On Those Who Stand In The Way

16^th December 2012

On Those Who Stand In The Way

They were the brave,

they were the few

who held up the skies

in fast and frail craft

while evil carved across Europe.

Falling, falling, the survivors now,

but always remembered.

They were the brave,

they were the few

who spoke up for victims and

sheltered and saved them

from hate’s discriminating atrocity.

Falling, falling, the survivors now,

but always remembered.

They are the brave,

they are the few

who stand in harm’s way

to shelter and save the innocent

from abuse and pain and brutality.

Fallen, fallen, the heroes now,

but always remembered.

In liberty’s chaos and freedom’s choices,

who are the brave, who are the few?

Are we not all the many,

to speak up for justice

voices for goodness in a bedlam of shouting?

Rise, rise, be heroes now

and always remembered.

Advent Reflection

13^th December 2012

Advent Reflection

The purpose is not the stress

of the ever more demanding holiday,

but the straining,

the straining of the sense

of waiting, watching, expecting:

all the senses alerted

and put on notice,

looking out,

staring into night for the first glimpse of dawn.

So,

like a man sucking at a dry pipe

before it is filled and lit and savoured,

I am waiting and preparing,

taking steps to be ready

yearning with longing for the eternal,

a hallowed nostalgia

for the already here but partially recognized,

familiar in the handed down knowledge of mystery.

I’m staring into night for the first glimpse of dawn.

All in the mind

It's all in the mind is a phrase I've seen used a lot recently, on subjects as different as:

how to play the Indian spinners (Geoffrey Boycott, who knows)
how to be responsible about sex and guarding against abuse
how to be a young, inexperienced driver (though hormones play a part too)

Some critics of Christian faith also suggest that it's all in the mind.

Time to emphasise St Paul's words to the Roman Christians:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.

St Paul, who is often subjected to vitriolic abuse himself, wrongly, has it right: living a good, acceptable and perfect way of life does depend on the grace of God which comes through renewal. Freedom comes through submission to Jesus Christ.

Remembrance

5^th November 2012

Remembrance

In hundreds, thousands and millions they died,

and some unknown in the lonely loss

of a blast-dissected body,

all alone, unrecognizable,

or drowning in the toxins of gas,

or the ice-grip of a monstrous sea,

but all remembered.

Some were burnt and fell to earth but rose up high.

Some, tortured and warped, dying by inches for us

(or our enemies).

Some live to forgive and some can not,

and there are minds and hearts so gripped by trauma

that they do not know where to go.

And the families, the families! I cannot comprehend their injuries.

But I will remember them all, and pray for

the hurt and the harmed

and the heroes and the cowards

and all the dismembered of the wars,

And still remember that I was made because of war.

Hair raising Fund Raising Stunt

Yesterday I had my hair and beard dyed in the Romanian National colours, Blue, Yellow and Red.

I emerged from Riley's Hairdresser in Barnard Castle multi-coloured, and braced for what others see and what I will not be able to except in a mirror or a photo. I plan to stay this way till Christmas, and to raise at least £500 for J.A.R.S., a charity in Romania which I serve as a Trustee. So grateful thanks to those who have already given so generously. 

The work of J.A.R.S. in Romania is among all sorts of people, but specially at the moment among Roma (Gypsies), proclaiming the love of God in Jesus Christ by both word and action. Your gift will make a difference and enable love to help poverty.
This link will give you further details. I am thrilled to say that I am already 66% of the way to my target, which I hope to exceed considerably.

https://my.give.net/davidgrievejars

Watch this space for updates!

Stoptober

In one of those strange flights of lateral thought (if such a thing is possible), I found myself musing on the latest mangling of the English language, Stoptober, and what it represents, a no doubt admirable service aimed at helping people to give up smoking if that's what they wish to do.

My immediate reaction was to plan a counter strategy, that is to smoke a cigar every day in October. I won't degrade the activity with a name such as Stogietober, so please forget that you just read it, if you have. But it is something that I shall simply have to get on with.

Meanwhile, I thought, there must be something that I can give up, and it dawned on me. I shall cease from, desist from, refrain from, quit and stop the foul, unhealthy practise of trying to read the entire edition of Private Eye in bed in one go on alternate Wednesday nights. No more dragging on Strobes or HP Sauce through to Yobettes till the whole organ is empty.

Oh! The new health that I shall enjoy! Or I shall be able to listen to the Shipping Forecast, or Church Bells at Bedtime. Or read another chapter of Who Murdered Chaucer?

I am not so self-righteous, I hope, to pretend that it will be easy.

But, from now on, Private Eye will be kept Firmly Down Stairs.

Think of me in my struggle.

No Added Sugar

Tonight, gentle reader, was the new season's first rehearsal of 'No Added Sugar', a choir of now mainly adult voices and mine (the students of Teesdale School in Barmy Castille no longer being paid for by David 'We're All in the Choir Together' Cameron). We met, as arranged and booked in the Scarth Hall, Staindrop, at 7pm, for our 90 minute rehearsal, bright eyed, bushy tailed and in superb voice, only to find that we were to be booted out at 7.30 by something called the Zumba Class which, village Politics decreed, has always met then and there and it Could Not Be Altered.

So (if you are still reading this, ignore it if you aren't) our wonderfully multi-talented Choir Mistress Jane Ford taught us to sing  a rousing Nowell in a Beer Garden sort of song, and we then repaired to the Wheatsheaf to carry out further research and practice, with different words coming to mind.

Back at the Scarf 'All, the She Canon had entered the premises with that bemused expression which she wears when she thinks she is in the wrong place on the right day, or the right place on the wrong day, and was gently diverted by Ms Ford to the Upper Room where Deanery Synod in all its Glory was convening. Crisis alerted.

Note the name, (chosen from the back of a cereal packet): No Added Sugar. We have sung with Inter Opera, we have sung with Concordia, we have had many gigs, we sing a variety of music from Madrigals, to Baroque, Sacred, Popular, You Name It. We have bookings with the Staindrop Fifties and Sixties and at the Bowes Museum, and our diary is full for the next six months. When we are famous - we are already infamous - remember that you saw it here first.