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Forgottenheimer: Oppenheimer’s undetonated bomb, and a missed opportunity – contains spoilers

Oppenheimer. Universal Pictures,

It seems somewhat late in the day to be writing about Christopher Nolan’s latest film, Oppenheimer. In part, that is because my emotions and reflections have turned out to be just as complex as Nolan’s own narrative. I have been searching for clarity.
I will therefore get straight to the point. If you will forgive the hyperbole, in my view Nolan’s epic, despite its multi-layered narrative and wonderous cinematic creativity, is deeply disappointing. That is because it is the only film in history that we expected to bomb but in reality, lacked impact. Whilst I find myself questioning whether I should go back and rewatch the film for anything that I have missed, one of the most telling markers of good storytelling is that you are so drawn in that you cannot fail to take its themes home. Even without being particularly visceral, a good film will return to you and invade your thoughts when you are back home doing the hoovering.

Piecing together the narrative

In the case of Oppenheimer, my only thoughts were ones whereby I was trying to piece the narrative together. In order to enjoy this film you will need to understand the historical context in which it takes place. Heck, you may even find it easier to read the text from which the film was inspired, American Prometheus (Bird & Sherwin, 2021) in order to be adequately prepared. Oppenheimer was the architect of the atomic bomb, in a race against time, developing a weapon that could arguably end World War II before our enemies made their own advances. He was a theoretical physicist who displayed some uncomfortable personality traits – including, according to the film, lacing his lecturers lunchbox apple with cyanide. He was a hero one minute, but derided the next. President Trueman, for example was unimpressed whe Oppenheimer shared his concern that he felt he had blood on his hands, famously derriding Oppenheimer as a ‘cry-baby’. Oppenheimer’s reluctance to support the further development of a hydrogen bomb, as the United States hurtled towards a cold war, led some politicians to be sceptical of his support – and the easiest way to disempower him was to question his loyalty to the states by suggesting he had communist sympathies and may have leaked secrets to the Russians. This set in motion an enquiry as to whether he remained suitable to continue working for the United States Atomic Energy Commission.

Perhaps it is the way that my mind works; as I viewed the film I had to think back to my university lectures in Physical Chemistry, trying to remember the composition of the bomb, and how the nuclear material needed to be refined (illustrated by an increasing load of two sets of marbles in a two fish bowls). If this were a lecture, and I was in the audience listening, I would have been sitting there nodding politely, perhaps even smiling whilst wondering whether I was the only one not quite understanding what was being said. It was like reaching the point in a Maths lesson where you are really not following, and the teacher has no idea. This way in which the narrative of this film weaves about is a nightmare! It is filled with flash-forwards, and flashbacks, in colour and black and white, with I believe, colour representing the memories of one of Oppenheimer’s detractors, Richard Strauss. And yes, I did not realise that until I read a review from someone else. Significantly, YouTube and the internet are full of articles that break down and explain the narrative.

A crime against humanity

My primary concern is that I didn’t feel a profound sense of Oppenheimer’s moral turmoil following the bombings. We should be acutely aware of the sheer devastation caused by the uranium fission bomb (‘Little Boy,’ equivalent to 15,000 tons of TNT) on Hiroshima and the plutonium implosion bomb (‘Fat Man,’ equivalent to 21,000 tons of TNT) on Nagasaki. This knowledge should be seizmic in our souls.

Little Boy – US government DOD and/or DOE photograph, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

U.S. Department of Defense, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Fat Boy U.S. Department of Defense, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Atomic bombing of Japan. Left picture : At the time this photo was made, smoke billowed 20,000 feet above Hiroshima while smoke from the burst of the first atomic bomb had spread over 10,000 feet on the target at the base of the rising column. Six planes of the 509th Composite Group participated in this mission: one to carry the bomb (Enola Gay), one to take scientific measurements of the blast (The Great Artiste), the third to take photographs (Necessary Evil), while the others flew approximately an hour ahead to act as weather scouts (08/06/1945). Bad weather would disqualify a target as the scientists insisted on a visual delivery. The primary target was Hiroshima, the secondary was Kokura, and the tertiary was Nagasaki. George R. Caron, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

The wide variation in the death toll stems from the inadequate record-keeping at the time. Estimates range from 129,000 to 226,000, complicated further by the distinction between immediate casualties and those succumbing to radiation poisoning. What I want to emphasize is that although Oppenheimer’s flashbacks touch upon this terror, it is presented fleetingly, assuming that the audience is already aware of the unimaginable scale of destruction caused by these weapons.

Photo of what became later Hiroshima Peace Memorial among the ruins of buildings in Hiroshima, in early October, 1945, photo by Shigeo Hayashi.

 

The patient’s skin is burned in a pattern corresponding to the dark portions of a kimono worn at the time of the explosion. Japan, circa 1945. Gonichi Kimura 1945 National Archives at College Park, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

 

Siblings losing their hair. The younger brother died in 1949 and so did the elder sister in 1965 of aftereffects of atomic bomb. Kikuchi Shunkichi日本語： 菊池俊吉, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons1945.

This, in my opinion, is the major flaw in “Oppenheimer.” In fact, judging by the numerous explanatory articles and videos available online, you might find yourself needing a manual to decipher this film before delving into introspection. I may be simplifying things, especially considering the film’s title is “Oppenheimer” – centered on the individual rather than the bomb itself. Nevertheless, even when Oppenheimer’s opposition to the United States developing a hydrogen fusion bomb becomes evident, the lack of vivid description (beyond cold facts and figures) of what ground zero looks like for a ‘typical’ nuclear bomb means that the audience can’t fully grasp the gravity of the situation and the depth of Oppenheimer’s emotions. Time Magazine, citing a nuclear engineer at Berkeley University in California, underscores that a hydrogen bomb would possess a hundred to a thousand times more destructive power. [2]

A missed opportunity to tell the story to younger generations

Regrettably, this film is rated 15 in the UK instead of 12A. While I acknowledge that the themes in this film are mature and warrant parental guidance, I believe that the ages between 12 and 15 are crucial for helping young individuals contemplate actions, consequences, and the world around them. The language used is relatively mild, but there are instances of obscenities. Similarly, the intimate scenes, though mild and potentially relevant in terms of conscience and key narrative themes, come across as overly clever and, in a way, overly theatrical. This approach diminishes the gravity of these moments and, frankly, feels somewhat absurd.

For instance, in one scene, Oppenheimer’s relationship with Gene Tatlock, who is also having relations with the Communist Party USA, is depicted with them in bed. Oppenheimer’s mind seems preoccupied with theoretical physics and matters of conscience, while Gene takes control of the situation by sitting on top of him, grabbing the Bhagavad Gita from a shelf above his head, and reciting the line “Now I am become death, the destroyer of souls.” This phrase is, of course, repeated by Oppenheimer later. In another scene, Gene and Robert sit naked, facing each other, as a portrayal of the competing desires between Gene and Kitty (Oppenheimer’s wife) begins to unfold, with Gene vying for dominance in their love triangle. These scenes are not explicit or titillating; they are more commonplace, peculiar, and a sophisticated, creative effort to highlight Oppenheimer’s character flaws and how he is both the instigator and victim of his own inner turmoil. They certainly do not offer gratuitous moments through pornography. I’m not convinced that they add significantly to the script, and I believe they could be portrayed differently for a younger audience.

While I’m tempted to delve into the discussion of what content should be accessible at various age levels, my main point is that even if the film did underscore the gravity of the nuclear experimentation and the ethical dilemmas it raised, its UK age rating makes it inaccessible to those under the age of 15. Nevertheless, I strongly believe that our young people should be as well-informed about the threat of nuclear warfare as they are about the Holocaust. “Oppenheimer” represents a missed opportunity, especially with its release date on July 21, 2023, so close to Hiroshima Day on August 6th. [3]

A cult following?

While the film may not have a significant impact in certain areas, I have no doubt that it will gain a dedicated following. It’s not entirely accurate to call it a “cult following” because the film isn’t meant for mere entertainment; rather, it’s a vehicle for understanding how personality, conscience, power, authority, and consequences intersect. It delves into the connections between theory, practice, and perceived risk, as well as ethics and utilitarianism.

Oppenheimer is initially celebrated for his work at Los Alamos but later faces derision from those who question his loyalty. Strauss is motivated to undermine Oppenheimer after witnessing a conversation between Oppenheimer and Einstein, which leaves Einstein seemingly indifferent towards Strauss. This eventually leads to Oppenheimer losing his security clearance. However, Strauss’s ambitions for a senior political role are thwarted when it becomes clear that his vindictiveness, exposed for all to see, was the driving force behind this move. Consequently, Strauss fails to garner enough votes in the Senate for his appointment. This power struggle, rather than the ethics of nuclear warfare, becomes the central lens through which the story unfolds.

Ultimately, Oppenheimer is finally recognized for his achievements by John F. Kennedy. In all of this, Einstein’s earlier words to Oppenheimer, that he will be praised for his actions because they benefit those who applaud him, prove to be true. After unleashing the nuclear bomb, Oppenheimer becomes a pawn in a political game. Therefore, the film’s reluctance to help viewers step into the narrative by providing a clearer backstory is what prevents it from making a more profound impact. Regarding the bomb’s impact, longer moments of reflection, possibly with silence, showcasing the devastation and fires, could have underscored this point. Such scenes don’t have to be visceral; they simply need to be telling.

Looking for the spiritual core

For those seeking a deeper, spiritual reflection on the significance of Oppenheimer’s story, CBS News provides profound insights through a 1965 interview. Oppenheimer’s responses to the newscaster’s questions followed a somewhat expected pattern: he viewed the bomb as a necessary evil, a harsh measure taken with reluctance, aimed at preventing further suffering. He candidly admitted, “You naturally don’t think of that with ease. I do not think our consciences should be entirely easy.” However, a sense of caution pervades Oppenheimer’s responses. He appears to sidestep personal reflections and instead emphasizes the collective conscience of the era. Based on the information available to him in both 1945 and 1965, Oppenheimer seemed to believe that the use of the bombs was justifiable.

Nonetheless, I was deeply struck by the contrast between corporate and personal conscience. Regardless of the rational arguments constructed by others to justify the use of the bomb, did it still conflict with Oppenheimer’s personal conscience at the time, even if it seemed rational on the surface? Regrettably, this is a question that remains unanswered, as Oppenheimer carried it with him to the grave and beyond, leaving us with a perpetual ethical dilemma.

Curiously, just as the film inadequately references historical context, it also fails to explore the divine or our responsibility to it, except for Oppenheimer’s misquoted words from the Bhagavad Gita, which the audience is left to interpret. It’s worth noting that this Hindu epic involves its hero, Prince Arjuna, conversing with Krishna, an incarnation of the god Vishnu, who is the preserver and protector of the universe in Hinduism. Arjuna is uncertain about how to handle a family conflict, and Krishna convinces him to fight. However, when Krishna reveals his true power, the world seems to burn (to borrow your phrase), and Arjuna pleads with him to stop. In this sense, Krishna to Arjuna is what nuclear research is to science—initially desiring the benefits but recoiling once realizing the destructive force unleashed. The parallels between these narratives are striking.

Oppenheimer harnesses nuclear science but is cautious about the consequences and where it might lead. However, the film unfortunately doesn’t delve further into this aspect to shed light on Oppenheimer’s awareness of his accountability to the divine. It seems that featuring Oppenheimer’s reference to one of Hinduism’s sacred texts should prompt consideration of the idea that regardless of our individual beliefs about God, there is more at play here than a limited human-centered ethical conversation.

Oppenheimer, and Physicists ‘knowing sin’

Interestingly, Oppenheimer did speak of sin relatively soon after the bombings, and so it would have been possible to begin to enter this territory. Personally, I would not be looking for the film to do more than introduce the question – because we can reflect on it in the car park later. But to close, during his 1965 CBS interview, Oppenheimer stated:

“Long ago I said once in a crude sense, in which no vulgarity and no humour could quite erase, that ‘Physicists had known sin’. I didn’t mean by that the deaths that were caused by the result of our work. We had known the sin of pride. We had turned to effect in what proved to be a major way the course of man’s history. We had the pride of thinking that we knew what was good for man, and I do think that this has left a mark of many of those of those who were responsibly engaged. This is not the natural business of a scientist.”

Regrettably, from my perspective, while “Oppenheimer” possessed considerable beauty, creativity, and an unmatched level of sophistication within its intricate and multilayered narrative, it failed to make the impact it should have. It may not be a total disaster, but it certainly fell short of expectations. “Oppenheimer” runs the risk of fading into obscurity and becoming “Forgottendheimer” because it places too little emphasis on the crucial ethical question of whether it is morally justifiable to use nuclear weapons and the complex personalities and dynamics that are involved in making such a decision.

[1] Atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki – Wikipedia
[2] https://time.com/4954082/hydrogen-bomb-atomic-bomb/
[3] https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2023/08/06/japan/hiroshima-attomic-bombing-78th-anniversary/
[4] (26) From the archives: Robert Oppenheimer in 1965 on if the bomb was necessary – YouTube 2:15

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Reflection and Eucharistic Prayer based on Jesus’ response to the Canaanite Woman seeking Deliverance for her Daughter

This communion liturgy was written for cafe worship and in response to the challenging dialogue, in Matthew 15:21-28.

The Canaanite Woman, Les Très Riches Heures du duc de Berry, Folio 164r, Condé Museum, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Matthew 15 describes a visit made by a woman to Jesus, then in Gentile territory, She was desperate for Him to deliver her possessed daughter. Jesus’ response, “Let the children be satisfied first, for it is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs”, has proved one of the most challenging sayings of Jesus because, from a cursory reading, it appears to support the discriminatory and inhumane attitudes shared by many of his compatriots, towards the Gentiles.

Whilst the principle that Jesus comes to the people of Israel first, and then to the wider world is understandable, we are made distinctly uncomfortable by how Jesus’ words could be taken to uphold some kind of two-tier hierarchy (in which ‘they’ (the Gentiles) are favoured less than ‘us’.

Michael Angelo Immenraet, Jesus and the Woman of Canaan. Between 1673 and 1678. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. Complete with large dog. Spot the look of surprise on the face of the nearest disciple. Michael Angelo Immenraet, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

This is not helped in the least by his referring to them as ‘dogs’.

Softer readings of the term, derived from the original Greek (which means ‘puppies’ rather than the ferocious animals we might assume), do little, in reality, to counter this. Meanwhile, the suggestion that the word for ‘dogs’ in Greco-Roman contexts, was also used to refer to philosophers, is tempting to hold on to (as if Jesus is saying that his truth claims need to be received as more than philosophical ideas that are up for debate).

However, Jesus is too far removed from this context for this to offer any kind of reprieve. The Gentiles knew that they were despised by their neighbours. Our only hope, unless we suggest that Jesus is having a bad day, and has been caught off-guard, is that he is saying it sarcastically, as if this phrase, ‘It is not right to take food for the children and toss it to the dogs’, is a common saying that Jesus is ridiculing. However, there seems little evidence of this, and we cannot know the tone in which Jesus is speaking.

There are, however, some positives. In the first place, the woman, an outsider, is prepared to risk people knowing that she has approached Jesus. Second, this seems to be a rare occasion where the person – let alone a woman – challenges Jesus and leaves affirmed. Her response, ‘Even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs’, is met with praise and the declaration that her daughter has been healed that instant. The core message is that Jesus, most likely seeking solace, tolerates being disturbed by someone in great need. The woman’s humility and persistence changes her life, and the life of her daughter.  Beyond this is the fact that whilst Jesus’ initial response leave us perplexed, He nonetheless disregards the boundaries of religious tradition that would have forbade He even talking to this woman, let alone bringing healing to her family.

I commend this liturgy to you, to use or edit as you wish. As general guidance to those ministers who are looking to write their own liturgies, page 221 of the 

Methodist Worship Book is a significant help. My personal experience is that this freedom that is offered to Methodist presbyters can be particularly helpful in ecumenical settings, given how we can shape our liturgies around particular scriptural and missional themes. This liturgy features elements of the Methodist Communion service for Pentecost (also for renewal, and emphasising the power of the Holy Spirit), aspects of Ordinary Season (1) – particularly a rewording of the familiar prayer recognising that we are not fit to gather the crumbs up from the Lord’s Table.  The Liturgy borrows from elements of the Iona Tradition by placing the Peace at the end, rather than at the beginning. Here, the emphasis is on how, having shared in communion, we find greater peace, and are drawn to a deeper level of commitment, then we were when we first began. We are a people who are now compelled to live at peace with each other, to respond well to those in need, and to bridge the divide. Meanwhile, the Lord’s Prayer is entered into earlier, as we emphasise that God meets our daily needs and that this rite is both a reminder and a fulfilment of this. 

One line is derived from considerable reflection, in that we pray that God would ‘help us unravel those strands of our traditions (sic.) which we have spoilt, that now limit our love’. This is rooted initially in the idea that aspects of the Pharisaic Tradition which were intended to help people draw closer to God had in fact become more insular and created division. A more detailed analysis of that paradigm is not possible here, but Jesus is clear in his speaking out against rules that misunderstand the action itself (ie food laws or washing hands) with the point of the action (this should be an outward sign of an inward commitment to righteousness, rather than a display for the sake of one’s one pride). Meanwhile, my emphasis is on how we can spoil the best of our inherited traditions in much the same way; we have the tendency to cherish the past to the point that we end up not preserving a mission but a living museum of what used to work. And in the worst of cases, we withdraw from the world, feeling resentful of those in our communities who do not seem to be supporting us. We say, ‘We are here for anyone and everyone just so long as they are prepared to walk through the Church doors’.

This is, I grant you, a pessimistic view of church where amazing things are happening, but our overriding learning from Fresh Expressions, and then New Places for New People, and also Church at the Margins, is that we still need to encourage each other in reaching out to new people who are not yet members of the church, and to be open to the kind of changes that need to be put in place so that the Church meets them where they are, rather than expecting them to conform to a model of church that may work for us, but may be less than ideal for them. We need to visit the land of the Gentiles and to be receptive.

Another element from the Methodist Worship Book which may prove helpful, especially in countering any sense of hierarchy, and emphasising mutuality, is for the President to adopt the confessional stance laid out in the Second Preaching Service within the Worship Book, Section B. Here the President would lead the way in confessing their own sins, with the pardon being pronounced by the congregation,  and then the congregation confessing their sins to the President.

I confess to God and to you
that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed;
May God have mercy on me.

May God grant you pardon
forgiveness of all your sins
time to amend your life,
and the grace and comfort of the Holy Spirit, Amen

Silence, after which the people say

We confess to God and to you
that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed;
May God have mercy on me.

May God grant you pardon
forgiveness of all your sins
time to amend your life,
and the grace and comfort of the Holy Spirit, Amen

_______________________

The Creed 

The Offering

The Lord’s Prayer

The Lord is here. His Spirit is with us.
Lift up your hearts. We lift them to the Lord.
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God. It is right to give our thanks and praise.

Almighty God. At the beginning of time, your Holy Spirit
hovered over the surface of the deep.
You formed the heavens and the earth.
You brought light to the darkness, and life to all.

You convict us, and draw us,
that we might turn to you
and know life in all its fulness.

We remember your faithfulness through the generations
And how your covenants unfolded.
You raised up a holy people to reflect your love for the world
so that we might find purpose, and care for one another.
You sent prophets, priests, and kings to lead your people.
You defeat sin and death, and all that oppresses.

We give thanks today, that despite our sin:
Our tendency to withdraw from you, and from each other
Our lack of humility and willingness to embrace the risk of rejection
Our negligence, weakness, or even deliberate intent:
You sent your Son Jesus, so that you, the one true God
who was unknown, or overlooked and forgotten by so many,
would be revealed through His exorcisms, healings, and nature miracles.

And so with angels and archangels
and all the choirs of heaven
we join in the triumphant hymn:

Holy Holy Holy Lord
God of Power and Might
Heaven and Earth are full of your Glory
Hosanna in the Highest
Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord
Hosanna in the Highest. 

As we gather at this table, we remember Jesus’ final meal.
Where, as the future looked bleak,
worry, confusion, questioning, and betrayal hung in the air.
We acknowledge Jesus’ sacrifice, dying on the cross for us:
Journeying unto death so that we might be shaken to our senses.
He who welcomes our questioning, who loves beyond the border
urges us to seek the Father’s forgiveness and love our neighbour

Whilst we are saddened by Jesus’ death, we rejoice in His resurrection
and the knowledge that your Kingdom is here, is coming, and knows no bounds:

Christ has died, Christ is risen, and Christ will come again.

You lead us from longing to belonging.
Although our life may be challenging.
Although love’s cost, paid through grief can be great.
Although we may feel at times abandoned and lost.
You never leave us, you are our comforter, counsellor, helper, our friend.
When we are weak, we are carried by our church family.
When we are strong, we join our church family in carrying the weak.
Your spirit convicts us as to how, and where, you are leading us to serve.
You call us to welcome the stranger, to question that which divides us,
You call us to unravel those strands of our traditions which we have spoilt,
that now limit our love
We give thanks for those who stand with us now, whom we cannot see,
those who join with us in worship, prayer and service.
Who together with us, and the angels and archangels
praise you, and proclaim the eternal truth:

Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord.
God of Power and might
Heaven and earth are full of your glory,
Hosanna in the highest
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,
Hosanna in the highest.

We remember how, on the night before he died Jesus took bread, broke it, and said, ‘Take, eat, this is my body’, and how he took the cup saying. ‘Drink from it all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins’.

We offer you these gifts of bread and wine, and with them ourselves, as a holy living sacrifice:

You send forth your spirit.
You bind us in love.
You renew the face of the earth.

Pour out your Holy Spirit so that these gifts of bread and wine
may be transformed and may become for us the body and blood of Christ.
Unite us with Him forever
And bring us with the whole of creation
To your eternal Kingdom

Through Christ, with Christ, in Christ,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
all blessing and honour and glory and power
be yours forever and ever, Amen.

The bread is broken in the sight of the people.

We break this bread to share in the body of Jesus Christ

Lord, we come to your table in humility,
trusting in your mercy
We are not deserving of the crumbs under your table
but it is your nature to bring healing
and to shape us into the people you are calling us to be
So feed us with the body and lifeblood of Christ
so that He may grow in us, and we may grow in Him.

The bread and wine is shared; helpful options here, which reinforce the theme of Jesus calling us to love our neighbour, is for the bread and wine to be shared amongst the congregation by passing it to each other.

The Peace

The Peace of the Lord, which surpasses all understanding and knows no bounds, be with you now and forever

And also with you

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It’s a Barbie World, and I am still making sense of it all

As I write I am recovering from the Barbie movie. I went because I thought it was no use hearing the opinions of others – I needed to judge for myself. The film reviews had already painted this as a movie that whilst being almost cartoonish in style, made some playful but poignant observations about the assumptions we might make about gender roles. Herein, there is a mix, some of these might be unconscious, and some we may be fully aware of, and regret. If anyone was looking for a sequel to our Methodist Church Justice, Dignity, and Solidarity training, looking through the lens of gender, I would consider this to be compulsory viewing.
In the sky, a large styled pink “B” with Margot Robbie as Barbie sitting holding out her right arm and Ken lying down in an angle with his head resting on his right clenched hand. A tagline reads: “She’s everything. He’s just Ken.” The poster art copyright is believed to belong to the distributor of the film, Warner Bros. Pictures, the publisher of the film or the graphic artist.

 

A helpful film makes you think. While Barbie does touch upon the well-rehearsed and valid aspects of patriarchy’s impact, it avoids the increasingly hackneyed, sensational, and hostile arguments put by its most vehement proponents. Curiously, while the film implicitly addresses concerns over male dominance, it also takes aim at a particular brand of feminism promoted by Mattel, the producers of the Barbie doll. Whilst this brand of feminism is credited for broadening horizons for girls worldwide, it is criticised simultaneously for perpetuating unattainable expectations regarding appearance and career, impacting many negatively. Barbie is among others a film director, film and music producer, teacher, dentist, doctor, paratrooper, campaign fundraiser, police officer, architect, astrophysicist – the list is endless. In my view though it is not accurate to say that there are fewer less skilled roles for Barbie: there are. Nonetheless, one of the striking moments in the film is where Barbie from Barblieland enters into conversation with Sasha, a young adolescent girl living in the real world, who states, “Barbie, you’ve set feminism back by 50 years. Every woman feels bad about herself when they see you. You’re a fascist!” That comment made Barbie cry.

Cover of Earring Magic Ken. Fair Use; Used for purposes of illustration

The narrative is supported with barbs towards Mattel (which could be also read as product placement); all Ken wants lives to be acknowledged by Barbie and gets no attention; his only friend Allan was discontinued after rumours began to circulate that he and Ken’s relationship was more than platonic. Then again, Allan returned as Midge’s husband in the 90’s – but sadly, they did not survive for long. Indeed, Pregnant Midge (who also came with a toddler and pram) was also withdrawn in fear that Mattel might be promoting teen pregnancy unwittingly. Earring Magic Ken was withdrawn, again, because of how gay he seemed. Palm Beach Sugar Daddy Ken (with an $82 million dollar fortune) was scrapped – this should be celebrated since Barbie does not need a sugar-daddy. Even Tanner, Barbie’s dog, is withdrawn because he defecated unsafely. (In truth, it was the magnet inside, unsafe for children that did it, rather than the defecation which was seen as a marketable add-on).

It was the line about fascist feminism that shocked me most. Gretta Gerwig’s willingness to champion the feminist cause and yet, at the same time, to be critical about the less helpful aspects of the Barbie project is refreshing. It brings self-reflection and honesty to the table. What interested me more however is a broader thought, derived from Gerwig’s work – that in declaring the freedoms we hope for; in our pressing hard to redress the balance, in our discourse, in our practical action, if we get the balance wrong, people see hate and intolerance justified under the guise of a just cause rather than love. Calling what are left wing movements towards greater freedom ‘fascist’ is peculiar, because fascism has historically been anchored to far right ideologies, where violence is used to bring about suppression and conformity. Even so, however framed,  intolerance-whilst-arguing-for-tolerance is indeed a marker of our times. It is the big question we are all wrestling with. It is, for example, at the forefront of Extinction Rebellion or Just Stop Oil’s action. We all care for the planet but to what extent can campaigners disrupt lives to promote a worthy cause? The issue is that many onlookers are suspicious of simplistic arguments, and disagree with the form of protest. Moreover the accusation that extremes of feminist activism might have fascist tendencies could almost have been lifted from the playbooks of Andrew Doyle (GB News), Piers Morgan (TalkTV), or Richard Madeley (Good Morning Britain).

Where then does this leave us?

I entered a Barbie world, and I am still making sense of it all. In recent weeks I have been considering Jesus’ parables. Rather than beginning by exploring their meaning (which almost defeats the object), my approach has been to explore why Jesus spoke in parables in the first place? In my view, this has something to do with how Jesus manages conflict. Whilst Jesus can and does speak the truth directly and uncompromisingly (ask any of the scribes or Pharisees who were about to stone the adulteress – ‘Let He who has not sinned cast the first stone’, or derrided by Him publicly as ‘whitewashed tombs’ or a ‘serpents’ – John 8, Matthew 23), Jesus also manages conflict by speaking in parables. Whilst Jesus’ parabolic teaching is judgmental in the sense that it allows Jesus to point the finger at the state of the world, and what Kingdom values look like, Jesus does not poke people in the eye.
A helpful example is that of the lawyer who asks Jesus ‘Who is my neighbour?’ Jesus does not respond by saying, “What a stupid question. Whatever a neighbour is, let alone a good neighbour, it is definitely not you!” No, he tells a story. He invites the lawyer and the bystanders to step into a scene and think through their values. Who is our neighbour? How should we behave? In essence, Jesus states that our neighbour is whoever is beside us, or who we pass by, and we are called to love them, even if we have been conditioned to hate them. Whilst the message is personal, it is not given as a personal barb. It does not try to settle arguments by destroying the person we are trying to persuade. There is something in this, in how as Christians we seek to help people engage in issues of Justice, Dignity, and Solidarity without increasing conflict and hostility, by helping us all see life from a different perspective.

Compulsory viewing?

I believe that Barbie should be compulsory viewing because it presents a unique perspective on the place of men in feminist debates, shedding light on gender expectations and the influence of patriarchy woven into the film. The initial scenes, where girls reject the traditional baby dolls they were given as children and exchange them for Barbie, are both poignant and harrowing, demanding our attention. Witnessing this powerful portrayal of societal expectations and gender norms, I could not help but be deeply moved.

Even so, this marked the outer limits of Barbie’s rebellion. As one of the few males in the cinema, I found myself drawn not only to the message of women’s emancipation but also to the introspection it prompted regarding male dominance as a product of patriarchy. Instead of feeling alienated or blamed, I felt invited to be a part of the solution and engage in the conversation with warmth and understanding. This movie challenges us all to confront the legacy of patriarchy and its impact on shaping unconscious biases – and it is refreshing to see how the complexity around this is acknowledged. There is an irony throughout the film where the kind of lines that might appear on a protest placard are delivered with a level of sarcasm, suggesting that creating a utopia is not as simple as we might imagine.

By addressing gender expectations, Barbie encourages us to reflect on the ways in which societal norms have shaped our perspectives, and it motivates us to actively support the broader movement for gender equality. It is essential that we foster an environment where individuals of all genders can come together in dialogue, acknowledging the influence of patriarchy while striving to create a more inclusive and equitable world. Barbie compels us to embrace change, think critically about gender roles and their limitations, and to be aware of how patriarchy has historically promoted male dominance, which has, in turn, disempowered women.

Similarly, given the film’s thought-provoking critique of Barbie-feminism; “Thanks to Barbie, all problems of feminism and equal rights have been solved”, I find myself anticipating how a more comprehensive critique of matriarchy might surface in wider society. At present, this feels underdeveloped. Exploring both sides of the gender debate will further enrich our understanding and pave the way towards a more comprehensive and nuanced conversation about gender dynamics.

References:
Morgan, Piers, ‘Vile woke fascists bullying us over ‘trans’ rapists and gender-neutral awards pose a severe and unexpected threat’, 150123, https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/21162988/piers-morgan-transgender-protests/
Lewis, Isobel, ‘Good Morning Britain: Richard Madeley criticised for calling climate activist a ‘fascist’, 140921 https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/tv/news/richard-madeley-gmb-climate-protest-b1919758.html
Doyle, Andrew, We should stop letting activists get away with redefining words to suit their political purposes, 300122, https://www.gbnews.com/opinion/andrew-doyle-we-should-stop-letting-activists-get-away-with-redefining-words-to-suit-their-political-purposes/216297
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I might forget your name – but Jesus’ won’t.

This article is dedicated to those who forget or confuse names and places easily, and who in trying to remember someone’s name can’t get another out of their head. Batman made an appearance in one of my recent services. Because I had called someone Robin by mistake.
Not a great image to have in your mind during worship – By Greenway Productions-producer of both the television series and the 1966 film. – eBay itemphoto frontphoto back, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=105593132
Once again, I continue to thank God for the new people that the Lord is bringing us, who are making Queen Street their spiritual home. My challenge is how I get to know you all. I need to be honest and share how I am absolutely terrible with names. It is something that I find deeply humiliating and difficult, because I love people and feel like an absolute idiot when I cannot remember someone’s name when I am facing them, or in passing conversation I get names wrong. My sister, who is a psychologist, says that I have dyslexia. It is more of a family joke but I suspect there is some truth in it. There is also a level of ADHD there. Yes, I am high functioning (I think people who have doctorates have to fall into this category). I am not a great reader – my attention span is short (research reading is different from novel reading). Whilst I don’t struggle with spelling, I do get place names confused. It is a cognitive weakness.
I remember on one occasion, when Ro and I were living in Yorkshire, we agreed to meet each other – she would do the shopping, and I would meet to help her pack, at Morrisons. That was four miles away. I ran to Tescos – which was four miles in the opposite direction. By the end of the day I had practically run a half-marathon. (And yes, I still can’t remember whether I have the names of the supermarkets right). In formal settings I tend to be fine, but those of you who see me at work in the vestry – say before a baptismal service – will know how carefully I sit there and write the names of the child and the parents – again and again, on every page of the liturgy. It’s the same with a wedding and a funeral. We all find our coping mechanism – but it is when we are off script that we find our weaknesses. And there are people who have it far, far, far worse than me. I mean, here I am writing quite naturally. You would not know. Unless you agreed to meet me somewhere and I had not written it down. I live or die by my diary! Fortunately mistakes happen rarely – but it shows when things are informal or when I am rushing. Getting days and dates confused when I am firing off e-mails rapidly is another one – but we all correct ourselves.
About a month ago, in a moment of hilarity, whilst confidently leading worship, I managed to rename Paul Abel – who was sat at the front – ‘Robin’. I did it not once but at least twice. The eyebrows usually give it away, followed by (once it became impossible to ignore, the question. ‘Who is Robin?’ – since ‘Robin’ was about to lead us in prayer. Thankfully we are a close family at Whittlesey, and I feel so loved and valued, so acknowledging it was easier – but I did feel like a right muppet. I know why my brain went where it did: Robin was the name of Paul’s former minister, who I talked with some time back. However, during the seconds that followed the only word association I could get if ‘Robin’ was not ‘Robin’, was ‘Batman’!) Thankfully I did not blurt this out. The conversation with my wife that followed was interesting. She is a saint. She keeps me grounded, and I don’t ask her opinion if I am looking for a soft answer but on this occasion she conceded that I did manage to pull things back from the brink. My concession afterwards; ‘I might forget your name Paul, but Jesus won’t!’ seemed to come from nowhere. And despite my human frailties, and my embarrassment, we were back on track. I think this was more of a prophetic utterance than due to any quick thinking or creativity on my part, since I was utterly vulnerable and more open to the Holy Spirit. I might forget your name but Jesus won’t. Just think about that for a moment.
This brings me, conveniently, to a point where I can focus on what we are about at Queen Street. I have been around for long enough to know that the mark of a loving church is that you can be open and vulnerable, and people will embrace you. That despite our weaknesses – and we all have weaknesses – people love us for our strengths, and for what we bring to the church community. People are asking me why we are growing at Whittlesey. I don’t have an easy answer apart from to say that as a church we know what we are about – who we are here for, and why. I also know that whilst I have a role, everyone gets that we all have a responsibility to nurture each other. We are here to lead people to Jesus, the one who knows our name, knows us, and has a purpose for our lives. Making disciples makes church. It does not work the other way round. And so this is why, even though the formula is simple, we are holding our revival service on the week after Pentecost. What we have is previous. We have a place where God is bringing healing in so many ways. Do come along. Do bring a friend. We will share the gospel. We may hear some testimony. We will offer prayers for healing and wholeness. We will make sure we give people an opportunity to give their lives to Jesus. We cannot lose. We cannot fail. Because God’s purpose is in this, and in all that we do. We simply need to be open to God. In a sense, it does not matter how many make it, or whether it is about renewal or first-time commitment. We are being faithful. And if you can’t be there, praise God that you will be where God needs you to be – with family and friends etc, and do please pray for those of us who are.
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Icelandic Pride Part 1: Pride is about Human Rights

During a recent driving holiday touring Iceland, it slowly dawned on our family that we had arrived during Pride Week. Initially, we bypassed the capital, Reykjavik (the home of 65% of Iceland’s population of 372,000 inhabitants, and potentially, the largest number of balloons). However, our first sight of Icelandic Pride did not come via public notices, balloons, or glitter, but by how at least two churches – perched on hills above local villages – had painted their steps in pride colours.

Church Steps, Holmavik, Langley Mackrell-Hey, 2022

 

Church Steps, Holmavik, Langley Mackrell-Hey, 2022

Granted, this was not the case in every town, but it was nevertheless eye-catching, impossible to ignore, and dominated the view. In some places, Pride was unavoidable; the rainbow was beneath your feet as you followed a walkway to a civic building, or in the case of Reykjavik, a street where the individual pride colours were the width of a running track lane.

Pride Walkway,Reykjavik. Langley Mackrell-Hey, 2022 (Permanent since 2019)

Here, by default or deliberate design, the rainbow pointed directly to the iconic Hallgrímskirkja Church tower, stopping at its precincts (which, to be fair had a design of their own). However, just in case you had any doubts as to the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Iceland’s solidarity with the Pride movement, in previous years, the central isle at Hallgrímskirkja drew the eye deliberately and unmistakably towards the Pride carpet laid over the steps that led the way up to the communion table. Sadly, I did not see inside the Church during our visit – because when I arrived they were holding a funeral.

The interior of Hallgrimskirkja Church in Reykjavik. Iceland.  (Taken 9 August 2020/Alamy 2023)

 

 

 

 

As a superintendent minister serving the Methodist Church here in the UK, I found myself in holiday-humour overdrive. Where did the authorities lie for this to happen in those churches that participated? Was the land owned by the council – and did they simply paint the steps up to the church, leaving the congregation to work out how they would respond? Had a group of Pride carpet-fitters conducted a series of raids, dressed in balaclavas (garishly coloured of course), and installed carpets thinking, ‘No one will see this until it is too late’? (This would be some achievement in the midnight sun). Or dare I believe that pride was truly owned by the people, and church people at that?

One short answer might be gleaned from the events at Glerá Church in Akureyri (Iceland’s second capital – population, 18,000), where the Pride flag is painted on the walkway leading directly to the doors of the church. Here, the council outlined its plans and asked the church if they would finish the job – and the church agreed. Reports highlight that permission from the church’s executive committee, ‘took a while, but was successful’.[1] I discern a measure of realism in that statement. Iceland is not a panacea of Pride, but it is getting the job done.

I have been stirred by Icelandic Pride. Before I say more, I must freely admit I am trying to piece a narrative together from very shaky foundations. We did not attend a Pride march. I could well be romanticising things because of the changes that I yearn to see in my own country, below the surface. I continue to seek clarity from the Church of Iceland about the passage of events. However, I cannot deny that away from the Pride march, where Pride found its way into towns and villages, the Pride movement felt like it was at a different stage compared to us here in the UK. Crucially, in Iceland, it feels as if Pride’s human rights dimension has taken centre stage. The question, if you are in Iceland, is ‘Why would you not be on board?’ All I saw was tolerance, kindness, and respect in all things, and bewilderment that anyone could be wary of Pride or even homophobic.

Embedded Icelandic pride

Icelanders are not the kind of people to throw volcanic rocks at those who disagree with them. There is however, understandably, some derision from within the LGBT+ community towards the conservative evangelicalism that reaches them, particularly from the United States. (And I say this as a proud, liberal evangelical ministering in the UK). For example, the Reykjavik Grapevine featured an article from one of its reporters, Sam O’Donnell, who relayed an account of a heated conversation between an American tourist and a church attendant at Hallgrímskirkja:

“Excuse me. Is that a rainbow flag in the church?” The tourist asked.
(It’s a fair question. The bright colours don’t always give it away.)

“Yes, it is,” responded the attendant, confirming that the tourist’s eyes did not deceive.

“Why would a church have that?”
(Another fair question. Churches have historically been in favour of executing gay people and not flying rainbow flags.)

“Because we believe that God’s love is inclusive for all people, irrespective of their sexuality or background.”
(This church aims to rectify history’s transgressions. Nice.)

“Jesus would never accept that.”

“Yes, he would.”

“No, he would not.”

“I’m afraid we will have to disagree on that.

O’Donnell writes as someone who grew up in what he describes as the ‘Evangelical Christian Church’, and asserts that he, is certain of God’s unconditional love and would ‘tell the haters to leave the judgment to God.’ His closing comment is that most Americans who visit Iceland realise this, and refrain from entering into theological debates with church attendants.[2] Nonetheless, his sideswipes against what has been done in the name of Christianity have significant warrants. More than this, I submit that O’Donnell is being generous in using the word ‘historical’. In 2019, Sky News reported that Detective Grayson Fritts, also a preacher at a small American church in Tennessee called for the execution of homosexuals[3], and in 2020, Newsweek reported that Pastor Dillan Awes stated that “every single” gay person in America should be executed by the government.[4]

We might be tempted to view O’Donnell’s thinking as a generalisation from the particular.  Locally, we may well know of Christians and churches that are sympathetic to or even directly engaged with Pride. The argument that the Church Catholic has been complicit in sustaining homophobia, is difficult to refute. (The Church Catholic with all its denominations and congregations is, after all, a large entity),  

I take as my definition of homophobia the guidance given by the Methodist Church in Great Britain.[4a])  At its base, homophobia is the denial of the image of God in another person, due to their actual or perceived sexual orientation. A homophobic attitude or action denies someone’s dignity and worth. It can manifest in physical violence and emotional or psychological abuse.  It may surface in stereotypes and assumptions based on a person’s active or perceived sexual orientation, or it may include language that is hostile, hurtful and offensive. Most recently it may result in coercive spiritual practice, such as conversion therapy. Significantly, it is not homophobic to hold to the traditional view of sexuality. 

Whilst I am tempted to follow this line and cite examples of homophobia within Church institutions, I am more aware and filled with more dread about those periods where as Christians we have been complicit in our silence. This, I feel, is the centre ground for the fight against homophobia today. I suspect that aside from those bold individuals who served the Church and yet felt comfortable asserting their identity and being transparent about their sexuality in the UK, the Church has arrived late to the Pride Party. 

My point in highlighting this story is not to shock the reader with visceral examples of where homophobic attitudes exist in church settings – or on its fringes. Calling for gays to be executed is hate speech, and it does indeed serve as a healthy antidote against our complacency, especially when the inhumane views of a protagonist in one part of the world can move from screen to screen and be available on a different continent, in one mouse-click. Neither is it to project the baseless view that all conservative evangelicals think the same. Indeed, I know of countless colleagues who whilst they are against same-sex marriage or undecided, are amongst the most loving, understanding, accepting, and peace-making people I know. They have wrested with their consciences and shed tears over this issue. Moreover, I have yet to meet personally a conservative evangelical who has called for the death of gays.

Rather, I recite O’Donnell’s story as I suspect that it reflects how Pride has become interwoven with certain sections of Icelandic culture. Culture being, ‘The way we do things around here’[5], or the way we do things when we are not consciously thinking about it. We do not know who the tour guide was (although I am assuming that they were not an ordained minister). We do not know their gender or sexual identity. But we do know that they had enough resource at hand, and were confident enough when confronted, to defend the church at some depth – even to the point of, “We believe that God’s love is inclusive for all people, irrespective of their sexuality or background.” That is quite a statement. Not simply ‘The Church believes’, but ‘We believe’. And so there it is – the centre ground in the fight against homophobia. Moreover, note that although O’Donnell is critical of this particular tourist and what they represented, it is he who celebrates the attendant’s response by summing up with, “This church aims to rectify history’s transgressions. Nice.” O’Donnell recognises that ‘This Church’ is different.

The Pride film on the journey back with IcelandAir, The Colourful spirit of Iceland, Celebrating Reykavik Pride) takes care to emphasise how the founders of the first pride parade were astonished by how the people of Reykjavik came out to support. Whilst there was work to be done to establish the legal rights of LGBT+ people, Pride was not an in-your-face, we-are-here-to-stay, protest movement. In fact, there was little protest. Rather, neighbours stood by the roadside to support those who were ‘different’; to affirm them and to assert that they had a right to be true to their own identity rather than living a lie by omission and hiding their sexuality. I am, nonetheless, discerning enough to suspect that at least some of this is the marketing on the part of Pride and IcelandAir to encourage tourism to what would appear to be one of the most gay-friendly cities in the world. However, it felt to me as if there was a difference and that somehow Iceland was further on in its Pride journey. One hypothesis is that Iceland’s unique size, small communities, and familiarity between people in certain regions, accelerated Pride’s growth. For example, Peterborough’s population is around 215,000, whereas the population of Reykyavik is around 131,000 and 233,000 within the wider region. Meanwhile, a city in Iceland comprises anything from 10,000 to 100,000 people. Whilst some rural communities are remote and isolated, if you paint a pride rainbow on a city or village street, everyone will know about it.

Contrasting with Pride in the UK – and changes in the Pride flag

Whilst we have Pride walkways in the UK, they are dwarfed by our civil infrastructure and not always obvious. Certainly not as obvious as a six-lane running track-width pride walkway starting at either end of town and stopping at the entrance to, say, our cathedral.  Even so, the painting of steps and walkways by councils is not new. Aberdeen, Bristol, Coventry, Derby, London, Liverpool, Plymouth, and Swindon, among others, have not been shy in their investment in paint. The flag is appearing elsewhere. Cheshire Police have modified the livery of their squad cars. At the Cricketing 100 match held at Manchester between Birmingham Phoenix and the Manchester Originals in August 2022, the base of the stumps were painted with the Pride Flag, and players were invited to wear rainbow laces in support of LGBT+ people – the latter being something that is far from new in sporting circles but now making featuring as part of the closeups and commentary. I even visited my local garden centre this afternoon to find that I could purchase a set of batteries in pride colours. More than this, varieties of the LGBT flag are growing, including the Social Justice Pride Flag by Moulee (2018) with its reference to the Indian self-respect movement, anti-caste and left-wing political movements. Meanwhile the light pink, white and, cyan additions within the Progress Pride Flag and the New Pride Flag (both 2018), emphasising the rights of trans-people, and trans-people of colour, are particularly striking.

2018 Social Justice Pride Flag by queer activist Moulee. Courtesy Wikipedia.
2018 Progress Pride Flag by Daniel Quasar. 5 half sized stripes representing trans and non-binary individuals (light blue, light pink, white), marginalized POC communities (brown, black), as well as those living with AIDS and the stigma and prejudice surrounding them, and those who have been lost to the disease (black). Wikipedia.
2018 New Pride Flag is a call to action for the LGBTQIA+ movement to center the movement’s most marginalized. It was designed by a two spirit Afro-Taino, Julia Feliz. Wikipedia.

Elsewhere in the world though, Pride can struggle to make it on to the pitch. The Pride armband, originally intended to be worn by the England football team in Qatar (along with six other European nations), was never worn by their respective captains in our recent World Cup.

One Love Armband Design. Wikipedia.

The idea originated in the Netherlands as a direct response and protest towards Qatar’s laws against homosexuality, and the discussion that ensued highlighted clear differences in the human rights stance in other countries. In a bid to ease the tensions, FIFA, football’s governing body, viewed the Pride armband as a political statement – and according to FIFA rules, equipment worn by players must not have any political, religious, or personal slogans. All it took therefore was the threat that participating captains would be served with a yellow card (two yellow cards in two appearances would mean that a player would forfeit the next match), for them to deflate Pride.[6] However, this saga raised significant attention in the UK. I am however questioning how the conflict over Qatar’s human rights record might have been reported elsewhere beyond Europe. It’s a shame that Iceland did not make it to the finals.

A significant twist

Perhaps complementing this discussion over Pride armbands, and hidden from more extensive commentary, was the fact that a ‘senior Qatari official’ alleged to Sky News that its representatives had approached FIFA having made plans before the tournament to suggest that captains be permitted to wear a ‘No place for Islamophobia’ armband. This featured a Palestinian headscarf pattern.[7]

FIFA claimed that it was unaware of such a proposal, and one wonders whether this was official posturing, but for the record, whilst I support LGBT rights, I am also against Islamophobia – the fear, hatred of, or prejudice against Islam or Muslims.[8] My concern is not so much the fact that people from different cultures may find that they hold contrasting world views and values. It is that where we disagree, we should strive to disagree well, and live in peace. It is that we learn to live with contrasting convictions. I recognise that to a degree, some differences seem insurmountable. How does a country that has been so deeply conditioned to reject homosexuals to the point that this is enshrined in law and punishment, undo such attitudes? And thus here we stand at the crunch point of liberation theology; how far should we be prepared to go to support our human brothers and sisters who are living under oppressive regimes and protesting for change? How do we work towards the coming of the Kingdom? What does non-violent protest look like? Let us not forget that whilst a select number of European teams looked to protest with Pride, the Iranian football team (and other high-profile athletes) faced arrest, torture, and death when they returned. And all they did was refuse to sing the national anthem, or if they were a woman, refuse to wear a head covering.

To conclude

Returning to Iceland – and with perhaps insights for elsewhere, what began as a focus on the recognition and rights of LGBT+ communities gains further traction when the focus is on human rights generally. Thus to argue against LGBT+ rights is to argue against human rights – and hence my initial point. The issue beyond this is how as Christians we respond. In my view, this point might be simple, obvious even, but it is an important one. Whilst we may know of people who struggle with anything other than the traditional view of human sexuality, and whilst the proportion of people identifying as lesbian, gay or bisexual (LGB) in 2018 was 2.2% (Office for National Statistics [16]), we can all agree on the need to make progress where human rights are concerned. For the moment, Iceland seems to be heading in the right direction

This article is the first in a series detailing how my experience in Iceland has impacted my ongoing thoughts as a Methodist Minister serving in the UK. My thoughts do not necessarily represent the views of the wider Methodist Church. My intention in writing this article is to be open about my own thinking, in the hope that I can encourage others, and in the hope that I can learn through others as we enter into dialogue.

I am mindful of two further articles that could stem from this:

The second is a focus on how Pride and the decisions of the Icelandic government have influenced the Church of Iceland, which has now adopted gay marriage.  In particular, there is the potential to explore how the Icelandic Church is engaging with Pride today in a way of acknowledging its failings in the past, and bringing healing. 

The third article is focused on the Pride movement here in the UK, and in particular how the Church in the UK might engage with Pride. One key question is ‘What does Christian Pride look like?’, since whilst the Church may support the human rights dimension of Pride, we also look to retain a particular understanding of what healthy, holy, relationships look like. 

As a final note, I would like to thank colleagues and friends who have encouraged me to write about my experiences. Thus far, whilst I have journeyed with congregations as part of our Methodist Church God in Love Unites us discussions, I have been reluctant to put pen to paper. Part of this stems from the fact that I am straight and I would rather that the voices in support of Pride came from within the LGBT+ community. Meanwhile, the tone of the LGBT+ debate in certain circles is deeply unpleasant, with protagonists on both sides of the debate being openly hostile with each other, in a way that I can only describe as unchristian. This is particularly evident on social media, where the sound byte or video clip rules, where all humanity can be lost, and where hatred can surface so easily. As a minister, I strive to balance an openness about what I believe (It is impossible and unhelpful to hide this), whilst being willing to listen and support those who think differently from me. As I shall demonstrate no doubt in a future article, the fact that a church community may have agreed to register their building for same sex-marriages does not mean that they are free from pain over the issue. This will take some time. But crucial to this journey is the calling that is on us to create communities that are open, honest, respectful, and trusting when it comes to discussing difficult issues. Without this, we will make little progress. 

[1] https://grapevine.is/news/2022/06/16/glera-church-makes-statement-of-inclusivity/

[2] From Iceland — Tourist Vs. Rainbow Flag: 0-1, Rainbow Flag (grapevine.is)

[3] https://news.sky.com/story/tennessee-detective-calls-for-gay-people-to-be-executed-during-church-sermon-11742169

[4] https://www.newsweek.com/pastor-gay-people-solution-killings-bible-1714037

[4a] homophobia-edi-committee-guidance.pdf (methodist.org.uk)

[5] Widely referenced and originate from Deal and Kennedy in the 1980’s

[6] World Cup 2022: what is the OneLove armband and why did FIFA ban it? | Reuters

[7] Muslim nations proposed World Cup armband to raise awareness of Islamophobia | World News | Sky News

[8] Islamophobia | Muslim Council of Britain (mcb.org.uk)

[9] My Google search terms were ‘Methodist church gay marriage uk’ last checked 020123.

[10] https://www.facebook.com/peterboroughmethodistcircuit/

[11] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-bristol-61981557

[12] https://www.somersetlive.co.uk/news/somerset-news/first-same-sex-church-weddings-7827532

[13] https://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/news/north-east-news/northumberland-same-sex-weddings-churches-24696986

[14] https://www.theargus.co.uk/news/20145259.hove-methodist-church-host-first-same-sex-marriage-summer/ and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YyxUz1LhSE&t=5s

[15] https://www.methodist.org.uk/about-us/the-methodist-church/marriage-and-relationships/archive-marriage-and-relationships-2019/managing-group-conversations-around-marriage-and-relationships/a-model-statement-on-living-with-contradictory-convictions/

Sexual orientation, UK – Office for National Statistics (ons.gov.uk)

 

 

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26mph. Jesus did not come to make bad people good. He came to make dead people live.

26.7 miles per hour – to be precise. And that’s on the flat without ducking down on ‘the drops’ and carrying a rucksack. I am of course referring to my most recent bike ride from Peterborough or to be precise, Gunthorpe Road to Queen’s Street. The route took me north via Newborough, then right on to the Thorney Road (facing winds of 25mph, gusting at 30mph – I checked), then turning right to be wind-assisted for the second half, up past the Dog and Doublet and into the town. What a contrast.

Not me. Just me in my head. By Wikichops – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=62320658

 

 

 

 

 

I am sure there are people who have gone faster. I once did a funeral for a man who managed to live a long life despite receiving a speeding ticket for travelling at 50mph on a bike through the Mersey Tunnel. I was so sceptical about this that I did check what was possible – and yes it is – but you rely on the hill rather than spinning legs to achieve those kinds of speeds. And of course, those who know my figure will know that I am more like a human cannonball than a dart – but this does have its advantages when it comes to preserving my momentum.
El Pollock / Queensway Road Tunnel, River Mersey / CC BY-SA 2.0, Wilipedia
Seriously though, for me, 27 miles per hour – faster than I have ever gone even
when travelling downhill – is fast enough. Goodness knows how people cope at higher speeds, especially when you don’t know the road (and more to the point, where the pot-holes are). Experience tells me that falling off even at half that speed hurts. At a few days over 50 (Ahhh, I year you say), I don’t bounce. However, in that moment my thoughts are not on slowing down, but just concentrating.
There is something in this; so often we have the potential in life to go faster but we need to balance this with keeping ourselves safe. Sometimes our fears are ill-founded and we need to stay alert, keep pedalling, and keep our hands off the brakes. At other times we need to take the risk seriously and slow down. Somewhere in between the two is what Jesus declares to be ‘Life in all its fullness’. Hold back and you will miss out on life. Push it too hard and we will end up flying through the air, and not in an angelic way. But in my view, more often than not we are more conservative and risk adverse than we need be. Life is meant to be lived to the full. Whilst we can find fulfilment in an arm-chair, it is not meant to be lived there, at least not in the spiritual sense. Even if mobility prevents us from leaving our homes easily, we can still ‘get out’, exposing ourselves to new experiences; reading a different author, watching a different TV programme, phoning up someone we have not talked to in ages, setting up a Facebook account (or any other form of social media). There is a whole world out there. God wants you to live in it, experience it, to feel the reward of the wind pushing you from behind, having faced everything it can muster up as you face it beforehand.
I am minded of the quote that came to mind last Sunday morning, “Jesus did not come to make bad people good. He came to make dead people live”. For me there is more to life than just a pulse. So the next time you are tempted to tap the brakes just hold off for a second – one second – and ask whether there is more life to be had in this, or whether you really do want to slow down and miss out on a whole new experience. Sometimes our nervousness is unwarranted. Risk is everywhere. It’s how much risk we are prepared to tolerate that makes all the difference.
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Why I have faith in the Methodist Church’s ‘God For All’ Strategy… Speaking the truth about how the Church has a track-record of change and is prepared to retain its spiritual integrity and confront reality.

I find it relatively easy to forgive people who are sceptical of the Methodist Church, even when they are close to the point of undermining it. After all, the Church belongs to God, and not to us, and whilst congregations rise and fall, the work of God continues. God is big enough to handle the complaint, and we are big enough to listen, even if we become wound-up. Curiously, I find that this distrust of the Church is more apparent in those who are activists and pioneers in the life of the Church. This, I suspect, is for two reasons. Please therefore indulge me in what will be a long introduction to why I have faith in the Methodist Church, and in God for All . (You can, by the way, take my faith in Jesus as read). And also, please do not read this as my questioning our investment in pioneering, innovation and even enabling people who we know will agitate. I write also as a pioneer coach, or at least, someone who does my bit to help bridge the link between the experience of leaders on the margins, and the institution at the center.

First, as a leader I am well aware that there can be genuine problems with how the institution of the church feels at odds with immediate needs on the ground, and of how some our or policies and procedures can feel archaic and non-sensical. This is sometimes a fair point. The issue is not however that the policies are necessarily wrong. it is that they are framed with an approach and in a language that seems overly legalistic and archaic. If for example, I invite a group of Christians who are gathering as a congregation to see themselves as a church, I will often get a good response. However, if I were to suggest that they need a steward, a treasurer, a property secretary, a pastoral secretary, and a safeguarding officer (and the list could go on), they may well look at me in horror (apart from agreeing that safeguarding was the most important thing). However, if I say, ‘That’s an impressive jar of money that people have given so far – do you think someone should start a bank account’, or ‘It’s great to see so many people here, do we have anyone who can keep track of who people are and how we can contact them?’ the result, I guarantee you will be different. Sadly, we overlook all too easily that many of our regulations have been formed, by our reflecting on experience – and sometimes bad experience – in the white-hot hear of mission. Thus you might think that a requirement of fourteen days notice for a church council meeting to take place is unwieldy, until you find yourself in a new church that has become insular, cliquey, and planning things behind everyone’s backs. Or until you find a leader who because they have not considered safeguarding, ends up compromising themselves or wholly unprotected if something goes wrong.

The second reason why people may be sceptical is because – and this is my one and only objection to Fresh Expressions, as someone who is still an Advocate for the movement – we have baked-in to the call for people to develop new forms of church and mission the argument that the inherited church has failed. In other words, we are asking and releasing people to do new work – which, however we measure it, has been hugely successful, but then we ask them in the same breath to trust the inherited Church, the wider body that is in decline, to manage what is fragile and new. Unsurprisingly, people have reservations and Fresh Expressions becomes the victim of its own rhetoric. What people forget of course is that whilst the inherited Church has struggled to adapt, all of this new work has been funded through the generosity and time of people in the wider Church, who have given greatly. Arguably, if we were to measure the level of giving towards mission, we would find that inherited congregations have sacrificed a great deal. Rather than calling for ministers (for example) to serve them tea and biscuits until they die, they have accepted that whilst they miss their minister, and even need their minister, their minister needs to go where they are needed the most. Of course, I am not suggesting that this is always the case, but in what is approaching now twenty years of experience, I have seen a significant shift.

So having addressed two reasons why some innovators and pioneers might be sceptical of the Methodist Church, allow me to share why I have confidence in God For All. In the main, it is a judgement built on my experience on what the Church has got right, and it begins with Our Calling (now 20 years old, reaffirmed in 2018), something that remains a versatile tool for church reflection. It gave way to a process of change that I have lived through. Whilst the Church may be slow to react in certain instances, no one can question the Methodist Church’s ability to ask difficult questions, have the integrity to follow them through, and implement difficult decisions. We might not like the decisions I grant you, but please don’t present the image of a sloth like church that is unable to cross the road in time to avoid oncoming traffic.

Following Our Calling came the Conference Reports:

Where are we heading? (2003)
Priorities for the Methodist Church (2004) – here we identified how, among other issues, people struggled with the capacity to speak of God, and to evangelise.
Team Focus (2005), resulting in the restructuring of the Connexional Team.
Reshaping for Mission (2006) which encouraged circuits to merge for mission.
Fruitful Field (2011 onwards), representing a wholesale change in our understanding of ‘formation’ wherein previously we had focused a disproportional level of resourcing on ordination training, a the expense of other formational needs among lay people.

Methodism’s Hidden Harvest (2016) began to highlight some of the benefits of the Church’s partnership with Fresh Expressions, concluding,

31% of circuits have a fresh expression
37,000 people worship regularly in a Methodist Fresh Expression
24,000 of those attending have no prior experience of church
59% of fresh expressions are lay-led

You can read the report here:

3307-fx-research-report-methodism-s-hidden-harvestDownload


Following this trend and after a period where the Church, nationally, set out with its Reimagine agenda (a shift that included that was much broader than fresh expressions, encouraging circuits and churches to reflect on their mission and develop new work, the Methodist Church then began a lengthy, grass roots consultation which led to God For All, the conference paper for which is available via the link below:

conf-2020-4-evangelism-and-growthDownload

The thing that excites me about God for All as a progression of this is how:

• It has arisen from the wholesale consultation across the wider church, thanks to the early work of the Evangelism and Growth teams.
• The Methodist Church has ‘put its money where its mouth is’. £22.7 million pounds over five years, including £1 million on encouraging personal evangelism, £6.6million for New Places for New People (new work), £8.6 million for working on the margins, in comparison to basic staffing costs of £2.7 million.
• It is a strategy for growth that can be owned fully by the Methodist people and comes from the heart of the church. (I say this having experienced how Fresh Expressions rejuvenated the church, but was not as owned by the Methodist Church, at its grassroots, as much as it could be). This I feel is something that has emerged from the heart of the Methodist Church, of which Methodists can rightly be proud. Of course, I use the term ‘ownership’ and ‘pride’ in the best possible way. Ownership is not about us holding on to, and refusing to share something that is precious to us, it is about churches surviving because the self-govern, self-finance, and self-propagate, albeit in the context of Methodist subsidiarity. (And to that drawing from my ‘what’s healthy in mission perspective’ I would include self-theologising, in the sense that there is ample room within God for All for local churches to discern the shape of their mission. It is not one-size fits all approach.
• It holds the church to account, asks, ‘And so What?’ and suggests a way forward. I believe that the structural changes are much like a new wineskin that God is for us. Now this is in place we need to grow a crop for the new wine. I view God For All as encouraging the variety and blend of people and resources that we need. Another important feature is that I think Methodism is ahead of the curve here in terms of mission. Whilst I can see synods in other denominations are being excited about the stories and good practice that are surfacing from Church at the Margins and/or pioneering contexts, God For All seems to be a much more coherent approach, where different variations in missional work are being woven together in one garment, and no longer is one act of mission taken as more valuable, or given more profile because it is more shiny than another. We need both The Methodist Way of Life, and Everyone an Evangelist for example. Without wanting to sound dismissive, beware any local church that thinks it can deflect difficult questions about their lack of growth – some of my own included (we can all do it) – by over-emphasising (as they fade into oblivion) the importance of spiritual growth alone. Considerable work has also been clearly done on how the different facets of God For All feed into each other. Until this point, I have for example seen dioceses in the Church of England develop say a 2020 vision to reach equity of fresh expressions versus inherited church staff and projects, but God for all seems to go deeper, broader.
• It focuses on us encouraging adaptive (hard) rather than technical (easier) change. I am minded that in their report on Reshaping for Mission, the Strategy Research Team concluded (in my own words) that we were good on the ‘reshaping’, but poor on the ‘mission’ part. I see God For All as being something that can address this.
• God for All faces up to the need for evangelism and growth, and refuses to dodge the fundamental issues by overemphasizing the importance of our ‘spiritual growth’ whilst ignoring our need to make new disciples.
• The foundational tenets of centering our lives on God, prioritising evangelism, and developing transformational leadership (TL) resonates with me. I am excited by how centering our lives on God will be driven by The Methodist Way of Life. From my perspective, this is a resource that needs to be pushed at circuit level, rather than appearing as an option. Doubtless the pandemic has had a significant impact on the different means by which the message, and the commitment cards can be distributed. From my experience, this is an urgent area of review and we may need some even sharper directives from the connexion to accelerate this.
• Linked to Transformational Leadership, if this is taken seriously (and it is a technical phrase that should not be banded about unless you mean what it implies) I find the concept of ‘individualised consideration’ as key, as well as helping teams discover their collective identity and the power that they do have. There is a strong links for pastors here in helping individuals connect their sense of self to a project and then to others within a group. Additionally, I think that the focus within TL on helping people think for themselves is empowering, as is an openness towards what is unexpected or remarkable. I can think of projects that have started in one direction but have had benefits in another. I am not sure whether we have focused as much as we could on how we understand ‘leadership’ in the church – perhaps an area of further work.

• The remaining elements excite me because:
… they arise from our having reflected on our Methodist tradition and have theological depth. They are so clearly anchored people cannot refer to tradition as a way of resisting change. Church on the Margins for example, is exactly what John Wesley did.
…they show a sophistication of thinking – the very fact that leaders are recognised separately from pioneers, evangelists or leaders is telling.
…The focus on Digital Mission simply says to me that the Church is aware and alert to new mission fields, and engaging with this.

So there you have it. That is why I believe in God for All. Above all, and retuning to my opening comments about why people may be sceptical of the Church, we would do well to remember that we are called to follow Jesus, but to follow Jesus is to be part of the Church; the two go hand-in hand within the Missio Dei, Sure, we can talk about how ‘church’ can exist in different forms, and how churches can organise their own affairs (there is a surprising degree of latitude in our current policies, membership aside) but to lose faith in the Church, and its capacity to, just occasionally get things right, is really to lose faith in Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit.

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Reflections on Adapting to Change from Bridge Builders II: Leadership and Resilience in Ministry

Welcome folks. It has been a very heavy week for me – but for better reasons than sadly, the number of funerals that have come my way as per the last two weeks. This week and next week, as a product of my Ministerial Development Review, and with the support of the Circuit, I am attending a Bridge Builder’s course.

This organisation specialises in helping people manage conflict – and when I did the first course two years ago it transformed by perspective. It helped me take less on myself and gave me some very practical skills to respond in the best possible way when difference and tension collide within my own family, within me, and within churches. One of the lessons I learnt was that some forms of conflict are a natural part of the creative process. The art of moving forward seems to revolve around acknowledging feelings, and what we are passionate about – and noting through all of this the common ground that we can agree on. A good example of this have been some of the really helpful conversations that we have had about God in Love Unites Us. The issue of same sex relationships can be a polarising one, but I have been proud of how we have lived phrases such as. ‘We can think differently, but love the same’. Another, Wesleyan, principle is that we can ‘disagree well. The main thing during our conversations as a National Church has been that despite our differences, those who are part of the LGBT+ community have felt listened to and respected – as have those who struggle. As with any form of conflict, progress begins when we have the confidence and the forbearance to face our emotions and share how we feel. Meanwhile, scripture calls us to discern a way forward which accepts that we bear in mind the health of the body as a whole. I did not intend to speak on God in Live Unites Us as I set out to offer my weekly bulletin today, but it has naturally led in this direction, and to me reminding us all to pray for the Church and our forthcoming District synod, and to invite anyone who wants to share their thoughts on the report to contact our synod reps, or anyone in CLT. Thoughts shared in writing are of course the easiest place to start though.


This second part of the course – four days over two weeks, is on Building Resilience in Ministry, which feels somewhat ironic given that if all of us were not resilient in the first place, given everything we have experienced, we would have fallen by the wayside already, I will report a little more on this once the course is over, but so far I have been encouraged by a focus on the Psalms which has underlined for me that a cycle of how feeling disorientated (either by difficult events or as things seem chaotic before a new order of things is established) is very much part of the human condition. There are of course times of blessing. The reality is that rather than pushing back against the discomfort of disorientation, we step more to it in the knowledge that a sense of order will emerge. Linking this to the pandemic, there is a tendency to go back to the way things were before – which is now a distant land, and in reality, unobtainable. Instead, we need to sit with the discomfort, in that heady mix of celebrating the good things that we have put in place despite the pandemic whilst questioning how everything fits back together as we emerge into face to face worship. What will we drop? What will we continue? What will we adjust? It all feels uncomfortable but we have no option to go back; we must move forward. My thoughts and prayers are with every church in the circuit as we reflect. Be reassured as you hear me acknowledge how challenging this might feel. We will get there in the end. And we will be all the better for it, having been crafted into the kind of churches that God wants us to be, fit for our present age.

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Pajama Sunday? Why not? We have a Sunday for just about everything else – and we could in fact be saying something serious.

Sheep Onesie for sale by Onesieful. (Teenager not included – but lets give it a try).
https://www.onesieful.com/products/premium-fluffy-sheep-adult-onesie-onesieful

A great idea which began as a joke on our Livestreamed morning prayers. during the warm-up, but then became serious. I was joking about how so many people admit that they link in with prayers as they get up in the morning, sometimes watching in bed, and still in their pajamas. (I am not one to judge as I am certainly not a morning person). I suggested that I should present prayers in my PJ’s and dressing gown in solidarity, and even suggested that we should have a ‘Pajama Sunday’ in the church, since we have plenty of other Sunday’s with a clear focus. Jokingly, I asked that if we did that, what would it stand for.

The response came back that we could remember that God accepts us for who we are, wherever we are, and whatever we are wearing. I think that this is profound. So what do you think? Is this something we should pursue? On the one hand it could feel quite gimmicky, and we would I am sure, have to say that people would have to wear their PJ’s on top of other clothes, but the point we would be making, just at the moment where we may want to welcome new people into the life of the church, or those who have been distant from us, could be powerful. Do let me know? I should say that I am aware of a church in Peterborough where this happened for real at a midnight communion service. I gather that folks simply showed their usual welcome. Good on them. Irrespective of whether we feel this is right to pursue, the point is a meaningful and timely one.

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Change Begins with the Spirit – or in my case being dive-bombed by an angry bird

During my daily prayers I have been focusing on the All We Can theme, ‘Change begins with the Spirit’. At the beginning of the week we remembered Jesus turning the table in the temple. Today we remember the ten commandments.

My two reflections? 

With respect to the former, we often think of the Holy Spirit in peaceful terms; the Spirit who brings comfort, counselling, serenity. The Spirit that is gentle, like a dove. But there are times when the Spirit is anything but gentle. What we see is dramatic. Disturbing even. We often think of birds as gentle, but my experience has been varied. I remember whilst I was on a camping holiday in Norway once, where I obviously came too close to a bird’s nest on the rugged island in which we were staying. Consequently, one of its parents I suspect, became agitated, swooped around me, and (I thought) was about to dive bomb me. I was already running at the time (hence my being in a very isolated location). All I can say is, it made me run a lot faster! Suffice to say, I think that it is worth us checking our understanding of how the Spirit is at work lest we construct for ourselves and unbalanced view of how we expect God to work in our midst. Granted, if we need the peace of God falling on us as gentle as a dove, God would supply it. But at the same time, sometimes we need the Spirit to shock us and re-center us as to God’s purpose. This is what happens when Jesus turns the table, and we see how serious He is about bringing religious reform of the structures and practices that rather than freeing people to experience God, are simply getting in the way.

Arctic Tern Divebombing, Source: Wikipedia


In respect of the Ten Commandments, I have often shared the story of how one of my churches, when I was a probationer, had the ten commandments on wooden plaques either side of the pulpit. It was a typical preaching house for those of you who are familiar with the layout. I must admit that whilst I valued the ten commandments, I hated these boards. For me they were perhaps the most unwelcoming sign to a newcomer. In ye olde English they conveyed a ‘Thou shalt not’ God of judgment. To compound things the antique wood, dust, and peel, projected a God, and a faith that was staid and irrelevant, unchanging, even resistant to the modern world. Meanwhile, the ‘Thou shalt not’ raised the question of what would happen if anyone disobeyed, and the spectre of an angry God, with a pointy finger, who would vapourise us if we broke the moral code. It is, I admit, a polarised view of the Ten Commandments, but I still felt that it could do more harm than good when taken out of context. There was no reminder that yes, whilst in the same chapter of Exodus 20, God describes himself as jealous, punishing children for the inequity of parents to the third and fourth generation, God also says that he also shows his steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who serve Him and keep His commandments; and this is before we even apply the teachings of Jesus who would help us to see how God is compassionate, how the law is to be interpreted in love, and how God longs to welcome the sinner. Thus, I rest my case. Moreover, we often overlook that the law is given not because God is a killjoy God, but because She longs for life to flourish. And in these most pressing of times, that lesson will surely be not lost on us. The very reason for the covid directions that are in place is to allow life to flourish. It is simply regretful that one consequence of this is how our contact with others has been severely reduced. 

Andrew Martin/Pixabay


What are we to take from this? Well for me, we remember that there are times that the Spirit moves dramatically, even dare I say it, violently – violent in the sense of vigorous, extreme (to our eyes), barging into situations so that God can have Her way. Not though in the sense of intending to deliberately cause harm. Personally I praise God for this – but I am reminded of what a bad idea it would be to be on the wrong side of God if She chooses to act in this way. Second, we are reminded that if and when this happens, God’s purpose is to allow life to flourish. That may well be a tidy and challenging piece of theological reflection, but the real question is, how will this shape our response to God as our churches emerge from lockdown. What tables need to be turned in our churches? What barriers need to be torn down in order for the work of God to continue. And please do note, a barrier is not the same as a boundary. Boundaries are the structures that we put in place to ensure good order. That’s what the ten commandments are; boundaries, not barriers to life in all its fulness.

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