Maybe it will happen one day...

One of the simple pleasures in life for me is listening to the radio. When I'm in the study I usually have Classic FM playing in the background, punctuating my time with news updates and great pieces of music for working and thinking to. In the car, however, nothing can compete with the national privilege that is BBC Radio 4. In our noisy, visual and glamour orientated world Radio 4 really shouldn't work or carry appeal to anyone below 60, but it does for me. Research driven, fact focussed programmes interspersed with drama and fiction is a real treat on any journey - and even more so when a couple of hours in the car are called for.

One of the real advantages of radio is that it has time to work through issues and stories that are not normally heard on television. This is nowhere more true than with the PM and World Tonight News features - packed as they are with incisive analysis and punchy interviews.

On last night's PM programme there was a fascinating interview with Nick Clegg of the Liberal Democrat party (it is available on iPlayer for six days here). As with the leadership debates, Clegg proved himself to be an able communicator and interlocutor, especially given the rigour of some of Eddie Mair's interrogation. The first question out of the bag took the party leader by surprise however, as he was asked 'You've said that you're not a man of faith, why is that?'. Clegg stumbled, stuttered, repeated the question as though he was turning it over in his mind and then offered a touchingly honest portrayal of his uncertainty as to whether there is a God or not. He stated that sometimes he very much wished he was a man of faith as it must be a great thing to have such belief. When asked about his family background he stated that his family had not been religious when he was growing up, but that now many his family did have faith. His next statement blew me away: 'I for one haven't experienced what people of faith have...maybe it will happen one day'.

What affected me so much by this statement was not only its honesty, but how much it disarms our tendency at times to be militant in our approach to anyone in the media who speaks from the atheistic or agnostic side of the fence. Given the hurtful and harmful rhetoric of individuals like Dawkins, Hitchens, Pullman et al, it is perhaps a strong temptation to view anyone who speaks as a non-believer as part of the march against belief that the United Kingdom is experiencing. Perhaps this comes to me as a warning shot that I ought to give myself more to prayer than polemics, to seeking God to win the hearts of those in power, and those on the other side of the debate - rather than seizing on their statements to vociferously. I'm sure that's a mistake I make repeatedly in life and on this blog. I need help from God to be more compassionately spiritual I think.

In seven minutes from now I, along with many people in the UK, will watch the last of our televised leadership debates on the BBC. As I look at Cameron, Clegg and Brown how I need to pray for these men as people, as souls, as those whom God may bring to Himself through His Gospel.

Ashes to Cashes

'Dying with dignity' has become a catchphrase for our culture, particularly when discussing issues of euthanasia and assisted suicide. It carries with it resonances of people being eased out of life in a warm, caring and ethical environment - as though extinguishing someone else's existence in the name of 'mercy' is the right and honourable thing to do.

This utopian view of homicide is fraying a little at the edges, however, as more revelations about Dignitas, a Swiss assisted suicide centre, emerge in the popular press. The Times have been at the forefront of reporting on the alleged discrepancies in how Dignitas is run. Last July they published this article which heavily quoted from a nurse who had previously worked for the organisation, and who is now disillusioned by its practices. Among her statements at that time was the fact that the word clinic was "an exalted epithet for just one person who has found a way to make a lot of money out of death and the fear of it”. In addition she chillingly recounts her own efforts to persuade a depressed 22 year old who had come to the clinic not have his life taken.

In yesterday's Times another revelation emerged about Dignitas, as over 50 ashes urns were retrieved from the bottom of Lake Zurich, near to the clinic's premises. While an absolute link between the urns and the company has yet to be finally established, they do carry the logo of the crematorium which is used for disposing of the bodies of those customers who avail of Dignitas' services.

Aside from the macabre and tawdry banality which such stories attach to the issue of dying, there are definite repercussions for those of us living in the United Kingdom. Next week voters will be asked to choose a new government in Westminster, and it is difficult to escape the continual newsfeeds about how the campaigns of the various parties are faring. A point made by Gordon Brown which is worth bearing in mind is that the weekly televised leadership debates are distracting voters from thinking about policy, and establishing their focus on personality. This is witnessed nowhere more clearly than with regard to the issue of assisted suicide.

Both Gordon Brown and David Cameron have spoken clearly about their opposition to the decriminalisation of assisted suicide, with the latter branding it 'dangerous for society'. While there parties have allowed a free vote on the issue in the Commons, it is clear that each leader stands against the law being relaxed in this area. On the other hand Nick Clegg's Liberal Democrats passed a conference motion in 2004 in favour of legalising medically assisted dying (although their MPs were likewise allowed a free vote on the issue).

As Christians these issues really matter, carrying with them a lot of theological and ideological concerns about the nature of life, human dignity and eternity. To be culturally engaged in our world, living as salt and light, demands of us that we look beyond the soft focus of X-Factor-esque personality contests, and think deeply about how policy affects the dignity, morality and security of those who are most vulnerable in our society. A great resource for doing this is the Christian Institute's election briefing available here, which condenses the moral record and principles of each of the parties into a very helpful document. How we ought to pray over these policies, and seek the Lord - not merely that the best party of a bad bunch might be elected to power in Westminster, but that our God would move among the corridors of power and bring men and women in government to salvation and to right moral bearings.

Dumbing down?

Sometimes politicians express disappointment at the disillusionment that people feel with the political process. Clips like this one make you wonder why don't they?

The Leadership Debate and the New Moral Consensus

Last night marked the second of UK National television's landmark 'leadership debates' - where David Cameron, Nick Clegg and Gordon Brown each spoke to the issues of our day, and sought the votes of a nation. The broad category for discussion was foreign issues, and it was fascinating to once again watch the power-play between these three men as they simultaneously attacked one another and allied themselves to each other - depending on which strategy was most suitable to their gameplan.

A question was asked from the audience about Pope Benedict's anticipated visit to the United Kingdom, and whether it ought to be welcomed. Both Brown and Clegg spoke warmly of the influence of Catholicism on society although neither of them are Catholic (Brown describing himself as 'Presbyterian' and Clegg as 'not a man of faith'), while Cameron joined them in welcoming the state visit of the pontiff.

More interestingly, however, was the springboard which the issue of the Pope's visit provided for each man to prove his orthodoxy - orthodoxy that is to the spirit of the age. While welcoming Benedict's visit they each spoke of their divergence from the dogma of the Catholic church - particularly with reference to homosexual civil partnerships, abortion, and embryonic research. While this perspective is not surprising, what was striking was their casual assumption that what they were saying was in line with majority thinking in the UK and not in contradiction to it.

If proof were needed that the United Kingdom has no claim on the title of a 'Christian country' such exchanges provide it. How we need to pray for God to move among the hallowed halls of Westminster, to save the leaders of these parties, and point our society back in the direction of having the Lord as its God.

The Balance of Calvinism

I read this quote yesterday in Iain H. Murray's Spurgeon vs. Hyper-Calvinism and was blessed by the balance and warmth of what Spurgeon has to say about predestination and human responsibility. How these dual sentiments should frame our preaching of the Gospel:

'I believe in predestination, yea, in its very jots and tittles. I believe that the path of a single grain of dust in the March wind is ordained and settled by a decree which cannot be violated; that every word and thought of man, every fluttering of a sparrow's wing, every flight of a fly...that everything, in fact is foreknown and foreordained. But I do equally believe in the free agency of man, that man acts as he wills, especially in moral operations - choosing the evil with a will that is unbiased by anything that comes from God, biased only by his own depravity of heart and the perverseness of his habits; choosing the right, too, with perfect freedom, though sacredly guided and led by the Holy Spirit...I believe that man is as accountable as if there were no destiny whatever'.

Leadership Debate - Some Homiletic Reflections

One of the fascinating details recorded by Iain H. Murray in Volume 1 of his biography of Martyn Lloyd-Jones is his youthful interest in parliamentary debate, and the lessons about oratory which he gained from his first hand observation of it from the public gallery of the House of Commons. Modern British politics has been more renowned for controversy than eloquence, and watching the BBC Parliament channel would scarcely yield much information about how to speak in public, or to handle issues orally.

Tonight history was made in British politics and UK television, when the leaders of the main parties - Liberal Democrats, Conservatives and Labour - went head to head in a US style live TV debate. Many people will have tuned in for the novelty factor, others to hopefully witness a public scrap, and still others to seek to get to the bottom of what the main parties policies actually are. For me, all three of these were a cause to watch part of the broadcast, but another feature struck me as it progressed - the lessons which it teaches about addressing a congregation on complex and emotive issues. The following points are just a sketch of my thoughts as I watched:

1. Simplicity

The format of ITV's production was spartan indeed. No applause was allowed from the audience on individual contributions, and the three leaders stood on a spare stage, elbow to elbow with no hope of editing or slick presentation. No visual aids were allowed, just words. If nothing else, a 90 minute word based programme goes against the spirit of 'dumbing down' which we are often told dominates public discourse in the 21st century. Perhaps we put ourselves under too much pressure at times about 'dressing up' simple words when we speak to our people? Words well chosen and fitly spoken can be very powerful indeed.

2. Pastoral Application

Throughout the debate Cameron, Clegg and Brown each presented their arguments, not merely in terms of manifesto and party line, but with illustration from normal life. Most of their examples were gleaned from the 'campaign trail' where they are speaking to people in their communities about the issues which most deeply affect them. Abstractions are not helpful, application is hugely beneficial. In the case of preaching this presses the importance of preaching which is grounded in Scripture, but which also consciously addresses the heart and life needs of those whom we address. The Puritans are exemplary on this front.

3. Big Theme Emphasis

Part of what made Nick Clegg's contribution so effective was his ability to bring the big themes of his message to the forefront on each point. Without monotony he pressed his big message with memorable lines which acted as a refrain for his message, and brought the big ideas of his party home with force. Again, this speaks powerfully about how we address our hearers - if pastoral application reaches their hearts, then surely big theme emphasis carries our exposition of Scripture to their heads with force.

Undoubtedly many more issues and ideas could be drawn from this groundbreaking television programme - these are my simple reflections, I'd love you to share yours.

Martin Amis and Reverse Redemption

My forays into the world of fiction are sporadic to say the least. I usually occupy my reading time with non-fiction secular titles, theological books, and Christian devotional literature. Occasionally though I enjoy an encounter with a novel, and it invariably inspires my thinking about spiritual issues.

Recently I borrowed Martin Amis' work Time's Arrow from my local library, and took about 8 weeks to read it through. I had heard much about this book during my time at university, and have always wanted to read it. Time's Arrow is a strange piece of literature, both in terms of its narrative structure and its plot development. The entire storyline is written in reverse order, with events happening backwards throughout. This means that the book begins with the main character, Todd Friendly, emerging from his death. The rest of the book witnesses him progress (regress?) inexorably back to birth and to the womb. The narrator of the book is a disembodied character who witnesses Friendly's activity from a position of objectivity and quiet disgust.

The backwards narrative structure is interesting at a couple of levels. There is, in the first 30 pages or so, a sense of fascination with how Amis will craft his tale, and the reader is left with the same sense of awe that a five year old might experience when watching a birthday party magician. Meals involve empty plates being served up, which those at the table dutifully refill, encounters begin with intimacy and end with alienation, and the toilet scenes? Well the less said the better.

The more interesting aspect of this narrative style is Amis' larger point. Friendly is a former Nazi officer, sheltering in the United States from his hideous past of anti-semitism and torture. Friendly is a doctor in the early part of the book, and the narrator is appalled at the damage which these professionals inflict on their patients. People with injuries arrive with their wounds stitched or their complaints healed, only for the doctors to undo their dressings and leave them in a worse state before they leave. Under these terms, medical professionals are among the most hated and hateful figures in society.

When the holocaust is finally reached in the novel it unfolds as an act of creation. Huge clouds of smoke are drawn into incinerators, and people are magically, cosmically formed. The Nazi officers and soldiers at Auschwitz are thus creating a new people, giving life to millions. Friendly (who by this stage in the narrative has resumed his original German name) finds himself paternally linked to these people, fondly watching their development from malnourishment and marginalisation to good health and happiness. The novel ends with Friendly inevitably reentering his mother's womb.

Time's Arrow is at once a disconcerting, spellbinding and unpleasant work of fiction. Reading it as a Christian allowed me to think about what Amis was seeking to achieve in the reverse world of Todd Friendly. The obvious, perhaps pedestrian, point to draw from it is the Nicodemus-notion of being able to re-enter a second time one's mother's womb. Amis is writing a novel about regeneration, about redemption of past wrongs, about the reversal of the horror of history known as the Holocaust, and his main protagonist is released from the moral trammels of his actions by going back.

The tragic conclusion that the novel leads us to, however, is that this book is a work of fiction, and that narrative as well as time must work in a forwards direction. Past actions cannot be reversed, evils cannot be redressed, and the genocide of a generation cannot be 'redeemed' by those who realised it upon them. This, perhaps, is Amis' bleak conclusion, his modernistic secular judder at the permanence of evil - both in history and in our own sense of humanity.

Multi-layered as Time's Arrow may be, it ultimately leaves us with no resolution, let alone redemption. In true chronology Friendly dies a happy old man in the United States, far removed geographically and morally from the actions of his past - apart from the nightmares he endures throughout the first part of the book.

For me the novel lacked two components which are essential to understanding evil and redemption. Firstly a Redeemer. One who bears not merely the personal psychological consequences of our sin and sins, but who takes the penalty, who pays the price, who absorbs the reality and retribution that our human evil entails. In short it lacks Jesus. Secondly, it lacks a sense of eternity, that moment in God's order when all wrongs will be put right, when the balances will be redressed, and when the justice of God will be finally and visibly realised.

Double Usefulness Returns Pt.4 (This time its personal!)

My name is Andrew Roycroft, and I'm a bad blogger. There, I've said it. Double Usefulness has lived like an elderly relative during the past months, expectantly waiting for me to follow through on my promises to visit it more often and give it more attention - but alas to no avail! I've done various 'comeback' posts here which follow the same basic melody line - 'I know its been a while, but I'm back, and now there are going to be loads of posts'. Then...nothing....

But this time I mean it. I am reprising Double Usefulness, and am going to try to stay on the wagon this time. What makes my resolution different this time? For one thing a more stable personal environment out of which to think and write about books, music and culture. And for another (much more compelling) thing, I've refreshed my belief in trying to work at writing regularly and more fully. A number of things have inspired this, including some comments from friends, some ideas for blog posts, and also inspiring entries like Dan Phillips has posted here.

So I'm back, with a vengeance. Watch this space for new posts, thoughts, rambles and rants.