The Prodigal Coda

~ Lucy ~ Leave a comment

This post first appeared on ‘More Than Writers’, the blog of the Association of Christian Writers.


Let’s start at the end

I’ve recently become fascinated by story endings and epilogues, conclusions and codas, post-scripts and denouements. A good storyteller knows how to end a story well. We may gasp in shock or sigh with satisfaction, but we know intuitively that a well-crafted ending is a powerful thing.

How did the narrator or their story survive?
Moby Dick and The Handmaid’s Tale give some interesting options.

What eventually happened to the protagonists?
Animal Farm tells us how low the pigs really go.

Did she marry him?
Readers of Jane Eyre will understand.

Is there going to be a sequel?
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince ends on a cliff-hanger, with the death of a beloved character.

Is there a reveal or twist?
Max’s supper is still hot in Where the Wild Things Are – why is that?

What about Jesus as storyteller?

The purpose of the stories Jesus told was not in entertaining his listeners, although parables could certainly do that. On the surface level, these short tales work to amuse and stir up the imagination. On a deeper level though, they act to challenge people about God’s kingdom and their own actions, communicating truths gently and memorably. The parables of Jesus are great models for connecting with people. 

Biblical narratives can be considered in terms of two dramatic structure shapes according to literary theorist Northrop Frye. There is the U shape of comedy and the inverted U shape of tragedy. A tragedy begins with a protagonist’s rise from rags to riches, but ends with a descent into disaster or adversity. Think Romeo and Juliet: sad… happy… sad.

A comedy, on the other hand, begins with a positive state which is disrupted by the narrative events until a point at which the protagonist awakes or is delivered. Things take an upward turn, finishing with equilibrium again: happy… sad… happy.

The resolution may be brief, but if the story ties up the plot lines with a happy ending, we feel satisfied. Despite all the adventures along the way, there is a comfortable or just conclusion. The Bible as a whole can even be shown to follow this broad arc:  Eden… sin… sacrifice… Heaven.

Frye uses Luke 15:11-24 to illustrate the comedy structure. The story is a familiar one. A younger son asks for his share of his father’s wealth, but squanders his money in a distant country. When famine comes, he is reduced to eating with pigs. He recognises his need of his father and returns home, where he is reconciled. Wonderful.

Except that this is not a whole parable.

The prodigal coda

The parable is not about one son, but two. Kenneth E. Bailey wrote about the literary style in the story, which he called ‘The Father and the Two Lost Sons’. Bailey was an astute and knowledgeable writer on Middle Eastern settings and customs and how they help us understand the Bible. Some of his cultural insights are eye-opening to a Western reader (see especially Poet and Peasant).  

Bailey reasons that this is a double story, following a parabolic ballad shape for each brother. The first story tells of the younger brother and the literary structure shows the U shape as the boy leaves and comes home.

A    A son is lost

    B    Money wasted extravagantly

        C    Everything lost

            D    Sin – feeding pigs for Gentiles

                E    Total rejection

                    F    A change of mind – he came to himself

                    F’    Initial repentance – make me a servant

                E’    Total acceptance

            D’    Repentance – no longer worthy

        C’    Everything (sonship) gained

    B’    Extravagant celebration

A’    A son is found – was dead and is alive

This not only fits a beautiful chiasmus pattern but resolves the story of the younger son. Much like the wandering sheep, the God figure rejoices at finding what was lost.

The second coda however is a little different.

A    A son comes near
    B    Feast for a brother now safely home
        C    Father comes to reconcile
            D    Complaint (how he is treated)
            D’    Complaint (how his brother is treated)
        C’    Father tries to reconcile
    B’    Brother is safe – come to the feast
A’    ?

There is no A’. 

It is a missing coda. 

The audience, including Pharisees who were complaining about Jesus socialising with tax collectors and other ne’er-do-wells, are left with half a tale. Fill in the missing gap, Jesus is hinting. You are the older brother. What do you do next?

The expected story resolution is missing, but this is no mistake. The master storyteller is deliberately giving his listeners a challenge. It is possible to choose either direction. The characters are handed a stylus and to told write their own conclusion. Will they accept grace and be willing to reconcile, or resist God’s love in all its shocking manifestations?

Jesus had not read literary theory. He didn’t study Chekhov’s gun or feel the need to tie up all the strands – he already knew good storytelling gives the listener something to do. His ambiguity here is genius.

Genius storytelling

Much more can be said about Jesus’ genius in telling stories. Peter Williams has done an excellent job explaining this with reference to this parable elsewhere. Not unlike Pixar films today, ‘The Father and the Two Lost Sons’ works at more than one level for different audiences. The surface story is compelling enough for the wider crowd. The details in the precise words and phrases mean more to the listening scribes however, triggering specific stories in Genesis. They cannot have missed the moral challenges Jesus was quietly setting them while they judged him and his choice of friends.

The echoes of Old Testament stories are extraordinary – all the more so when you see how tightly written the parable is.

The coda did not go missing. The whole story is an invitation. A well resolved comedy-arc for a younger son and an invitation for the son who was lost while he remained at home which only the listener can complete.

Image taken from Pixabay. 

The ‘Actually Read’ Pile

~ Lucy ~ 4 Comments

As arbitrary as a year-end can be, having a project and a date to work towards always motivates me. One ongoing project I have is writing down all the books I finish reading; a task which gets progressively more satisfying as the year passes. Rather than counting down to Christmas, I measure the month by the number of books I believe I can read. I’ve learned that my wellbeing is enriched with a ‘done’ list, and writing it all down helps me to see where I may go next.

Is there another book in the series? What else has the author written? And what am I not reading?

I can tell you a little about what I have read. 2022 included a range of fiction, non-fiction, autobiography, poetry and children’s titles. Perhaps my range has not been as wide as usual, but this year was one for exploring more languages.

Alongside English (I must admit, quite literally alongside), I have tentatively explored books written in Welsh, German, the Shetland dialect, Hebrew (lots) and Aramaic (a little).

So, did my dog learn Welsh this year?

Or did I?

Read on to find out…

'Teach Your Dog Welsh'

Many of the books this year were mood-lifters, and although some were long, most were shorter than average. Most books I finished scored highly for me out of ten; perhaps this is because I am getting older. Or more discriminating. Or less concerned when a book isn’t what I’m in the mood for. If I feel stronger in 2023 I’ll go back and complete some of the books I’ve left halfway this year.

I love well-written or evocative prose, cleverly rounded characters and a plot thick enough to rest a spoon on. (Briefly, I mean). I also thrive on originality and wit (in either order).

Some of my reading highlights from 2022 follow. Do you agree with these recommendations?

If you’ve not already read my offerings from 2021, 2020 or 2019, do check those out too.

Fiction

'The Song of Achilles'

The Song of Achilles had been on my ‘must read’ list since I read Madeline Miller’s Circe a few years back and it did not disappoint.

Miller knows Greek mythology and she knows how to spin a story.

Whether you are familiar or not with the originals, there is much drama, spice and inspired evocative writing here.

***

I have read a number of Rachel Joyce’s works and love her writing. She takes people so ordinary you think you know them and puts them in progressively extraordinary situations. In Miss Benson’s Beetle, two unlikely companions take a quest to New Caledonia to look for an elusive gold beetle.

I had to look up New Caledonia. It’s a French overseas territory east of Australia. Joyce must have had a lot of fun writing this and I hope she got to visit the place.

(Author aspirations… must write about somewhere exotic myself, hmm…)

I do recommend this, particularly as my plot-predictor radar must have been off and I didn’t see all the clever twists coming.

***

'Miss Benson's Beetle'
'Blood Water Paint'

Joy McCullough’s Blood Water Paint is written in free verse, one of my favourite forms.

The seventeenth century painter Artemisia Gentileschi may have been used and forgotten, but her paintings of Susanna and Judith still challenge the violent unfair patriarchal system she lived in.

In McCullough’s artful retelling, Artemisia’s father is passing her work off as his own, but the young girl has bigger worries to deal with. Stories of injustice and pain are not new, but this tale of stories within stories deserves to be retold; this book does it exquisitely.

***

I picked up The Lion and The Saint by Laura E. Wolfe as I was intrigued by the concept and reviews. It was a stunning read.

This is a novella, so relatively quick to get through; it is told in first person by a lion, a hamadryas baboon and St Gerasim. Compelling and powerful, a well-crafted parable for all ages.

***

'The Lion and The Saint'
'Louisa Freya, Dragon Slayer'

Amy Scott Robinson has chosen and retold a number of international folk tales in Louisa Freya, Dragon Slayer, all with female heroes, for this book. It is perfect for children and certainly shouldn’t be limited to a female readership. I loved the artwork as well as the writing and recommend it as a great gift option for young readers. Incidentally, if you can stretch to the sister-book, Queen Esther, Nation Saver, I highly recommend that too.

***

Ruth Leigh is ridiculously witty and her poor heroine, the influencer Issy Smugge, is now established both in her Suffolk manor house and in the hearts of readers around the world. This is the third book in the series and the best so far in my opinion.

Smugge (it rhymes with Brugge) is unaware of how she really appears to regular folk, some of whom hate her, but life has been very difficult despite appearances. Underneath the glamour there are deeper issues lurking. And upstairs Mummy has come to stay.

Leigh’s clever observational humour made me chuckle frequently. If you’ve not yet discovered Issy Smugge you’re missing out.

***

'The Continued Times of Isabella M Smugge'

I met Ruth through our connections with the Association of Christian Writers and we had wonderful chats in her car when we travelled together to a conference in May. We bonded over Frasier quotes, families and comedy writing and recommended books to each other. Ruth was astonished that I had not heard of the Australian writer, Graeme Simsion. She told me to get hold of The Rose Project without delay and, as fate would have it, I saw it on sale second-hand at a village fete shortly afterwards. She was right, of course.

Graeme Simsion

The Rosie Project is the first in a trilogy about Don Tillman, a genetics scientist who decides to find himself a wife using science. Don’s attempts are truly laughable but the story resolves beautifully, works through various adventures and creates a memorable, if utterly naive, protagonist.

'The Rosie Project'
'The Rosie Effect'
'The Rosie Result'

Simsion’s strength is his assiduous planning. The books in this series are each poignant, funny and captivating, but it is the thoroughly prepared characters and plot that really work for me.

In The Rosie Effect we see Don and Rosie move to New York, and in The Rosie Result Don has to confront various truths about himself and his family, including questioning whether he is autistic.

***

'Don Tillman's Standardized Meal System'

The character Don Tillman operates a cyclical meal system which sounds simple enough, but has seasonal variations, a number of more advanced recipes and allowances for visitors on certain nights.

A spin-off from the Rosie series, I have to say this is the funniest recipe book I have ever read.

***

As a confirmed ‘Plotter’ (as against a ‘Pantser’), Simsion’s writing methods are fascinating. He and his wife write together at times, but both like to plan out the details in advance to such a degree that writing a first draft of a book takes a remarkably short time within the larger plan.

Check out Simsion on Youtube if you don’t get the chance to read this but want to know how he does it. He uses details and plots from The Rosie Result and another excellent book of his, The Best of Adam Sharp to explain how he writes, so it is well worth reading those first.

***

'The Novel Project'

Non-Fiction

'Universal Principles of Design'

I love this little book, filled with all kinds of principles of design. Some are intuitive, some give you ‘aha!’ moments and some explain why buildings, or fonts, or items, look or behave the way they do.

***

Paul Kerensa is not only a comedian and comedy writer, but he really does his homework when it comes to research. He’s done a great job of researching the history of the BBC (now conveniently 100 years old) elsewhere. However, Hark! The Biography of Christmas, which I recommend for December reading, is packed with so much information on the history of Christmas you’ll be amazing at how much you didn’t know.

Yes, even you.

I finished it on Christmas Day, aptly. Altogether funny, fascinating and festive. Get a copy, for yourself or someone else. As Miranda Hart points out, it does make a great present.

***

'Hark! The Biography of Christmas'
'If God is Love, Don't be a Jerk'

Talking of presents, this one was given to me during the year.

John Pavlovitz’ If God is Love, Don’t be a Jerk was an inspired gift – I loved it. Like many Christians who don’t want to be lumped with those who carry the name but not the loving actions, I needed to hear these words.

There is hope for us – even those of us who are hypocritical messes. Pavlovitz is provocative at times and the content is US-centric, but there is still plenty to make us sit up and chew on elsewhere.

***

I bought Joanna Watson’s book Light through the Cracks in May at the writers’ conference and found her book compelling and arresting.

There are few books which detail people’s experiences of miracles and how God works directly in their lives. I believe we should all be open to listening to these, and Joanna retells the stories of people she has met with sensitivity and intelligence.

***

'Light through the Cracks'
'Wild Maps'

During the year I read a couple of infographic maps books, but Wild Maps stood out for me as one to recommend more widely, with dozens of diagrams showing where animals are, the impact of humans and positive as well as negative sides to the current state of the world.

***

Languages

Did my dog learn Welsh?

Well, as she doesn’t yet speak English, that was always going to be a tall order. I’m not even sure she understands much English to be fair. She doesn’t even know ‘walkies’ yet and she’s nearly nine. She may be a muppet, but we love her anyway.

All of which I cannot say in Welsh.

Sorry.

***

'Teach Your Dog Welsh'
'The Shetland Bible'

Over to Scotland for the final recommendation this year.

I was introduced to this book by Onesimus at the Bible Society Reading Room at Cambridge University Library. As a visitor I was asked if I wanted to request any obscure language Bibles. Onesimus found me a Cornish one for one part of my heritage, but nothing in Orcadian (see my post on Scottish Roots).

However, this book, written in Shetland dialect, was both difficult and ridiculously fascinating. It is a selection of familiar Bible passages and stories told in dialect.

‘Dunna be in a trachle’ (John 14:1)

***

In 2018 I challenged myself to read the entire Bible in the original languages. I started with the New Testament in Greek, and progressed to the Old Testament in Hebrew (and some Aramaic, which I have not studied).

As of today, I only have a few minor prophets to go to finish the lot. It will have taken over five years, but I have learned lots in the process.

I’ll then have to decide what to do next, of course. An in-depth look at one part may be the solution.

Pages and years turn. We start books and (hopefully) finish books. Who knows how the next chapter unfolds?

***

Wishing you every peace and joy for 2023. God bless you and your reading in the year ahead.
Oh, and let me know if you have recommendations for books you think I might like!

Scottish Roots

~ Lucy ~ 2 Comments

My granny was evacuated during World War II and stayed with relatives in North Ayrshire for some of that time. I learnt this as a child, but didn’t understand then that it meant Granny must have had Scottish blood in her. It feels obvious now, but back then our family connections with Scotland had lapsed as there were no close living relatives to visit.

The last generation to actually have been born in Scotland were Granny’s great-grandparents, Annie and James, who moved from Edinburgh to Manchester and Liverpool. James was a bookseller in Edinburgh and a Bible canvasser in Manchester. I learnt these things as an adult when I started looking into family histories, scouring websites for clues and verifiable family facts. Was the family rumour of a connection with George Meikle Kemp, architect of Edinburgh’s Scott Monument, based on any truth?

Scott Monument, Edinburgh, and George Meikle Kemp

Kemp was proving illusive; he had died by falling in a canal one night aged 48. We are not connected with his four children but there is little by way of verifiable ancestry further back.

Victoria Dock, Singapore, 1890s https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Singapore_in_the_1890s#/media/File:Victoria_Dock,_Tanjong_Pagar,_in_the_1890s.jpg

The story got more complicated; James and Annie did not settle in England. For a time, in fact, the family lived in Singapore, where Annie died in 1900 in the Straits hotel. The Singapore she knew is long gone, but her children and grandchildren went on to live and work around the world.

Although this Singapore link was not permanent, it was certainly colourful. Annie’s son, my great-great-grandfather James, spent time growing up there with the Sultan of Johor. He later worked as an electrical engineer with trams in Brazil and lit the Mersey tunnel.

The more I looked for answers, the more questions formed. Who were these people? How would they have regarded themselves? Where did they consider home to be?

I did stumble across an Australian newspaper source from 1928 which included an extra detail I did not know about Annie. Something I did not expect.

Orkney Islands Satellite photograph

She was born in Orkney!

This was a lovely surprise. It means that I am a wee bit Orcadian (one sixteenth Scottish if you include Annie’s husband James). This certainly justifies celebrating Scottish holidays in my experience, when considering the degree of Irish heritage much of America claims in mid March.

Annie’s maiden name Baikie was common in Orkney, but also leads to a suspicion there might be a link with famous Scottish explorer, linguist and Bible translator William Balfour Baikie. That would be another fascinating connection to make, if it can be proven. He was also surgeon, naturalist (he had a genus of beans named after him), planner and sometime commander. There is even a memorial to him at the Cathedral of St Magnus in Kirkwall. The research on Baikie can wait for now, but is certainly a line to consider.

I may not live in Scotland today but these links and histories have piqued my interest in learning more. The BBC made an interesting programme about Orkney as the Ancient Capital of Britain (for British viewers currently available here). The innovation, spirituality and wanderlust that runs in my blood may go back a lot further than I ever could have realised.

Skara Brae, Orkney https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/91/Skara_Brae_passageway.jpg

Orkney Satellite Map image: Copernicus Sentinel-2, ESA – https://scihub.copernicus.eu/dhus/#/home,
CC BY-SA 3.0 igo, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=78126591

Life, Death and ..?

~ Lucy ~ 3 Comments

There is a strange bias in the news toward reporting death. I suppose if we knew what lives were going to be led every time a child was born, perhaps we would be reporting births with the same degree of importance. The non-celebrities. The ones who would create beautiful things. The people who would overturn injustices. The little people who quietly get on with life and bless so many others in the process.

Dramatic and unexpected deaths hit headlines however, and we find ourselves chasing particular grisly stories for days, eager to learn more and get some degree of distant closure. Reflecting on mortality is to be avoided, but the details are often tantalising.

When we learn that a celebrity has died, we may gasp or feel the numbness of a missed beat; a little bit of our own history just died too. The death of Queen Elizabeth II recently winded a great many of us. Deaths of people we knew personally hit us the hardest of course, particularly those we loved. They will not see us again, and we will not see them. Our story must continue but the trajectory is changed now.

Arching long exposure star trajectories over an Indonesian lagoon (Pixabay)

Stories are a huge part of how we make sense of the world, especially when death visits our world and alters our planned course. Some stories distil trauma so readers or listeners can relive the pain and fright. For many people, chasing these thrills and shocks enables them to feel more alive. For others, this too is senseless and harmful. What about light, and life, and hope?

We bring our cultural stories to our own understandings of death. I’ve become aware of more interest in popular culture in creating a fictional post-death world which is less unpalatable and grim.

I love watching the BBC series Ghosts, written by and starring the madly funny original cast of Horrible Histories. The premise is that ghosts from different eras linger for a period of time in the place where they died. It is made all the odder when a living person – after surviving a near death experience – discovers she can see and hear the ghosts who live in her historic home. Very witty writing and clever characterisation, although the plot is based more on very silly moments than a particular arc and resolution or philosophy. Death can be a great comedic device, but this doesn’t resolve anything – it just softens it.

Disney released the imaginative Pixar film Coco in 2017 about a boy who meets his dead relatives during the Day of the Dead and needs their help to return to the land of the living. Ultimately the message of this film is that being remembered is as important, if not more important than being alive. Death is not the end. But this implies that being forgotten is the end, which is a little unsettling. Not everyone will have a grand legacy.

Similarly, the 2020 Pixar film Soul explores the situation of a jazz pianist who dies suddenly and finds himself in a strange limbo setting. He tries to escape the tally and happens upon the place where new souls are born. It is all rather contrived, although the soundtrack is amazing. The main character has to undergo a personal transformation (in various ways, in fact) before he can make peace with what happens at the end of the film. Along the way his actions bring benefits to others. Death here explores redemption, both for the protagonist and those he meets. The details vary, but the pattern is recognisable as a story arc seen in many stories throughout history.

Maybe Disney and Pixar have an obsession with death. Apart from having characters die early in order to set the scene (Finding Nemo, Up, Frozen), there are films where characters need to connect with those who have died (Onward, Raya, The Lion King). Death is a useful gate, but also something universal; something we all need to talk about obliquely, to try and lessen its force.

Can we, though? However well we tell stories or compose soundtracks, death still has the power to kill and to separate.

A graveyard with sunlight reaching around a central tree (Pixabay)

Recently a lady at church died. Audrey used to keep ferrets and had a wonderful twinkle. I don’t believe she is in limbo, or a ghost. I do have reason to believe that I will meet her again one day, however.

On my social media I’ve learned of well-known Christians who have died recently. Brother Andrew, a man known for being extraordinarily ordinary and using this to smuggle many Bibles past the Iron Curtain. Jennifer Rees Larcome, who experienced real trauma and pain in her life, experienced a miraculous healing and had a powerful ministry encouraging others. Gordon Fee, who co-wrote the highly readable How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth and influenced so many in interpreting the Bible wisely and well. I have recommended his books to many students. I haven’t met any of these people myself.

Yet.

My story for understanding death is not based on unsubstantiated spooky or weird fantasies. I have a reason to have hope. My experiences of death have certainly involved loss and grief, but there is reason for real and genuine hope when someone with solid authority tells you about it.

Empty tomb, stone rolled away, Israel (Pixabay)

For me, and for many others around the world, that authority rests with the author of life. The one who overcame death. One whose birth was announced (despite not being born to celebrity parents), and is still celebrated every year. Jesus, who came to overturn injustice one situation at a time, inviting others to follow him and meet hatred with love. Jesus, whose love breaks the power of fear. Jesus, who understands how difficult it is to be cut off from those we love, and chose the painful path to ensure that death is not the end; that redemption and reconciliation matter.

We don’t hear of every death in the news. We hardly hear any births, unless the circumstances are particularly unusual. But life is really all the stuff in between. At least, for now.

What stories do we tell ourselves when we consider the bigger picture, and what weight do these stories hold?

He has set a day when the entire human race will be judged and everything set right. And he has already appointed the judge, confirming him before everyone by raising him from the dead.

Acts 17:31
(The Message)

If you’ve not previously considered the message of hope and life that Jesus offers, I do urge you to look into it seriously. Read the gospel of Luke, and then Acts (the story of what happened next). Ask God to reveal himself to you if he’s real and to take away your fears. The author of life has a story for you to live, and I can promise you it won’t be boring!

imperfect storms

~ Lucy ~ 1 Comment
Image of clouds with the words 'In the perfect storm you are the perfect refuge'

there are months
out of phase

when imperfect storms
collect on my mind’s horizon

griefs and glazed nights
grow clouds

wins
whip my heart

stops
and starts
and all the ups
and all the dreadful downs
unbalance my soul

whole trees
shudder

and the waters come
strong
fast
unceasing
unforgiving

and I must bend
if I am not to break

and I must hold fast

but my grip

is

loose

– shaking –

and then

then

I find that
I am found
and carried

I was not alone
I was protected
in your embrace

I watch you watch the storm

though the waters scream and rage
their song
does not frighten me

though griefs travel with me
you listen
you grieve with me
you travel too

you heal
you restore
you empower
you enable
you smile
you speak

the storms will all pass
but your love is forever

after Psalm 46
and the craziest September

Semi-skimmed Books

~ Lucy ~ 2 Comments

Are you getting your recommended daily allowance of reading?

A funny thing happened recently when I went away for a few days with my family. I took quite a few books which I wanted to finish, left several long reads at home and bought a handful more while away. One was written to teach dogs Welsh, and while it scores points for not being entirely in English, I don’t think the dog – or I – have learned a great deal from it.

Notably, I found reading for pleasure while trying to relax with others who had not brought books almost impossible. We played games. We celebrated the rain. We marvelled at the colours of nature. We wondered how to pronounce Welsh words. We ate well (and decided not to worry about holiday calories, working on the hazy theology that ‘all the fat is the LORD’s’ – Leviticus 3:16).

Perhaps I took the wrong books with me. The newer ones had greater immediate appeal, of course. They had hooked me in and were lighter on the old neurons.

A boy looking at books for sale on a table - a large industrial hook hangs just above the centre of the table.
Every book needs a good hook

New books, outside the genres I write in, do not feel like work. I love reading, but the more I write, the more I want to read, consciously learning how other writers write. Some writers I return to frequently, thirsty for comic refreshment or astute observational prose. Then there are books which are heavier or drier: some I make myself finish, but not all.

In our local reading group we are working through a book which is deeper and longer than many. It is an Olympic swimming pool of a book. Sadly, this summer, while I can manage paddling pool volumes or even the occasional lido, I do not have the strokes to complete the thing. It will not be read in full, and therefore will not make it to my annual list of ‘All The Books I Finished Reading Completely’. Part of me is angry with myself for these reading shortcomings, but another part of me – the part that loves to find new metaphors – wants to celebrate the authenticity of doing well enough without overdoing it.

I bring you the art of semi-skimmed reading.

Must we consume the introduction, acknowledgements and blurb? No!

Try semi-skimmed. This tried and tested method is best suited to non-fiction and means reading enough but not overdoing it. Semi-skimmed reading looks through the contents page, the main points at the beginning and ends of chapters and the various headers throughout the work. It notes conclusions and references and gets the gist, but is also honest enough to admit that it hasn’t read the whole thing. If every academic had read every page of every work on their own shelves, none would ever have time to mark, eat or sleep. Balance is required. Semi-skimmed reading teaches you where to find what you need in future and gives you a greater respect for the topic.

There are books suitable for reading to children at bedtime, which can be semi-skimmed with a little practice. The metaphor can be extended, I am pleased to say. Some books are suited to reading on holiday, when you need something light or fast-paced (pasteurised). There are books suitable for deep thinking, in smaller doses (condensed). There will always be people who are lectose-intolerant and insist that they cannot possibly manage a book. I am cynical about these claims for the most part. We should all be on a well-balanced reading diet.

And the occasional read of something a bit fluffy because that’s all we fancy that day doesn’t mean we failed.

Bonne lecture!

Can Five Words Change You?

~ Lucy ~ 1 Comment

Jonah’s message was only five words long.

In Hebrew, I mean. In English it stretches a bit. That’s an excellent word-to-action ratio however, whichever language you look at it in.

image of a man in prophetwear with a crowd, speech bubble says 'yet / forty / days / and Nineveh / shall be overthrown' with Hebrew.

According to Jonah 3, the overturning transformed things. A dramatic change in behaviour throughout the city led to God changing his plans. Lots of about turns.

You might have your own five word horror story. Did you ever join in some meeting, nervously sipping bad coffee and fiddling with a sweaty pen before the leader turned to you and said brightly,

‘tell us something about yourself’

and the ground did not open up beneath you and the entire story of your life fizzed out of your memory? Fun times.

Or perhaps you found yourself driving in some remote State of America and spotted this:

Road sign stating 'hitchhikers may be escaping inmates'

…which, according to the chap in orange you just picked up, is just fake news, y’all.

Five words can spell disaster. Most disasters don’t need many words to be conveyed. Bad news punches hard. But – and this is my point – five words can also be used for good. Five words can turn things around.

I gave a talk on this topic this week and tried to come up with ideas.

‘Tell me how you’re doing’

seemed to me a universal way of checking in with someone, valuing them and being ready to listen and support. We all need this from time to time.

Other ideas included connecting spiritually:

‘Let me pray with you’

‘Are you free on Sunday?’

A lovely friend messaged me to say that:

‘How can I practically help?’

were her powerful five words. And she meant it. She is a kind and generous person who loves to support people.

Compassion is not cheap, and neither is grace.

Five words –
like five well chosen stones –
or five loaves of bread –
can go a long way when they are used for good purposes.
For God’s purposes.

A boy grins at his grandmother while showing her how to use a laptop - both sitting on grass outdoors in SE Asia region

Who is God asking you to listen to?

Who is God sending you to?

What five words are going to change you – and perhaps those you meet?

Memory work

~ Lucy ~ 2 Comments

I live near Cambridge and I teach the Bible, so today I had to make time in my diary to visit the Tyndale House Open Day. Tyndale is a library dedicated to biblical studies and serves as “an international centre for research that specialises in the languages, history and cultural context of the Bible”. Visiting is always a real treat, whether for a lecture or to do my own research.

Front of Tyndale House, Cambridge

I raced through housework and morning study, checked and memorised where the elusive car parking spots might be found today and popped over for an hour at lunchtime.

Leningrad Codex (copy) on a table with other Codices

Of course, it was not going to be enough time to really explore properly, but I did get to look at some copies of ancient codices and meet some interesting people.

It’s not often I can chat about polyglots, nominative determinism or Agatha Christie’s archaeological poems with like-minded Bible enthusiasts and it is very useful to engage academically to keep my brain working well.

Remembering words in other languages seems more straightforward – even normal – at places like Tyndale. While I was visiting I had the chance to hear from Fausto, a visiting student who is working on transmitting the Bible to cultures without written language. There was then a short talk on ‘Manuscripts and Scripture Memorisation’ by Dr Kim Phillips. I found this intriguing. We talk about ancient people having very good memories, but don’t seem to be able to show hard evidence for it. I suspect that our technology-reliant generation are not using our memory muscles sufficiently and are the poorer for it in any case, but working on memory skills certainly brings a sharper mind. Memorising Psalms, even hundreds of years ago, was a matter of a lot of hard work, with or without tunes.

Some of the fascinating work Kim has been doing concerns ancient shorthand versions. The writers were not always male – in one text the scribe apologises at the end for smudges incurred as a result of breastfeeding while writing! Even 1000 years ago there were some who multi-tasked motherhood and biblical study. I was surprised at how reassured I felt to learn this.

Each passage was shortened to key words, letters or phrases. Accuracy mattered, but how much needed to be recorded varied. For well-rehearsed Psalms only a few words might have been enough.

I wondered if this might mirror how I learned some verses back in Holiday Clubs, where the individual words were removed one at a time while the group repeated the entire passage:

For ….. so ….. ….. ……
that …. …… ….. one and …… …..
that …….. ……. in …..
would not ……
but have ……. …… .
John 3:16

Or how much of this Psalm might I recall if I only had the following lines?

The Lord is my shepherd; …………………….
……………………………….. in green pastures;
he leads me beside ………………………..
he ………………………….
……………………………….. right paths
    for his ……………………….

Even though …………………………………………
I fear ……………………
for …………………………..
your ………………………………………..
they …………………………

You prepare …………………………………………….
in the presence of ………………………………
you anoint ……………………………………………
my cup ……………..
Surely ………………….. and ………….. shall follow me
    all the …………………………
and I shall ………………………………………………………….
…………………………………………………….

(See this link for the answers!)

I imagine the same task could be done with songs, or quotes from films. It is surprising how much we do learn by heart when we are motivated to. I don’t imagine I’ll be memorising the Psalms, although it is encouraging to hear about how this could be done.

Psalm 42 shorthard ancient text

The scribe would have noted down just enough to be able to recall the rest. This represents all of Psalm 42.

Psalm 42 Hebrew

The words in bold here are the only ones written down. The rest was memorised. The longer phrase (10 here) identifies a verse which was similar to a verse in the following Psalm, to keep them distinct and accurate.

(I have taken these two images from Kim Phillips’ twitter account: https://twitter.com/K_L_Phillips)

Psalm 42 on a screen, highlighted sections according to the shorthand version.

A good number of people had turned up and there was plenty to see and discuss. Hopefully there will be future events, ideally on days people are more likely to be able to visit, so that others can get excited about the work going on. Children (young and old) may well enjoy trying out cuneiform in clay. Chatting to some of the staff, trustees and researchers proved that they are not ivory tower Bible nerds but fascinating people with faith, humour and intelligence. I enjoyed talking with one of the researchers I’ve been following on social media (https://twitter.com/JamesBejon) as his work on names and literary patterns in the Bible feeds into my own writing and thinking.

I’ll hopefully remember the things I learned today for some time to come. I am also reassured that what I do is interesting to many people and that there are folk through history, across the world and even in my own town who share my passion for exploring the depths of the Bible, even in the craziness of everyday life.

Front of Tyndale House (taken from Twitter)

Seeing the Positives

~ Lucy ~ 4 Comments

I sent my son to school today. For the previous eight days he had had to isolate in his room with Covid-19. He nearly escaped on day six, but we saw a faint positive stripe on his test that day, so he had to be confined to solitary for 48 more hours. See the joy on his face as he sets off, knowing that the first lesson is PE.

During this last week my emotions as a mum steered naturally toward disappointment and frustration. Missed clubs and hugs and time together. Far too much time for the boy watching YouTube and playing computer games, before a last-minute scramble to catch up on school work, much of which needed me loitering in the hallway explaining or translating.

But there were positives to be spotted too, and not just the annoying kind on a stick that send you to your room for two more days. Battling depression has taught me to look for the positives frequently, in order not to get overwhelmed by missed opportunities and disappointments. I was utterly aware that Joe’s experience of Covid-19, being particularly mild, was a blessing in disguise. The rest of the household are fully vaccinated (he is not yet old enough), but hopefully he’ll now have a measure of immunity for a time. We have the resources here in our home to isolate him, to feed him and provide him with all he needed, as well as enjoy a few treats such as homemade cake or a takeaway to lift all our spirits. One of our family traditions is Pop Tart Week. The last week in any half term when everyone’s stamina is usually waning is the best time for a fun breakfast week. Joe lit up when I brought him breakfast on Monday, having forgotten all about it. I heartily recommend occasional fun breakfast weeks!

There were other positives too. The timing was really not so bad for us and no major events had to be cancelled. Joseph was very grateful for all our efforts and enjoyed playing battleships (shouting across rooms) and listening to his bedtime story from a distance. The really lovely thing was when he and his best friend made up, having fallen out quite seriously a few months back. Who would have thought that they would both be ill at the same time? They played a few games together online and discussed plans for future careers (currently Joe is interested in the idea of being an aviation engineer for MAF). Having more time and attention for my daughter has also proven valuable and she has appreciated family meals with just mum and dad. We have gelled as a team over this time and had to reconsider each other more closely, including food needs, washing, bathroom use, wellbeing and emotional support.

I am grateful for the positives and the way this played out did get me thinking significantly. There are times when it is appropriate to count your blessings and recognise the good in situations which may otherwise be viewed as bad. The positive moments within the suffering. The people that come alongside, sometimes as a consequence of it. The good things going on in the wider world. Previous joys. Future hopes. However any of these things, if applied unlovingly, can be deemed cruel.

Jimmy Carr

Recently a British comedian caused something of a stir when he said that one positive of the Holocaust was that thousands of Gypsies were murdered. His appeal to hatred aligned him with the perpetrators of the evil actions and mocked the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people. It was selfish; he was after the buzz of the laugh. It was thoughtless and untrue; in no way were these killings positive. And this did nothing to identify any true positives relating to the grim chapter of our past. Precious positive moments such as self-sacrifice, bravery, forgiveness, contrition and lessons learned. Even these, however, cannot in any way undo the trauma and evil. (If you want to read more about how it was possible for victims of concentration camps to forgive, do read about Corrie ten Boom).

Job’s Comforters

It is necessary to come alongside people who are suffering. To sit with those in pain or distress. Most of us find ourselves in this situation at one time or another. Many of us will understand the feeling that our own comforters have missed the point, rather like Job’s friends in the Old Testament. They see that he has lost everything and is in physical pain and try to blame him. I can just imagine them trying to take his scarred hands in their own, looking him closely in the eye and saying that he just needs to see the positives.

Really? Job replies, dropping his face. The positives of losing all ten of my children, all my financial security, my health, dignity and good name? The positives of not knowing what brought this on and how to restore it?

Ah yes, they suggest, clueless and tactless. You still have your wife!

He raises his head and whispers, But she wants me to die!

Ah, but your donkey-herder and shepherd and camel-herder and one other servant lived!

With no animals to tend! What are you talking about?

At this point friends who realise that they are doing more harm than good leave. Others of us plough on, preaching nonsense and not listening.

There are times when acknowledging grief and pain and lamenting with our peers is far more important than looking to find positives.

Jesus Christ

When your friends die, it stinks. Even with the hope of Heaven loss is real, physically painful often and emotionally overwhelming in recurring waves.

When Jesus turned up to Lazarus’ home four days after his friend died, he was absolutely certain of two things:
The power of resurrection.
And the pain of death.

Jesus wailed with the crowd in John 11, moved hugely at their grief and mourning at the loss of Lazarus. Of course it was not the end of the story, but it was a critical part of it. Jesus identified utterly with the distress of death and the stench of sorrow. Jesus knew how to lament honestly. He could see the negatives and react in love. This too was part of the healing for those nearby.

In verse 43, shouting (quite literally) loud enough to raise the dead, Jesus called to Lazarus to come out of the cave tomb. This was no magic trick or deception. The crowd knew what was what. Lazarus was definitely dead. And they believed they were well past the scope of miracles now.

But there was no denying the dead man walking, covered in cloth and stumbling in the light. No longer dead. No longer hopeless.

Jesus knew the pain of death in his mortal body and in identifying with mortal humans. But he also knew a deeper divine power. The positive power of resurrection was there, waiting to be witnessed, but not before the lament of the negative.

Let’s see positives, count blessings and recognise joys large and small every day we can. But let’s not forget to lament when we need to. It is right to wail over what is lost and weep over what is hurting. Some won’t understand this and will laugh. Some won’t understand how to help you and will say all the wrong things. But some will sit with you and weep. Or perhaps even shout at you from behind a door with hope and expectation.

Out of Context (a bass remix)

~ Lucy ~ Leave a comment

Do you laugh at yourself? I often find myself chuckling away about trivial things. My sensitivity to silliness is fairly fine-tuned these days, as I forget so much and use much effort noticing either the big picture or the tiny details of the world around me. Rarely both at once. I make many silly mistakes every day and given the choice between laughing and crying, I think finding the funny side is usually healthier.

Recently I prepared some ‘out of context’ visuals for someone’s birthday and I thought it would be fun to share them here. Bear in mind that I do study and teach the Bible and how not to use it out of context. A good way to consider this is to deliberately take verses out of context and wrap them up in free images (Pixabay). This set has a particular theme. Maybe I should do some more with different themes in future.

There is a serious side of course – it should become evident that it is easy to take anything out of context with the appropriate visual and that we should keep our brains engaged when presented with statements of any sort – but mostly this was just for fun. I hope you like them, and do comment if you’d like me to prepare any on another particular theme.

Photo descriptions:
1. ‘Find someone who plays well and bring him to me’, from 1 Samuel 16:17, on a silhouette of an electric guitarist at sunset
2. ‘Do not fret…’, from Psalm 37:1, on a high angle view of a bass guitar’s neck (with frets)
3. ‘Whoever practises…will be called great…’, from Matthew 5:19, on a bass guitar lying on a wooden floor
4. ‘What’s the meaning of all the noise in the city?’ from 1 Kings 1:41, on a crowd at a rock concert waving their arms
5. ‘And the sound was heard far away’ from Ezra 3:13, on a view of a musician on stage from behind, showing their feet, cables, pedal, laptop, foldback speakers.