surveyed did not believe in the resurrection at all (not me)
·         46% of people say they believe in some form of life after death (not me) and 46% do not (me)
So, I’m not alone.
I appreciate that I could be accused (with some justification) that I ‘cherry-pick’ what I believe in. But what I find really difficult is being ‘told’ by some leaders of our church communities what my faith should consist of – with, apparently, no room for doubt. Effectively, the message seems to be: “this is what the Bible says, so it must be true (or pretty close)… and if you’re not prepared to accept this, then you can’t really call yourself a Christian”. They might not think that’s what they’re regularly telling me, but that’s message that I receive and/or perceive.
Over the course of Lent 2024, I’ve been continuing my faith exploration. I’ve been reading Rowan Williams’s Easter sermons from his time as Archbishop of Canterbury 2002-12 (book: ‘Choose Life’). I regard Williams as someone worth listening to/reading, but even he says things that I find difficult to accept.
He refers to the Acts of the Apostles, where we are told “God raised Jesus to life”… If it did happen, how do we know it was down to God? Williams goes on to refer to the things Peter, John and Mary Magdalene witnessed on Easter morning (which I can accept), but then continues with the words: “When the universe began, prompted by the will and act of God…”. Again, I would ask how do we know this was down to God?
In another of the sermons, Williams refers to Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians where Paul says “that we shall die and that we shall be raised as Jesus was raised”.
Really? Is this based on something that was, some considerable time later, promised in the Bible?
Obviously, it all comes down to faith… but perhaps it’s just a case of “me of little faith”?
The other book I’ve been using this Lent is Alain de Botton’s book ‘Religion for Atheists’. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t consider myself to be an atheist – but Rowan Williams did actually refer to the book in one of his Easter sermons. I duly bought myself a copy and found it surprisingly helpful, optimistic and illuminating. I won’t go into academic detail here, but the chapter headings give a sense of what is discussed: Wisdom without Doctrine; Community; Kindness; Education; Tenderness; Pessimism; Perspective; Art; Architecture and Institutions.
I’m not a mad keen follower of Rob Bell, but I have found his writing incredibly thought-provoking and relevant (for me, at least). Take this passage from his book ‘Velvet Elvis’ (which, in many ways, touches on the things included in Alain de Botton’s book):
As a Christian, I am simply trying to orient myself around living a particular kind of way, the kind of way that Jesus taught is possible. And I think that the way of Jesus is the best possible way to live.
This isn’t irrational or primitive or blind faith. It is merely being honest that we are living a ‘way’.
I’m convinced being generous is a better way to live.
I’m convinced forgiving people and not carrying around bitterness is a better way to live.
I’m convinced having compassion is a better way to live.
I’m convinced pursuing peace in every situation is a better way to live.
I’m convinced listening to the wisdom of others is a better way to live.
I’m convinced being honest with people is a better way to live.
I would say ‘Amen’ to that.
 
I am an early riser. I’m usually up by 5am.
At various times in my life, I might have used this time for prayer and/or reading daily reflections/Bible passages.
I no longer do such things.
I can no longer be bothered.
And yet, since moving house, I now frequently find myself in my ‘Thinking Seat’ staring out of the window at the dawn of a new day.
It’s something of a magical time.
Maybe this is part of the journey to rediscover my faith?
“Caught by the light of some small heaven” (as my good friend Ian has described it) perhaps?
Who knows?… I’ll keep searching.

perfect days…

Moira and I went along to the Watershed yesterday afternoon to see Wim Wenders’s film ‘Perfect Days’. On the face of it, the film’s subject matter is pretty uninspiring (understatement!) – it features the solitary life of a 60-something Tokyo public toilet cleaner, Hirayama (played by the rather wonderful Kōji Yakusho). Every day is the same. He lives in a frugal apartment; he puts on his overalls; he takes a can of coffee from a street vending machine; he drives to work in his modest little van; he works diligently and with a sense of pride; he exchanges words with very few people; most just don’t notice him…
It all seems pretty bleak… and yet the film proved to be entirely the opposite.
Hirayama finds quiet joy in the world around him… in the apparently insignificant things… the sunlight through the trees (and the trees themselves)… taking time to pause and take in the tiny details. His life is full of routine… he regularly takes his lunch breaks in a small landscaped square; after work, Hirayama he often bathes at a public bathhouse; he dines at a casual restaurant in a subway mall where he’s greeted as a regular; he often goes to the budget section of the local second-hand bookshop; he carefully rescues fragile Japanese maple seedlings and nurtures them in his apartment; he has an old point-and-shoot camera with which he captures the things that please him. All small, but important interactions. We all have the ability to look, but how many of us actually see?
Essentially, this achingly lovely film is an argument in favour of an alternative way of being… and I think we could all do with learning such a lesson.
I thought it was a rather wonderful, heart-warming, uplifting film and I think you should see it for yourself.
PS: And, as a bonus, Hirayama chooses to listen to 60s and 70s American and British rock songs (on cassette tapes), driving in his van, from the likes of the Velvet Underground, the Kinks, Otis Redding, Patti Smith, Nina Simone and Lou Reed.
PPS: The rather beautiful public toilets are film stars in their own right!