The shame of it

‘What will the neighbours say?’ worries Mrs Waldo in Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas. Her husband’s much gossiped about behaviour was tarnishing the family name. Thomas’s play for voices was the product of 1950s Britain when the fear of being shamed in the eyes of one’s local community helped to keep people in order. Although that didn’t quite work in the case of Mr Waldo.

 

The idea of being shamed by what anyone else may think of us seems a little quaint now. Self-expression trumps the censure of society. Who cares what the neighbours say? But perhaps good old-fashioned shame has nothing to be ashamed of. Even in our shameless times. Think of the habitual shoplifters who fear neither the opprobrium of society nor the sanctions of the law. The Old Testament prophet Jeremiah bemoaned the spiritually broken times in which he lived,  “they were not at all ashamed; they did not know how to blush”.

 

But it is sometimes recognised that shame may still serve a useful purpose. In a recent article in The Times the columnist James Marriott reflected on how we may cure people of their addiction to smartphones. He argued that the key thing is not so much the government clamping down on big tech, as socially stigmatising mindless scrolling, or using screens as a way of keeping the kids quiet. Oh, the shame of appearing to be a phone-addicted zombie.

 

Shame is the healthy, although uncomfortable feeling that arises when we are found out doing something wrong, or at least something that is frowned upon by society. It is a sign that our consciences are in good working order. Daniel (of the lion’s den fame) in the Bible confessed the failings of his fellow Jews who were exiled to Babylon in these terms, “To us, O Lord, belongs open shame…. because we have sinned against you.”

 

How can we hope to cover our shame and blot out the wrongdoing that caused it? Jesus came to deal with the guilt of our sin by dying on the cross for us. He faced the shame of public crucifixion as his enemies jeered at him, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” But it was precisely because he was the Son of God that he endured the cross, despising the shame. That is what it cost him to save us. By faith in Jesus we can know the forgiveness of our sins. Plus, the Scriptures assure us, “Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame.” 

*For local parish magazines 

An idle tale

That's how early followers of Jesus reacted to emerging reports that he had risen from the dead. 

I mean, once you're dead, you're dead, right? Even Jesus couldn't defy that iron law. The story was easy to dismiss because it seemed so unlikely, but also because those who told it weren't regarded as reliable witnesses. Women, their testimony counted for nothing in those days.

But the last thing Jesus' female followers expected was to find him alive from the dead. Early on the first Easter Sunday morning Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Salome made their way to his tomb laden with spices to complete the process of laying Jesus' body to rest. They wondered how they were going to move the large stone that covered entrance to Jesus' tomb so they could go about their work. But they needn't have worried, for when they arrived at the tomb, they found that the stone had already been rolled way. They entered the tomb, but mystifyingly, the body of Jesus was nowhere to be found. 

Two men wearing clothes that gleamed like lightning explained all, “He is not here; he has risen!”. As the women went to tell the other disciples what they had seen, they encountered the risen Jesus for themselves. When the women excitedly told the others what they had seen and heard the response wasn’t one of ready faith. Hardly. As Luke says in his Gospel account, ’these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.’ 

Jesus appeared as a bodily presence to his other followers later that day. It was only then that they were convinced he had indeed been raised from the dead. What the women said was true. 

Jesus’ resurrection was the most momentous event in history. It means his death atoned for our sins. It means the power of death has been conquered that we may have the hope of eternal life by faith in him. It authenticates Jesus’ claim that he was the Son of God. 

Jesus is risen! Maybe not such an idle tale after all.

* For various local parish magazines 

The line separating good and evil

Alexander Solzhenitsyn

In July 2024 on BBC Question Time political commentator Andew Marr hailed the election of the new Labour government led by Sir Keir Stamer with these words, "For the first time in many of our lives, actually Britain looks like a little haven of peace and stability". With near constant speculation in the media over how much longer Starmer will occupy 10 Downing Street, Marr’s quote hasn’t aged well.

On being elected the Prime Minister pledged to clean up public life. Then In February 2025 he proceeded to appoint Peter Mandelson as UK Ambassador to the United States of America. Starmer was forced to sack him from that role some seven months later, once Mandelson's links to convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstine were revealed. The scandal blew up again earlier this year when the publication of the Epstein files laid bare the full extent of the former ambassador’s relationship with the disgraced financier. Mandelson has since been questioned by the police, although he denies any criminal wrongdoing. Starmer is now under pressure again, as the process by which Mandelson was vetted for his ambassador role has come under intense scrutiny. 

My point isn’t a party political one. Politicians of all stripes have been involved scandals over the years. So have high up business people, figures from the church and members of the royal family. As the Soviet dissident Alexander Solzhenitsyn reflected,  “The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either—but right through every human heart". 

Believing that your political cause is more virtuous than the other lot is no bulwark against moral compromise. It only serves to make the hypocrisy worse when self-regarding politicians are caught out doing themselves what they decried in their opponents. As Tim Shipman, political editor at the Spectator points out, "Sanctimony in politics usually comes back to bite the sanctimonious. When those concerned hold themselves in as high esteem as Starmer does, the fall is even further. Believing you are good does not insulate you from behaving badly." (The Spectator's Evening Blend email, 17 April 2027)

Recent events are a stark reminder of our fallen humanity. No matter how high we may rise, there is something within us that brings us back to earth with a bump. The Bible calls that something ‘sin’. Our political leaders have no answer to this problem, for they like us are part of the problem. But God has an answer, and his answer is Jesus. The Son of God came into the world to save us by dying on the cross for our sins. By faith in him we may be forgiven and be put right with God. That's good news not only for public figures engulfed by scandal, but you and me. 

* For various local parish magazines 

A Christian Country?

Some local councils (not ours, thankfully) have changed their Christmas Festivals into Winter Festivals. On seeing that people often roll their eyes and mutter, ‘Isn’t Britain meant to be a Christian country?’ It depends on what you mean by that.

Has the Christian faith had a massive effect on our country’s history and culture? Yes. Does Christianity have an official role in the political constitution of our land? Again, yes. The King is also supreme governor of the Church of England. Anglican Bishops have seats in the House of Lords. The Monarch is crowned by the Archbishop of Canterbury. 

Does that mean that each individual citizen of the United Kingdom is therefore a follower of Jesus? Clearly not. According to the latest census, people identifying as Christian are now in a minority. We live in a society where people of many faiths and no religious faith manage to rub along together. A good thing too. 

As a Baptist I believe in the separation of Church and State. I don’t think that the monarch should be supreme governor of a branch of the church or that Anglican bishops should be appointed to the House of Lords ex officio. Yes, Christians may be involved in politics at a local or national level. It’s also right for individual believers to exercise influence on society, but of course people of other faiths or none are free to do the same. 

We can’t link Christianity and national citizenship because the church is composed of people ‘every nation, and tribe and tongue’. A Christian is a person who believes that Jesus Christ is the Son of God who died for our sins and rose again from the dead. A Christian acknowledges that Jesus is Lord of their lives. A church is a local gathering of believers who seek to bear witness to Jesus and serve him in their daily lives. No one can think themselves a Christian because of where they were born. What counts is whether they have been born again. 

* For local parish magazines 

Christmas and a grace too powerful to name

Wikimedia Commons

The musical Hamilton has been a big hit, with acclaimed performances on Broadway and London’s West End. The Hamilton in question is Alexander Hamilton (circa 1755-1804). The American politician was involved in the Revolutionary War against the British and became the first US secretary to the treasury under George Washington. Hamilton helped to frame the constitution of the newly established republic. The life of Founding Father seems like an unlikely subject for an all singing, all dancing musical, but it works.

My wife and I recently saw the film version of a Broadway performance of the musical, released to mark the show’s tenth anniversary. We went in part to see what all the fuss was about and enjoyed it. Act II certainly packs an emotional punch. Without giving away too many spoilers, Hamilton becomes estranged from his wife, Eliza. A terrible tragedy then strikes their family, following which they are reconciled. The drama of the moment is carried forward by the song It’s Quiet Uptown.

In the song, a grieving Hamilton acknowledges that he is undeserving of his wife’s love. Surveying the scene, Eliza’s sister Angelica reflects, ‘there is a grace too powerful to name’. As the couple hold hands as a gesture of reconciliation the chorus sings, ‘forgiveness, can you imagine?’ Watching this unfold, I’m thinking, ‘Preach it. Amen to that!’

Better still, what happened at the first Christmas revealed that grace indeed has a name. In the New Testament Paul writes of God’s grace ‘which has now been manifested through the appearing of our Saviour, Christ Jesus.’

Grace is God’s love for underserving sinners, lavished upon us in Jesus. The Son of God came to die in our place that we may be reconciled to God and have our sins forgiven. Forgiveness, can you imagine? You can do more than imagine by receiving God’s gift of forgiveness by faith in Jesus. That’s the power of grace.

Providence Baptist Church Carol Service, Sunday 21 December, 10.30am - All welcome! 

* For various local newspapers & magazines 

On (finally) visiting Great Chalfield Manor

 

My wife and I have been on and off members of the National Trust for many years. Our latest 'on' period expired at the end of October. We've done all the local NT properties multiple times; Stourhead, Dyrham, Lacock, etc. Plus visiting many further afield ones for day trips or when on holiday. But decades came and went, and we'd not yet explored Great Chalfield Manor near Melksham. With only a few weeks left before our membership ran out, we finally made it.

 

It was a beautiful sunny day. The garden flowers were in full bloom, while the trees were just beginning to take on their autumnal shades. The manor house is regarded as a fine example of late medieval architecture. We joined a tour of the old place. Our knowledgeable guide filled us in on the fascinating history of the residence as he showed us around numerous rooms, each of which had a story to tell. Be sure to check the property’s National Trust website before you visit, as the manor house is only open for guided tours on certain days of the week.

 

Great Chalfield Manor and Garden is only around 15 minutes away from where we live. So near, yet we almost missed out on the opportunity to visit the hidden gem. Our tendency to neglect special places that are close to hand put me in mind of the spiritual quest of Augustine of Hippo (354-430AD). In his pre-Christian life Augustine sought truth and beauty in the external world, where he hoped God might be found. He failed to realise that God was closer than he had imagined. “You were with me” he said, “and I was not with you.”

 

Although we may be far from God, he is close to us. As the Bible says, “in him we live, dwell and have our being”. Augustine came to see that God has made it possible for us to draw near to him. He bridged the gap that separates us from him by sending his Son Jesus Christ to die upon the cross for our sins. Augustine, who had searched high and low for God, experienced the warmth of his embrace in Jesus,  confessing, “you touched me, and I burned for your peace". 

 

You may also be searching for meaning and purpose in life, but thus far what you are seeking has escaped you. As Augustine discovered, the answer may be closer than you think, “Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near.” (Isaiah 55:6)

        * For various local parish magazines 

On revivals, quiet and loud

In his poem Dover Beach published in 1867, Matthew Arnold pictured the tide going out on the sea of faith with a “melancholy, long, withdrawing roar”. In some ways Arnold’s poem was quite prophetic. Church attendance figures have plummeted since the 1860s. For the first time on record the 2011 UK Census revealed that people who identify as Christian are now a minority in our country. 'New Atheists' such as Richard Dawkins confidently claimed that further religious decline was inevitable. Secular reason would soon obliterate the last vestiges of faith.

Not so fast. Newspapers are reporting an uptick in churchgoing among young adults. They are calling it “the quiet revival”. Some suggest that a newfound interest in faith is because the secular world is failing on its own terms. The up-and-coming generation were promised a more prosperous future. If only they knuckled down at school and went to Uni, the world would be their oyster. But having done all that, many now find that they can’t get a decent job. Buying their own home is a distant dream. Disillusionment over what society has to offer could be part of the reason why people are exploring what the Christian faith is all about.  

But perhaps there's more to it than that. Even in our secular age people long for something beyond the delights and disappointments of this present world. A transcendent realm beckons. The sense of communal connection at the summer’s Oasis concerts was described in almost religious terms in some write ups. Hard bitten rock critics described the ecstatic crowds belting out, “you and I are gonna live forever” as if they were worshippers singing a hymn. Although fans should take note of Noel Gallagher’s caution in Don’t Look Back in Anger, 

Please don’t put your life in the hands
Of a Rock ‘n’ Roll band
Who’ll throw it all away. 

Maybe its not the case that, "I all I need are cigarettes and alcohol", after all? Writing in The Times, James Marriott reports that young people are looking for a “full fat faith”, with a focus on encountering God in worship and clear Bible teaching.  As yet, this “quiet revival” is rather patchy, with a focus on larger city churches. That said, stirrings are evident here and there in some Wiltshire fellowships. All this is welcome, at least to a Christian observer. However, a return to faith in Christ is not widespread in society at large, where apathy often reigns. 

For that to change a considerably louder revival is needed. The last large-scale Christian awakening in Britain was the 1904/05 Revival, which was especially evident in Wales, although other parts of the UK were also affected. In that short period, it is said that over 100,000 new converts were added to the membership of churches in Wales alone.

'Revival' means bringing back to life something that was either dead or dying. As the writer G. K. Chesterton explained, “Christianity has died many times and risen again; for it had a God who knew the way out of the grave.” What Arnold failed to realise when on Dover Beach was that while the tide may go out on the sea of faith, it can always come back in again. 

* For various local rags & mags 

'God Without Passions' by Samuel D. Renihan

God without Passions: The Majesty of God's Unshakeable Perfection,

by Samuel D. Renihan, Broken Wharfe, 2024, 86pp

Throwing in 'I am passionate about...' has become a hackneyed phrase in Uni personal statements, CVs and job interviews. Beyond the worlds of study and work, someone might say, their real passion in life is for hang gliding, foreign travel, or whatever. In other words, we consider 'passion' to be a highly commendable thing. Someone who professed to lack any sort of driving passion would strike us as rather dull. Depressed, even. 

A book with the title God Without Passions might sound rather off-putting, then. Who'd be interested in a remote, passionless deity? But passions weren't always viewed quite so positively. That struck me only recently when reading John Aaron's Thomas Charles of Bala (Banner of Truth Trust, 2022). Charles lived from 1755-1814. In his day passions tended to be viewed with some suspicion. You wouldn't necessarily admit to harbouring them in a job application.  

Chapter 4 of Aaron's  biography details the preacher's pursuit of and eventual marriage to Sally Jones. When a young man Charles was based in Milbourne Port, Somerset and his beloved Sally in Bala, North Wales. Their long distance courtship was largely conducted by letter. In their correspondence Sally played hard to get and was forever second guessing the purity of her own and Charles's motivation for getting married. What if their budding romance were simply a matter of blind passion, she wondered?  In one of his letters Charles acknowledged, "Passions are unsteady things; they are no sooner excited but they subdue again, and cannot be depended upon." (p. 61). 

With that in mind it is little wonder that the Second London Baptist Confession of Faith, 1689 states, 'God is... a most pure spirit,  invisible, without body, parts, or passions' (Chapter 2:1). The Particular Baptists were not being idiosyncratic on this point. They were simply echoing the theological consensus of Reformed Catholic theology. That consensus is beginning to break down in the world of contemporary Evangelicalism (see here). In fact the doctrine of divine impassibility has become the subject of passionately argued debate. 

Renihan doesn't approach the impassibility of God with theological daggers drawn. His approach is irenic, lucid and pastorally motivated. The writer accepts that Scripture itself often speaks of God in terms of a human seeming emotions. In Genesis it is said that prior to the Flood 'the Lord was sorry that he had made man... and it grieved him to his heart' (Genesis 6:6).  In Ezekiel 6:9 the Lord complains about Israel, 'I have been broken over their whoring heart that has departed from me'. 

What are we to make of such language? For a start it is qualified in the pages of Scripture itself. The Lord's statement, 'I regret I have made Saul king' (1 Samuel 15:11) should not be taken at face value. Why? Because of the words we find in the very same chapter, 'the Glory of Israel will not lie or have regret, for he is not a man, that he should have regret.' (1 Samuel 15:29). How may we reconcile these two sayings of the Lord? Well, we need to recognise that in the Scriptures God speaks of himself in accommodated language that is accessible to us, given our human limitations. We often have regrets about decisions we made and opt for a different course of action when things don't work out as we planned. God's plans always work out, including the raising up and removal of Saul. Divine 'regrets', then are merely apparent, signalling the outworking of his eternal decree in this world of time. 

When we confess that God is 'without passions' one thing we are saying is that he is not affected by anything that happens outside of his own being. Nothing can therefore upset God's eternal blessedness or disturb his peace. Human beings are not like that. As Renihan points out, we are creatures of affections and passions. In our affections we are attracted by what we consider good and repelled by what we see as bad. We may be cheered by the kind words of a friend. We may be hurt by the cruel barbs of an enemy. Passions may be defined as twisted affections. They are characterised by undue intensity, or even irrationality. Taken in that sense says Renihan, 'to love is an affection, to lust is a passion; to be angry is an affection, but to rage is a passion'. (p. 21). 

You can see why Sally Jones and Thomas Charles wanted to avoid being motivated to marry merely by blind passion. And clearly, passions so defined cannot be attributed to an eternal and unchanging God. Neither can affections for that matter, for as we have said God is not affected by anything outside of himself. But does that mean when the Bible speaks of the love of God, or the wrath of God, that the Scriptures are merely playing with words? Certainly not. God loves and we love, but while love in humans may be analogous to the  love of God, we don't love as God loves. God is love in the fulness of his infinite, eternal and unchanging being. Similarly with the wrath of God. Unlike us, he isn't provoked into fits of raging fury. Divine anger is the expression of God's unalterable justice when faced with sin.

God's love, justice and faithfulness and so on are not passions or affections, then. They are divine perfections, of which our human equivalents are a shadowy likeness. But in the incarnate Son of God we have one who was both impassible according to his divine nature and who possessed a full range of human feelings, yet without sin. While the Son could not suffer and die as God, he did suffer and die in our place as Man. Because the two natures are united in the person of Christ, we do not say that his human nature was given as a sacrifice for sin. Rather we confess with Paul, 'the Son of God loved me and gave himself for me' (Galatians 2:20). 

Confessing that God is 'without passions' is of great pastoral worth. If the love of God was an affection like ours, his affection might change if the object of his affections changed. But God does not love as we do, because he was attracted to what was good in us. Neither is his love a flash in the pan passion. God loves us with an everlasting love that flows to us from the depths of his being. He loves us even as sinners, which is why he sent his Son to save us by his blood. He loves us as his children, wayward and fickle though we are. It is precisely because God is impassible that Paul can assure suffering saints, 'nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord'. (Romans 8:39). 

We can therefore trust God to keep his promises and rest in his faithfulness, 

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:22-23). 

Samuel Renihan has produced a most helpful introduction to the doctrine of divine impassibility. He wrestles with the biblical text sensitively and draws upon the theological wisdom of the past to illuminate his accessible study. The publisher Broken Wharfe is to be congratulated for making this handsome volume available. Now going for only £4.50.  

Entitled

Who would be a politician, especially today? Our political leaders are forever trying to balance the competing demands of different sectors of society. If they tax the mega-rich to boost the public purse, the wealthy up-sticks and head for low tax regimes like Monaco. An estimated 16,500 dollar millionaires are expected to do exactly that this year. Meanwhile, eight million people are claiming universal credit benefits, with almost half the claimants not even required to look for work. It doesn’t add up, which is why the national debt is skyrocketing. 

Writing in The Times, columnist Matthew Syed argues that a sense of entitlement is holding our country back. It's not just about disappearing millionaires and the ever-growing number of  benefit claimants. As Syed points out, we all know that more new homes need to be built so young adults can get on the property ladder. However,  nimbies are quick to protest if their view of green fields and rolling hills is threatened by a new housing estate. Syed’s prescription for the ‘entitlement epidemic’ is a healthy dose of patriotism. But I wonder whether love for good old Blighty is a strong enough force to make a difference.

In his Letter to the Philippians the apostle Paul urged his readers, “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” Very fine principle. But a sense of entitlement is hard to shift. People are often quicker to demand their rights than fulfil their responsibilities to others. If ever anyone was entitled to anything it was Jesus. Paul describes him as ‘being in the form of God’, resplendent with divine majesty. Yet he was willing to stoop from the heights of heavenly glory to ‘take the form of a servant’, coming into the world as man. More than that, Jesus came to suffer and die on the cross to save his people from sin.

Those who believe in Jesus are called to imitate his attitude by giving due consideration to the interests of others. That applies to the way Christians relate to society, as well as their fellow believers. We should not only insist on our own right to freedom of speech, but also the right of those who may disagree with us. If we can work, we must work and pay our taxes so that decent public services may be provided for the benefit of all. The Christian vision of life helps us move the dial from self-interested entitlement to a pursuit of the common good.

* For various local magazines 

Won’t Get Fooled Again

 

The Chapel I attended as a teenager in Rhiwderin near Newport, South Wales boasted a rather fascinating member of the congregation. His name was Bert Entwistle. Bert had a wonderful baritone voice and sang in local choirs. But that wasn’t the thing that made him such an intriguing figure to my teenage friends and me. It was his son we were especially interested in. For John Entwistle was bass guitar player with The Who. Bert kindly arranged for us to have a signed photo of the bassist. The band have just announced their farewell tour, some sixty years since forming in the mid-1960s. Although only singer Roger Daltrey and guitarist Pete Townsend are still in the land of the living.

One of The Who’s best known songs is ‘Won't Get Fooled Again’, released in 1971. The air was full of revolution in the previous decade. Young people were busy throwing off the old order of deference and restraint. They demanded a less inhibited and more equal society. ‘Free love’ and all that. The heady idealism of that time had begun to peter out in 70s. In ‘Wont Won't Get Fooled Again’, Daltrey belts out Townsend’s disillusioned commentary, ‘Things look just the same, and history ain’t changed’. At the climax of the song he roars, ‘Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.’

That’s the trouble with revolutions. The old order may be overthrown, but the new lot aren’t necessarily a whole lot better. Which is the basic lesson of George Orwell’s novels Animal Farm and 1984. Orwell had Soviet Russia firmly in his sights. The October Revolution may have got rid of the Tsar’s corrupt regime, but you’d hardly call Stalin’s Russia a bastion of justice, equality and freedom. Similarly with the so-called ‘Woke Revolution’. The intention may have been good, to champion the cause of the oppressed and marginalised. But once the Woke Revolutionaries gained cultural power and influence, they soon became dab hands at doing a bit of oppressing themselves.  In a now notorious case, Kathleen Stock was hounded out of her professorship at the University of Sussex for daring to insist that being a woman has something to do with biology. 

Well, earlier this year the Supreme Court ruled that for the purposes of the Equality Act 2010 the terms ‘man’ and ‘woman’ refer to biological sex, not gender identity. Even senior politicians who seemed a tad confused about the details of male and female anatomy now accept this common-sense judgement.

But why is it that even the most idealistic people who believe they are on the ‘right side of history’ often end up acting in a pretty brutal way? Former Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg put his finger on it when commenting on why the internet seems to spew out so much fake news and other vile stuff, “This is the awful truth: we like misinformation, we like lurid headlines, we like gossip, we like mischief, we like people saying critical things of each other.” Clegg added, “We are not nice. Human beings are not always nice and never ever have been.” What Clegg calls “not nice” the Bible calls “sin”. That is our wilful tendency to defy God and do damage to others.

That’s why revolutions fail, and the new bosses soon become as bad as the old ones they removed. Accepting the Bible’s realistic account of human nature will help ensure we won’t get fooled again by people who promise sweeping change. The problem of sin is one what we cannot resolve on our own. That is why God sent his Son Jesus into our broken world. He came to rescue us from sin by dying upon the cross in our place and being raised from the dead. By faith in Jesus we can be forgiven and receive power to live a new life. The 'Christian Revolution' is based not on human efforts to remodel the world, but the life-transforming grace of God: "if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come." (2 Corinthians 5:17) 

* For various local magazines