St George and St Gabriel, Stockport

After 54 years the Assad regime in Syria has crumbled. Bashar al Assad has fled. Hundreds of political prisoners have been released from the notorious Sednaya gaol. Locked in underground cells, men, women, children and even a toddler, are now free.

Such regimes are often described as “evil”. But what is evil?

On Sunday afternoon I sat in the Savoy cinema watching a film of the André Rieu Christmas concert. Before the concert, smiling couples and groups from all over the world said that it had been a dream of theirs to come to Holland to enjoy this Christmas extravaganza.

And it is an extravaganza, a full-on entertainment. An orchestra, choir, soloists, instrumentalists, dancers and skaters. A huge empty space turned into a theatre for an audience of thousands and, thanks to computer technology, an ever changing winter wonderland.

At first I was irritated when the film flicked backwards and forwards between the performers and members of the audience. Then I relaxed and embraced the shared smiles, laughter, tears, hugs and kisses. People delighted, surprised and joyful. Human beings connected and happy.

The André Rieu experience suggested an answer to the question. Evil, whatever form it takes, always involves a disconnect – from ourselves and from other people. A disconnect from empathy, compassion and love. A connection that can be restored, because “Love came down at Christmas.”

Chris Dawson

Last Friday I spent the day at Bernard Gilpin Primary School in Houghton-le-Spring – now part of Sunderland. Bernard Gilpin, known as the “Apostle of the North”, was a notably caring and hospitable rector of Houghton-le-Spring from 1557 to his death in 1583. He connected with everyone, rich and poor alike, attending generously to their needs.

The primary school that bears his name, though not a church school, walks in his footsteps. It serves a largely poor, working class estate, attending to the needs of its children and their parents with generosity and kindness.

I was there with my friend and colleague Jonathan, on one of our regular visits supporting their focus on well-being and mental health for everyone – staff and children. I spent the day doing Tai Chi with each class and their teacher, from Reception to Year 6. Adults and children together. Tai Chi is really a form of meditation. It involves body and mind in focused attention.

Back at St. George’s, on my way to choir practice for the Advent Carol Service, I looked at the Christmas trees. Close to the organ was one which drew attention to the support available in Stockport for supporting well-being and mental health. I picked up one of the leaflets. It suggested five ways to maintain well-being:connect with people, get active, learn something new, carry out acts of kindness, appreciate the moment.

In the vestry were thirty two people aged from 6 to 90, older helping younger and younger helping older. Soon they would be concentrating as they sang. There in the present moment. Like the staff and children at Bernard Gilpin, I think they were fulfilling those five aspects of good mental health and well-being – without consciously realising it.

Chris Dawson

I drew up behind a car at some traffic lights yesterday and in my headlight I saw it was called an Avensis. I don’t remember the brand of car, but the name stuck with me. I remember reading an article once that said that car makers pay out tens of thousands of pounds to specialist companies to come up with names for their new vehicles.

I suppose they are trying to find a name that sums up the particular characteristics of that car, or link it into a family of cars. Some of these names are very familiar. They have been around for years and really do sum up the appearance and style of a particular vehicle – none better than the Volkswagen Beetle. Though officially it was the Volkswagen Type 1.

Comedians used to use catchphrases too – do they still? Something that you would instantly associate with them. I’m going back a bit, but a few come back to me from my younger days. Arthur Askey used always to begin with, “Hello Playmates” and end with “I thank yew”. Northern Irish comedian Jimmy Cricket, would always follow a joke up with a grin and “And there’s more”.

I’m not suggesting that the vicar begins every sermon with a catchphrase. Though it might grab attention and bring a smile to people’s faces. But what is our catchphrase as Christians? Something that makes the Christian message instantly memorable, that grabs people and draws them in.

Chris Dawson

Matthew is keen to stress Jesus’ inherited legitimacy. He lists generation after generation of Jesus’ forefathers to confirm his identity. It comes to an end with:

“…Achim the father of Eliud, and Eliud the father of Eleazar, and Eleazar the father of Matthan, and Matthan the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called Christ.”(Matthew 1:15-16)

It’s one way of telling the story.

Baroness Lola Young, an actor, an academic, and an activist for social justice, had no inherited legitimacy. She grew up in care. At the recent Booker Prize presentation, she told of how she was saved by the power of words. She told of how she read, anything and everything, under the bedclothes with a torch, so as not to disturb the four other children and their foster mother Daisy in their basement bedroom. Daisy died when Lola was fourteen. Lola had come to terms with her parents abandoning her at eight weeks old and returning to Nigeria. But Daisy’s death and being sent to a children’s home in Hertfordshire was, in her words “unthinkable”.

It was books that saved her, helped her to cope. To cope with being defined by her colour, by people in authority who hardly knew her, by a precarious domestic situation. It was the power of words that helped her to relate, to survive and to imagine a society where people were free to be who they were.

To underline Jesus’ legitimacy, John too turns to the power of the word – the ultimate word:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14)

Chris Dawson

Café Hope is a virtual coffee shop on Radio 4.  Rachel Burden invites a guest to join her for a brew and a fifteen minute chat.  Her guests are ordinary people who have done something which has made the world a better place.  Often way beyond what they expected. 

Nigel and his wife were looking forward to their retirement together, but it was not to be.  His wife was diagnosed with cancer and, after a short illness, she died.  At the funeral wake, Ted and two of his friends arranged to meet for breakfast the following week.  Calling themselves The Mostly Grumpy Old Men, they continued to meet weekly.  Others began to join them.  Now over 100 people attend the weekly breakfasts and the idea has spread worldwide.

Dutch supermarket Jumbo have introduced a Kletskassa – a chat checkout.  It’s a separate queue that allows customers and cashiers to have a leisurely chat.  They are positioned next to “chat corners” where people can sit and have a drink.  Supermarkets in France and Canada are trying the same idea.  Interestingly, there is no shortage of staff volunteering to work on these tills.

That coffee and chat after the Sunday morning service, may be doing more than we think.

Chris Dawson

Nearly half a million people visit Galicia each year to walk the Camino de Santiago.  It seems that northern Spain is not the only pilgrimage destination that has become increasingly popular.  In the past couple of weeks I’ve come across four magazine articles on pilgrimages and pilgrim routes.  Two of them in our own Grapevine.

In his piece in the September Grapevine Peter wonders whether the runners pitting themselves against time constraints and the challenges of the Pennine Way could be on a pilgrimage.

Hazel’s description of the Peak Pilgrimage walks, in October’s Grapevine, is of something more leisurely and gentle.  Of following a route and visiting a series of churches. Nevertheless, both are about challenge and achievement – getting somewhere and proving something.  Even if it is only collecting a sticker to say you were there.

Certainly, traditionally a person on a pilgrimage is trying to achieve something.  They are on a journey with a purpose.  There is a destination the pilgrim is trying to reach.  A place  of spiritual significance.  But after they reach it, they are still, like the rest of us, on life’s journey. 

So we are all travellers, wayfarers, pilgrims even.  And being a pilgrim is a way of moving through the world.  A way that we create daily by our words and actions.  For, as the Spanish poet Antonio Machado says, “Caminante, No hay camino… Traveller there is no road… your footsteps make the road.”     

Chris Dawson

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.”

So says the writer of Ecclesiastes. In other words, each aspect of life has a natural rhythm, we may ignore it, even defy it, but it is there.

This year’s increased rainfall has affected the usual rhythms of autumn. More water has meant that trees are staying greener for longer. When a colder snap comes, the leaves are likely to turn all at once into their autumn colours and fall. Nature responds and does it’s best to get back into this rhythm.

Having just moved home, I am constantly opening the wrong drawer. I am out of rhythm. A pattern is slowly emerging, but I’m still searching for things. I feel a bit out of kilter. What was automatic and routine has become blunderingly deliberate. It’s only through repetition and focus that I will restore balance.

Though we benefit from having rhythms and routines, the pace and technology of modern life often mitigate against us adopting them.  We can switch on instant entertainment, contact anyone, anywhere at any time and travel across continents and time zones. We don’t have to wait for a time and a season.

What about our spiritual life, our quiet time, our prayer life? Do we just snatch what time we can? And does it work?  The Dalai Lama was asked what was key to meditation. His reply?  “Routine”   A very practical and down to earth response.

Chris Dawson

11th October 2024

How often do you look in the mirror?  Apparently men look more often and women look for longer.  And  when you look, what is reflected back?  Do you see a dearly beloved child of God?

A story:

“See yourself for a shekel!”  A boy in the market is holding a tiny piece of mirror, encouraging people to look at their faces for one shekel (about 20p).

He is making a living by offering a very rare service.  I have not seen my face since I arrived in Rafah, many weeks ago.  You can’t buy mirrors any more.  Anyway, a mirror is something you forget about in this situation.  How you look doesn’t matter.

I ask him: “Do you make money this way?”

He tells me he does.  “Lots of people want to see themselves,” he says.  “I make 30 shekels a day, or more.  “But you see him?”  The boy points to a man down the street walking away from us.

“He looked at his face, but gave the mirror back to me without paying.  I’m not stopping him, though.  He had a cut from his face all the way down to his chest, a long, horrible cut, not healed well at all.  I think it was from shrapnel.  He looked at his big, ugly scar and when he gave me back the mirror I saw he was crying, so I let him go.”

I took the boy’s mirror and looked at my face.  It’s got very skinny.  I have no mirror for shaving, so the stubble on my chin is all uneven, some bits longer than other bits.  I’m a mess.  I did not cry.  I gave the child two shekels and continued walking.

Hossam Al-Madhoun, February 18, 2024 (The New European)

Chris Dawson

Some people see a need and get on with things.  Others find excuses not to.  “It’s not my responsibility… above my pay grade… someone will sort it.”  Yes, sometimes we need to set boundaries, or we can end up running round like the proverbial headless chicken.  But we can also find all sorts of reasons for not stepping forward.

During World War II a German widow hid Jewish refugees in her home.  When friends discovered she was doing this, they became extremely alarmed and feared for her well-being.

          “You’re risking your own safety.  You know what will happen if you’re found out,” they told her.

          “I know,” she said.

          “Then why are you doing it?  It’s crazy.”

          Her answer was straightforward and simple.  “I am doing it,” she said, “because the time is now and I am here.”  (Source unknown)

So, if we see a cobweb that needs clearing, perhaps we can just get a brush and deal with it! 

Chris Dawson

“Finally brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”  So says St Paul at the end of his letter to the Philippians.

Over the past few days I’ve found myself doing just that – thinking about what is true and fair and just.  Today, Tuesday, there is a debate and vote in Parliament about the proposed cuts to the Winter Fuel Allowance.  Last week we had the publication of the Grenfell Fire Enquiry.  Coming up next month is a Government budget. 

I’ve discovered that thinking – even about truth, fairness and justice – can come to comfortable conclusions:  I’ll be OK without the Winter Fuel Allowance. We don’t need it. Yes, I am outraged – at a distance, of course – at the buck passing and unwillingness to take responsibility for the Grenfell Fire.  I’m also rather hoping that taxes are raised on the rich rather than me.

“Whatsoever is comfortable and convenient and doesn’t give me too much trouble….then I’ll think about these things.”

Chris Dawson