Books... I am getting rid of a few

I am in the midst of packing. I am taking the opportunity of going through each book shelf courageously, and rather than allowing nice folks from the removal company to pack, I am placing them in the boxes themselves, and getting rid of some - where they are going has not quite been determined. I have a shed load of books from the time of my PhD which was awarded in 1995. I lots from my ordination training (1999-2001). I have lots about Wales, Welshness, Liberation theology... and for a particularly peculiar reason about two dozen commentaries on the Revelation to St John the Divine.

Each book might be considered an old friend. Might be considered. Some are in a condition of newness and look like they have not been read, which is largely because they have not. I will still take too many.

But this time, they might reflect who I am: a scholar priest, with a love for Wales and a longing to speak articulately in the context that I find myself.

Another box awaits... and books silently whispering, read me, read me please....

Why I am voting Labour

I grew up in Sheffield. Dw i dwad o Sheffield yn wreiddiol. I think my childhood in Sheffield Brightside saw only 2 MPs, both of whom were Labour. My parents voted Labour, I think :-). In my teens, I saw recession for the first time, with the decimation of the steel industry and coal fields, with men losing their jobs and often their self-respect. (They were the men that I noticed. I grew up on an estate, where men only were present in the evening and at the weekends, so the change was obvious and profound). I was allowed to stay on at school in the 6th Form through the aid of a grant provided by Sheffield City Council, and did my first two out of three undergraduate years at university before student loans came in.

Obviously, the reasons for my voting Labour are shaped by my faith, although I would acknowledge that Christians vote for other parties with integrity, even though I might want to have robust discussion over a pint with a Christian Tory.

 I do not pretend that the Labour Party has got everything right. There are policies advanced by the Green Party, Plaid and the Liberal Democrats that I admire. I also with that the leadership of my party was robuster in some areas.

I will vote Labour because intrinsically I believe in the Welfare State or more accurately what I would all a Welfare Society. I believe that those of us who earn a little more should pay that bit extra in terms of taxation. I am perhaps more radical than Corbyn on this. I would not say 95% of the population will not pay any more tax. Taxation can be used to redistribute wealth fairly and appropriately in a welfare society, where each person is treated equally and fairly. This is not socialism but an egalitarian Christian ethic, although there is nothing wrong with the former. My notions of a Welfare Society are rooted in the Old Testament prophets, the teachings of Jesus and the example set by the earliest Christian communities. I draw upon them as a person of faith. There are other reasons why people who do not share my faith vote Labour, but that is for them to articulate.

I take the Labour leadership at its word that it is for the many, not the few.

I am also voting Labour because it is internationalist in its outlook. I think this is important after the result of the referendum. We need as many friends and allies as possible, and the Labour movement prides itself on being open and standing in solidarity with others around the globe, rather than perhaps investing in a 'me first' culture.

I will be voting Labour, and in particular for Albert Owen on 8 June.

My hope is that you will vote too, so that whoever is our/your representative will have the biggest mandate possible.

Something old, something new; new ways in an ancient setting

Cybi Unplugged is a new venture, but for it to have genuine credibility it must share an identity with what has happened in the Roman fort in Holyhead for a millennium and a half, that is, Christian worship.

Much of the worship that would have been offered in the fort would have been liturgical, usually, allthough not always centred on the Eucharist/Mass/Lord's Supper.

Since the Reformation, the worship would have been Anglican, which has prided itself of being in the vernacular (language of the people) and rooted in the teachings of the earliest Church fathers and mothers, and of course the creeds. Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi has been a strapline for Anglican worship for generations, essentially meaning that was what we believe is expressed in our worship.

It would seem clear that in times past, indeed within my own life time, Anglican Christians could be formed by the liturgy. Given the reshaping of habits of worship it is not as easy for this to happen today.

• “As we pray, so we believe”, may not be true for those who only participate in our liturgy 6 to 12 twelve times a year, as is increasingly the case in our early 21st century landscape. With a once-a-month attendance pattern, a “regular” attender may only hit one Sunday in Advent or Lent, and only experience the Day of Pentecost once in three to five years.

 This is acute for Cybi Unplugged, as it is for Messy Church in Morawelon - the majority of our worshippers do not come from traditional liturgical church backgrounds. 

We do say sorry to God and each other. 

We do listen to the word of God through the Bible (this could be done from a video clip or listening to an audio reading)

We do have a talk

We do respond to each other and to God

We do have a pattern. It is not quite the same as what happens on a Sunday morning, but then again it is in a very different language to that which Cybi spoke (Latin, Cornish, Welsh)

 

To Holyhead with love

It is a truism that you only recognise how brilliant something or someone is as you are about to move on. This is not true for me with Holyhead. It has always been a brilliant town, perched on the edge of Mon overlooking the Celtic Sea. I admit it took me a couple of week when I moved. I seem to remember the wind and rain were of Noahic flood proportions and I could barely see anything during that period.

Caergybi is the UK's second busiest port. It is cosmopolitan by North Wales standards. Its story rich and diverse, and people welcoming. 'Vicar' yelled a car driver narrowly missing running me over 'welcome to Holyhead!' just weeks after I had arrived.

It is Mon's largest town, but in reality is a collection of small villages living together in close proximity. It is a town where small businesses begin and thrive, and people long for the best to happen.

In terms of faith, it is at one and the same time the home of the UK's largest collection of Jedis according to the 2001 Census and a place of deep Celtic Christian heritage. Cybi the saint embedded within Caergbyi gave the town its overarching story and name (Cybi's fort - Caergybi). At one time, pilgrims came from all over the Christian world to see him. Holyhead has by and large forgotten this story... and hopefully the regeneration planned for St Cybi's will help it be told again.

It is a place that has given me a love for Wales, its language, land and people. I will miss it. Yet during this summer, I will enjoy it and remember it fondly as we part.

Pob bendith, Caergybi

There may be no left to come for

It is becoming a truism that voters apparently like the policies of the Labour Party, but apparently not its leader.

How could people not like the policies when they are designed to protect the most vulnerable and expect all to play their part in society?

Perhaps however what we have not quite factored in is that the most vulnerable have been made the other or scapegoat for society's ills. It has happened gradually, sometimes without us knowing. Parties of different political colours have let it happen, and we have, all too often, stood by on the other side.

The problem with making someone other is that perhaps ever so slowly a process of de-humanisation takes place. It is how fundamentally we get to the deserving and undeserving poor.

This is not a call to vote Labour. It is though a call to reflect on whether we want to be a society that embraces the other and puts the vulnerable at the centre as a matter of justice, in spite of the cost to ourselves.

Half a pace behind: Leading a service in Welsh

I have noticed that whenever I lead a service in Welsh, the act of worship takes a little longer. It is not that there are more pauses, but that I say the words more precisely. I might be tasting the words, perhaps savouring them, although practically I am slowing down so as not to make as many mistakes. I am half a pace behind where I would be using English.

One of the delights of coming to Wales has been the chance to get to grips with another language. I am not a linguist, although can read various ancient languages, which is a joy that comes from having been, prior to ordination, a NT research student and tutor.

There is something inevitably vulnerable about suddenly only having the linguistic capabilities of a young child. Initially, in one language, I might make a stab at talking theology, in the other; I could manage ‘lle dach chi’n byw?’ (Where do you live)? In one memorable moment, I realised I could pronounce iachawdwriaeth (salvation) and not ask for a pint. This has now been addressed.

Leading worship is though done from a place of weakness, vulnerability and openness. This is the more true when leading in a second language. I am not referring to the learning of words and correct pronunciation, which although important are perhaps not the most important facets for taking worship in a language other than your mother tongue. Whilst, not the most important; discipline and regular learning is essential. It is an incarnational thing.

Language is a gateway to another culture. Until that is appreciated, you cannot begin to learn another language. Whilst language learning can be simply a case of what does this mean in that language, which is an important building block, learning to speak a different language moves you into a different place. It is impossible to be unaffected by it. This is not a simple reference to the struggle to get to grips with mutations, or in my case the quiet panic of having to speak publicly and clearly at key moments of people’s lives.

 
In the process of learning, everything slows down. This is obvious, perhaps. I need to accept my limitations, for example, I might want to say something, which in English I could do with ease, but in Welsh, simpler ways need to be found in order to accommodate my limitations. Moreover, as time goes by, it is not just my limitations that are exposed, but what I might want to say in my mother tongue cannot be said in Welsh. Direct translation therefore becomes stilted at times. Thus, in the learning, I must make time not just to memorise new words, but begin to hear the spiritual rhythm of the language itself. Perhaps in a sense you do not learn a language without living it.

Witnessing. But to whom?

On Good Friday, I took part in the Caergybi CYTUN Walk of Witness from St Mary's RC Church to the Millennium Cross in town. The walk is done in silence, and at the cross there is a short bilingual service consisting of hymns, readings and prayers, and this year for the first time a Bible story told by the Open the Book team.

In Holyhead, this is a positive event on a number of levels, not least because churches and chapels, Welsh and English come together and are seen to do so publicly. Division between church and chapel and across language divide is well known within Wales, and to do something together publicly is a dramatic statement. 

The walk (no more than 10 minutes long) follows a wooden cross and a banner bearing the CYTUN logo. It is the only public act of witness that we do together. There are other events and activities members of CYTUN get up to throughout the year, not least the support of the Foodbank under the banner of the Trussell Trust. 

As we pass up the high street, those watching tend to fall silent. Some know what is happening and others clearly seem not to. 'What is going on?', one middle aged woman said to another, with the response, 'I think it is something religious'. Clearly the answer to that observation is 'yes', 'no', 'but' and quite possibly 'and'. The events of the first Good Friday cannot be described as a religious event. Indeed the unjust execution of an innocent human being is not at all comfortable. 

There is no sense that we are claiming any particular ground or public space. We are offering worship, remembering, bearing witness to our faith under the town's Millennium Cross, erected by the Town Council to commemorate the Millennium.

Christianity has shaped Holyhead. The story of Cybi, the celtic monk who was gifted the Roman fort in the middle of the six century, has given the town its name, Caergybi: Cybi's fort. There are images of Cybi on public display throughout the town. Whilst, many many have long since forgotten that this place on the edge of Anglesey was a significant place of pilgrimage, and at one stage with the presence of a number of so many celtic saints in the vicinity, it is highly likely that the town was known as Holyhead. Indeed, those tasked with increasing tourism to the area, have made much of the fact that the area is Ynys Cybi (Cybi's Island - there he is again) or Holy Island. One might therefore suppose that faith groups are welcome to witness openly in the public sphere without it being seen necessarily as trying to dominate. Unlike many areas of the British Isles, particularly the urban conurbations, Holyhead does not have much of a faith mix. There is a mosque in a house and we do have according to census figures more than our share of Jedi knights (here is me attempting some cultural relevance)

 The key thing then for us is not about cultural appropriateness, but whether we witness in a manner that is understandable and indeed whether anyone is actually watching. Or whether there is just something good about Welsh and English speaking Christians from churches and chapels retelling our story and reminding the town of its own story, especially as it wants to use the story to shape its own future.

I am sure there will be more later.