The Morecambe cenotaph ceremony seemed to go off very well. Leading it for the first time, I didn'e feel nervous, just slightly bewlidered by the remarkable array of cadets and military societies and associations. Plus wreaths were laid from political parties, the Freemason, a social club and more.
The son shone on Morecambe Bay, sparing us the soaking of the previous day, and the fallen were respected.
Yesterday I caught up with a documentary on the bombing of Coventry in 1940, shown because the anniversary is coming up on 14 Nov. The BBC iplayer link may only work for a bit, and may not work outside UK.
Having lived in the city, I was interested to see the coverage. Having done some burials in London Road cemetery, I remember the large memorial to the 1200 or so people killed in the big raid and subsequent ones. I also recall someone pointing out some semis in the pre-war part of the parish which had different mortar, but were otherwise identical to their neighbours. "Bombed" an old man said, "found the bodies in the woods". The only trace that they had been rebuilt were the whiter lines between the bricks.
The big raid focussed on the city centre, where many key manufacturing plants were then located, making armaments, vehicles, aircraft and much more. Over 500 aircraft maintained a sustained bombardment for several hours, and the city burned. What had been a city with many old building and streets that looked more like York or Lincoln, was reduced to rubble.
The most famous image is, of course, of the ruined Cathedral. The Cathedral has become a centre for international reconciliation; the city is twinned with Dresden, and a very moving piece of sculpture is located in the ruins as a memorial to Hiroshima. This connection, a sense of commonality in being places where civilians died was very moving to encounter.
But here's the ethical dilemma. It may or may not be true that British intelligence was aware that Coventry was to be bombed. It was known that a very large raid was being prepared and the obvious target was London. However, a myth persists that shortly before the raid it became known and was passed to Churchill that Coventry was the target. It is alleged that the decision was made to take no action that would indicate this knowledge (such as evacuate the city) as that would betray the extent that spies and codebreakers were aware of all German plans. Put crudely, the destruction of Coventry's city centre was a price worth paying for concealing the fact the British had a machine that could decode German ciphers. There is little or no 'hard' evidence to support this, although it does get repeated from time to time (including on the one episode of Babylon 5 I can recall watching!)
Whether it's factual or not, here's the question for the eve of Remembrance Sunday:
If the raid and its target were known on the morning of 14 November 1940, what would you have done in Churchill's shoes? What is a price worth paying?
I have been in on some interesting exchanges about the why and if of wearing a poppy. It seems that everyone on TV is now placed under huge pressure to wear a poppy, especially extra large ones for X-factor contestants, which turns them into a fashion accessory. And they seem to be coming in earlier and earlier, just like Easter eggs and Christmas decorations. I can't help thinking that this is a huge exercise in missing the point.
Don't get me wrong, I shall wear a (basic) poppy on Remembrance Sunday, not because other people want me to, but because I will be remembering a member of my family lost on the Somme in March 1918 and my own grandfather who lived through over two years' horror in the trenches. He survived and lived to an old age, but he lost many friends.
I'll also be aware of all the losses we have seen in recent years in Afghanistan and Iraq. Although much smaller in number than the 'great' wars of the 20th century, we are made all the more aware by the intense media coverage of everyone whose life is lost.
And I'll also be thinking of 14 Nov, the anniversary of the bombing of Coventry in 1940. Having lived there, I realise that the experience still casts a shadow over the city, as it must in many other cities devastated by war. The symbolism of the ruined cathedral is, of course, particularly evocative. For Coventry, it has inspired people to reach out to other communities - hence it is twinned with Dresden.
Remembrance Sunday and Armistice Day are there 'lest we forget' - lest we forget the death, losses, destruction, pain and grief of war, and lest we forget the need to work for peace and reconciliation in the future to try and avoid such things ever happening again.
Whether you choose to wear a poppy or not is a matter of choice; the important question is what kind of a world are you working for. The badge you wear is much less important than the commitments you keep to.
Athlete's new single & video click here to view.
Have changed this post, as it might have been irritating having the music start every time the blog is viewed. Sorry. It's just because I like it!
A very interesting debate taking place on Dave Gorman's blog, following his observations on a tube carriage. I first came across this on facebook, left a quick comment, and Dave asked me to join in on his blog! I'm still recovering from the fact I can name-drop in such a way!
Anyway, have a look and ask what you would have done in Dave's shoes.
To be read in a strong Irish accent. Similarities with a popular Irish sitcom are purely coincidental.
D: Ted, Ted, where are you, Ted? We’re getting women!
Father Jack briefly wakes and shouts “Girls!” and various obscenities before succumbing again to the effects of drink.
T: Now what’s that you’re on about, Dougal?
D: Priests, Ted. The Holy Father is inviting the Anglicans to come, so there’ll be women everywhere, there will. I like that vicar of Dibley – you know, the nice smile, the chocolate, and all the crazy people. I’d love to have her here, I would. Mind you, she’d have to get used to not being surrounded by nutters.
T: No, no, no, you’ve got it all the wrong way round, Dougal. The women are the problem.
D: Now why would that be Ted?
T: The Holy Father is inviting the Anglican clergy who don’t want women priests and Bishops to join us.
D: Why would he do that, now, Ted?
T: That would be an ecumenical matter, Dougal.
D: Well, at least we’ll be getting a few more priests in the church, eh? We could do with a bit more help on Craggy Island. Let’s get one to say mass tomorrow and we can go on the beach or stay in and play Buckaroo.
T: Ah, there’s a problem with that, Dougal.
D: What would the problem be, now, Ted? I know where you hid the Buckaroo. I found it while I was hiding Jack’s whiskey.
Jack wakes again, yells “Drink!” and is placated with a large slug from an open bottle.
D: Back to this problem, Ted, what is it?
T: Well these Anglicans, they’re not really priests.
D: But I just thought you said they were.
T: Not exactly, Dougal. You see they think they are, but the Holy Father doesn’t.
D: So let me get this right, Ted. The Holy Father is inviting priests who aren’t really priests to become priests so that they don’t have to be with the women priests who aren’t really priests either.
Ted hesitates slightly
T: Yes, that’s about it, Dougal.
D: So why would he do that Ted?
T: That would be an ecumenical matter, Dougal.
D: But Ted.
T: (wearily) Yes Dougal.
D: These priests, who aren’t priests but want to be real priests like us.
T: Yes
D: What will happen to them?
T: Ah, well they believe they are the proper priests, unlike the women priests, so they want to be accepted by a church that has real priests, which will say that they aren’t real priests, only lay people, but is willing to ordain them to be real priests in a church that hasn’t got any women priests. It’s simple really, Dougal.
D: Who’d be a Protestant, eh Ted?
T: Ah. That would be an ecumenical matter.
Jack bursts back into life.
J: GIRLS! **** ****
Having caught a bit of the dreaded programme last night, I'd just like to clarify that the best piece of music during the programme is Neon Rainbow by the Box Tops which you hear briefly over the TalkTalk sponsorship ad.
Thank you.
It's been interesting reading a number of responses to the Vatican's offer of a home for Anglicans who wish to be in communion with Rome, but retain something of their Anglican identity. They range from seeing it as a generous response to an inquiry, via 'papal poaching' to 'good riddance'. As I have said earlier, I think it probably makes easier a move which was possible before, but is now given more rationale and recognition by the receiving church.
It boils down to how we understand what Anglicanism is, and the basis of authority. For those tempted by the Pope's offer, their understanding would be that the destiny of the C of E was re-acceptance into communion with Rome. Therefore all decisions made by the C of E should be ones which are compatible with, or moving towards that destiny - hence the ordination of women as priests (and eventually bishops) becomes a huge obstacle.
For others what the Church of England formulated as its theological and ecclesiastical identity, following its initial break with Rome, is a precious heritage which would have to be discarded in such a re-admission / merger. Ironically those traditions then become similarly authoritative for some, once the C of E starts looking at structural merger with other churches, such as the Methodist Church.
It has to be questioned whether structural merger (whether in an RC or Methodist direction) should actually be an aspiration at all. If we could let go of the idea that being 'one' = one institutional structure, then all Christians might find themselves freer to have more fruitful relationships with each other.
Where it all goes from here, I don't know.
Walked along Marine Road this evening (it's the road parallel to the Prom). As it was getting dark, it was great to see lights out across the bay, as well the lights of cars moving along the coast road. The hotels were all a blaze of light, too, and I can confirm that not only is the Headway fully tooled up for Christmas, so is the Hotel Broadway. The Strathmore is a little more restrained in its decor, but is nonetheless also ready.
Things come early in Morecambe, so I'll be looking for Easter bunnies in January.
It's been a surprisingly quiet Hallowe'en here at the Rectory. A couple of small kids properly supervised by nearby parent and one group of teenagers. We were well armed with a good supply of fun-size Twix, but still have most of them. Still a bit to go. Also, not too many fireworks, although they are about the only thing our dog isn't scared of (he fears people, dogs, the dishwasher, balloons, a greeting card I received with collies on...)
According to Jonathan Ross this morning Hallowe'en or All Hallows Eve is a pagan festival. I know what he means - the Christians parked a festival on top of a pagan one (as we did for Easter, Christmas, etc) but the pagan festival was Samhain, not All Hallows Eve.
Meanwhile some Christians worry about people being drawn into evil by participating. Not quite sure how buying spider-web crisps from Marks and Spencer puts in the hands of demons. You could make a socialist observation about secular capitalism needing symbolic moments it doesn't really believe in to exploit us. As my friend Steve observes, some people think commercialisation will draw people into the evil of Halloween and then immediately moan that it takes people away from the reality of Christmas. It can't do both!
Maybe we need to rediscover celebrating 'Eves' instead of spending weeks marking a festival so we're fed up with it when it finally arrives.
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