Recently there have been a couple of news stories about people making insulting and threatening comments on twitter aimed at female equality campaigners. Twitter’s not the only platform on which this occurs; unfortunately this practice of ‘trolling’ appears to be an unpleasantly intrinsic part of the web. Yet this behaviour isn’t new, people have always been threaten and insulted. The difference now appears to be the anonymity of the action, an anonymity partly due to the distances involved, there is often no realistic expectation that the troll will ever be confronted in person by the one they are abusing. This isolation from those they interact with is allowing more people to feel unconstrained by the social norms developed over millennia of human interactions.
These social norms constrain us, explaining that not everything that goes on in our heads is ok to do in public, in the realms of speech it introduces politeness where there are certain things which it is simply unallowable to say, no matter whether that is what you believe. Yet if it is our social conventions that constrain us where does the desire to say something abusive come from? From our own nature?
In the Bible, the tongue is compared to the rudder of a boat, though it is only a small part, it can steer a vast vessel. So too what we say so often turns into actions whether or not that was our original intent. For instance consider how an argument starts, simply with words yet it could result in actions – saying something you didn’t really mean that destroys a relationship entirely. Whilst we may see this, prescient like, an inertia takes hold and we continue on heedless of the irrevocable harm we may do. It is hard to control what we say all of the time – in fact biblical teaching is that it is impossible, the sarcastic comment in James “and if anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man…” perhaps sums it up best “…but no human being can tame the tongue.”
So if it is impossible, by human endeavour, to fully control everything that we say should we not be more forgiving in what is said. Particularly when a transitory comment becomes permanent through a lack of awareness of such issues inherent in the use of the internet. Personally I’m going to try and remove the plank from my own eye before calling others to account for what they say. I’m sure if someone played back to me every word that I’ve said today then I would be sorely embarrassed.
Thursday, 1 August 2013
Wednesday, 31 July 2013
Words: A poem
Sitting, writing, thinking, making
Words congeal together.
Pondering the many mysteries
For hour after hour
Why the words so hesitant still,
Whilst thoughts flow unencumbered.
Why the need to strive and will,
To voice those thoughts unnumbered.
Transitory thoughts of this and that,
Of things so great, so transcendental.
That if on that I thought all year,
Learning would be but incremental.
Not all thoughts so high exalted,
Humbler musings far abound.
Oft of matters unimportant,
Whirling in my mind around.
Yet still the words they fail to form,
The thoughts seem inward bound.
Chained and fettered in my mind
They strive to make a sound.
Words congeal together.
Pondering the many mysteries
For hour after hour
Why the words so hesitant still,
Whilst thoughts flow unencumbered.
Why the need to strive and will,
To voice those thoughts unnumbered.
Transitory thoughts of this and that,
Of things so great, so transcendental.
That if on that I thought all year,
Learning would be but incremental.
Not all thoughts so high exalted,
Humbler musings far abound.
Oft of matters unimportant,
Whirling in my mind around.
Yet still the words they fail to form,
The thoughts seem inward bound.
Chained and fettered in my mind
They strive to make a sound.
Tuesday, 30 July 2013
If Anything is Good...
If anything is good, think on such things. Is that what we do? Is that where our thoughts dwell? Personally I find this a huge challenge, so often my thoughts meander away from what is good towards what is not. A stray thought entices the mind to linger there, and so that stray thought grows, gnawing away at the determination not to think on such, until it is a stray thought no longer but has engulfed everything.
Why is it that a simple thought of something evil becomes a snare that so easily entangles whilst one must constantly strive to think on something good? I suspect that this difference reflects the fallen nature of humanity, that all have fallen short. That it is not in our strength or human nature to be truly good. Rather it is only possible to be good, to be holy, by putting off our old self and taking on a new nature, given as a gift. Putting on white robes cleansed through the blood of the paschal lamb and seeking after a new name engraved upon a white stone; a new name to express our new true humanity, to accompany the new song of the heart that we will sing. A transformation that is not completed when we dedicate ourselves to follow God, but rather a process that starts there. When it is finished, on that day, it will not be evil that entangles but rather it will be good that ensnares, and ensnares so thoroughly that there is not room for any other thought, and evil will have no foothold.
Why is it that a simple thought of something evil becomes a snare that so easily entangles whilst one must constantly strive to think on something good? I suspect that this difference reflects the fallen nature of humanity, that all have fallen short. That it is not in our strength or human nature to be truly good. Rather it is only possible to be good, to be holy, by putting off our old self and taking on a new nature, given as a gift. Putting on white robes cleansed through the blood of the paschal lamb and seeking after a new name engraved upon a white stone; a new name to express our new true humanity, to accompany the new song of the heart that we will sing. A transformation that is not completed when we dedicate ourselves to follow God, but rather a process that starts there. When it is finished, on that day, it will not be evil that entangles but rather it will be good that ensnares, and ensnares so thoroughly that there is not room for any other thought, and evil will have no foothold.
Sunday, 12 August 2012
Seeing: A poem
Seeing
What do we see when we look around?
The mountains, the trees, the lakes, the ground?
What do we see as we travel this road?
The swallows and swifts, the frog and toad?
How can we see while we bustle around?
Crowded and speeding through life’s vibrant sound.
What do we see when we look around?
The cars, the buildings, the concreted ground!
The swallows and swifts, the frog and toad?
How can we see while we bustle around?
Crowded and speeding through life’s vibrant sound.
What do we see when we look around?
The cars, the buildings, the concreted ground!
What do we see as we travel this road?
The trouble, the burden; our so heavy load!
The trouble, the burden; our so heavy load!
How can we see, around us so little?
Ignoring the awesome, the precious, the brittle.
Ignoring the awesome, the precious, the brittle.
It is time to stop and stare,
To shed the worry and the care.
Time to look around and see,
That oft forgotten tranquillity.
Time to see creation’s splendour,
Mighty, awesome, yet so tender.
Time to let that burden slip,
And from a new cup now to sip.
What do you see when you look around?
What do you see as you travel your road?
To shed the worry and the care.
Time to look around and see,
That oft forgotten tranquillity.
Time to see creation’s splendour,
Mighty, awesome, yet so tender.
Time to let that burden slip,
And from a new cup now to sip.
What do you see when you look around?
What do you see as you travel your road?
Wednesday, 11 April 2012
What am I? A poem

What am I, that I should be
Upon this earth at all?
That light should fall
And trees stand tall
Whilst I, alone, seem small.
What am I, that he should make me
With his potter’s hands?
And not reject me,
Not consign me
To the heap among the sands.
Who am I, that he should love me,
With a love so great?
A love forgiving,
A love redeeming,
A love that’s never late.
Who am I, that he should die
Upon a cross for me?
To take my place,
Undeserved grace
For a wretch to see.
Child, brother,
Friend, lover,
Such are names he calls.
What am I?
Who am I?
Abba, Father, I am yours!
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