Why Meester Bond, I've been expecting you...

***Warning - Very limited metaphor approaching - take cover***

Last week I was away on the Good Book Company's Bible Centred Youthworker conference. I go every year, and every year it's excellent. I suppose I could write a review of the whole thing, but that's not what this is about.

We were looking at Romans 8 in quite some detail, including looking at what it means to battle sin throughout our lives. This morning, I got to thinking (I really must stop doing that) about what it means to battle against something when the fight has already been decisively won, and that's when I realised: it's all about James Bond.

What's the one thing you know for certain when you watch any Bond film?

You know that Bond will live (spoiler alert).

In old Bond, the fight scenes included a few well thrown punches and perhaps a little light peril, but that would be soon followed up by a shucking of the cuffs and a throw-away remark. Old Bond breezed into and out of his fights like they were nothing.

If we think of the Christian life and the battle with sin like this, we're going to end up feeling pretty rubbish and under par, perhaps even start to feel like giving up.

I think we're more like new Bond: blonder, bigger, fitter...

Actually no, I think we're like new Bond because when he gets into a fight, it hurts. He ends up battered, bruised and bloodied, hospitalised and on the point of death, even, but he's still Bond, he still survives. The outcome is certain, so the battle is unpleasant for certain, but assured.

We don't battle sin daily in the hope of a particular outcome, but in the certain knowledge of it.

I think sometimes we need to be better at acknowledging the war wounds we get.

But don't forget, Mish Moneypenny, Bond always lives.

Known unknowns?

This post is written less as a response and more as a tangent or corollary to a post from Si of The Alethiophile which you can find in full here. In his post he was explaining and expounding a tweet which had caused a few people, myself included, to raise an eyebrow. It's an interesting, thought-provoking and well-argued piece (we expect little else from our favourite mouse), and it got me thinking; a dangerous business if ever there was one. I'm not planning to tackle exactly the same topic, though I wouldn't be surprised if there ends up being a degree of overlap.

A friend of mine wrote a blog post recently which referred to a Bible class he attended. Rather than summarise it, I shall quote the paragraph wholesale:

"This came up at a monthly bible school I have recently started attending at the church I’ve settled at after having moved house last year. The overall discussion was about the Magi, with a significant portion devoted to whether or not they were Zoroastrians. The point at this stage in the discussion had been about Jewish eschatology and how a good many intelligent people had ideas about how and when the Messiah would come, but what actually happened, even though it fitted up with the Old Testament prophecies, still came rather unexpectedly. Therefore, though we have a wealth of ideas about christian eschatology, ideas of heaven, hell, resurrection and annihilation, it might well turn that we have all got a little bit right most mostly wrong, and that what we expect will be radically confounded."

In the interests of full disclosure, I should say that had I been present I would have found spending a session discussing whether the Magi were Zoroastrians incredibly frustrating: I prefer my Bible classes to feed more directly into the world of exposition, rather than pondering apparent imponderables. That said, it's given rise to some useful thought, so, everyone's a winner!

In my after school group for 11-14s we are working our way through John's gospel, and this week we were in chapter 10. The group are really getting to grips with it, and were baffled that God's historic people couldn't see the Messiah when he was right in front of them. The response that John is calling for in his gospel is for us to not make the same mistake, and to put our faith in Jesus as the Christ, and so have life.

The question I want to ponder in my untrained, ham-fisted fashion is this:

What are the chances that our reading of the Bible is as wrong as the first century Jews' seems to be in the gospel accounts?

To do so, I want to take a brief look at two passages from the New Testament.

From Hebrews 1, I want to spend a moment looking at what the Bible says about how God speaks, and whether that has changed since Old Testament times.*
From Ephesians 2 I want to look at how we listen, and whether that has changed.

God Speaks

The opening words of the letter to the Hebrews tells us that

In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son. (Heb 1.1-2)

God has chosen over the course of salvation history to speak to his people in a variety of ways: burning bushes, overly chatty livestock, prophets, you name it. God would speak to his people typically through a mediator, leader or prophet, who would pass the message on for him as it were.
Those days, according to Hebrews, are gone. That is how God used to speak, but at the incarnation things changed: Jesus revealed the Father, he spoke to us about who he is and how we can be in relationship with him.
The gospel of Jesus - the good news about who he is and why he came - have been committed to paper, under the guidance and overall authorship of the spirit, so that now when we read our Bible, God speaks to us directly. This is an immense blessing and a privilege, and one that is only possible because of the atoning work of Jesus on the cross.

We Listen

In Ephesians Paul tells us that

And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit.

There are so many places in the New Testament I could have gone to, but I'm quite familiar with Ephesians, so I stayed on ground I know.

In the Old Testament, it seems that God sent his Spirit on people at certain times for certain things. The Judges often acted to rescue and defend God's people in a state of temporary-Spirit-filledness. The Spirit was sent on Saul, and later removed again. The prophets looked forward to one on whom the Spirit would come and stay [sorry, no citation - my brain's on a go-slow].
That Spirit-filled leader (spoiler alert) was Jesus. He came, he lived and worked in the power of the Spirit, and when he left, he sent his Spirit on his followers, and that Spirit lives in us, not as a temporary resident who might pop off, but as a seal, guaranteeing our inheritance.

So the same Spirit who oversaw the writing and compiling of the Bible is the same Spirit who lives in us. That does make it sound easier, doesn't it - having the author constantly on hand to help us understand what we read?


Now of course, we are finite and sinful human beings: we misread, misunderstand and misapply the Bible left, right and centre. We cannot fit all the magnificence of the Bible into our tiny hearts and minds (or is this just me?) There are limits to what we can know, and "know" is a sliding scale.

But there is plenty we can know with confidence. We have a God who has given us his Word which is able to make us wise for salvation. We can't know everything, but we can know enough to be right with God. I'm confident that thanks to the Spirit both speaking and helping us to listen, we (those who believe in Jesus) have more than enough to not end up on the outside.


It's worth re-iterating: I have next to no formal Bible training, certainly nothing that comes with a piece of paper to show for it, and I could very well be wrong.
If you have a comment, are able to express these things better or would like to put forward a dissenting view, please do, but play nicely, OK?


*I've been reading Guidance and the Voice of God by Payne & Jensen which has been invaluable with this. There will be a review coming soon here.

2014: A year in books

I set out this year to read 24 particular books in the space of the year. You can see why here.

Here I'm compiling a directory of the reviews so you can see what I've made of them.

January

Grimm Tales by Pullman

Guidance and the Voice of God by Payne and Jensen (coming soon)

Grimm Tales: A book review

I started the year with a challenge to read a particular 24 books this year, and here we come to the first: Grimm Tales for Young and Old by Philip Pullman.

Grimm Tales is an English language retelling of fifty-two folk tales from the Brothers Grimm's nineteenth century collections. It includes tales you will certainly have heard of like Cinderella and Rapunzel, along with some you are less likely to have encountered before (Hans-My-Hedgehog anyone?)

Cards on the table now: I love fairy tales in all their forms. I have read, amongst other things, a translation of the original Grimm folk tales, and have committed a perhaps unwisely great number of hours to pondering them. I was ambushed by this book in the shop, and embarked on reading it ready and willing to be delighted by it.

There is virtually no limit to the number of things that can be done with a fairy tale: there is the Disney approach, leaving the tale in its setting but taking off some of the more gritty edges and making sure of a happy ever after; there is the effect created by a good number of both pantomimes and animated films where the story is left more or less intact "for the children" but anachronistic (or downright smutty) jokes are slung in regularly as a reward for the adults who are suffering through it. There is the "rebooting", to use film parlance, where the tale is uprooted and given a new, edgy, modern setting with bigger explosions, better dialogue and more sex scenes; and then there is the reimagining where the action of the tale becomes an extended metaphor for modern life. This has been done to interesting effect on BBC Radio 4 in the past, including the tale of an unrepentant burglar with a penchant for big houses with nice beds whose nickname was Goldilocks.

This book is none of these. Pullman's stated aim was to distill the tales to be "as clear as water," running freely with nothing to impede the story itself. I would say that this book is a masterclass in how to do that, but as with all masterpieces, these tales do nothing so mundane because they do not show their working: they read as if they dropped out of the ether, complete and finished, needing nothing more than to be committed to paper.

As Pullman himself says in the introduction, each teller tells the tale in their own way, playing to their own strengths, and what Pullman has achieved is that he has, in effect, let the tale find its own voice. Some rip along full of twists and turns that leave the reader quite breathless, others are so scant in their story as to be delicate and fragile. Some are hilarious, others creepy. Each leaves a distinct impression. Unlike their Disneyed siblings, the endings vary: in some the baddies get their comeuppance, often in suitably horrifying ways; in others they seem to get away murder. Expect darkness, death, magical transformations, a multitude of golden-haired princesses and even a little pre-marital action (which for some reason Penguin had excised from the copy of Rapunzel that I read as a child.)

In the odd moments that Pullman's humour or personality pops up (I'm sure I read a reference to weapons of mass destruction somewhere!) it doesn't jar; rather it twinkles at you from the page leaving you with that most special of feelings that the author has spotted you noticing it, and has tipped you the wink; it comes across like a shared moment.

Fairy tales are endlessly fascinating: shaped by generations of story tellers and formed entirely around the question, "then what?" they present a particular way of looking at the world: many seem to come out of a superstitious, pseudo-Catholic world-view, but they are very open to interpretation. Unlike with other works from a single mind, the question, "what did the author intend here?" is meaningless, and doubtless many forests have been felled and many big bad wolves left homeless through the printing of endless words seeking the meaning of these little tales. I shall not attempt to add to that bulk here, but safe to say, these tales are true fairy stories which can be brushed aside or delved into to the degree the reader desires.

Part of the joy of reading is still, for me, the book itself, and Grimm Tales does not disappoint on that front either. The cover art is beautiful, the paper is good quality (I struggle to read books which appear to be printed on yellow loo roll), and the type-setting is is easy on the eyes (a significant consideration to a migraine sufferer). Each tale is followed firstly by a listing of the source and comparable folk tales from other traditions, and then with a short note from Pullman perhaps commenting on the story, explaining changes, or suggesting further adaptations or extensions which could be made.

The notes, sources and bibliography would make this an excellent starting point in the study of folk tales, but more importantly is a book to delight all ages. It has a magical, timeless quality to it, and I know my copy will be reread and thumbed through until it is aged, worn and falling to pieces. For me, there is no higher praise.

Safety first!

I decided it was time to spend my Christmas money on something thrilling, something exciting, something that would improve my quality of life no end.

The package arrived today with this rather ominous warning label attached. I'm naturally risk-averse, and this is more than enough to send me running for the hills.

Clearly I have made a financial decision which will endanger my person, particularly when negotiating the Wirral Line underground. What lethal object had I invested in?

The threatening objects are:
House shoes, made by Crocs.
Yikes!
I'm quaking in my... warm, comfy house shoes...

Happily we haven't had escalators fitted in the house (although...), so I should be safe for the foreseeable future.

This is right up there with the exploding yogurt Asda delivered the other day. That didn't even have a warning label on it.

Reading challenge, 2014

Goodness me, it's been quiet in here, hasn't it?

I've given in and started the new year with something that approaches a resolution: it's a challenge. As a side bar, I feel like putting a sign on my back when I go running which says, "not a new runner!" Oh the shameful pride.

Any who, the challenge I have set myself was inspired by someone I know who read about 45 books in 2013 (he blogs here): my challenge is one to get me reading. I have two very bad reading habits: buying books and then not reading them, and starting books and then not finishing them. The first applies more to Christian books and the second more to novels, but I have my moments.

I'm poor at reading Christian books because, well, I've never been any good at reading things that are there for my benefit: text books, improving Christian works, the Bible... But I buy them because I know I should read them. It can be an expensive habit.

Starting novels and then not finishing them comes mostly out of not being grabbed by a book. If I get into a book I can barely be separated from it until it's done. I think many of the works I've abandoned had nothing wrong with them, I just never finished them. I could say something about not being a completer-finisher at this point, but I don't want to depress myself.

So I've chosen two books for each month of 2014: one Christian, and one not, so that my bookshelves can be a little less guilt-inducing towards the end of the year. It should also do marvels for that post-book anxiety that kicks in when you have to work out what you want to read next (am I the only one who suffers with that?)

So here, in all its glory, is the plan:

January
Grimm Tales by Philip Pullman
An easy start: I was ambushed by this in Waterstones in the run up to Christmas and am half way through it. I love fairy tales for all sorts of reasons, and this is proving a real pleasure. It's a bit of a cheaty way to begin (i.e. half way though!), but it would be a shame to start the year by abandoning yet another book.
Guidance and the Voice of God by Jensen and Payne
I have no idea how long this has sat on my shelves, but my rather aimless approach to life might have something to do with the fact it remains unread.

February
The Ladies of Grace Adieu by Susanna Clarke
Lent to me by a friend last year, this is a collection of short stories that are midway between fairy tales and Jane Austen. Confession time: it's only collected dust since it made it into my house.
Joined Up by Danny Brierley
I don't have high hopes for this book, but youth work theory is often interesting. It's been on my shelf glaring at me for a good ten years now. I'm anticipating being a bit frustrated by some of the ideas, but 1. I could be wrong and 2. even if I'm not, I'm sure I'll learn something if only in opposite terms.

March
Disciplines of a Godly Woman by Barbara Hughes
The fact I have books I've owned for 10 years and not read tells you all you need to know about why I need this book. I'm expecting Americanisms ahoy, but usefulness in bucket loads. Given everything that I have to squeeze into April, this book can't come too soon.
Sea of Poppies by Amitav Ghosh
Ghosh's The Glass Palace was one of my favourite reads of a year or two ago, and was a story that stayed with me. I bought this and keep putting off reading it for reasons I can't fathom. I might be worried it can't live up to its predecessor. There are boats and opium, that's all I know.

April
April is a very busy month in 2014 with Passion for life, Easter, Word Alive and my 5th wedding anniversary (already!), so I've gone for some shorter ones.
True Worship by Vaughan Roberts
It's Vaughan Roberts, what more could I want? Rightly connecting Sunday mornings to the rest of the week is no easier when you work in a church, so I look forward to this.
The Invisible Man by HG Wells
I love a bit of sci-fi, and this is a classic. I got a few chapters in before being distracted by sparkly lights or something.

May
Selected Writings of John Calvin
I know quite a lot about Calvin, but have read very little directly from the man himself. I remember reading bits of this book, but certainly not all of it.
Titus Alone by Mervyn Peake
The BBC's 2000 version of the first two books from the Gormenghast Trilogy was my introduction to Mervyn Peake. I bought this trilogy, read the first two but stumbled over the third: the change of location was troublesome to me (I had the same difficulty with the closing pages of Tess of the D'Urbervilles). I'm hoping to get on better with it this time.

June
The Cross from a Distance by Peter G Bolt
I think I've flicked through this, but never really even tried to read it properly. I love a good Bible overview type book, and I'm hoping to find this in-depth and challenging.
White Teeth by Zadie Smith
I bought a penguin classics compendium for Hubby, and after a while I started on this. It has ingredients I like in a book: multiple plot lines and a reasonably long time frame. I think it's time to give her another go.

July
The Enemy Within by Kris Lundgaard
All about holiness and fighting the battle with sin, I bought this book which draws on works by John Owen, a couple of years ago (come to think of it, make it at least 5 years ago...) I think it's time that the battle with sin got serious. Definitely going to be a highlighter pens job.
The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlum
Love the film, love other books he's written, gave up on this. I think now I better know what to expect (the 1970s, for instance), I'll get on with it a bit better.

August
Think by John Piper

I've often struggled to work out how being brainy goes with Christian faith: not the old science vs God thing, but more the struggle to not over-intellectualise everything, and make sure I'm loving God with my mind, not just examining him. This book is, like so many I own, over-due a read. Hopefully I won't struggle too much with Piper's style.

A Passage to India by EM Forster

Bought and half-read on honeymoon, it's time to finish this classic off.

September

Generous Justice by Tim Keller

I love Keller's writing style, I really would like to be very clear in my mind about how we serve and love the poor and demonstrate God's justice in the world, I have just never got around to picking this up.

Stuart, a Life Backwards by Alexander Masters

The one biography in the list: I'm not a fan of biography in any form, but I bought this after hearing the author interviewed on Radio 4 not long after it was published (2005. Ahem.) As the title suggests, it's a story told backwards, from adult criminal to happy-go-lucky 12 year old. I enjoyed the bit I read all those years ago, and I'm starting to really find these types of lives interesting.

October
Emotions by Graham Beynon
A companion piece to the Piper book above. I've read a lot of this book, but not all of it, and I think reminding myself of the importance and god-given nature of emotions will be a good idea after reading the Piper book over the summer.
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
I read a good deal of this many years ago, and judging by the Clive the Cat bookmark emerging from the top, so has Hubby. I love a good classic, especially a Russian one, and once I've prepared myself for the mass of confusion that is the Russian naming system, it'll be all go.

November
Christian Youth Work by Mark Ashton
By the time November comes around, it'll be over ten years since I started in full time youth work. This is the book everyone says you should read. I've dipped into chapters here and there. Come on, Noodles, stop faffing about and read the thing.
Lustrum by Robert Harris
I know - wrong picture. I read all of Imperium, then half of Lustrum. The problem with Lustrum was that it seemed to come to a conclusion half way through. I put it down at that point and then had no motivation to pick it up again, so November is its day.

December
Counterfeit Gods by Tim Keller
As I've said earlier, I find Keller very easy to read. I'm hoping to get this read in an afternoon or two, perhaps as a tonic against the on-slaught of Christmas shopping.
Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan
I remember reading the children's version when I was young, and I started this when we lived in Camborne, but - big surprise - didn't finish it. Now is the time. I'm classing this as a novel rather than a Christian book because it's so allegorical.

If this goes well, there are other books I can challenge myself with in 2015. Still, one step at a time, eh?