As Stephen has pointed out, it’s nearly November. Which makes it NaBloPoMo time again.
I’ve had a go at this for the last couple of years, and I’ve been talking a lot recently about how I want to write more, so here we go again.
You’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t you?
I’m quite glad the clocks go back tonight.
The plan had been for us to by now be pleasantly settled in central Scotland for a week of visiting friends. The weather, in its interaction with ferry services, decreed otherwise. Now we’re (hopefully) on a boat at half seven in the morning. Getting a spot on that boat entails being at the port as early as possible — hence my eager anticipation of that extra hour.
We called down to the port this afternoon to check out which sailing we’d have the best chance of getting on. The young lady behind the desk was on the receiving end of some astonishing abuse, as if the delays and cancellations were down to her whim rather than that of the wind. She looked quite relieved when I was perfectly happy to go away and come back tomorrow.
I appreciate the frustration of not knowing when you’ll get home, but why take it out on the messenger? To her credit, she remained calm and civil throughout. Me, I’m happy to be sure the weather isn’t too much for the boat I’m riding.
Do me a favour: play nice out there.
I am not poor. In fact, by any sensible measure, I am a very, very long way from it. If you’re reading this then the odds are pretty good that you, too, are a fair way from poor. The technology that mediates between us all but guarantees it.
Three-and-some years ago I took part, with thousands upon thousands of others, in the makepovertyhistory march through the streets of Edinburgh. I’m sorry to say that by now my pride at being there is tempered by the fact that most of what I remember about that weekend was the carnival atmosphere. Surely that’s the wrong thing to recall? It was easy for us to participate; we were living in Edinburgh and it cost us little more than a couple of quid for the bus into town. We know others who travelled from all over the UK and beyond, determined to make a statement.
Perhaps that’s worth remembering? 225,000-odd people were motivated enough about an issue to ride for hours in ferries and coaches.
That was more than three years ago. Money is very much in the news again as our credit-based economy starts to judder a little. It’s been said, I can’t remember where, that most of us are only a month or two’s pay cheque away from poverty. That’s probably true — I know what our finances are like.
It hasn’t happened yet.
We’re still rich: we have a roof over our heads, cars in the drive, mobile phones, laptops, games consoles… I don’t understand what it’s like to not have food, shelter, warmth. I’ve never been there, and I hope I never will. Not everyone can say that, and they’re not all too far from home, either.
What can one person do? Little things, I guess. Give money, consume responsibly and thoughtfully, campaign loudly and persistently, learn about how the world works and how the world doesn’t work, learn about what goes on in your own village/town/city. You’ll be surprised.
When you learn, please let yourself be moved.
(If you’re in Northern Ireland, I can point you to some folks who are always glad of a hand. I have the privilege of getting to spend time with women and men who are completely dedicated to tackling the the flaws and consequences of how this society works.)
Tomorrow is Blog Action Day 2008, when (as I write this) 8626 bloggers have signed up to post on the theme of poverty. The idea is to raise awareness of issues and to spark discussion (although does that make “Blog Action Day” a slight misnomer?).
I added this site to the list what seems like a very long time ago, although I’m sure it’s only been a couple of months, if that. I think it’s fair to ask why. After all, I have asked and will continue to ask about the inherent disconnection between online conversations (and often those in the media in general) and what goes on IRL — at least or most especially in those real lives most intimately acquainted with poverty and all its consequences and other attendant issues.
Yet reflection-out-loud and an attempt to generate some discussion can’t hurt, so tomorrow I propose to reflect a little on the intersection between my own life (middle-class, male, white) and questions of poverty, both global and local. Please join in the conversation, either here, on your own blog, or on one of the eight-thousand-and-some others participating.
Let’s talk.
Right. I’ll go now and finish eating my lunch.
Spotted in various shops around Belfast, laminated sheets of A4 with a phrase printed in a lengthy list of different languages.
The phrase? “Thieves will be prosecuted.”
Welcome to Belfast.
As I was catching up on my reading yesterday morning, Brodie’s post remembering the vice-principal of our Bible college popped up in my feed reader. It stopped me in my tracks.
Think of someone you know who has an overwhelming enthusiasm and knowledge of something they’re really into. That was Ted Herbert. He was a lecturer in Old Testament at ICC, and his classes — and the man himself — were easily the best thing about the college during my time there.
Ted took what could easily, and often does, become a very dry, uninteresting subject, and he made it dance and sing. He knew his stuff and he communicated it with the kind of joy that every teacher should have, however few actually do. He left me with a new love for the Old Testament that has only grown since.
More than that, though, Ted was a friend to many more students than to me. Often as not he’d be spending his lunchtime in the common room plating table tennis with the students, usually winning but always gracious.
At a retreat earlier this year, I was asked who has inspired me. It was my Old Testament lecturer. I hadn’t heard that he was sick until I read Brodie’s post — I have learned since that he was diagnosed with cancer only a month and a half before he died this week.
If you have a listen to his message to the students at ICC (on YouTube), you’ll learn a great deal about the man: grace, peace, but most of all, joy.
One of God’s best.