I lost a job and then I found a job....

So, as some people know, I have now found another role within the same company as before. If you have known me for a while, you may know that this has happened before - a few times. I have lost a job, but found another position really quickly. In this case, because it is within the same company, it has been really quick.

I think it is true that God has blessed me in my working situations, many times.

Let me clarify, I have very marketable skills, and I know how to find work. I also landed in an area (computer software systems) that ha been the most significantly growing in my working time. That is part of the way that God has blessed me.

Then I see others. Often equally talented (in different areas maybe) people struggle to find new roles. Are they not blessed by God? Or "less blessed".

Simple answer is: No.

Longer answer: I have no idea. But also, it is easy to assume that I am blessed because I am worthy or deserving of it. Which is, of course, totally untrue. If I am blessed, it is to help and support others. It is to spread that blessing to others. It is not because I "deserve" it.

The thing is, if I am blessed, my only response should be to bless others with my blessings. The ONLY response should be to spread that. To tell people how blessed I am, how special I am because I am blessed - that is a betrayal of everything I have been given.

To be Gods blessing to others - that is my aim.

Quakers are anarchists

This may seem like a very peculiar statement to anyone who associates anarchism with violence, and Quakers with peace, but this misunderstands the nature of anarchism.

People who promote and support violence at anything and for any reason are not "Anarchists". There is another name for these people, and it is "Idiots". I know that the media usually refer to these people as anarchists, but that is a label, not a philosophical statement.

So why do I say that Quakers are anarchists? Well, anarchism is about a rejection of authority - more specifically, it is a rejection of imposed authority, it is a rejection of the idea that another party can impose authority over us.

Let me explain: the American Footballers who took the knee - as a peaceful protest against the racism and hte racist killings - this was anachism, once the authorities told them not to. It was anarchism, because it was a rejection of the rights of the football authorities to rule on their peaceful protest.

For clarification, it is perfectly reasonable to accept the football authorities rights to define how the game is played, what the rules are and to have to abide by them, while still rejecting their rights to ban their protest.

The early Quakers did something that sounds minor today - they refused to doff their hats at the gentry. Big deal, right? Well, in a society where observing the social niceties was fundamental - where an acknowledgement of hte structure was at the core of maintaining the cohesion of the society - this was anachist. This was radically challenging to the structure of society. The reaction it provoked showed how problematic it was.

So yes, Quakers were anarchist, in their peaceful, and so intensely undermining, way. Today, in all sortf of often quiet, peaceful ways, Quakers are anarchist. That is - I guess - part of what attracts me.

Seeing ourselves.

So I was told recently that on a zoom meeting, your own video feed is reversed, because (apparently) people find it easier to see themselves as they see themselves in the mirror, rather than as others see themselves.

I was reminded of this in Meeting this morning, as there is a clock in the background, which is backwards as I see it.

Others, of course, see my video the correct way around.

The way we see ourselves is not the way that others see the us. That is very true - not just in online meetings. Our own perception of ourselves is not the same as others see us, maybe not completely reversed, but different - because seeing ourselves as others see us is disturbing. We prefer to see ourselves differently.

I think there is an interesting conclusion here: sometimes we need to believe what others see in us, what others say about us. Sometimes, other people see us better than we see ourselves.

So you sit in a silent Zoom meeting?

I have been asked a couple of times how we do Quaker Meeting for worship online. "Do you have a zoom meeting and mute everyone?" - well, yes.

Is it peculiar? Yes. But then, a normal Quaker meeting is odd, if you think about it. We go to a place, and sit in silence. And yet, as many testify, this is a powerful time, a time of deep spirituality, of engagement with the divine.

So yes, we sit in silence, looking at a computer screen. It is a strange thing to do, but then engagement with the divine is a strange thing to experience. At a time when it is difficult to separate work and home, being at home and spending time quietly contemplating divinity is powerful. And - in my personal experience - is also helpful. It helps to have a time of calm and peace. It helps to bring this into the home/work.

Thin places

There was an interesting comment about thin places in the meeting today. Thin Places are from Celtic spirituality, and are places where people have experienced the presence of the divine. There are some well known places - like Glastonbury - that are traditionally known as thin places.

But it struck me in the meeting (and I ministered along these lines) that what makes a place "thin" is not the divine presence. What I have been experienced is that what makes a place thin is us - our presence. It is about our involvement, and about our ability to see the divine in wherever you are.

In lockdown, the strange blurring of home/work/church/whatever can make it really hard to find the divine in any of these places (and as they are all one, that is difficult). But if it is us who makes hte difference, then we can find the Thin Place wherever we are. It might be - who knows - that we can find the divine in our work places when we return to them.

That could be a revelation.

The Castle will never be rebuilt

We have been having "Virtual meetings" these last few weeks, which is an interesting experience. But it seems to be working.

This week a number of things came together and made sense (I would have shared them, but my laptop started dying just after meeting!):

1. Others sharing their challenges with the Easter story and the theology behind it. Just for clarification, unlike those who ministered, I do accept the "traditional" theological understanding. Allbeit not all the theological interpretations.

2. A song by The Flaming Lips - The Castle. This is where the title comes from. It is about someone whose mental health collapsed and who took their own life, but it also speaks to me of the problems of mental illness - that it changes a person.

3. The discussions I have seen around asking when we will get "back to normal".


My take is that we will not - and should not - get back to normal. We should change and move to a new normal. Going back is a bad move - we need to learn lessons form this time, and move to a different way of doing things. The Easter story - however you understand it - changed the disciples. They could never go "back to normal". They had to find a new normal, a new way of doing things.

The truth is, the castle can never be rebuilt. Nor should it.

Changing faith

So I have been obessing over a song I heard this week - a version of "A Sound of Silence" by Disturbed. It is a cover of the Simon and Garfunkel song

The original song is incredible, and still makes the hairs on the back of my neck tingle. The performance is perfect (as always). The lyrics are very contemporary, the music is not, but still works - it is still a good song. The original is as old as me (which is old!) - 1963, since which time the music world has changed several times. It is unrecognisable from the world that song was originally written in.

The Disturbed version bring out (for me) new nuances and ideas from it. And makes my entire spine shiver. Because it is totally right for the song, honouring the original, but also fresh.


My faith is based on Judaism - which is 6,000 years old. Reunderstood as Christianity 2,000 years ago. Most of my theological expression and ideas - most of the language of my faith - is no more than 150 years old. It has been my faith for a bit over 40 years.

And yet, if my faith is not re-envisioned, with respect for the history and tradition, but with a distinct focus on what is right not, it is dead. A living faith is one that is prepared to listen again, re-interpret. Of course, not all new ideas are right, but to be open for the new is so important.

The fact that my faith has origins 6,000 years ago doesn't mean there is nothing new to find, to understand. In fact, it means that there is good solid tradition on which to understnad the faith TODAY in the context of the world now.

Because without that, I would never have given the Quakers a try.