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Vientiane

It is good to be back in Asia – after several years now.

Sitting on the balcony of our hotel, looking out on the buildings and streets of Vientiane. The coconut palms and frangipani trees, sparrows and mynahs, terracotta rooves and radio masts, the bustling traffic on the streets and a rather languid gardener in the grounds of the cultural centre opposite, with its grand gold, green and red facades.

It is nearly 30 years since I first came to Cambodia – full of dreams and expectations, perhaps with a sense of confidence and certainty, of commission and idealism. A lot has changed since then.

I have changed.

Perhaps with less certainty, more doubts. A gentler view of the world and my place in it. And with a greater sense of gratitude – and of lament.

God of Yesterday,

We knew you then:

Your promises; your words;

your walking among us.

But yesterday is gone.

And so, today, we are in need of change.

Change

and change us.

Help us see life now

not through yesterday’s stories

but through today’s.

Padraig O’Tuama, Daily Prayer with the Corymeela Community

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Boycotting Facebook

In light of the recent allegations by Frances Haugen around the working practices of Facebook, and the ways in which they are putting profits ahead of the welfare and safety of their users, we have decided to stop using Facebook for the time being. We are particularly concerned by the allegations that the algorithms used by Facebook are contributing to harm to the health and wellbeing of teenage girls, and that the company is aware of the harm being caused but has not taken action to change their algorithms.

We will keep this under review and once we are satisfied that Facebook are genuinely taking steps to minimise the harm done through their social media, we may start using it again.

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Now, Lord, you let your servant go in peace

In the early hours of this morning my father, Stephen Sidebotham, died in his sleep, after a long struggle with Alzheimer’s disease. The past few years have been upsetting, as we have slowly watched him lose his memory, his deep, engaging personality and his joy in life. Dad found the past few months of Covid restrictions confusing and upsetting, and it was particularly hard over the past three weeks as he was in hospital and we were not allowed to be with him.

We are grateful, though, that on Thursday, he was moved to a local nursing home and we were able to sit with him through yesterday and into the night. Before leaving him last night, I read the day’s compline, with Psalm 139 – one of his favourite Psalms, and listened to Rutter’s The Lord bless you and keep you.

Although these last weeks, months and years have been incredibly difficult, I am so grateful for all that my father was – to me, to my Mum and my sisters and the rest of our family, and to so many people both in Hong Kong and here in England. I remember, with love, the wonderful conversations I had with my Dad over the years – for his encouragement, wisdom and deep love, for the clarity and deep humility with which he helped me explore my own faith and life journey; the joy and inspiration I felt as a young lad as we, together, worked in his carpentry workshop, building items of furniture, a trainset, a canoe and sailing boat, and all sorts of items for the house and garden; the family games and outings; the pride (and awe) I felt as a youngster seeing my Dad, in long, flowing robes, leading services, preaching and teaching at Christ Church and St John’s Cathedral in Hong Kong; and his absolute devotion to and dependence on my Mum – ‘she who must be obeyed!’ I remember him speaking with such gentleness, grief and love at Mei Ling’s and Helen’s funerals, and the pride and joy that just overflowed whenever he saw or spoke of any of his grandchildren.

We will miss him, as will so many people whose lives he has touched – sometimes in ways he didn’t even know. And we will always remember him with gratitude, joy and love.

Now, Lord, you let your servant go in peace.

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A Prayer for the New Year

As we leave 2020 behind and enter the new year, I am very aware of the grief, loss, loneliness and struggle this past year has brought to so many people. Like all of us, I hope that 2021 will be better. I look forward in hope to a curtailing of this pandemic and the effective roll-out of the vaccines; I long for more consistent and compassionate political leadership, and for meaningful in-roads to tackling our global issues of prejudice, social inequalities, abuse and violence, climate change and the exploitation of our environment.

I recognise, though, that I cannot change any of this myself and that the only thing (person) I can change is me.

So, with that in mind, this is my prayer for the new year (with thanks to Pádraig Ó Tuama and Daily Prayer with the Corrymeela Community):

I begin this year with trust and hope:

Honouring this life that God has given

With all its potentials and possibilities;

Knowing I am created for loving encounter;

Knowing the year can hold love, joy, healing and forgiveness;

Beauty, truth and goodness.

I hold – but hold lightly – my hopes, plans and expectations.

I lay aside my need for affirmation and acclaim;

For power and control;

For comfort and security.

I make room for the unexpected –

May I find wisdom and life in the unexpected.

Help me to respond graciously to disappointment;

To hold tenderly those I encounter;

To be fully present –

To you, to your creation, to my fellow creatures,

To each present moment.

I resolve to live life in its fulness;

To welcome the people who will be part of my year;

To greet God in ordinary and hidden moments;

To love the life I am given.

–

(and if I express it as a prayer, rather than a new year’s resolution, then I can blame God if I don’t quite get there!)

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Two Weeks in Quarantine: Day Fourteen

Yes – it has really happened. Today is day 14 of our quarantine. We have had our final checks, and now we are free to leave – to walk out of the hotel and go free. Without any of the restrictions of the past two weeks, or even those of the past 8½ months.

New Zealand is Covid-free. And – apart from its closed borders – life here is carrying on as normal.

Not so, sadly, in the UK which – as the vaccine is slowly rolled out – continues with its tiered restrictions. And, even when a majority of the population has been vaccinated, life will be very different, and certainly not a return to normal as we have known it.

For Lois and I these restrictions have hardly been more than a minor inconvenience, and I am – once again – aware of how privileged and blessed we are.

For so many people that is not the case. There are so many for whom the pandemic and the lockdown restrictions have brought, and continue to bring, hardship – bereavement, loneliness, loss of their livelihoods; financial struggles, anxiety and stress.

And so, as we walk out of our quarantine hotel, my prayer is – for all whose lives continue to be affected by the pandemic, the advent prayer:

‘The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;

On those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.’

May it be so.

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Two Weeks in Quarantine: Day Thirteen

At the final climax of the powerful Motionhouse Dance, Captive, the dancers, till then trapped within the confines of their metal cage, are offered their freedom as the cage is lifted. The dance ends and you, the audience are left wondering whether they will take the freedom offered them, step out into the frightening beyond, or – like trapped animals or disempowered prisoners – stay within the ‘comfort’ of all that they have known.

Lois and I, for the past 13 days, trapped within the confines of our quarantine hotel, will tomorrow be offered our own freedom. Our swabs have come back negative. We will have completed the 336 hours required to show that we are Covid-free.

I am looking forward to getting out. To having the freedom to walk in the New Zealand countryside – to go where we like, to meet with others, eat and drink our own food, follow our own timetables.

And yet. There is a part of me that wonders – do I really want this time to end? I have got quite comfortable in our little routines here, having our meals delivered, not having to make decisions or fit in with other people. I have appreciated the time alone with Lois – we get on well together and enjoy each other’s company. We’ve played games, watched movies, read our Mma Ramotswe novel, savoured a bottle or two (or six or seven) of Kopiko Bay wines, even indulged in a bit of frivolous and wonderfully meaningless activity! And I have valued the opportunity to devote some time to my PhD and other academic work: reading books, writing papers, analysing results, thinking.

So another couple of weeks would be really nice – just think of all the other things I could achieve, the progress I could make.

I know there will be no hesitation on Lois’ part, but what about me: when I’m given my final certificate, and the hotel door is opened before me…

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Two Weeks in Quarantine: Day Twelve

Having ticked off many of the tasks I had set for myself during our time in quarantine, I decided to devote myself this week to my PhD, and in particular to writing a paper on a piece of critical discourse analysis (CDA) I had done on the Safeguarding Overview document of the Church of England.

My discourse analysis had yielded some really interesting perspectives on this document, highlighting much that was positive, but also some aspects which I felt were unhelpful or misleading. Given the publication of the Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse (IICSA)’s report on the Anglican Church, and the Church’s own commitment to implementing its recommendations, I felt it would be helpful to publish my findings.

So it was with a degree of frustration that I found that the Church has now removed this Overview document from its website.

Perhaps all my careful structuring and control of our quarantine time is starting to unravel.

There were other signs, also, of cracks in the fabric:

  • As my computer microphone packed up and I could not be heard in two important Microsoft Teams meetings set up with researchers for our National Safeguarding Practice Review Panel
  • As I sat on Zoom, waiting to be let into a meeting which was actually scheduled for tomorrow and which I had, somehow, entered into my calendar 24 hours out of sync
  • As I failed, in consequence, to book an exercise slot for today, so leaving me without any opportunity to get out in the fresh air and sunshine of the pool deck

Still, we only have two days to go now.

So, with a deep breath, I sat down at my computer and refocused my research paper on the Safeguarding Policy document that was the other subject of my CDA.

And, by some miracle of grace, the words started to flow.

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Two Weeks in Quarantine: Day Eleven

It would be very easy, stuck in our quarantine room for eleven days, to only see the negatives: the loss of freedom, the isolation, the noise from the building site opposite…

So I decided today that I would deliberately look out for the goodness, truth and beauty around.

And here is what I found:

  • The goodness of four young adults enjoying a game of Four Square in the middle of the exercise yard
  • The goodness of the armed forces, security guards and hotel staff doing their jobs diligently and with friendliness and grace
  • The goodness of Mma Ramotswe’s kind words to her assistant Charlie in Alexander McCall Smith’s latest novel (yes, I know that the traditionally-built proprietor of the Number One Ladies Detective Agency in Botswana is only a fictional character, but she is portrayed so well that her goodness still shines through!)
  • The goodness of discovering that the 24-storey building site across the road is actually a gutting and recycling of an old building, thus helping to reuse resources and reduce waste, rather than demolishing and starting from scratch
  • The truth portrayed in a couple of research papers submitted to our journal
  • The truth that is slowly coming together as I think about a paper for my PhD
  • The truth embraced by the precision engineering on the building site – how it all holds together securely and safely
  • The unusual stunning beauty of the spikey flowers on the big red bromeliad on the exercise deck (alcantarea imperialis)
  • The pristine beauty of three white gardenias after Lois and I had gone round dead-heading them
  • And yes, even the ordered beauty of a well-constructed building