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Laughing at religion

Is it okay to make fun of religion? Last night I watching a programme about the life of Irish comedian Dave Allen. I grew up watching his shows and loved his humour. Dave was brought up a Catholic, moved to the UK where he began life as a comic, initially starting as a Red Coat at Butlins where he performed with others on stage.

Dave’s home life in Ireland seemed very free but the Catholic Church dominated at school. Dave was a free-thinker, something the church didn’t approve of! His comedy shows were littered with jokes, monologues and sketches about religion, particularly the Catholic Church.  Some of these jokes got him into trouble with the viewing public but I never found them offensive.

The Catholic Church has come under fire a lot over the last few years due to abuses to children. The ‘old’ Church was narrow minded and far from being what I would call Christian. Their views and teaching were dogmatic and cruel. I think they messed up the minds of many children who were taught to obey without question or go to hell. I have never had a lot of time for the Catholic Church. They seemed blinkered and not ‘of this world’ at all. Latin American Catholics saw their religion differently. That has been a stumbling block for the Church of Rome but the new Pope seems different.  I like what I see and I think he will be good for the Catholic Church. He seems far more in touch with ordinary people and says some profound things.

I’ve got a little away from my earlier question but I needed a background to work against.  Humour can be quite liberating. In Dave Allen’s case he used his experiences to show some of the hypocrisy of the Church  as well as to see the funny side of life. I don’t believe he was out to insult anyone.  It was all done in great fun and I was never aware that he crossed any lines.  I guess for the times he was active on TV (60-80’s) times were different and perhaps it was a step too far for a few but I also remember watching TV comedy that was racially prejudice using negative language that would be censored today. When I look back on that I am appalled I ever found those programmes funny. These days I cringe at them.

I am not suggesting that we should make derogatory comments about any religion but we should be able to laugh at ourselves and come off our high horse by looking at the world, including religion, from a lighter side. Of course there  is always a line you shouldn’t cross.  Then again, people have different views on where that line is!

I was walking up our high street yesterday and there were two men spouting off, trying to get attention for their views. I didn’t hear all they said but one thing stuck….Jesus was not a member of the Church of England. There was something about Jesus not having anything to do with religion. I think they had a good point! Religion is man made – we made the rules, the hierarchy and much else. Yes, we formed it from the teachings of Jesus but I wonder….if Jesus returned today what would he think? What would he say about what man has done in his name, how the Church has abused their position, gone to war supposedly in his name. Much is done using the name of Jesus/God. Maybe that is religion but it’s not faith – it’s not what Jesus meant.

Back to humour. I cannot speak for other religions.  There have been controversial issues over things said about Islam in humour.  I often think that Muslims find Christians a bit airy-fairy and uncommitted in their faith. They may have a point at times. There seem few Muslim comedians, though the Jewish are quite happy to laugh at themselves and are quite happy to debate faith. They are free-thinkers too. That’s what we should be. Anyone who tells you that this is the way to do it, that is what you think or are not willing to share with you their belief system unless you are a member is not worth listening to. People need to search for themselves, read, learn, observe,  experience and come to their own conclusion.

Sorry, this is a bit of ramble and only my view which has been rolling around in my head. Hopefully some of you will get where I’m coming from!




Today is the first day of the Advent season. We light the Advent candle. We wait.

The Church you inherit

A tapestry containing the history of St Albans Cathedral, Hertfordshire, UK

A tapestry containing the history of St Albans Cathedral, Hertfordshire, UK

A lot of people I’ve met inherit their church from their parents, well those whose parents attend church.  They go to Sunday School and seem to give their life to God when they are quite young.  Even though they may have a period when they drift they drift back to church and probably attend a church similar to the one they grew up in.

For me it wasn’t like this (and I apologise if I’m about the repeat something I’ve said in the past).  As a young child I didn’t go to church or Sunday School. However, at school we began each morning with an assembly with prayers and hymns and we ended each day with a prayer.  This was not a church school but in those days all school functioned this way in the UK – the period I’m talking about is the 1960’s and 1970’s.  We had religious education in primary school but all I remember from those days is being confused between who Jesus was and who God was.  For me they were separate people and it was Jesus who mattered. I also remember the pictures we had of Jesus on the wall – white, serene, nice looking but I had no feeling either way about him.

In secondary school religious education was more about people like Martin Luther King and I actually enjoyed learning in RE classes, though our unruly class made if difficult to learn anything as the poor teacher could not keep control.

When I was probably somewhere in my pre-teens my parents suddenly decided to attend church.  Pre-teens, the rebellious period!  We went to several churches as my mother began looking for a church she felt at home in.  I didn’t really feel at home in any and went to great lengths to let her know this!  Some of this  was pure defiance and I purposely switched off in services and longed for it to end so I could go.  I remember we once attended the United Reform Church (then called the Congregational Church) but my mother considered it too low church. I preferred it because we did lots of singing and the liturgy was minimal!  But for some time we went to an Anglican church and this was where boredom set in big time.  Eventually she chose a church – Anglican and very high.  I was then older and stopped going to church altogether except for the Nine Lessons and Carols at Christmas which I loved and still do.

I should pause here and say that when growing up and again this would have been pre-teens, I remember my brother and I had a Christmas story book with the lessons and carols in it and each year we would read it all out.  I even remember playing at being a vicar, which seems a strange occupation for a child! Anyway, you can see that some things are handed down and remembered and stick with you in life.  My mother in fact had a very strong faith and my father had been a choir boy.

As an adult my mother ‘feared for my soul’ because I wasn’t confirmed.  I think she despaired of me.  She’d always try to get me to services on Sunday mornings saying I’d like the sermon because the vicar spoke about nature and things I’d like!  Actually the sermons were usually the best part, she wasn’t wrong on that. But I wasn’t interested so my Sunday mornings were washing up the breakfast things while everyone else went to church.

I always said I’d never marry in church and be hypocritical – ah famous last words!  Of course I married in church and in my mother’s church.  In the end I knew it was right.  My husband and I even attended some Evensong services after we married but it all tailed off but after the birth of our first child we began going again because we wanted him baptised.  It was also during this time that I was really lonely and was recovering from post natal depression.  My mother suggested I attend a pram service at church. For once I listened to her I did go and from that time on I became a regular at my church and gradually joined in with things and to my mother’s great delight I was confirmed! I had found God for myself.

My church in those days was more vibrant – there were lots of groups you could join, outings and Bible Study.  My kids went to Sunday School until my eldest was about eleven and then he stopped so the younger one stopped too (because Daddy doesn’t go so why should I!) Ah! things coming back to haunt me!  I felt very alone for a while without my kids but there was still a lot going for church and I was involved in various things at there.

But over the years things have changed.  The older ones in the congregations are unable to do what they used to, many have died and there aren’t any people willing to take things on.  We have got set in our ways and are stuck in the past. Virtually all the groups have faded out.  There is nothing for children apart from Sunday School and hasn’t been really since I’ve been going and there are no Bible study groups. Technology has passed us by.  I used to feel great when I left church – I don’t anymore.  I don’t know whether it’s due to the way my church seems to be crumbling or whether it is my faith.  I can’t seem to separate them from one another.

Most of my friends go to my church.  That’s where a lot of my social life has been. Leaving seems unthinkable which is why I have this huge dilemma. Writing about it helps me to see the background to my faith even if I can’t yet see a way forward.  I still run a group which has nearly 30 members, which when I think about it is huge considering we are almost the last group to survive, but only ever a maximum of five members ever come to meetings, though I can call on others for help when I am planning the lunches at our church fairs.  I have two more years of leadership in that group and then I must stand down. I fear for that group as I don’t think at the moment there is anyone able or willing to take it on.

Over the last couple of years I have had moments of energy in my faith/church and moments of despair with faith and church.  I even considered whether to just bow out and forget God but I can’t.  The idea of abandoning it all is a dark tunnel I don’t want to enter.  I can’t imagine giving it all up.  Even when I’m fed up with everything I find myself visiting churches when I’m up in London or away on holiday.  I am drawn to learning and studying about religion and other faiths and I read many books about both.  I’m still drawn to the Celtic way of life which if I look at my past should be no surprise as nature and being good to the earth and all in it – humans, animals and everything else – has always been very strong in me since I was a child.

But what I actually believe has become confused.  At the very least my instinct to help others, my strong feelings for the earth are still there.  If I take everything else away those feelings remain.

I would be interested to hear from others on what I have said. Meanwhile, having seen what other churches offer I may have to split my time between churches. I still think of my church as home but it is not enough.  It was once but now as I read what I have just written I feel my church has just lost it’s direction and though I like our vicar and his sermons are brilliant I don’t think he is the one who will lead us out of the hole I think we are in.  I know I am not the only one who has doubts about our church  but I’m not sure anyone has the strength to change things.


For a long time now I have been struggling with my church and my faith.  After a particularly stressful summer (nothing to do with church!) I attended a weekend retreat on The Celtic Christ.  Maybe I wasn’t in the best of moods but I didn’t really integrate with the group very well.  I am sometimes a loner and need to be on my own at times but the weekend didn’t turn out quite how I imagined it.  I did enjoy the worship, being Celtic in nature.  I find it very much to my liking. I guess what struck me was that everyone seemed to have such a strong faith and their churches were doing so much.  I mulled this over and (this is me getting paranoid) I felt a bit of an outsider.  My faith flounders and my church doesn’t help.  I did speak to a couple of people about this (about my church rather than my faith) including the leader of the retreat.  He said was just having friends at church enough? !

I had a lot on my mind coming away from that retreat and I let it sit there.  I felt really unhappy at the prospect of changing churches but I realised something had to change.  The following Sunday I attended another church which is a bus ride away (I wanted to go somewhere where no one would know me and I’d looked at their website many times and thought it would suit me).

My feelings on attending the church were very mixed.  It certainly began to open my eyes to what is out there.  I enjoyed their style of worship very much.  Though Anglican, the liturgy was simple and they sang some worship songs.  That particularly week was schools week.  They have links with two schools and being the start of the new academic year they invite children and parents to the service.  So the church was full and very lively.  I loved it that the children were so involved in the service.  It was a nice service.  On the other hand I felt totally alone (though I reminded myself that God was there so I wasn’t totally alone!).  No one spoke to me but then I didn’t really want anyone to (told you I was in a weird mood).  I didn’t feel I belonged there.  It didn’t feel right.  I argued with myself that of course I wouldn’t feel at home as I was new and all my friends were sitting in my own church.  That didn’t help!

I spoke to a friend about it later that day.  She asked if I felt better.  I said ‘a bit’ but actually I didn’t.  I felt dreadfully unsettled and guilty.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do now but I attended my own church the following week and of course it felt like home even if the service was staid.  I was still in a quandary.

The following week I was due to attend another church for a commissioning service of a deanery leader of an organisation I belong to.  This was her local church.  I’d been there before when she was commissioned the first time round, three years ago and I had enjoyed the service a lot.  This time we were warned that this would be like ‘no other service they did’.  It was, but refreshing.  Totally geared to families, no communion and the vicar played keyboard, sang and all the songs were worship songs and very lively!  Indeed during the final song the children were given bells, tambourines and other shakey things to accompany the song.

I was told by the vicar that since they introduced the service they were getting Dad’s attend and numbers had risen 30%.  It was a once a month service but it was working.  They have so much going for them.  It’s a much smaller church than mine but very friendly.  They had vision in that church.  Something sadly lacking in my own.

During all these unsettling feelings something happened.  Suddenly it was as if God was giving me permission to go and enjoy myself, attend other churches, see for myself.  Immediately after that I felt so much calmer.  I haven’t made any huge decision still.  There is much I need to ponder on. Sadly this is where I must end for now – I have to go out!  But I’ll be back!


My youngest son rolled home at 3am this morning and then I was wide awake.  Soon it was getting light and the birds began to sing.  Sometime after 4am I got up, made a cup of tea and watched the sun rise.  What a gorgeous morning which has turned into a gorgeous day.  It’s now 6pm and I’m still awake though I’m not sure the brain is quite functioning!

God made two great lights – the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars (Gen 1:16)

God’s whispers and an art exhibition

Recently I read The Power of a Whisper by Bill Hybels.  Some of the chapters really make me think.  The first one pointed out that God has always spoken to people the The Bible both in  the Old Testament and the New and then there was a chapter with testaments from Hybels congregation  of their  ‘whispers ‘ from God and the way they were described made me realise that I had experienced instances too, which I had either acted on or not, but had never considered them as being from God.  I always thought this was just my conscience or intuition telling me what to do and  giving me little nudges and that they were from me.  All this time I have been waiting for whispers from God and it looks like I’d been hearing from him all the time (well, now and then).  Perhaps now I will take more notice.  It occurred to me that I have been trying too hard and missing the obvious!

While this book was an eye opener I did struggle with some of the  chapters.  There were parts I felt were maybe a bit too overindulgent and palley  and being from the UK the Americanisms grated.  But  then the Americans might find us  rather staid  and prim!  I do think that churches in the US are a lot different to the UK.


After lunch today I went along to the retreat house where I spent a day in April.  The Sisters had organised an art exhibition by contemplative artists entitled Windows into the Heart and I very much wanted to see it.  On display was visual art, glass icons, poetry, paintings, clay sculpture and photography.  Each room had a different art.  Trying to pick a favourite isn’t easy.  I loved the paintings, so simple and peaceful.  The clay sculptures represented a different station of the cross.  The glass icons were so beautiful set up against the large windows so the light could shine through them and the photography was great too.  There were some books of poetry and a book of photos with a line from a Psalm.  Upstairs there was a very moving display of photos and poems about dying.

Going there today also gave me the opportunity to see the downstairs of the building which I didn’t really see on my first visit.  There is a lovely library, several rooms for meetings and a conservatory.  The gardens looked beautiful and as it was a hot day I sat in the shade for a little while before going back to the bus stop.  These are very talented ladies and the house was quiet and peaceful. It gave me a chance to unwind before tackling the hot and noisy journey home.

God Hunting – Simplicity (3)

This last week I have been looking at contentment as part of the simplicity chapter in God Hunting.  On the whole I would say that I am content.  I certainly don’t dwell on having the latest gadget, a huge house or tons of money.  I have always had a dream of owning a house by the sea – a holiday retreat but we all need dreams as long as they don’t become obsessions.  I’d also like a bigger kitchen and wish we had two rooms downstairs instead of the one (which was two rooms knocked into one before we moved in) but we get by and yes we could probably have a kitchen extension – we must be the only one in our road without one – but it only bugs me when two many people are in there at the same time (two is crowd!), Christmas (juggling plates and dishes) or we need an appliance fixed (if the washing machine goes wrong the repair man won’t have room to pull it out to get to the back and don’t think about turning it!  When we installed it we had to take all the drawers out of the units and the nobs off the cooker to squeeze it through – I was nearly in tears.  Next time it will have to be a slimline one – standards are too big).  Still at least I have a home and a washing machine and when you think about it I am so much better off than many in the world who have no home, little food and unclean water. Even here in the UK there are many sleeping on the streets and families struggling to get by each day.

We don’t tend to buy new things just for the sake of it – we wait for the old ones to break.  I watch house programmes on TV where they go and say ‘this kitchen needs a complete overhaul’ and I think why?  It looks perfectly okay and is bigger than my kitchen!  We have become pulled into the fashionable house  syndrome changing everything every few years.  The only thing I envy is how tidy some people’s homes are and no one here seems to realise how the ‘mess’ upsets me.  When things are tidy I feel more relaxed and that’s part of my personality, that it does affect me, but no one else understands and that gets to me at times and so my discontent is really down to the untidiness of those I live with and sometimes I long for a room to escape to which is totally mine and has no one else’s junk in it.  I don’t see how I can change that so I just live with it and I’m not sure that this comes into the discontent category but where else do I put it?

We did once consider moving but when we looked at properties we realised the third bedrooms, which is very small in ours, were actually smaller than what we already had!  We couldn’t afford much anyhow so we decided to stay where we are.  We shall probably be here forever as I have no real desire to move elsewhere.  If the kids EVER move out I might even get a room for myself!




Just For Laughs – Wednesday

God Hunting – Worship (2/3)

ImageSince I was last here the corporate worship side of things has been in overdrive.  During Holy week I attended a Maundy Thursday service (believe it or not this is the first time I’ve done this since becoming a Christian.  I’ve always put this one off).  This is where the vicar washes the feet of some of his parishioners (I didn’t offer myself for this).  The service is interesting because as always I like to know what is going on!  I can’t switch off that inquisitiveness in me.  It is a moving service but I am wide eyed watching everything.  At the end the church is stripped of candles, altar cloths, any sort of adornment.  Some people sit in vigil until midnight in the Lady Chapel.

The next morning I went on the silent walk of witness with people from other churches in my town.  We walked from one church down the high street (holding up the traffic) and congregated outside the local Methodist Church for a short service.  It was bitterly cold but the service was lovely.  In the afternoon I then attended a service called The Veneration of the Cross.  Again this is new to me. The Passion of Christ is read out. At one point everyone is invited to come forward and lay a flower or fruit at the cross which symbolises  the Tree of Life. I took some flowers from my garden.  After the services we went into the hall for refreshments of Hot Cross Buns with cheese (a delicacy from the north of England and rather nice).

Finally, I attended the Easter Sunday morning service which had all my favourite Easter hymns.  On Tuesday I was also at a ‘said’ Eucharist service for the women’s group I run. So I have been at church rather a lot!

My personal worship was harder.  I did a little more art and writing, listened to some worship songs and continued to try and learn those Bible passages.  I’m almost word perfect but I still have trouble with the Chapter numbers and verses and I wonder if that’s because I have a ‘number blindness’.  I’ve always struggled with numbers.  I nearly gave up but I am still trying.  I’ve only managed to add one more verse to the original seven but I really can’t see me getting much further.  Facts just don’t seem to go in this way.

Last time I said I would share some of my writing with you.  What I originally wrote wasn’t much good but I later wrote something that came out of some meditation and this I will share with you.

The Meeting

I meet Jesus for coffee.

We sit at a table overlooking my favourite beach.

I love it here, I say.

He smiles.  You like my work? He waves he arm across the vista.

You made a pretty neat job of it, I laugh.  Then more seriously, I wish people didn’t keep messing it up…your world.

That’s what people do, mess up.

Just as well we’ve got you!

Jesus looks at me.

And you, you need to spend more time with me.  You run around with your schedules and I sit here waiting.

Did he have to bring that up? I am silent for a while mulling this over.  Sorry, I’m not much of a friend, I say guiltily.

Jesus puts his hand on my arm. Just remember, I miss you.


I sit back and watch the sea.  The tide breathing in and breathing out.

Jesus clasps my fingers and we hold hands across the table.

I close my eyes. I feel the sun on my face.  He’s right.  I don’t sit with him enough.  My busyness blots out his voice.

Forgive me?  I ask

Jesus laughs, Always.


I am intending to move on to the next chapter of the book next week as my time dictates how to handle this one and I need to bring it forward one week.  I will be looking at solitude.