Democracy - rule by the people - is at the heart of Western society. It is cherished as the most equitable form of government, and much effort is put into seeking to proselytise others to its cause. But do we fully understand it?
Yesterday the people of Scotland engaged in an exercise in democracy, as they were asked to respond to a simple question: did they still wish to be a part of the United Kingdom, or was it time for them to become an independent nation (again)? They decided by 55% to 45% to stay within the Union, much to the relief of the political establishment in Westminster and financial markets across the world.
One thing that struck me about the referendum was the way in which it captured the imagination of the Scottish people, in that 85% of them actively participated in the vote. Such a turnout has not been seen in UK politics for well over 60 years, and bucks the trend of apathy that seems to be sweeping through domestic politics. This got me thinking: why would this be the case?
Was it that this election was about an issue that most people could relate to and understand - a matter of national identity?
Was it that this election was about a single issue? This has proved successful in other elections, be it Martin Bell standing against the cash-for-questions sleaze, or UKIP making immigration the scapegoat for the nation's ills.
Was it that this election was more firmly about an issue rather than individuals and personalities, in a way that national elections increasingly are not - a fact reflected in the Leaders' debates during the 2010 election which led to the relative success of the Lib Dems. People tend to talk of voting for the party leader, rather than that party's particular policies: I'm not conscious of the 'Yes' campaign putting too much emphasis on Alex Salmond over against the principle of independence.
Referenda, being single-issue plebiscites, perhaps have a tendency to be better supported than other such polls, though it will be interesting to see, if and when the tentatively-promised 'in-out' referendum on Britain's continued membership of the EU happens, whether we see anything like the figures we saw in Scotland.
There does seem to be an increasing apathy towards organised politics in the UK. Turnout for the last General election in 2010 was 65.1%; for the last Local Government elections only 36%; and for the election of Police & Crime Commissioners a pitiful 15.1%. South Yorkshire will be holding a by-election shortly for its PCC, following the resignation of Sean Wright in the wake of the Rotherham Child abuse scandal: will the voters make an effort this time? We'll see.
From the time I turned 18, in that momentous year of 1979, I have always voted, and have always urged people to use their own vote. Compared to many countries, we have an enormous privilege in being able to have our say in the running of our nation and local communities. But in recent years I have found it increasingly difficult to decide where to place my 'X' on the ballot paper, and I recognise that others are showing their frustration with the system by simply opting out. There must be a way that we can find to enable more people to engage with the political process, but at the moment I'm at a loss to know what it might be, and I'm not sure whether the constitutional reforms hinted at by Cameron this morning will be the answer.
Friday, 19 September 2014
Tuesday, 9 September 2014
One Circuit for Sheffield: how goes it?
Just over a year ago, and after much discussion and deliberation, the Methodist church in Sheffield amalgamated its then eight circuits into one 'mega-circuit' covering the whole of the city, as well as parts of north Derbyshire around Dronfield. For anyone unfamiliar with the ways of Methodism, a circuit is a geographical grouping of churches around a team of ministers for the purposes of mutual support, encouragement, mission and worship. The 'new' Sheffield Circuit (how long will we continue to call it 'new'?) brings together 64 congregations with an ordained staff team of around two dozen and other lay staff in pastoral, missional and administrative roles.
The principal reason stated for bringing this huge edifice about was to enhance and enable the mission of the church throughout the city. How has it gone so far? What does it look like from the perspective of one of those ordained ministers?
In terms of the ordinary, day-to-day life of the local congregations for which I have responsibility, very little seems to have changed. Life and ministry goes on pretty much as it did before. There have been some different faces leading worship on occasions, but otherwise very little else is different. From my own perspective, I have preached in a number of different churches, as far north as High Green and as far south as Coal Aston.
One of the priorities of the new circuit has been to conduct a full and comprehensive review of all of the worshipping communities within the circuit over the course of 3 years. The first phase of this is drawing to a close and we wait to see what proposals come from this. I hope that this does not simply degenerate into finding reasons to persuade chapels to close - to 'rationalise our resources' - but that it takes bold decisions to enable the life and mission of the church to flourish where it can within the city by ensuring that the necessary resources are provided where and when they are needed.
For those 'involved' in the life of the circuit, there have been some obvious changes. Meetings are bigger (and have been considerably longer at times, due to residual business from the previous circuits), which can at times stifle debate and discussion, but new ways of doing business are being explored which hopefully can address this. Communication - particularly making those who have previously been involved in the strategic planning in the circuit as members of the Leadership Team aware of what is being planned/ discussed/ thought about - has been patchy at best, and many of us have felt disconnected from the life of the circuit. This is being addressed, and we wait to see how effective it will prove in helping the whole circuit to feel that it is involved in the future direction of the circuit. Much business, it seems, is still being driven by the four Co-Superintendents, though this may simply be my perception.
My primary concern with this large circuit is that it may very well lead to local churches becoming more detached from one another, as the 'centre' becomes large, nebulous and distant: that we will lose our essential Methodist connectedness in all but name. 'Circuit identity' has always been an issue throughout my 25 years of ministry, and this can only be exacerbated in a larger grouping. Our corporate acts of worship, to wave farewell to, and to welcome, ministers have been inspiring times, but there is a need to ensure that behind that celebratory facade there is an underlying unity holding it all together.
We have come some way in the last 12 months to beginning to achieve this: let's pray that we continue, otherwise this will simply become another machine draining resources from local mission rather than investing those resources in the life of God's Kingdom.
The principal reason stated for bringing this huge edifice about was to enhance and enable the mission of the church throughout the city. How has it gone so far? What does it look like from the perspective of one of those ordained ministers?
In terms of the ordinary, day-to-day life of the local congregations for which I have responsibility, very little seems to have changed. Life and ministry goes on pretty much as it did before. There have been some different faces leading worship on occasions, but otherwise very little else is different. From my own perspective, I have preached in a number of different churches, as far north as High Green and as far south as Coal Aston.
One of the priorities of the new circuit has been to conduct a full and comprehensive review of all of the worshipping communities within the circuit over the course of 3 years. The first phase of this is drawing to a close and we wait to see what proposals come from this. I hope that this does not simply degenerate into finding reasons to persuade chapels to close - to 'rationalise our resources' - but that it takes bold decisions to enable the life and mission of the church to flourish where it can within the city by ensuring that the necessary resources are provided where and when they are needed.
For those 'involved' in the life of the circuit, there have been some obvious changes. Meetings are bigger (and have been considerably longer at times, due to residual business from the previous circuits), which can at times stifle debate and discussion, but new ways of doing business are being explored which hopefully can address this. Communication - particularly making those who have previously been involved in the strategic planning in the circuit as members of the Leadership Team aware of what is being planned/ discussed/ thought about - has been patchy at best, and many of us have felt disconnected from the life of the circuit. This is being addressed, and we wait to see how effective it will prove in helping the whole circuit to feel that it is involved in the future direction of the circuit. Much business, it seems, is still being driven by the four Co-Superintendents, though this may simply be my perception.
My primary concern with this large circuit is that it may very well lead to local churches becoming more detached from one another, as the 'centre' becomes large, nebulous and distant: that we will lose our essential Methodist connectedness in all but name. 'Circuit identity' has always been an issue throughout my 25 years of ministry, and this can only be exacerbated in a larger grouping. Our corporate acts of worship, to wave farewell to, and to welcome, ministers have been inspiring times, but there is a need to ensure that behind that celebratory facade there is an underlying unity holding it all together.
We have come some way in the last 12 months to beginning to achieve this: let's pray that we continue, otherwise this will simply become another machine draining resources from local mission rather than investing those resources in the life of God's Kingdom.
Tuesday, 26 August 2014
Greenbelt 2014
Two years attending the Greenbelt Festival, and already I feel like a veteran! Two years: two venues, and two different yet similar experiences.
Last year's festival was held at Cheltenham Racecourse, and this had been the venue for a number of years. For many of the 'regulars', it felt like home, and the move to (literally) pastures new was a big wrench for some this year. Boughton House, near Kettering was, though, a perfect setting for this weekend of art, music, justice and spirituality. Perhaps the only downside to this beautiful greenfield site was the lack of anywhere where you could go to get really warm.
My approach to events such as this is not to try and do too much (it's very easy to do that, as the programme is so varied and full), and I set myself the goal of trying to get to listen to a couple of the speakers and a couple of the musical items, and anything else would be a bonus. It was a particular thrill to sit at the feet of American Pastor, theologian and prophet Brian McLaren - and to have an albeit brief conversation on two occasions, and also to hear first-hand from the challenging Nadia Bolz-Weber about the things that she is doing with her congregation in Denver, CO, 'The House for All Sinners and Saints'.
Sunday morning at Greenbelt features the huge open-air Communion, and this year's was a very moving occasion, as we sat and shared in groups around the massive Glade stage area, having listened to stirring testimony from Mpho Tutu and Becca Stevens. The juxtaposition of the corporate and the intimate is always moving.
Musically the big draw this year was the appearance on Sunday evening of Sinead O'Connor, and the Glade was absolutely packed for a performance full of energy and passion (though maybe the sound balance could've been a little better: from my vantage point at the back of the arena, safe in the environs of Greenbelt's own pub, the 'Jesus Arms', it wasn't always easy to make out what she was singing about.)
But Sinead wasn't my musical highlight. That accolade went to the Malian band Tinariwen, who closed the show on Monday evening with their particular blend of Saharan blues. What gave their performance that extra 'something' was the fact that by that point it had been raining solidly for nearly 24 hours and the site was quickly dissolving into a mud-bath. Saharan blues in pouring rain - wonderful!
The music, the teaching, the new foods to try (I don't know many other places where Goan Fish curry and Tibetan beef stew are readily available), the camping, the opportunities to meet up with old friends and to make new ones, and the chance to have ones views and opinions tested, challenged and changed, all make Greenbelt an event which has quickly and firmly established itself in my calendar. Why not join us next year?
Last year's festival was held at Cheltenham Racecourse, and this had been the venue for a number of years. For many of the 'regulars', it felt like home, and the move to (literally) pastures new was a big wrench for some this year. Boughton House, near Kettering was, though, a perfect setting for this weekend of art, music, justice and spirituality. Perhaps the only downside to this beautiful greenfield site was the lack of anywhere where you could go to get really warm.
My approach to events such as this is not to try and do too much (it's very easy to do that, as the programme is so varied and full), and I set myself the goal of trying to get to listen to a couple of the speakers and a couple of the musical items, and anything else would be a bonus. It was a particular thrill to sit at the feet of American Pastor, theologian and prophet Brian McLaren - and to have an albeit brief conversation on two occasions, and also to hear first-hand from the challenging Nadia Bolz-Weber about the things that she is doing with her congregation in Denver, CO, 'The House for All Sinners and Saints'.
Sunday morning at Greenbelt features the huge open-air Communion, and this year's was a very moving occasion, as we sat and shared in groups around the massive Glade stage area, having listened to stirring testimony from Mpho Tutu and Becca Stevens. The juxtaposition of the corporate and the intimate is always moving.
 |
| Communion in the sunshine |
Musically the big draw this year was the appearance on Sunday evening of Sinead O'Connor, and the Glade was absolutely packed for a performance full of energy and passion (though maybe the sound balance could've been a little better: from my vantage point at the back of the arena, safe in the environs of Greenbelt's own pub, the 'Jesus Arms', it wasn't always easy to make out what she was singing about.)
But Sinead wasn't my musical highlight. That accolade went to the Malian band Tinariwen, who closed the show on Monday evening with their particular blend of Saharan blues. What gave their performance that extra 'something' was the fact that by that point it had been raining solidly for nearly 24 hours and the site was quickly dissolving into a mud-bath. Saharan blues in pouring rain - wonderful!
 |
| Tinariwen in the rain |
The music, the teaching, the new foods to try (I don't know many other places where Goan Fish curry and Tibetan beef stew are readily available), the camping, the opportunities to meet up with old friends and to make new ones, and the chance to have ones views and opinions tested, challenged and changed, all make Greenbelt an event which has quickly and firmly established itself in my calendar. Why not join us next year?
Tuesday, 22 July 2014
Yes - Heaven and Earth
With news of the tour also came word of a new album being produced: news which heightened my anticipation for the coming year. How would the new material stack up against the classic repertoire? And how would it compare to the recent 'Fly From Here', which had met with a mixed response from critics and fans alike following its release in 2011.
When I reviewed 'Fly From Here' someone commented that Glass Hammer's 'If' was a better Yes album. If they were correct, would the inclusion of Glass Hammer's vocalist Jon Davison to the band in place of the short-lived Benoit David produce something more to the liking of the fans? From many of the reviews that have already appeared for this new album it would seem not to be the case, and I'm still struggling to understand why.
Davison has writing credits for all but one of the songs, therefore his imprint is on the music from the off. The opener 'Believe Again' promises much for the rest of the album, and there is much in this song for Yes fans to latch on to. The Yes Choir is evident and Davison brings much of Jon Anderson's style to the lyrics and delivery, but I felt there was more of an Asia fell to the song overall than a Yes one. Sadly that promise fails to materialise as the album proceeds. 'The Game' is just flat pop-rock, reminiscent for me of early Police, and 'Step Beyond', the second Howe/ Davison composition after 'Believe Again', really disappoints with its twee, twiddly keyboards and flat rhythm: it simply lacks substance and is too long. 'To Ascend', which gives Alan White a writing credit alongside Davison, is a safe ballad with some nice interplay between guitar, bass and strings and the spirit of Jon Anderson in lyrics which speak of 'the eyes of a child', whereas 'In a World of our Own' seemed to me to be an out-take from Squackett's 2012 'A Life Within A Day'. 'Light of the Ages' offers some slightly more inventive drumming and guitar work which is a lot more evocative of the classic Yes sound in its opening couple of minutes, and I was beginning to think that maybe things were looking up. Sadly the song quickly loses the plot. 'It Was All We Knew' is the only track not to feature Jon Davison as a writer, being a Steve Howe composition. It opens with the feel of Stealer's Wheel's 'Stuck in the Middle with You' mixed with the tune of 'My Grandfather's Clock', has some nice harmonies throughout with Davison not so prominent in the mix, and a pleasant rocking riff mid-way through. The final track, and the longest at 9:03, is 'Subway Walls', the only song for which Geoff Downes is given a writing credit. It opens with strings reminiscent to me of some of Karl Jenkins' work, and is overall the nearest to progressive rock that this collection gets: if the rest of the album could have reached this standard, we might have had a very different animal.
My overall impression is, sadly, one of intense disappointment. 'Heaven & Earth' doesn't leave me feeling uplifted in the way that some Yes music can and does. The recurring word seems to be 'flat': this is uninspiring and on the whole uninspired music, with little invention evident. The long(ish) songs that bookend the set show glimpses of what might have been. Maybe the band were too keen to get something out there and should have spent a little more time working on their ideas, though I appreciate that the constraints of touring limited the amount of studio time available. There is talk of more new material being around and a further album/ albums to come from this line-up. I hope, if that is the case, that they will give the material the time it needs, otherwise (and it saddens me to write this) it may be time to call time on this seminal progressive band.
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