The Rectory Window

Make straight paths (Mark 1:3) Something puzzles me. For a nation that practically invented queueing, it is odd to see rules being flouted everywhere you look. From back-garden parties, to stay-over relatives, from beach invasions to street raves, it seems we've given up on lockdown. What does this mean? Well, for one the Brits do not take kindly to privilege. Oh, they love royalty and are surprisingly comfortable with some sort of elite (two of the last three PMs went to Eton), but they hate one rule for some and another for everybody else. As soon as Boris failed to sack Cummings the writing was on the wall for lockdown compliance. Mates rates are okay, but mates rules are not. More than that, rules only work if they make sense. Old people (high risk) are allowed to visit overnight with their working offspring (high contagion), while students (low risk) are not allowed to meet up with their friends (equally low risk). Groups of 30 or more can meet in a religious building, but you

Prepare the way (Mark 1:3)  I suspect this is a fundamental principle for God's dealings with his people: that the way must be prepared.  For example, I am convinced that God provides all that his church needs for mission and ministry, but only when his church is ready to receive from his hand. The way must be prepared. All income must be tithed, so everyone knows a minimum of 10% is given away to the needy outside the church. No fundraising events for church funds must be taking place. All giving must be secret, so only God receives glory from the gift. The church must be committed to using its funds for the gospel and not for its own own glorification. The way must be prepared. Then and only then will the Lord visit his people with blessing. And even then they may have to learn to wait, to trust, to receive. Just as John prepared the way for Jesus so too must we, by our lives and actions, our prayers and giving, our loves and living, prepare the way for God, Father, Son and Holy

Calling in the desert (Mark 1:2)  Desert does not mean sand. I know, it always conjures up and image of a Bedouin herdsman riding a camel for me too, but trust me, I've been to the Judean wilderness and it is definitely not sand. It means that it is deserted, or appears so. No human habitation, no domesticated animals, no rich forests or fertile fields. Desert. So an odd place to go calling, you might have thought. Surely you should call in the city, or at least a decent sized town, if you want anyone to hear you and pay attention. These days stick it on the internet, post, re-post, share, blog, tweet, do anything to get attention in the echo chamber of virtual space. Don't wander off into a deserted place and have a good shout where no one can hear you.  But, this is God's way of preparing the way for his son. And it works. People come from all over. He doesn't wander through their streets, doesn't invade their territory with his message. They have to come to him.

Make straight paths (Mark 1:2)  Are we free? Next time you make a simple choice, toast or cereal, coffee or tea, laugh or cry, is it possible, with no change of circumstance, that you would choose differently? I suspect not. I mean now you will of course, just to prove me wrong. But if you hadn't read this then you wouldn't do anything differently.  So are we free? We think we are. We treat others as if they are for we punish the wicked and reward the good. But whenever we look at how we actually behave we realise that our choices are decided by our experiences and characters. Nature and nurture determine who we are and what we do. But are we free? Look at it this way. We are made up of stuff, matter, which obeys universal laws, physics. Is there anything you can do to change the laws of physics or to alter the nature of matter. No. Again the freedom dilemma. We think of ourselves as able to choose when all of physics tells us we can't.  How then, are we free? Well, I am co

Isaiah the prophet (Mark 1:2) In In Extremity John Robinson examines the poet, Gerald Manley Hopkins. His thesis, as far as I understand it, is that Hopkins poetic energy arises out of discomfort. The discontinuity between his natural desire for tranquility and spiritual surrender and his choice to live a life under the discipline of zeal and spiritual conflict act as his muse, driving him to ever more wondrous creativity. It set me thinking. How much am I infected by the modern instinct to harmonise life and instinct? As Robinson suggests, today people think self-denial is a dirty word, and self-fulfillment is the mark of a successful life. For me, I think that my self-denial may have come as a career choice. I have no natural instinct to teach young people yet I did so for 25 years. Is that time wasted or is the conflict it caused between the quietly confident problem solver and the public orderer of others' lives precisely the fertile soil for human flourishing? I don't know

Son of God (Mark 1:1)  Mark was written in Greek. We do not have the original, of course, but, unlike many ancient texts, we have lots of early copies. This means that we can be pretty sure of the words originally written. Every time you copy a text by hand you get errors but if you have enough copies you can filter those errors out. It's a detailed and meticulous process of comparison and elimination and it yields very reliable results. Occasionally though something gets through. There are too many copies that agree with each other and disagree with the majority to rule out the alternative being the original one. In the New Testament this is quite rare because of the large number of early copies but the phrase 'Son of God' is a good example. Scholars love to speculate about why the variation was added at an early stage (or taken away) and why it persisted as a variant. It gives them a job and something to do, poor loves, but it is, frankly, glorified guesswork, at huge odd

of Jesus (Mark 1:1) Today William Hague got in on the act. He told us all that things are even worse than we thought, that there is massive unemployment, and that he has the solution, to reduce social distancing from two metres to one. Now I may be a cynic, but these two do not seem to be cause and effect. Both are, in fact, the effect of our attempts to battle COVID-19. Reducing our distance will help transport and hospitality. It may even allow businesses to function. But that's hardly the point. If it also allows the virus to spread then we are back to square one and another round of lockdown and lost employment.  So why does this make me a cynic? Well, I suspect another motive for his measured outburst. He wants to get ahead of the game and be seen as the saviour of our nation by pushing the government into changing the social distancing rules. It is all too common for politicians to do this. They need to be seen to make a difference so they find a popular cause and behave as i

Good news (Mark 1:1)  Now here's a clever idea. Let's put vulnerable older people and potential superspreaders together in close proximity. Now let's move them inside into an enclosed space. Oh and let's make sure it's a place that's really hard to clean. Oh and let's make sure that we do something to encourage them to wipe their eyes. Oh and I forgot, for the pièce de résistance, why don't we do it in an atmosphere where it is almost impossible to remain human and maintain social distancing. Now what shall we call it? Let's call it a funeral. What a great plan. Finally we can give the public some good news. You can have funerals in church and anyone can attend. Brilliant. The church path leading to the churchyard

Beginning (Mark 1:1)  This one word, beginning (αρχη), does the work of 10,000. It tells us that Mark is not writing some simple tale about a bloke he met in the pub, but an epic saga of world-changing importance. It tells us that Mark is not some ignorant yokel who doesn't know his arse from his elbow, but a well-educated theologian who is intimate with the subtleties of Scripture. It tells us that when we read this book we had better hold on tight because things are going to get interesting. The author knows what he is doing so don't be fooled by the sharp dialogue and snappy anecdotes. He has met the creator of the universe and wants to introduce us to him in the only way he knows how, by telling his story. How does one word do all this? Because only one other book begins with this one word, beginning, and that's Genesis, which starts with the story of the whole of time and space, not just its beginning but its ending too. Now here, in Mark, is a story even greater, grea