Starting over

I have for the umpteenth time in my life embarked upon a reconstruction of my religious faith, hopeful as ever that ‘all that is necessary’ is to be found in the unsearched riches of my Christian tradition.


Not quite believing in belief. Not quite fideism. But a damned close thing!

Condescension

If you think that the worst thing about being human is that we suffer and die, then you may find redemption in the passion of Christ. But if you feel, as do I increasingly, that being born at all is a very mixed blessing then you may even more come to recognise in the conception and birth of Jesus the most divine self-emptying.

An experience of family

A family, I find, is a collection of people who come together from time to time - to celebrate the birth of a new member, a wedding, an anniversary, but mostly, sadly, nowadays a funeral - without ever asking what it's all for. Moreover if anyone were so bold as to pose such a question, the others would hardly agree about what it meant, let alone the worthwhileness of asking it.

A wintry view

Most people live as though human life is pointless, whilst at the same time pretending that it is very interesting and expending a lot of money and effort to reproduce and prolong it. A truly thoughtful religion still seems the best hope. If only there was one.

Say cheese.

Visited a local church coffee morning Saturday. Surrounded, swamped, immediately by friendly, welcoming, smiley people trying hard to make us feel at home and persuade us what a nice lot they are. Not one of them was as honest as Kelly Rowland in The Times who confesses "I can be a bitch. We all can." I personally can cope with that kind of honesty. I'm usually reassured by it. I know what a seething mass of envy, resentment and even murderous rivalry the average church congregation can be. I still carry the scars. Alan Ayckbourn's depiction of family life more nearly reflects the reality of the way Christians love and hate one another than the story we were told on Saturday.