a thousand kisses deep

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For lovers of Leonard Cohen, a “thousand kisses deep” is an amazing poem/song (song is here) measuring the relationship between lovers. What if it was used as a different sort of measure? Our knowledge of one another is superficially assessed within twenty seconds. Apparently – and worryingly – we are only right 70% of the time. 70% may sound first class but for the 30% misjudged, denied jobs, shut out that statistic can be disastrous.

Us clergy, ministers, community developers and planners come and go. Sensibly we audit our place before forming opinions – but the data is skewed by preconceptions and historic artefacts of superficial excavation. What if we went a thousand kisses deep?

Down into the passions, convictions, emotions of successive generation and regeneration we would go. On our cheeks the hot breath of passion and the tears of betrayal. Lips caressing disconsolate children, the embrace of neighbours in the face of disaster, the kiss for a bereaved friend for whom there are no words. Seamly and unseemly: love denied and love made – our findings from a thousand kisses deep. Mining, owning, knowing.

Ricky Yates helpfully reminds us of the great store we set by outward appearance, and our use of image consultants. We remember Hyacinth Bucket (Bouquet) in long-running TV comedy Keeping up Appearances. For her, attraction was but a surface veneer – with relationships barely a peck deep. But, as Ricky says, the Lord doesn’t look on the outside, but on the inside (Mark 7:15) – a thousand kisses deep, at least!

lop-sided truth

 

Channel 4’s drama series, The Promise, proved to be a powerful expose of the human cost of the protracted conflict on Palestinian soil. I was glad of the insight into this tragic (and for me, little understood) history spanning the last hundred years. (How is it so easy to remain ignorant of such significant events?). The story is based on a diary written by Len and held by Erin, his grandaughter. Len is a former British soldier who served both at the liberation of Bergen-Belsen and in Palestine, in the tense months before Israel declared itself a state in 1948 when the occupying British army was subject to a sustained and bloody terrorist campaign by Zionist groups. Besides portraying the cruel hard-heartedness of Jewish people trying to make room for themselves and the violent disruption to the loves and homes of the Palestinian people, the series brilliantly portrayed the plight of the professional soldier and his role at the complicated heart of conflict.

israel_wall
The size of the problem! Photo by Jim Forrest

In my enthusiasm for The Promise, I searched for reviews in the blogosphere – just to validate my enthusiasm. I found a review in the New Statesman, complete with outrageous and outraged comments. Comments include “inaccurate”, “anti-semitic” and “one-sided”. It made me wonder how The Promise (or any account) can be other than one-sided. Anyone who builds a bloody great wall – designed to prevent their neighbour seeing over – is destined to be victim of one-sided accounts of history. In conflict there is no middle ground. There is one side, or the other. There is no dis-passionate observer sitting on the fence with a view of both sides. There can be no balance.

There can, however, be peace process. Prophet (and Jew) Amos, centuries ago (a farmer from Tekoa – another Jewish settlement south of Bethlehem), proposed the “swords into ploughshares” policy – an early disarmament programme. “Swords” represent all the paraphernalia of war – its weaponry, its defences and its propaganda – upsetting the balance of truth and jeopardising peace for generations to come. Conflict creates its own insecurity and reverses common sense  – requisitioning the economic tools for prosperity, to melt them down for the savagery of war. We can, even with our one-sided truth, work for this disarmament. Even me, writing this, has declared my one-sided hand in conflict against those who were outraged by the pro-Palestinian stance of The Promise. But I didn’t see the series as an incendiary device lobbed over a great wall of conflict – but as an exercise to expose what is happening. Truth and plight can only be exposed one-sidedly. It is up to us to make it “sword” or “ploughshare”.

>ubuntu

>Desmond Tutu and the tradition of “ubuntu” reminds us that there is no such thing as a solitary individual. There is no translation of “ubuntu” into our own European language because “individualism” is so embedded in our culture. Bill Clinton describes “ubuntu” as “mystical”, which I take to mean as “elusive”. Ubuntu’s principle is “I am because you are“. “A person is a person through other persons. I need you to be “you” so that I can be “me”. I want “you” to be all you can be because that is the only way I can be all I can be.” If I dehumanise “you”, I will be “myself” dehumanised. What an intriguing insight from African culture. Clinton responds to Desmond Tutu’s insight by saying that “life is too short to waste time winning fleeting victories at other people’s expense, and we now have to find ways to triumph together.”

Yesterday I was called to help out in Christ the King, Birkenhead, and saw firsthand how a congregation is trying to be all that they can be so that the people of that inner city parish can be all that they can be. Yesterday, Shay was baptised. His life depends on those around him being all that they can be. He becomes a person through those other persons. Gornik writes that this sense of community is often forgotten: “It is this common life – how people care for one another, generate new patterns of relationship, and take seriously the call to serve their neighbours – that sets the church part, even more than its buildings, its programmes, its pastor or its preaching. The significance of the common life is often neglected in traditional and even contemporary discussions with the church – which great detriment. When people know they are deeply loved, cared for, accepted, and wanted by a community, they are transformed by the experience.” (To Live in Peace. 2002. p74)

>rigid rules

>Free coiled tape measure healthy living stock photo Creative Commons
It seems that for every crisis we try to create a series of rules to prevent the crisis recurring. Judges, teachers, doctors – all professionals – seem to be ruled by rules. Many are denied the satisfaction of doing the good they would do because the rule book forbids it. 
The problem with rules is that we find ourselves on one side of the rule or the other. Either ruled in or ruled out. It is intensely frustrating to be unjustifiably ruled out. We need to learn a lesson from the tape measure. The tape measure is a rule that fits round things that are real.
Apparently Aristotle was impressed by the improvisation of the craftsmen that he was watching on the island of Lesbos. They were building rounded columns for which rigid rulers were useless. The craftsmen improvised with a ruler that bends – which we call a tape measure.
Aristotle talks a lot about wisdom. For him practical wisdom is the key to happiness. The wise person is like the improvising builders of Lesbos who knows that rules have to be bent and that we all need to deal with others flexibly.

And this is the nature of the equitable, a correction of law where it is defective owing to its universality. … For when the thing is indefinite the rule also is indefinite, like the leaden rule used in making the Lesbian moulding; the rule adapts itself to the shape of the stone and is not rigid, and so too the decree is adapted to the facts. [Aristotle, “Nicomachean Ethics”]

A line in the sandSchwartz and Sharpe have published a book on practical wisdom.They talk about the importance of character and virtue as an alternative response to the crises which we face. They recognise two great sources of hope. The first of those they refer to as “canny outlaws” who have the moral courage to find a way around the rules. The second of those they refer to as “system changers” who have the moral courage to transform the system. (You can hear Barry Schwartz’s talk on this here).
John’s Gospel (7:53-8:11) has the story of the woman caught in adultery. According to the rules she should have been stoned to death. The (foolish) lawyers brought the woman to Jesus for his condemnation. What does he do? He kneels down and draws a rule in the sand. The woman’s accusers no longer know which side of the line they stand – wisdom had blurred their difference. Throughout the story Jesus is on the woman’s side – the side of the accused. He had blown away their rules for the sake of the woman whose proposed punishment – in now way – fitted her “crime”.

>Mary Queen of Shops

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Mary Portas with donated clothes
Mary Portas – Queen of Shops

Did anyone see this programme tonight on channel 4 – about Fonehouse? Very interesting in terms of servant leadership (I’m involved with a group of people looking at this at the moment). Mr H was typical blokey know-it-all franchisee of phone shop, who took some persuading to change his ways. His ways – was to be the expert behind the counter doing the big sell (he thought he was the “best”) telling people what they wanted.

Mary Portas tries to make changes to the tecky blokey phone shops. She introduces comfort and social areas to the shops, has real phones out for people to try and talk to one another about. The salespeople were there “to be of help if there’s anything …” rather than the hard sell. The effect of the change was to empower the shopper, and to change the relationship of the sales staff, so that they were really “serving” – as servant leaders – listening instead of talking.

Did Mary Portas turn the tables?!

In the end Mr H was converted. It’s going to be worth looking at whether other phone shops become person centred, rather than phone centred – and whether the staff really serve us – or themselves and their commission.

You get some idea of the changes here; with owner Clive writing about the changes to the shop at Angel.

lashings from the milk demon

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The Hideous Milk Demon
The Hideous Milk Demon

What do you do when things go wrong – when you get egg all over your face and mis-manage situations? I know what I do – I blame everyone in the search for a scapegoat – except myself. The Hideous Milk Demon (thank you Joseph O’Hughes for the picture) reminds us of the dangers of upset emotion. It is, after all, no good crying over spilt milk. And it’s no good lashing out at those who left the milk out.

Upsetting emotion can spill all over others and bring unintended ruin as a consequence. It is far better to build a good and safe container that doesn’t spill. That way we can look at ourselves, own up to the mistakes and, as friend Christopher counselled me, “do not be disheartened”.
Friend, Simon Marsh, reminds us of the importance of positive psychology. Positive psychology underlines the importance of positive emotions to help us become more creative and flexible, as well as becoming more optimistic, resilient and “socially connected”.  Positive emotions loosen the hold of negative emotions, and according to research reported by Barbara Fredrickson, help us to live up to ten years longer.
Prayer helps the positive emotions. Like this prayer picked up from this morning’s Daily Prayer:

Faithful God, let your word be the treasure of our hearts, that we may delight in your truth and walk in the glorious liberty of your Son Jesus Christ.

The spilt milk demon. I’ll get over it.

>Holocaust Memorial Day

>I have just been watching Nicholas Winton’s story on Channel 5. What a remarkable man – saving 669 children from Prague and the Nazis in the months leading up the war. The link to the programme is here

I have already done a post about him. Apparently he is not much in favour of Holocaust Memorial Day, saying that we don’t learn from the past – and that it is more important to develop ethics. He wants the world to be aware of other ethnic cleansings – interestingly they are included in this trailer of Untold Stories from the Holocaust Memorial Trust.

>nobility and celebrity

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'The Judgement of Solomon', oil on canvas painting by Gaetano Gandolfi, mid 1770s
The Judgement of Solomon by Gaetano Gondolfi
(mid 1770’s) reminds us of the wisdom by which Solomon
achieved his noble status. The story is told in I Kings. It
reads like a plotline from Eastenders!

I didn’t know that “noble” literally means “known” – and so “nobility” is a community of persons who have become knowable because of the quality of their lives. Celebrity should similarly be the status of those whose lives are worth celebrating. Through the media (deserved?) we celebrate those who have achieved celebrity status through their ignobility – in spite of their lack of talent and human qualities.

Conversation with friends yesterday led us to reflect on Hitler who we saw as a good leader turned bad. A noble leader turned tyrannical monster. In that he is not alone. Michael Sadgrove, in considering the life of Solomon in Wisdom and Ministry, reflects on the processes and temptations for the noble of “grandiosity”. We know that nobility and grandiosity often go together. It is wisdom that keeps them apart.

Sadgrove writes: “The temptation is to stand as tall as we can so that we fill the institution we lead. Yet Jesus says that true greatness means becoming like a little child. This suggests that true ‘standing’ means not filling the space ourselves but making room for others.”

I shall reflect on how I have become known – how I may even be noble. I shall confess my ignoble sins of grandiosity. The ways of Hitler and Solomon lie open before us.

>Dog nose

>Dog nose macro close up

With ears pricked and nose to the ground, dogs create a mental map which we can never know. Dee Hock asks the question: “how many ways of knowing are there which escape human perception?” His probing of organisation is spurred on by such considerations – together with the awareness that institutional failure will continue to escalate, and the prediction of social carnage and the development of even more dictatorial institutions in response to that carnage.

Organisations, organisers, institutions would benefit from following the dog’s nose, in realising that there are many ways of knowing, that progress isn’t along straight lines. Scratch beneath life’s surface and we see a totally different reality which defies the truths of our mechanistic planning. We know in our heart of hearts that “life isn’t that simple” and we become more intolerant of institutions and responses that pretend that it is. Hock writes (after he scratches the forest debris under his do’s nose):

Billions upon billions of self-organising interactions are occurring second by second in the square yard of soil, each inter-connecing, relating, creating,and shaping self and others. Every particle is inseparable interacting and relating to others, and they still to others, unto the remote reaches of the universe and beyond – beyond knowing – but not beyond awareness, respect and love. The mystery of it all is overwhelmingly beautiful. Birth of the Chaordic Age. page 288.

>ticklicious

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Ken Dodd

We took my disabled mother in law to see Ken Dodd at Parr Hall, Warrington a few weeks ago – thank you Warrington for the parking ticket. Ken Dodd is still wielding his tickling stick aged 83. On this occasion his concert ended at 1.00 in the morning – perhaps rather insensitive given the age and circumstances of his audience. He still has the ability to make people laugh – we should always give thanks for people who can make others laugh, even if, by  now, the joke “have you ever had a tickle, missus” is wearing extremely thin.

His tickling stick reminds me of Dee Hock’s maxim:

You can’t tickle yourself. It’s a social act.

So, who’s tickling me today? I think it haas to be Hock’s reflection on his efforts to develop a new sort of organisation (from the same page as his maxim – p284: Birth of the Chaordic Age):

In the darkest times, and there were many, I could never look out at so many wonderful people and engage with them in laughter and give and take without walking from the room filled with wonder at the human spirit. They could do anything! Anything! And so can everyone, everywhere, if our minds are open enough, and our spirits strong enough to conceive of institutions that enable us to do so.

I’m not giggly, but giddy with that. It’s very ticklicious.