Lament Part Two

The lament I wrote last week seemed to strike a chord.

It was prompted by Lois and I watching an episode of Victoria, focused on Ireland and the potato famine. It may only have been an historical television programme, but it left us both feeling upset and angry, crushed by the sheer injustice of it all.

We were angry about the horrendous suffering experienced by so many millions; angry at the wealthy landlords trampling on the heads of the labourers while greedily holding onto their privileges and comforts; angry with the politicians callously looking after their own political interests while gambling with people’s lives; angry with the bishops, twisting religion for their own power and control, distorting the gospel, and turning a blind eye to the suffering of ordinary people.

And angry with God for creating a world in which children die of starvation and millions suffer to feed the greed and violence of others.

And we felt crushed and angry because this was not just something that happened 150 years ago, but remains a reality today: in Yemen, in Syria, in South Sudan; in China, Russia and Myanmar; and, in different ways, but much closer to home, in the UK, USA, Australia and Europe.

We hear on the news of millions starving and made homeless because of conflicts in the Middle East. And our own government continues to fuel this with arms sales to Saudi Arabia. We hear of lives ruined through gambling and addictions; of aggressive, arrogant men ignoring both laws and morality, and treating others with disdain; of big multinationals treating their workers without respect, destroying our environment, and brazenly evading and twisting tax laws; of the dignity and rights of children, women, and those who are ‘different’ being trampled on; of individuals and families in our own city left homeless, sitting in the shadow of the ever-growing forest of cranes building flash new student accommodation.

Sometimes it is right to get angry.

Sometimes it is right to lament.

Lament

I look out of the window and I see

Clear, blue skies

Vibrant colours of autumn blazing

in the morning sun

Crisp frost bringing out the beauty

of our garden.

 

And yet I know

thick, dark clouds cover our earth

blotting out the warmth of the sun.

Devastation and despair wreak havoc

across the nations.

 

And where is God?

Psalm 22: Why have you forsaken me?

Psalm 22: Good Friday 2017

A psalm of lament for all those who walk in darkness,

who cry out to a God who seems to have abandoned them.

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from helping me?

O my God, I howl in the daytime but you do not hear me.

I groan in the watches of the night, but I find no rest.

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

We are the hidden ones, the lonely ones, those who suffer in silence.

We are the elderly widow, sitting alone in a care home with no-one to visit;

The homeless man, huddling against the cold in a urine-tainted alley;

The confused teenager, scarred by abuse and the blade in her own hand;

The grief-stricken parents, crying out for the baby so cruelly snatched from them.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

 

Yet still you are the holy God whom Israel long has worshipped.

Our ancestors hoped in you, and you rescued them.

They trusted in you, and you delivered them.

They called upon you: you were faithful to your covenant.

They put their trust in you and were not disappointed.

 

But as for me, I crawl the earth like a worm,

despised by others, an outcast of the people.

All those who see me laugh me to scorn:

they make mouths at me, shaking their heads and saying,

‘He threw himself on God for deliverance:

let God rescue him then, if God so delights in him.’

 

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from helping me?

O my God, I howl in the daytime but you do not hear me.

I groan in the watches of the night, but I find no rest.

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

We are the innocent ones, the powerless ones, those who cry out in silence.

We are crushed and broken, cast aside; trampled on by those with power.

We are the children gasping for breath with Sarin-tight lungs;

We are the ordinary civilians in Aleppo and Homs;

The helpless pawns in the global struttings of might.

We are the unsuspecting citizens of Westminster and Stockholm;

We are PC Palmer and Jo Cox, giving our lives in the cause of what is right.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

 

Yet still you are the holy God whom Israel long has worshipped.

 

Do not desert me, for trouble is hard at hand,

and there is no one to help me.

Wild beasts close in on me, narrow-eyed, greedy and sleek.

They open their mouths and snarl at me,

like a ravening and roaring lion.

 

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from helping me?

O my God, I howl in the daytime but you do not hear me.

I groan in the watches of the night, but I find no rest.

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

We are the persecuted ones, the voiceless ones, those who persevere in silence.

We are the Coptic Christians, torn apart by extremist bombs;

We are Nigerian school girls abducted by Boko Haram;

We are the children, the women, whose basic rights are stolen;

The lesbians and gays condemned by church and state;

The minority groups, the poor, and all who are pushed to the margins.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

 

Yet still you are the holy God whom Israel long has worshipped.

 

Why are you so silent, God, why so far from helping me?

My strength drains away like water, my bones are out of joint.

My hands and my feet are withered, you lay me down in the dust of death.

 

The huntsmen are all about me:

a circle of the wicked hem me in on every side.

They have pierced my hands and my feet –

I can count all my bones –

they stand staring and gloating over me.

They divide my garments among them.

They cast lots for my clothes.

 

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from helping me?

O my God, I howl in the daytime but you do not hear me.

I groan in the watches of the night, but I find no rest.

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

We are the hungry ones, the thirsty, who groan with pangs of silence.

We are the mothers and babies in South Sudan, crying out for a breastfull of milk;

We are the victims of greed in a world of plenty;

The marginalised poor in the slums of Manila and the Favelas of Mexico;

The exploited, the trafficked, those held in bonded labour;

We are the disempowered immigrant standing in line at a foodbank,

While the rich grow richer and turn the other way.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

 

 

Yet still you are the holy God whom Israel long has worshipped.

 

Be not far from me, O God:

you are my helper, hasten to my aid.

Deliver me from the sword,

my life from the falling of the axe.

 

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from helping me?

O my God, I howl in the daytime but you do not hear me.

I groan in the watches of the night, but I find no rest.

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

We are your people, your ordinary people.

We sit in silence with all our fears and doubts.

We feel like broken candles in a world of growing darkness,

silent voices in a world of violence and greed.

Injustice and oppression shatter the lives of so many and our prayers seem so futile.

We cry out to you, O God, and yet you are silent.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

 

 

 

Silent God, we bring the cries of our battered hearts, and the cries of those burdened by illness and bowed down by the weight of oppression. We bring them so that we may not be silent. Hear us in the name of Jesus, forsaken on the cross.

 

* The quotations from the Psalm (in italics) are taken from Jim Cotter, Psalms for a Pilgrim People. Morehouse Publishing, 1998

The London Evening Standard, the Metropolitan Police, and Executive Pay

A leading article

This evening, the London Evening Standard ran a page 2 article on the new Metropolitan Police Commissioner, Cressida Dick, who has chosen voluntarily to take a £40,000 pay cut compared to her predecessor.

An editorial comment praised this move, and encouraged those on top end salaries to ‘follow Ms Dick’s fine example.’

 With policing budgets under pressure, this is a welcome indication that Ms Dick is in touch with reality. In many sectors the gap between executive and average pay is rising for no good reason.

 

Putting their money where their mouth is?

Given that the London Evening Standard’s incoming editor, George Osborne reportedly already earns in excess of £1.5 million per year (Politics and greed: seeking integrity and justice, 27th March 2017), I wonder whether he will follow his columnist’s advice and Ms Dick’s fine example?

 

Politics and greed: seeking integrity and justice

Politics and greed

George OsborneIn May this year, George Osborne, former Chancellor of the Exchequer and MP for Tatton in Cheshire, will take up a sixth job as editor of the London Evening Standard.

 

Although it is reportedly common for sitting MPs to hold other jobs, I struggle to see how he can take on this new role with any sense of integrity. Mr Osborne, reportedly, already has four other jobs besides representing his constituency[1]:

 

  • He is an advisor to the American fund management firm Blackrock, for which he is reportedly paid £650,000 a year for one day a week’s work;
  • He is a speaker at the Washington Speaker’s Bureau, through which he apparently earned £800,000 in 15 speaking engagements last year;
  • He is a fellow at the US think tank, McCain Institute, from which he receives a £120,000 annual stipend;
  • He is chairman of the Northern Powerhouse Partnership.

 

Time, money and conflicts of interest

As an ordinary mortal who struggles to fit all my work commitments into the time available, I find it hard to understand how Mr Osborne can possibly do justice to representing his constituency with all those other roles competing for his time. Even if the other roles only take up a small proportion of his time, surely editing a daily newspaper cannot just be fitted into his spare time.

Last week the Economist reported that since being ejected from the treasury in July, Mr Osborne has taken part in just 6 debates in Parliament and has yet to submit a written question.[2]

As MP for Tatton, Mr Osborne represents 85,000 people. As chairman of the Northern Powerhouse Partnership, he is meant to be promoting the development and interests of the North of England. In contrast, as editor of a London newspaper, he will have a powerful voice in the capital. It is hard to see how this will not cause any conflict of interest. When called on to vote on parliamentary debates will he vote according to his paper’s position, in the interests of the northern powerhouse, to represent his constituents, following his party’s whip, or will he vote primarily in his own interests?

Which brings us to the sickening greed of someone who can accept remuneration of £12,500 per day as an advisor, or charge an average £53,000 for an after-dinner speech. For the year ending 5 April 2015, median gross earnings for full-time employees in the UK were £27,600. While I support MPs receiving appropriate remuneration for the work they do, and I don’t have a problem with them taking on extra roles if they can manage them without compromising their primary role, I do have concerns about the validity of someone representing their constituency, while earning, in one after-dinner speech, nearly twice what their average constituent will earn in a year.

 

Seeking integrity: the Green Party’s candidate for West Midlands’ mayor

Reeling from the sickening reality of such obscene payments, it came as a breath of fresh air to read the pledges of the Green Party’s candidate for West Midlands’ mayor, James Burn.

In May this year, the West Midlands will elect its first ever mayor.

jamesburn2

James Burn, currently leader of the opposition on Solihull council, and the Green party candidate has pledged, if he is elected, to refuse the majority of the proposed £100,000 salary, accepting instead the average wage of the West Midlands, of £29,000. The remainder he has pledged to donate to charity and local start-ups.

As a local councillor, James has been consistent in standing up for social justice and ethical principles[3]:

  • He played a key role in Birmingham’s first Living Wage campaign;
  • He has continued to call for Solihull Council to pay a living wage instead of giving big pay rises to directors;
  • He is supporting investment in the least well off areas of the West Midlands;
  • He is an unpaid board member for the Advanced credit union, an ethical community bank covering Solihull and North East Birmingham;
  • He has served as a volunteer for a wide range of charities.

 

In addition to his personal pledge in relation to the mayoral salary, James has also pledged to set up a public forum with representatives from across the community to hold the mayor to account. Currently the arrangements include one small committee, chosen by the authority and meeting four times a year.

 

Integrity in Politics: going for Green not for greed

The contrast between these two politicians couldn’t be starker. And when it comes to our own democracy, whether in Parliament, or in our local combined authority, I would much rather be represented by someone who is clearly committed to social justice, to promoting well-being, to protecting our environment, and who isn’t afraid to live out their principles.

 

 

[1] https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2017/mar/17/george-osborne-named-new-evening-standard-editor-newspaper

[2] Economist, 23.3.17: http://www.economist.com/news/britain/21719523-thats-not-oddest-part-time-career-mp-others-have-worked-playboy-or

[3] http://www.birminghammail.co.uk/news/midlands-news/west-midlands-mayor-candidate-james-12568183

The leader of the free world?

Last week a reporter on the BBC news referred to the President of the United States as ‘the leader of the free world.’ The phrase was used somewhat derisively, but nevertheless, to my mind, betrays some fundamentally flawed assumptions that date back to its first use in the years following World War II, and, I suspect, remain quite widely held assumptions in many democratic, capitalist societies.

 

Assumption 1: Leadership is something conferred by virtue of position

I accept that the president of the United States, by virtue of his position, holds some leadership responsibilities within the United States. There are some things which only the incumbent of the White House can do. However, holding such responsibilities does not necessarily make that person a leader, and it certainly does not confer any leadership status beyond the United States. True leadership is earned, not conferred.

A leader is only a leader if others follow. And to achieve that the leader needs to be a person of integrity, vision, courage, compassion, and humility. To the extent that the president of the United States demonstrates any of those qualities, I would be prepared to attribute some leadership to them. Without such qualities, no matter what he, or anyone else, claims, he is not my leader nor a leader beyond those in his own country who have chosen to follow him.

 

Not the cry, but the flight of a wild duck, leads the flock to fly and follow. —Chinese Proverb

 

The same would apply to whoever sits in the Oval Office, as indeed to any other head of state or other prominent person. Unless and until other nations, heads of state and individual citizens of the so called free world choose to follow the US president, he is not, and never can be, ‘the leader of the free world.’

 

Assumption 2: Leadership is conferred by size, power and wealth

While the issues around assumption 1 have been thrown into sharp relief by the character of the current incumbent of the White House, this assumption is far more subtle, and I suspect more widespread.

According to the World Bank, the United States of America has a population of just over 320 million, exceeded only, but quite substantially, by China and India. Its Gross Domestic Product is 18 trillion US dollars, over 60% larger than the next highest country (China), and greater than the whole of the European Union put together. In terms of military strength, the USA has 1,381,250 military personnel, again only exceeded by China and India, but closely followed by North Korea and the Russian Federation. According to the Arms Control Association (www.armscontrol.org) the USA has 6,800 nuclear warheads, 45% of the world total and only exceeded by Russia.

So on population, wealth and military strength, the United States ranks within the top 3 countries of the world, and far exceeds all other countries in terms of its GDP.

But does that make it the leader of the free world?

Are size, wealth and military might really the values to which we look for our leadership?

Or, to put it another way, domination, greed and brutality?

It seems to me that, without even recognising it, we have bought into a mentality that assumes that might is right, whether that is in size, wealth or strength. And in doing so, we legitimize bullying and a disregard for the rights of others.

 

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth – Jesus Christ

Assumption 3: We (those purportedly in the ‘free world’) determine who is and is not part of the ‘free world’

As far as I can tell, the concept of ‘the free world’ was introduced during the Second World War to refer to those countries fighting against the fascist ‘Axis’ powers (Germany, Italy and Japan). During the Cold War, the term shifted to refer to non-communist countries. According to the Cambridge Dictionary, the free world refers to ‘those countries whose governments have been chosen in free and fair elections and whose people have full human rights.’

But who are we to determine which countries truly are or are not part of that ‘free’ world? Would that include a country with a democratically-elected communist government? Does it exclude countries where religious prerogatives determine the course of government?

Perhaps, though, one of the biggest difficulties with this assumption is the implication that all peoples living in our self-determined ‘free world’ are free and enjoy full human rights.

I wonder how many of those now to be denied health insurance would say they enjoy free and full human rights, or those 2 million or more incarcerated in US prisons, or the residents of the Standing Rock Sioux reservation?

And perhaps there is an even deeper, more subtle assumption here. Even without flagrant disregard for human rights, am I, in my country, surrounded by advertising, my choices controlled by corporate giants, constrained by a culture that values wealth and aggressive ambition, also truly free?

 

 

An alternative view of leadership

In an interesting twist of words in different contexts, the BBC made a policy decision to refer to the group that calls itself Islamic State as ‘So called Islamic State’. In a similar vein, perhaps the president of the United States could be referred to as the ‘so called leader of the so called free world.’

But rather than acquiesce even that far to these flawed assumptions, I would much rather see all of us thinking in terms of the whole world and all humanity, not just our own little, self-defined corner of it. And I want to be someone who helps create an alternative view of leadership: one that respects all those who truly embody values of integrity, compassion, justice and humility.

So how about a movement to identify those values we truly want to promote that will lead to all people being free? And how about starting with recognising and affirming those people in whom we do see those values?

 

Easter Weekend: Holding Hope along with Anger

Just days after writing my two ‘angry’ blogs (SIDS, restorative justice and big tobacco: why I’m feeling angry; and George Osborne’s budget: more reasons to be angry), Europe was racked by another terrorist attack, this time in Brussels. Violence continues to shake our streets. Meanwhile, in the Middle East, innocent women, children and men continue to flee from their homes in terror, and risk their lives in desperate bids for freedom. And, closer to home, it seems to me, as I walk through the streets of Coventry, that the number of homeless young men is once again increasing.

The inequalities, the injustice, the violence, hatred and greed seem to continue unabated.

And yet, in this same week, we saw David Cameron’s government do a U-turn on cutting disability benefits; a WHO report highlighted that the proportion of British 15 year olds who reported having their first cigarette at age 13 fell from 24% to 17% from 2009-2010 to 2013-2014; and the House of Lords voted to amend the immigration bill in order to require the government to allow 3,000 unaccompanied child refugees into our country.

In spite of the darkness, there is always reason to hope.

There is always hope

 

Good Friday

Yesterday, I sat in silence and tears for our Good Friday service; angry still at the injustice of our world.

Like many other good men and women, Jesus was assassinated because he dared to confront the unjust powers of his day. He walked the road of non-violent confrontation, and it cost him his life. Others, too have been imprisoned, tortured, and killed for speaking out for justice and peace: one only has to think of people such as Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Mahatma Gandhi, Oscar Romero, or Aung San Suu Kyi.

 

When I wake tomorrow, 2,000 years after Jesus gave his life, the injustice will still be there. So, too, will the terror, hatred, greed, violence, and the untold suffering of millions around our world.

So I will still be angry.

But I will also carry with me a ray of hope.

mountains sunrise cropped

Easter Day

If (and I accept that for many this is a huge ‘if’) Jesus truly did rise from the dead as the gospels tell us, then there really is hope. The resurrection of Jesus boldly proclaims that violence, suffering, injustice and greed do not have the last word. That ultimately death itself is defeated and has no power.

So I will hold onto my anger, believing that this world should be different. And I will hold onto hope, believing that this world will one day be different. And I will celebrate the gift of love that is stronger than death.