Thursday 25 August 2011

Lessons in French Generosity. Maybe.

I LOVE this. 

A bunch of Super Rich people in France turning to their PM and saying, “Look mate, we know we’re in a bit of a fix with this debt thing and all. How about you tell us to give you more money and we’ll do it. We’re loaded; we’ll still have plenty left so we don’t mind. Tax us up baby!” Or words to that effect. And you know what’s happened? France has announced a special tax on the Super Rich.  

Now, my inner cynic says that these Super Rich knew about the impending tax and so decided to make the most of a tax-increase with a bit of positive publicity by appearing to offer their millions ‘for the sake of the nation.’ But at the same time, I believe in human kindness and generosity. And so maybe they did this out of the kindness of their hearts. 

Maybe.

Either way we can learn a lot from this in Britain. Which is why I'm considering sending this letter to the richest people in the country:

Hello Super Rich people in Britain, 

We need you to do us a favour. For the sake of the nation. For the sake of the thousands of people that have supported you in your bids for market domination.

You know this thing called national debt? You know how the government are cutting services left right and centre to make up for our lack of funds? You know how thousands of people are feeling the negative effects of this? Well how about you help us out? I’m thinking in a similar fashion to our French cousins - offer to pay higher taxes.

It’s simple enough. You have millions to spare. The government does not. Well. Actually. Let’s face it, most of the government have a few mill to spare (but don’t get me started on that). The nation itself does not.

So how about a bit of generosity. How about you give back to the nation and people that helped you get where you are today. I’m sure if you rang Dave&Nick up they’d be delighted to accept your most generous offer. And of course, you will be remembered for all time as the people who helped get Britain back on her feet.

Yours sincerely, 

one of the non-super rich people of Britain


And for those of us who aren’t super rich, get yourself supporting the Robin Hood Tax. 



Monday 22 August 2011

Behind the Net Curtain



Anyone else out there grow up with at least one parent convinced that if you didn’t have net curtains covering your windows every single neighbour and passerby would spend all their free time watching your family eat dinner or watch TV? Anyone else ever go past a house where you can see the occupants living a net curtain free existence and wonder how they sleep at night knowing that everyone who went past during that last hour saw them on the sofa in their PJs crying over X-Factor (not that I would ever do that)? Anyone else feel naked without their privacy being protected and prying eyes kept at bay with a few inches of net?

Anyone but me guilty of all three?

Time for a confession: almost every room in my house has net curtains. I find it hard to envisage life without them.

The windows in my bedroom overlook the garden, adjoining gardens and then the gardens that back onto my garden, the houses that belong to those gardens and then I can see a bit of the other side of the valley (can you even have valleys in a city?). As such, it sometimes feels that when I look out of my windows half the world and his mum can see into my room. Excellent for watching fireworks on bonfire night but not so excellent when you've a green face-mask on and you’re dancing around your room singing along to Glee (not that I would do this either). So I usually have net curtains strung across my windows to protect me from (the nonexistent) prying eyes. Not once when I’ve looked out my window have I ever seen someone else look out theirs too. And in the previous days of school revision and in the current days of unemployment staring out the window happens a lot.

A few days ago I decided to clean my bedroom windows. And for some unknown reason (temporary madness or something) I decided to push back the net curtains.

O.My.Goodness.

I could see EVERYTHING (or as much as you can see in gardens and backs of houses). But seriously, it felt like I was living outside. So now, whenever I’m bored of searching for jobs or whatever, I can vacantly stare out of my window without having to hold the net curtain up and feel like a really obvious spy/stalker.

But the best thing?

Sunset.
Every evening (excluding rain clouds and winter and all that) I’m treated to an amazing display of colour and cloud and shadow and sunlight as the sun disappears behind the other side of the valley.

Today I saw cloud, blue sky, purples, greys, white and orange. And at the centre, a blinding brilliant bright light that I knew I shouldn’t look at but couldn’t help doing anyway.

And today I wondered how many of these had I missed when the net curtain was there. How many times had I missed the opportunity to witness the sun disappearing from sight in such an amazing display of pure awesome? And I don’t even like nature.

And of course, in typical Christian fashion, my mind soon turned to God. How many times had the ‘net curtain’ in my life prevented me from seeing Him? How many times had food, uni, internet, music, friends and family stopped me from seeing God at work? How many times has my own stubbornness, laziness and lack of self-control stopped me from moving the curtain? How many times had I sat by the curtain and never considered what was beyond it?

How could I have been content with this?

Some might argue what about when the clouds are there? What if you can’t see the sky? What about winter when the sun sets before anyone is even awake?!

I would reply that they’re taking this analogy too far, but for the sake of discussion (never argument), I would claim external factors. Something other than me getting in the way. At no point does this mean that God is not there. That He is not working. That He is not speaking to us. But maybe something outside our control is getting in the way.

Maybe God doesn’t seem to be there right now. Maybe you’re struggling to remove your net curtain. Whatever it is, I want to know that God is there. He is always there. Talk to Him.


Friday 5 August 2011

Matthew 25

This is an interpretation of Matthew 25:31-46 by a woman who was homeless:

I was hungry and you formed a humanities group to discuss my hunger.

I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your church and prayed for my release.

I was naked and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance.

I was sick and you knelt and thanked God for your health.

I was homeless and you preached to me of the spiritual shelter of the love of God.

I was lonely and you left me alone to pray for me.

You seem so holy, so close to God

But I am still very hungry – and lonely – and cold.

Taken from Issues Facing Christians Today, by John Stott (London: Marshall Pickering 1990).

Ouch, anyone else guilty of this?

Wednesday 3 August 2011

Micah 6 v 6-8

With what shall I come before the LORD and bow down before the exalted God? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?

Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?

He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God