Vicious cycles

I am an ex-cyclist. I quit when it was me calling for my children to wait up, rather than the other way around. They were mid-teens at that point, I think. Now they're late twenties. When I finally dispensed with my unloved and neglected bike, I didn't even accord it the dignity of flogging it on Ebay. The lime green Raleigh roadster was deposited without ceremony at Warminster recycling centre. Destined for a new life in India, apparently.

I wasn’t much of a cyclist anyway. I don't think I've ever knowingly worn Lycra. My top speed was probably achieved as a paper boy. A dog I regularly encountered in Tredegar Street, Rhidwerin would snap at my pedals until the road went downhill on entering my home village of Bassaleg near Newport. Eat your heart out, Geraint Thomas.

With apologies to Orwell's Animal Farm, for me, it's a case of "two legs good, two wheels bad." Cyclists may object. Oh, well. For their sakes, my wife and I must repeatedly stop holding hands to let them whizz past when we're strolling along the Kennet & Avon towpath.

And my point is? Oddly, that freedom is a precious thing. Cyclists are free to get on their bikes, while I'm free never to get in the saddle again. Old married couples and two wheelers may groan at the sight of each other on the K&A, but neither party owns the towpath. We just have to give each other a bit of space to do our own thing.

Now, freedom has limits. I'm not at liberty to push cyclists into the canal as they pedal past. Cyclists aren't free to run into us if we’re a bit tardy getting out of the way. Similarly, the law does not give us liberty to incite violence against others. As keyboard warriors who made incendiary comments during the summer riots have found to their cost.

But with all the necessary qualifications in place, in a democratic society, we need to be able to say stuff that other people may find objectionable or even offensive. Christians shouldn't have a problem with that, as we don't believe people can be coerced into the kingdom of God. We demand no aid from the state when it comes to advancing or defending our beliefs. Our God requires no blasphemy laws to protect the honour of his name.

The truth is best served by making space for an honest and forthright exchange of views, even when some of those views are despised by fashionable opinion. Otherwise, you end up with a vicious cycle of intolerance and repression. Freedom withers, truth is sacrificed. As Jesus himself once said, 'You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.'

 * For various local mags 

Deadlines

 

"Depend upon it, sir", wrote Dr Johnson, "when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully." The editor of this publication has not threatened to hang me, yet. But she does set strict deadlines.           

They have the effect of concentrating this writer's mind wonderfully. Especially when nothing has thus far entered his mind as a topic for the next edition of the magazine. There's a deadline to meet. A blank Word document to fill up. Better get on with it, then.

From the grandest columnist for The Times newspaper to the humble contributor to your local parish mag, scribblers live and die by editorial time limits. In fact, there's a deadline looming over us all. The day will come when we are called to give an account of our lives to our Maker and Judge.

That thought should certainly concentrate our minds. For who of us can say that the copy book of their life is without blot or blemish? The good news is that God has done everything necessary for us to be prepared to meet him.

He sent his Son, the Lord Jesus to die on the cross that the record of our sins may be wiped clean. The Holy Spirit has been poured out to give us new life. A grand invitation is made for us to ‘seek the Lord while he may be found and call upon him while he is near’. 

Well, if you’re reading this, it means I was ready in time for the deadline. Always important, that and not just for writers.

*For various local rags & mags