Friday, 28 January 2011
Hope for the Future
Tuesday, 11 January 2011
Guilford Faith and Environment Course
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| From Reflections of a Curlew |
Tonight (12th January) I am giving the opening talk at a series on Christianity and the environment organised by St Joseph's Catholic Church in Guilford. The essence of my talk is here. This blog can be used by anyone who would like to comment on what is said tonight (and for anyone else).
The earth is held in the love of God, it reflects God’s presence into our lives everyday. Cherishing and caring for this most wondrous of planets, and celebrating this great gift is at the heart of Catholic Christianity. And never has the time been more right to bring that belief once more into the centre of our lives. Now is the time to act for our future, the future of all our children and the future of creation itself.
“We are now to the point where we have lost ½ the world’s forests, ½ of the world’s wetlands and ½ the world’s grasslands. We are systematically eradicating habitats that make up the world’s ecosystems.”
James Leape, Head of WWF International
“If the religious people of the world, who of course make up the vast majority of people, were to become interested in saving biodiversity, which is after all the creation, and make it part of religious faith then they might be able to join scientists in an alliance and actually save what is left of life on earth”
Professor E.O. Wilson, Harvard
"The fate of the creatures which share our planet lies entirely at the hand of mankind - it is within our power to protect them or watch them become extinct. Let us choose the first route."
Sir David Attenborough
"The sun, the moon and the stars would have disappeared long ago, had they happened to be within reach of predatory human hands"
Havelock Ellis
Sound of Many Waters, a year long series of events held at Clifton Cathedral, was the result of a lecture I gave there in 2005 called The Pope and the Iceberg. That first talk challenged the Catholic Church to take seriously its role in protecting the earth from greed and exploitation. As a documentary Producer at the BBC’s Natural History Unit for 20 years, and a Catholic, it had become a burning issue. I want to see the Church act to protect what is an astonishing planet, but I want it to act not just because we are increasingly discovering the extent of the ecological crisis, but because it is the right thing to do – it is the honour and the duty of the Church to promote sustainable living that respects all the natural world.
To Catholics the earth is sacramental; God is revealed in creation. Catholicism is an incarnational religion that believes the creator of the universe became human and lived on earth. Catholicism is intricately bound to matter and life and therefore protection and care for the earth should be central to Catholic teaching and practice. Sound of Many Waters was therefore an attempt to show how our many and varied relationships with nature can be expressed in our faith tradition.
Yet there seems to be uncertainty about our relationship with nature. The reason I have this impression about the Church is because over the last few years I have been asking a particular question based on a personal experience. About fifteen years ago I went to the high Arctic to film a rare species of duck called a Spectacled Eider. This rather bizarre bird lives out its whole life above the Arctic Circle and even over-winters sitting in the middle of the frozen Baring Sea. It is a quite extraordinary and awe-inspiring little duck.
I stayed on a remote island and filmed a female brood her clutch of eggs and then watched the ducklings waddle off into the Arctic Ocean to begin their mysterious lives out of the way of human influence. Very few people see Spectacled Eiders and so this was a great privilege. A few years later I telephoned the man who owned the island to ask how the ducks were doing and his news was deeply shocking. The year after I left he went back again to check on the four females that regularly nest on his island. All four had been shot sitting on the nest. No one had taken the bodies for food, they hadn’t used the feathers or the eggs; they had been shot simply for being ducks in America. I put the phone down and wept, not just for the wickedness of the people who had carried out this callous act of violence but for the senseless loss of magnificent creatures.
My question to lay Catholics, religious and the Church hierarchy alike is this – If Christ had been walking over that island and found those dead ducks, would he have wept? Not just for the people who had killed animals, but for the loss of the ducks themselves? Overwhelmingly the answer to that question from the lay community is yes, but the hierarchy is split, with many saying no – the reason given is Christ wouldn’t weep over that which is not human.
This story illustrates my point that there is confusion about our relationship with nature, and as long as this remains there will be little incentive to act as a Church. Therefore it is time to decide for ourselves what the natural world really means to us, how we can put that belief into practice and how we can be visionaries for others.
How can we be agents for change in this world of consumerism? How can the Christian well spring of joy and hope be brought to the environmental table, along with the gifts of the Holy Spirit - courage, wisdom, temperateness? How can the Option for the Poor and the Common Good be what dirves the decisions we make about the future of the planet?
“Not in the midst of life’s tumult, nor in the world of pleasures round, does God show himself, but in the inspiration of nature, grace, light as a breath of fresh air, in a still small voice”
St Jerome
Monday, 3 January 2011
Death By Chocolate - a short story
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| From Reflections of a Curlew image by ed g2s |
Ok - it is a gross story but it is based on a true incident that happened when I worked as an auxiliary nurse in a geriatric ward in Stoke-on-Trent, many years ago now. I wrote it for a competition so it had to have this title.
For audio version see my Short Shorts page on my website. It is read by Alison Sterling.
Yum - enjoy
Death By Chocolate
Susan stared despondently at her half grapefruit, slice of whole-wheat toast and black coffee, day two of her diet and it was unrelentingly awful. Not that she was very large, not really, but she decided to try yet again to lose weight after Maggie, 93 and long term resident of the geriatric ward she worked on, had said jovially “You’ll have no trouble getting a man nurse, nothing wrong with you a pair of corsets wouldn’t put right.”
It wasn’t that she craved lots of food, just sweet things now and then like a nibble of a biscuit with coffee, a thin slice of cake with afternoon tea and a small scoop of ice cream with chocolate sauce while watching TV in the evening. How could such tiny quantities pile on the pounds? She remembered last night’s Weight Watchers meeting and the golden rule: “Always be honest about what you eat!” She sighed for the 5th time that morning - and it was only quarter past six: “well perhaps not always such small nibbles” Susan loved life and loved food - oh why couldn’t the two go together? Can you really be happy and thin?
Matron of the geriatric ward was a good soul but strict about cleanliness; what with all the deadly viruses in hospitals these days, she was right to insist on it. Ignoring her gurgling stomach Susan listened to the morning briefing. The usual bed-baths, toileting and tidying the ward had to be done well, along with organising the arrival of new patients and the departures of those going home. Mr O’Nions was off today “it may sound amusing nurse but we have a coat of arms you know”. And Mr Blake was leaving after a stay of 4 weeks. Mr Blake intrigued Susan.
Mr Blake - he objected to being called by his Christian name Sidney - was 85 and very thin. He had cold, watery eyes and there were no laughter lines to hint at any joy in earlier life. “Morning Mr Blake, off today I see,” chirped Susan. But as usual she was met with a stare that would stop a clock. “Now, I’m going to give your son a sheet of paper with instructions on food. You make sure you eat lots of fruit and vegetables. We need to sort out your constipation.” “That’s right Sidney” said the ever-homely Ethel, an auxiliary nurse who had worked on this ward for years. “If you keep pooing like a sheep it means you are not eating the right food and drinking enough water! You don’t want to see those little balls. You want soft ones deary.” Lovely way with words had Ethel.
A wave of compassion came over Susan, even though she couldn’t find much to like about Mr Blake. Why no sense of humour or conversation? What had happened in his life to make him so rigid and blocked? Presumably once he’d been a happy toddler, a hormone filled teenager and a young man with a passion for life? After all he had a son. But it was hard to imagine him holding hands, let alone making love. She perched on the side of his bed and gently touched his thin forearm. “Look after yourself now Mr Blake, I hope you’re feeling better.” He jerked away with unnecessary force and shot her a look so full of disdain she almost cried.
At 11.00 am Derek Blake arrived to take his father home. He bought the ward a large box of Maltesers as a thank you. “Damn! My favourite” thought Susan and almost resented him for his kindness.
Susan watched the thin, bent-over figure of Mr Blake leave without a word or a glance at anyone. Matron opened the box of Maltesers. “Now this really is torture,” thought Susan, but remembered Clarisse from Weight Watchers – “a minute on the lips a lifetime on the hips ladies!” “Distract yourself Susan, distract yourself.”
She went over to Mr Blake’s empty bed and started to strip the sheets and clear out his locker. “My goodness, a small box of Maltesers! Perhaps he does have a wild side after all,” called Susan to Ethel, waving the red box. Ethel was crunching on yet another sweet, honeycomb jewel smothered in milk chocolate. The balls of delight rattled in the box, demanding her attention. “Bless him - hard soul that one," said Ethel "something turned him. But I did see him eating maltesers the other day. He dropped the box and they went all over the floor, you wouldn’t believe how far a ball of chocolate can roll. Derek bought him some more.” Susan held the unopened box and her fingers lingered over the cellophane wrapper just a little too long, but eventually she gave it to Ethel; it could be added to the gift, no point in sending it back.
This diet was getting harder and harder. How she craved just one chocolate covered crunchy sweet – just one – she felt her resolve waning.
Susan continued to clean around and under the bed. To her surprise she found a few maltesers on the floor, right at the back by the wall, left over from when he dropped the box no doubt. Her hands, protected by disposable gloves reached for one. It was small, round and sat prettily in the palm of her hand and looked delicious in the dim light under the bed. The chocolate cover seemed a little dry, but chocolate can go dull. She’d eaten plenty in her time and it tasted just as good. A fierce battle commenced. The floor under the bed was clean, thanks to Matron, the malteser was only dropped recently so perhaps a little dusty but it would still be fine, so what harm would one do?
Mantras from Weight Watchers flooded back as she stared at temptation “Food Does Not Control Me” “Fat is Not Funny” and so on. But her hand moved ever closer to her mouth. “Stop before it is too late Susan!” she screamed to herself. But she was out of control. The urge for sugar was overwhelming and as she put the small, brown piece of sin up to her mouth Ethel called out – “Oh – and look out for some of Mr Blake’s sheep droppings, I tipped his bed pan over yesterday.”