Meditations on the Abyss

Having spoken about what Lent is, why I wanted to do something different for it this year, why I have chosen to give up what I have given up (and taken up that which I have taken up) as well as including a brief defense of fiction in general and my own personal exhortation for Christians to engage with it more on a number of levels, I find (and you may find this shocking) that I have run out of things to say for the time being. Since blogging more is kind of part of this Lent challenge (if you want to call it that), however, I can't just give up there, at the first hurdle, anymore than I can give in the moment I find myself bored and in want of a well-written story!

So, in an effort to keep the ball rolling here I am again, but fear not, this is not just a place holder for something more meaningful. No. What follows will be a brief report on this Lent so far (as seems de rigeur), then there will be a book review (non-fiction, obviously) and finally some thoughts related to the topic of that book. Hopefully it will be helpful and/or encouraging for someone other than myself.

So, how has Lent gone so far? At the time of writing this update, we are at the end of week one and, as far as 'achieving goals' is concerned I have not broken my Lenten commitments. What has happened, in fact, is that I have expanded them, boldly(?) cutting out more distractions that I wasn't sure I could remove at the start. (Then again perhaps I am merely adding further boundaries to this personal Law like some kind of modern-day Pharisee, who knows?) I am now watching no fictional television at all (which pretty much means no TV) and have committed to playing no video games either until Easter. The reasons for this are that, especially in the case of TV, it felt like only half a commitment, which is no commitment at all, and I found that, in the more difficult moments of restless silence, I was tempted to turn to that which I hadn't given up to replace that which I had, and not to God, very much defeating the object of Lent.

So, it's all out until Easter, but what about the 'insteads', the things taken up? With more time in the morning I find I can listen to a sermon whilst I feed my daughter, then spend some time in prayer and meditation on Scripture after some breakfast (as an empty stomach is a terrible distraction in itself ). This is remarkable for me, who has always found it difficult to make time for these things, at least partly out of a lack of desire. Now it can still be tough (falling asleep mid meditation is a risk) but the time is there and I can feel the prompting of the Holy Spirit to make use of it.

It helps, also, that an encouraging friend gave me a book of prayers and devotions ('A silence and A Shouting' by Eddie Askew) to work through, which I then follow up with a fragment of Psalm 139 (actually the first passage used in that book) to mediate on slowly.

This is difficult, but I am persevering, the latter especially in response to having finished reading John Jefferson Davis' 'Meditation and Communion with God: Contemplating the Scriptures in an Age of Distraction', which was both a challenge and a wonderful encouragement. It begins by setting out the case for 'rediscovering' biblical Christian meditation in this post-modern age and follows with a reasonably detailed and easy to follow theology of meditation, focusing on the ideas of the Kingdom of God being 'already' (but also 'not yet') here, our union with Christ and a focus on Trinitarian thinking. This was all brilliant stuff, and it really helps to focus your thinking, so the fact that only the last chapter deals with the practical element is easy to forgive.

At this point any Non-Christian readers may be asking something like "Christian meditation? But, isn't it a Buddhist thing?" or assume I've gone all new age, complete with incense and pictures of Angels everywhere. It is not and I have not, so I'll now do my best to explain.

Meditating on the Scriptures has been part of Jewish and Christian worship and spiritual living for thousands of years. It involves the slow, careful, repetative and prayerful reading of a short passage (or group of related passages) of Scripture, usually for a prolonged period of time. It involves focus and concentration with the intent of drawing closer to God, learning from Him, becoming like Him and worshiping Him.

The title of this post (ironically from an episode of Babylon 5 - I've always loved J. Michael Stracynski's episode titles and revel in an opportunity to reuse them) was chosen because unless all the above is done with faith that God is present and will listen, with the right frame of mind, due reverence and a right relationship with God (having been united with His son, Jesus Christ), then that is all such mediations will be: the abyss lies open before you and you will not be able to see God there.

This is a fundamental point of difference between Christian meditation and many other forms, especially those found in Buddhism. You mediate on Scripture, not to empty yourself, but to fill yourself up with it. You meditate, not to seek a state of perfect nothingness, but to find a relationship, a conversation with the triune, inherently relational God.

My own efforts at meditation are minimal as yet and I've only been trying for a couple of days, but even so there is benefit in the mere repetition of Scripture. I find myself thinking about it during the day, remembering God's presence with me and, most surprising of all, looking forward to trying the search again tomorrow. Not that God needs found, or that our relationship depends at all on these things that I have done, and yet I must seek, for that shows a heart willing to find, and I must prepare myself, for that shows a heart willing to change. These are mysteries, something we often shy away from as Christians, especially in apologetics, but they are a part of the unknowable aspect of a God who, nevertheless, chooses to reveal Himself to us, out of love. We should ponder them, wonder at them and adore God accordingly.

Having finished 'Meditation...', I'm now reading 'A Fine-Tuned Universe: The Quest for God in Science and Theology' by Alister E. McGrath, based on his 2009 Gifford lectures, some of which I had the privilege to hear. As a theologian with a background in the biological sciences, McGrath is something of a hero of mine and I've wanted to read this book for ages, but there was always another story catching my attention. It is good to have the time to read it now.

And Lent goes on...

Fiction, Lies and Parables

So, there was a lot I wanted to say in my last post and I think I got the majority of it onto the page, but there are still some important things I wanted to talk about in more detail. Foremost of these in my mind the last few days has been the place fiction actually plays in my life and thinking, why I thought I should give it up for Lent and yet also why I believe it is a really important part of human experience and something Christians should be less dismissive of and more participatory in than they often are.

Firstly, an update on how my Lent had progressed so far.

For three days I have successfully avoided reading any fiction and have spent my mornings feeding my daughter to the dulcet tones of my minister preaching on Song of Songs and Luke's gospel. I have been reading and enjoying John Jefferson Davis' 'Meditation and Communion with God' and have spent a good bit more time aware of the presence of God in my life.

I have not, however, had much time to do any actual meditation on the word of God, or spent much time in prayer and my daughter's current feeding habits have often distracted me from the thrust of the morning message. (She has taken to wriggling, flailing, screaming, spitting and pouting rather than take her milk in an orderly fashion - I wonder if she misses the TV being on?) Any free time I have had has been taken up with other distractions like sleepiness and procrastination. The sinful nature exerts its presence once again.

But there have been encouragements. As I said I have been more aware of God's presence this week, which had affected my behaviour to some degree. I've been less afraid of telling people about my faith as well, going so far as to be accused (light heartedly) of being a Bible basher yesterday evening. I've also seen unexpected fruit from my previous blog post, with evidence of others being encouraged and a sense of having been part of something God has been doing this Lent. I hope that can continue, because that's the real point, isn't it? We participate in God's mission and, at the same time, we participate in the divine nature, being in communion with the Father and the Son through the Spirit dwelling within us. Though it's sometimes hard to believe (and harder still to remember after we've experienced it) it does not get better than that.

I pray that God will continue to reveal himself to me throughout this Lent as I try to focus more and more on him. But how about you? Are any of you doing something special for Lent this year? How's it going? I'd love to hear about it in the comments (assuming they are working...) and add them to my prayers also.

Now: fiction.

Fiction has always been a big part of my life. For a long as I can remember I have loved stories and have taken whatever opportunities I could find to stretch my imagination, acting my favourites out and starting to craft my own. This is something I've never really grown out of, and whilst some would, suggest this kind of imagination is childish and that we should put such things behind us as we mature, I'm reminded of C. S. Lewis' succinct commentary on 1 Corinthians 13:11. To paraphrase, whilst he agreed that we should cease to be childish, one of the ways we do this is in no longer trying to be so grown up! Besides, Paul was using physical maturity as an analogy for spiritual transformation and he did not go into specifics about such things as childlike imagination.

Paul himself was one of the most imaginative writers of the New Testament. Yes, he was writing about genuine spiritual realities, but they were still things unseen and which we may use our God-given imaginations to get our heads around. Paul was very skilled at this and his imagery and analogies can help us alot to understand the spiritual transformation we have undergone as Christians.

So, fiction and imagination have been a huge part of my life. From books, to comics, films to TV series, video games to the stories I write myself, I have continued to surround myself with stories, to the point where my mind is saturated with them. They help form how I think, how I relate ideas, one to another. Some of this is good, it gives me a set of tools to help me understand God, the world and other people, but it can also get in the way. It can be a huge distraction from God at times and it can affect my priorities.

I'd been thinking about this for a while, but found I was really not eager to give up any of this (such things are never easy, after all) and I was convinced that God wanted me to stay in touch with this side of my life for various reasons. Besides, it seems to me that it is a huge part of who I am.

But my identity is in Christ first and foremost, and whatever God's plans for my imaginitive gifts and sensibilities, it's clear that I need to seek him first. This is the crunch point we all must hit from time to time. The difficult part of being a Christian - recognising when we're wrong and God is right. So I saw Lent coming and realised this was an opportunity to break some habits, reassess them and attempt to focus on God as I ought.

But does that mean fiction is bad? Have I given it up forever because it was a serious problem? I don't think so. How I approach it has to change, but that's because how I approach God has to change. It's a paradigm shift of priorities, not a condemnation of fiction itself.

"But isn't fiction a frivolous thing?" you might ask. People do, especially of genre fiction, my personal preference. One Korean student I met once was particularly sceptical, wondering why I would want to experience any other reality than the one God had laid before me.

Whilst there is an element of escapism in fiction (not that that is necessarily a bad thing, in my opinion - all enjoyment we have is a kind of escapism from the corrupting effects of sin in the world, a glimpse of God's good gifts) I don't think that's its only, or even primary purpose. I believe fiction, in any form you might find it, to be one of the most powerful tools the human mind can use. With it we can manipulate reality for others in ways which are not otherwise possible, and so we can open up whole other avenues of experience, even worldviews.

"But isn't it just another way of lying?"

A Christian writer friend of mine once wrote "let me lie to you" in the introduction to one of his works, having qualified it with precisely why he thought you should. Good reasons all! I now believe he was wrong, however. He wasn't lying in his story at all. Fiction is not inherently a deception, benevolent or otherwise, unless it is presented as truth. Otherwise it is merely creation, an expression of that part of the image of God in ourselves.

How else to explain the Parables? Jesus was not telling true stories, complete with those oh-so irritating 'what happened to them all afterwards' bits which, of necessity, accompany every 'true' movie ever. No. The Parables were not direct retellings of actual events, nor did his audiences think they were.  They were made up stories, told with intent, to make a point. Jesus was not lying by telling them, he was expressing truth through fiction, through imaginary images (based in reality though they were) that he had created for the purpose.

That, I believe, is fiction at its most perfect, most sublime, as is to be expected of the Son of God, but humans now are creating beautiful things all the time, with varying agendas and purposes. Some of it is dangerous and we do need to use our discernment, especially when recommending it to others, but there is much of it we can learn from even if we don't endorse the end ideas.

I find this especially true in the worlds of science fiction and fantasy. The Church has never really embraced genre fiction (to the extent it has embraced any fiction at all). Indeed, many Christians have been told to avoid it completely, often for the reasons outlined above, or because of misconceptions about what the stories are actually about. As a consequence more and more genre fiction is being written by those with a non-Christian, even anti-Christian agenda!

Despite this genre fiction is becoming increasingly mainstream and has embedded itself into popular culture. Its ideas are seeping into the public consciousness, but since it often discusses concepts like human destiny, religion, philosophy, meaning and purpose, then it actually offers us a starting point for talking to people about these things - much more so, in fact, than a lot of traditional fiction and even more so still than most people's every day experience in the West.

What I'm saying is this: we are missing an enormous opportunity by dismissing this stuff outright. We should be engaging with it, arguing it with the people who love it and creating it so that the secular messages aren't the only ones out there.

It is for this reason that I don't plan to give this up indefinitely, though I would hope to return to it with a different sense of priority and purpose. I am also still writing fiction at the moment, even though I've stopped reading and watching it, because I believe I'm exercising a gift God has given me. I need to practise and I have readers for whom giving up would not be a good witness, but rather a lack of consideration.

My writing is a long way from fulfilling the purposes I've listed above, but there are glimpses, I think, and God always shines through the cracks that are left open to Him. My prayer this Lent then, one of so many, is that I'll grow in Him and, with the Spirit within me, will get a bit closer to his intent for these gifts.

That's all for today, then. Go well, however you're approaching this season, and may God complete in you all His purposes for your good.

Shriven to Distraction: Some thoughts on Lent.

Lent is always a funny time of year for the modern Christian. Suddenly, indeed, almost out of nowhere, non Christian friends, colleagues and relations are all talking about what they intend to give up as part of this traditional Christian period. "Coffee!"  one might cry out, or just as commonly, "chocolate!"

"I really want to cut down on sugar." "I need to stop smoking." For so many Lent is, like New Year, a time to look at our lives and try to make them better for ourselves by eradicating bad habits or unhealthy lifestyle choices. Some, finding the annual sacrifice of vending machine chocolate to be superficial, seek to 'take something up', to start doing, or to do more of something they consider to be virtuous in some way. Thus everyone seems to agree that Lent is about nothing more than self-denial and self-improvement.

Don't get me wrong. These are not in themselves bad things to do and indeed if you do not believe that our existence extends any further than the physical 'self', perhaps there is no need for anything more. Lent is a nice (if at times difficult) thing to do once a year, both as a tradition and as a piece of mental and physical spring cleaning, and it comes with an overture of pancakes, so what more could one want?

I find Lent to be completely unsatisfying. I have proven my ability to live without (amongst other things) chocolate, coffee and computer games for a set period. Great! Achievement unlocked! Now what? At best I got a small sense of accomplishment, at worst I was driven to distraction by the lack of something I was fond of. There was never much more to it, even when I tried to make there be.

There was a key word in there, however: distraction. I'll come back to it in a bit.

Firstly I want to get back to what Lent is supposed to be about. The word Shriven in the title is a clue. It's part of the same verb - 'to shrive' - as the 'shrove' in Shrove Tuesday, otherwise known as Pancake Day. Now I love Pancake Day. It's such a great opportunity for eating really good food and is especially fun when shared with friends. Last night we managed an improvised main course involving minced beef, tomatoes and spices, followed by traditional lemon and sugar pancakes and one awesome Nutella and marshmallow specimen, which will definitely be repeated in the future.

Fun though it was, however, Shrove Tuesday is not really about pancakes. 'To shrive' means to confess, so rather than stuffing myself with pancakes, what I should have been doing was admitting all that is wrong with my life. (These are not entirely mutually exclusive activities, by the way, so pancake eating may continue). Why? So that I can then make a list of those things, followed by an action plan with SMART targets, complete with dates for review (first one: Easter)? As the apostle Paul was fond of saying, by no means! My confession isn't made to myself or to a counsellor or even to a friend. It is made to God, admitting to Him that I am not all I should be, that the things I do are in rebellion against Him, hurt Him, and are destructive to me and those around me. I am a bad man. I do so many things which can hurt people, belittle them, devalue them. I don't do so many things I could do to help them, build them up, love them. I do not honour God as I should, not with my whole being and I act as a poor witness to an unbelieving world. I think things which make me ashamed - there is a dark being here beneath the surface.

But wait! You're possibly starting to get the impression that I'm deeply unstable and filled with self loathing by now. Stop! You're wrong. What I am is a realist, and one with a clear picture of where I stand before God and what I'd be without Him, besides I'm reasonably sure you're about as bad as I am. "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23).

Because of Him, I know that the picture I painted above is not the end of the story, but let's not have any spoilers just yet. What's next?

Well, the day after Pancake Day is Ash Wednesday. Ashes have long been a symbol of repentance (like sackcloth and ashes for example). Repentance is turning away from something, in this case, from all those things you've confessed are wrong with your life. How is that different from the action plan and the SMART targets? Christian repentance is not just turning away from all we get wrong -  sin - but turning towards God.

We recognise two things: one, we can't fix ourselves, not completely, and in attempting to do so we're really only ignoring God and so adding to our sin; two, God is the centre and purpose of all existence and it is right for us to seek Him and devote ourselves to Him. In repenting we look to God to help us overcome sin and we build a relationship with Him. This should be the focus of Lent, indeed the focus of all human existence, turning towards God, getting to know Him more, loving Him and worshipping Him.

Lent, then, is a period set aside for being back to basics with God before we reach Easter, the commemoration and celebration of Jesus' death and resurrection, which, if it happened as Christians believe it did, is the defining event of history for all humanity and worth preparing for.

But it's difficult to find time for God. Our very nature ('the sinful nature' in Paul's letters) is opposed to doing it, and the world is full of distractions. It always has been, but it seems that there may be more distractions in our modern media-filled world than ever before. Almost all of us are on some sort of social network, which we check regularly. We watch TV box sets, carry millions of books on e-readers or tablets. There are few these days who do not carry a smart phone with which to access all this information at any time. I'm writing this post on one now! Information - good, bad, cute, ugly - is everywhere and we feel compelled to keep up with it and to add to it, making a busy day so much busier.

I know I'm guilty of this. I read on the bus or on my break in work, I check my phone compulsively, post thoughts on Twitter, check for reactions on Facebook, watch DVDs whilst feeding my daughter in the morning, play computer games in spare moments, look everything up on Wikipedia, and on and on and on. These things are not necessarily bad, indeed much good has come of them and will continue to do so, I am sure. What it is, however, is very, very distracting, and if God really is the centre and purpose of the universe, then we may be so distracted as to miss the point entirely.

So, this Lent, I'm trying something different. I'm giving things up, certainly, and I'm taking things up as well, but it's all being done with a very clear purpose in mind. I want to detox, if you will, from many of these distractions. I'm giving up reading fiction and watching boxsets in the morning, because these things, more than any other, tend to define my day. Instead I'm reading books on theology and Christian practice and listening to sermons, with a view to focusing on God and, above all else, actually listening to Him.

Now, I know I'm blogging about this and I intend to keep doing so throughout Lent, but it's not to look super spiritual and make everyone else look bad. This is not about me, or you, but about God. The reason I've chosen to blog it is threefold: as a witness to those who know me but don't yet know God; as an encouragement to fellow Christians who might want to do something similar (and an opportunity for them to help encourage me - I might need it) and as a way of focusing and recording my thoughts during this period, so that, if I learn anything or grow spiritually at all, I just might not forget it.

So, it's Ash Wednesday, Lent has begun. I'm currently reading 'Meditation and communion with God: contemplating scripture in an age of distraction'  by John Jefferson Davis and listened, this morning, to the Reverend Dominic Smart talk about Song of Songs. I'm feeling positive, a little scared and hopeful that, in all of this, I won't miss the point again, but will meet with the one true and living God, my Father, saviour, friend.

Here goes...

Shadow is back!

Copied from Shadow - Monsters, Machines and Mad Scientists.

Good afternoon (if you happen to be living in a time zone where that is an accurate description of the time of day, and you're reading this not long after I post it, or, by coincidence, happen to be reading it in the afternoon, during a lunchbreak, for example, or after a brief siesta, or if you, perhaps, subscribe to the belief that all times of day are really after some noon and so, by extension any time of day or night might be described as such), dear readers,

It's been a while; much longer than I had intended, in fact.  When I posted my previous news post about my intention to take a break from writing Shadow whilst I prepared for the imminent arrival of my offspring and then dealt with the chaotic aftermath of the miracle of new life, I had not, in fact, planned to be away for more than a few weeks.  It has, instead, been over two months since I last posted an episode of Shadow and I have very much felt it's absence from  my life in that time.  The truth is, however, I had neither the time, nor the energy to commit to it in any way and even when I returned to work and thought that, at last, I might begin writing again, I found that I didn't have the energy, most days, to do much more on my lunch breaks but sleep.

Still, as time has passed I have found it easier and easier to fit writing back into my life and so I am pleased to be posting this today to tell you that Shadow has returned to the internets and, God-willing, I will have the energy and enthusiasm to resume my weekly updates (although I'm not 100% committing to that just yet).

But enough about Shadow.  You probably want to know about the baby, amiright?

Her name is Elizabeth Aria George.  She was born at 3.10 on Sunday 13th October, weighting just 7lb 1/4oz (or 3.2kg) and she is the most beautiful baby ever.  Despite the lack of time, the lack of sleep and, often, the lack of any functioning brain cells whatsoever, I am loving being a father and am looking forward to the day when, perhaps, Lily (as we are calling her) will be able to write her own stories and help me with mine.  Until then, I had better start coming up with some I am happy for her to be told (and then to read).  She'll be a bit young for Shadow, yet.

Thank you for your patience over the last two months.  I hope I haven't lost any of you to the capricious whims of the internet and that you'll enjoy reading Shadow once more.

Regards,

Chris George (Daddy).

Grace and Glory

So, this is another short talk I wrote for a Sunday service I was asked to do, this time at Woodend Hospital in Aberdeen earlier in the year.  I meant to upload it ages ago and somehow never got around to it, but it's interesting to note that discussions of the topic of grace have characterized much of the rest of the year and the talk I gave at an English-teaching bible camp in Hungary had a very similar theme - one I felt much more confident to talk on having looked at this passage.

As Christians, no matter how sound we may think our doctrine is, we always need to be reminded of God's grace, so I hope this will be of benefit to you.  If you're not a Christian, then my hope for you is doubly strong.  This is the greatest gift on offer in the universe and I implore anyone to whom the message is given, please, accept it.

The reading for this talk is Ephesians 2:1-10.  If you can turn to it now, that would help, then click on the jump!

Commanded to be Strong

The following is another talk which I was asked to make at a sheltered housing complex this week.  The passage it was on is Joshua 1, at one time my favourite chapter in the whole Bible, and certainly still a contender.

            Joshua is a significant book in many ways.  It can be read as a coda to the Pentateuch; God demonstrating his faithfulness by fulfilling the promises he made to the patriarchs: leading the Israelites into the Promised Land despite all of their unfaithfulness.  This is a particularly helpful way of looking at the book as a whole when we then choose to narrow it down to chapter one, because the beginning of any story is always an uncertain place, it’s the part where events are set up, plans are made and we don’t know how they are going to turn out, even if we already do because we’ve read the story a thousand times before. 

            And that, surely, is how the Israelites felt at this point.  They had faced much to reach the Jordan: forty years of wandering, the loss of an entire generation, the battles against Sihon and Og, the death of Moses.  They were finally on the threshold of the Promised Land, but there was much still to do and all the things which had made them turn away at Kadesh forty years before were still true.  I’m not sure how I’d have felt if I were one of them - a mixture of emotions, most likely - but I imagine that chief amongst them would have been anxiety, a fear of the unknown.

            God knew this.  He knew that despite all that the Israelites had witnessed, despite the miraculous interventions time and again, his people would need a pep talk before they faced the land of Canaan.  I know that I would have.  Despite the numerous times that God has proven himself faithful in our lives, don’t we find, from time to time, that we need to be reminded?

When I first became a Christian I was not a strong person at all.  I was a shy, scared eleven year old who didn’t have much in common with the other boys at school and who was pathologically afraid of drawing too much attention to myself.  I was prone to worry about everything and would panic easily.  I was not, in short, the ideal candidate for sharing the gospel.

            There were two things I prayed for more than anything else in my teenage years: for more faith, that I would believe and act accordingly in all situations and for courage, that I would be able to live and work like a normal human being and serve God faithfully along the way.  In the midst of such prayer, I first discovered Joshua chapter one and it quickly became my favourite passage in the whole Bible: a reminder that God is always with me;  an encouragement to be strong and courageous!  It was exactly what I was looking for.

            Eighteen years later and I am still sometimes shy, often scared, still easily worried and I can stress for Britain if given half a chance.  I still pray regularly for more faith and I still ask God for the courage and confidence to meet everyday tasks, let alone the big stuff.  Does this mean God has failed?  Has he answered all my prayers with a hollow ‘No’?  I don’t think so, after all, here I am standing up and talking about the word of God to you fine people.

            In fact, God has called me often to step outside of my comfort zone and to do something I would never think of doing myself.  He delights in making me stand up in front of people to sing, to talk, to act, to give testimony and even, on one occasion, to dance.  These things which would have terrified me in other situations have enabled me to grow and develop as a human being, pushing my boundaries and helping me to pass on learned skills into other areas of my life -  a blessing in and of itself - but, more than that, they have enabled me to serve in the Kingdom of God despite all my weaknesses.  It’s just that I keep needing God’s pep talks, those little reminders of all the times I’ve stepped forward before at his urging and found that, yes, God is faithful.

So, it’s interesting, then, that God doesn’t merely remind Joshua of all of his past deeds and say, ‘see, you can trust me!’  He is much more direct.  Joshua isn’t simply reminded here, he’s commanded.

            ‘Be strong and courageous’, God says in verse 6 and again in verse 7, ‘be strong and very courageous’.  Indeed, God gives Joshua this command four times in this chapter and it is not until the third time in verse 9 that he adds those famous words of encouragement and consolation, ‘Do not be terrified, do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go’, and even that was prefaced with ‘Have I not commanded you?’

‘Have I not commanded you?  Be strong and courageous.’

What does this tell us about God?

Yes, it tells us that he is a God of comfort and consolation; yes, it tells us he knows when we need to be encouraged and spurred on; yes, it tells us he really is with us always, through all circumstances, but there is more to this than that.  God isn’t simply being comforting, he is commanding!  This is the almighty God, creator and sustainer of heaven and earth, commander of armies of angels, the one to whom the vastness of the universe is as a speck of dust – This is  that God, meeting with the leader of his people, giving the necessary orders for battle.  The first order he gives? ‘Be strong and courageous’ and by adding ‘Have I not commanded you?’ later he’s making it clear that the command alone really ought to have been enough - of course it should be, it’s coming from God – but despite this he adds the consolation anyway, because he knows his creatures better than we know ourselves.

So,  God commands us to be bold.  He commands us to have confidence in ourselves and in him when we are doing his work and the command itself should be enough.  God knows we are weak, so the consolation will always be there, but the command comes first.  We must be strong and courageous for God!

I always read this passage as a comfort for socially awkward me, a word God whispered in the back of my mind when I needed a little lift, when the pressures of peers, school, work, life were getting me down.  Now I realise that the emphasis here is very different from what I had thought and the result is, astonishingly, all the more glorious.  Rather than God comforting me to help me achieve my goals, which may or may not happen to line up with his, this is God commanding me to be bold so that I might achieve his goals, which are better for me than anything I might want for myself anyway!

Is this still encouraging?  Is this still a boost to faith and confidence for those struggling?  Of course it is!  God is reminding us here that we should have faith and confidence simply because he is!  God does not just give us consolation and encouragement, he is our consolation and our encouragement.  He does not just give us strength but he is our strength. Isn’t that so much better than a mere quiet word at a tough time?

But we must remember the context, the eve of invasion.  As well as being a comfort, it’s also a call to arms to meet God’s mission head on.

For Joshua that mission was to see the fulfilment of God’s promises to the Israelites and we can see throughout the rest of the book of Joshua just how that works out and how God continues to be faithful at every step of the way – often in surprising ways!

For us that mission it is to see the fulfilment of God’s promises to the whole world, through Christ’s work on the cross and the commission he gave us to spread the word.  There are many ways we can do that, as I have found in my relatively short Christian life, and indeed there are many ways we are each working towards that goal in our everyday lives. If we’re struggling, however, if the command to go forth and tell seems a hard one, then remember the God who gave the command, who is with us wherever we go and who will strengthen us as and when we need it.   And remember that it is a command from the Lord of Hosts and that before he told us to go forth he first commanded:

‘Be strong and courageous!’

Memetic Makeup

Following on from last week's article about all the stuff I'm (technically) working on at the moment, I have been tagged by the lovely Eruntane (my wife) over at her blog, Josephine Must Write, in a writer's meme of sorts.  Duty and some kind of memetic addiction compel me to complete it.  For what it's worth, it is reproduced below.

What is the working title of your book?

Well, as I said last week, I’m working on at least two things right now, so the novel is called The Dream and the web fiction series is called Shadow.

Where did the idea for the book come from?

Well, The Dream came to me in a dream… I’m kidding.  I came up with the idea for that novel in 2001 or 2002, when I was trying to find a clever twist for a fantasy novel (I was struggling with the traditional fantasy genre at the time).  I found a premise I really liked and thought I could work with, but then when I tried to write it I kept getting bored.  I’ve come back to it several times over the last decade or so and only recently have I found the right voice and the right sense of setting to really feel comfortable with it.

Shadow on the other hand came to me originally as an idea for a piece of chain fiction to write with friends.  I wanted to explore the idea of a city on another world which would be humanity’s true origin, wild and dark.  It never happened.  Then, when I was bored in work one day I started writing this story for a friend and the setting of the city of Shadow seemed perfect for what I wanted to do.  The city has turned out very differently from what I had originally intended, of course, but the base ideas are still there and keep growing all the time.

What genre does your book fall into?

An easy one this!  The Dream is a traditional fantasy novel (or trilogy) with, what I hope is, a fairly unique twist (no spoilers here!)  Shadow on the other hand is a mostly light-hearted Steampunk-lite fantasy tale.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

You know, for all that I love the idea of my stories being turned into films (in contrast to my wife) I am rubbish at thinking of actors in connection to my characters.  I can see them and they don’t look like people I know, mostly.  Having said that, Siren from Shadow was always supposed to look a bit like Kaley Cuoco with her hair dyed black and  Gulliver was inspired by Mackenzie Crook’s Ragetti from Pirates of the Caribbean.

What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

The Dream:  The world of Erinëa is falling apart: people vanish without a trace, wars and plagues are rife, a darkness spreads across the lands that is more than the mere absence of light and for four young friends - a bard, a priest, a mountain guide and a soldier – there will be a personal journey that will change the way they think about the world and themselves.

Shadow:  Ellis Graves is a normal English lad with his fair share of relationship troubles and identity issues, but when he finds himself inexplicably sucked into the world of Shadow - a world of monsters, machines and mad scientists – he finds himself a pawn in a much larger game; the goal: Earth.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Shadow is already being published weekly online.  I have vague plans to release each volume of it in eBook form as well.

The Dream is really too early in development (yes, even after a decade) to say what will become of it.  I’m not sure I’m really good enough a writer to attempt anything beyond self-publishing anyway, but who knows?

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

This question is really non-applicable, I think. The Dream is unfinished and Shadow is an ongoing serial publication.  Still, the former has been worked on, on and off, for around a decade and the latter for about five years.

To what other books in your genre would you compare this story?

Again, this is another tricky question.  The Dream is, ostensibly, at least, a traditional fantasy and that means it carries a lot of that baggage of that genre with it.  Part of the reason it’s taken me so long to get going well with it is because I was unhappy with the clichés I was trotting out with every page.  The current version plays about with the setting a bit more even before the twist which, I hope, makes it a lot more unique in its genre.  I could compare it to some well-known sci-fi properties instead, but, I’m afraid, that would constitute a spoiler.

As for Shadow, I’m actually woefully under-read in the Steampunk genre and am not sure what it might be like.  It’s really my own take on it and it’s a lot more light-hearted and frivolous (with far less attention to detail) than many would be.  It certainly doesn’t aspire to be good literature, just an entertaining weekly read and an exploration of a crazy and, I hope, fairly original world.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

I’ve discussed inspiration already, I think, but I will say that The Dream was partly inspired by a famous Science Fiction film, which led me, eventually, to ask the question, ‘What would a fantasy version of this be like?’.  Shadow was inspired by not enough work to do in a Call Centre, ha ha!

What else about your book might pique your reader’s interest?

As I’ve said before, The Dream is a hopefully fairly original twist on the traditional fantasy genre and I hope it’s premise will intrigue and entertain.  Shadow is like an ongoing Steampunk fantasy TV series, only written down and with a bigger special effects budget.  If either of these things sound like your thing then, chances are, you’d find reading them worth your while.

Here endeth the meme.  I know I'm supposed to tag someone else now but (sad admission) I don't have anyone else to tag and not just because I don't know anyone else working on any writing right now.  Oh well.  If you're reading this and this applies to you, consider yourself tagged and please post a link to your completed meme in the comments!

Words, Words and More Words.

I'm a very undisciplined writer, aren't I?

The reason there have been no new posts for a while (or any regular posts, ever) on this blog is that I am poor at making the time to write.  The reason Shadow continues as it does is mainly because I have a deadline built in to writing it, which encourages me to hurry up a little, and because I do most of m y writing for it during my breaks at work as part of the necessary process of escapism.

Murkland fairs less well.  I was writing that in the mornings before breakfast and then winter hit and all I wanted to do was sleep.  I resolved this year that I would finish it before Easter, but apart from that New Year entry, I have not managed to work on it since.

Why am I recounting this tale of slovenly writing?

Well, the reason is that my wife, the beautiful Eruntane, whose own blog can be found here, has just finished writing her first full attempt at a novel and it has put me in that itchy typing finger kinda mood, indeed, the last few weeks of increasingly fervent writing from her part has meant that I've been keen to get something more serious done for a while.

Well, what have I achieved?

To be honest, not a lot.  What I have done is to unearth the novel I began writing as part of 2011's NaNoWriMo, The Dream and try to sort out some of the formatting issues it developed when I downloaded it from the free online writing software I had been using to keep working on it during breaks at work (recurring theme?).  I have thus far managed to reformat about six chapters and have made some of them available for friends to read, which will hopefully result in a little feedback and thus the encouragement I need to continue working on it.

I'm dreadful.  You think those pleas for comments on Shadow are because I want feedback?  Well, yes, they are a little, but mostly they are because I just want proof that people are reading my stuff.  If you read it, I will write it, otherwise I'm likely to loose interest...

Anyway, this seems like as good a time as any to survey my current list of writing projects, either ongoing, or merely in a holding pattern in my head.  It looks something like this:

Shadow - The ongoing Steampunk fantasy web fiction series.

Murkland - A Supernatural horror web fiction  novella, currently on hiatus.

The Dream - A fantasy novel or trilogy of novels with what I hope to be an interesting twist.  It has been attempted to be written about four or five times since 2001 when the idea first occured to me. Currently sitting at about 53,000 words thanks to NaNoWriMo 2011.

DARKSYDE - A Gothic fantasy/Noir novel and set of short stories totaling around 100,000 words,  The novel has been untouched for about eight years now and the last short story was finished about five years ago.  It may, one day, be suitable for web fiction, or as a novel, but much of it would need to be rewritten either way.

Chronicles of Dust and Air - An anime-inspired wild-west/steampunk fantasy story intended to be made up of several different POV character stories which would intertwine with a strong allegorical element.  It currently exists in only two chapters.  It could be suitable as web fiction or as a novel, although I'm veering more towards the former, despite the lack of money in it.

Kemet - A fantasy tale inspired by Egyptian mythology and the works of C.S. Lewis, which I original orchestrated as a fairly successful piece of roleplaying/chain fiction with some friends and which I one day hope to re-write, probably as web fiction.

Music of the Gears - A very roughly sketched out science fiction story most probably inspired by George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire novels.  It would involve some Steampunk elements as well as some elements of medieval history and Imperial Rome to conjure up a decadent future empire rife with schemes and intrigues.

It would seem that my mind is a busy place to be some times.  Remember that the next time I just stare vacantly into space...

Creative Christians

This is a talk I have been working on for the last week or so and which I gave as part of a small service at a sheltered housing complex in Aberdeen today.  The core issue is one I have been considering for some time and being asked to do this talk seemed to be a good opportunity to solidify my thoughts and seek the Lord on the topic.  I hope that it is, in some way at least, edifying.

Job 38: 4-7

Exodus 31: 1-11

            There has been something bothering me about the Christian community for a while now, an issue I cannot fully make sense of, a question that I gnaw at from time to time, hoping to find a satisfactory answer.  To my shame, or perhaps to our shame, I haven’t found one yet.

            It is a question that comes up every time a well-meaning friend recommends another Christian band or novel and I find out they are no more to my taste than any of the others.  It is a question which arises every time I read the works of C S Lewis, or see a spiritual painting by one of the masters in a gallery, yet see no analogue in modern Christian life.  It is a question cowering within me every time the world tells us that Christians are boring and that God is irrelevant.

            What is the question?

            In the simplest form I can muster it would be this: Why aren’t Christians today more creative?

As part of our life and worship we are supposed to become more like God every day, to reflect his image outwards into a world that doesn’t know him as it should.  We know that God is loving and merciful and so individuals seek to help those they can and Christian charities lead the way in many areas of humanitarian work.  We reveal the loving character of God in our practical Christian lives.  We also know that God judges the world with righteousness, and as Christians we are certainly very good at appearing judgemental, even if that’s not actually the same thing, or to be commended in any way.

We were made to reflect the image of God and whether we give a pure reflection or not, how we behave, how we react to situations and how we express ourselves will always help the world to form an opinion of our Heavenly Father.  We know this!  We strive to live better lives and to present an outward image of godly living that can serve as a witness to the world.  It takes up hours of sermon time, of bible studies and commentaries, and this is as it should be, but it is far, far less often that we will be spurred on to acts of creativity, or hear encouragement for the creative Christian.

We worship the God of the universe – the most creative, imaginative person in existence, who has ever existed and ever will exist.  This is the God who made stars and solar systems by the billion, dusting space with nebulae and galaxies over distances it is impossible for the human mind to comprehend, who created the awesome diversity, complexity and beauty of every living thing, from blue whales to amoebae, buttercups to redwoods. This is the God who sculpted the Himalayas, the Rockies and the Andes and gave the birds their song.

In the passage from Job we see just this aspect of God at work, explained to us in terms we can understand and which, it seems, God himself relates to: God as craftsman, a master builder perfecting his art.  Whilst God was making a different point entirely to Job, the description of his creative work is also a significant insight into God’s attitude towards creativity.  God does not consider creation a simple, one-off act of thought, but a work of care and attention and, as verse 7 clearly suggests to us, of great beauty.

God’s Creation is Art with a capital A.  It was made to be seen, enjoyed, investigated and debated.  It was made to have meaning found in it and it was made to transcend all meaning.  And, like all art, it is at times controversial.  If you’re not convinced try asking a group of Christians for their opinion on spiders, or Brussels sprouts...

My point is this: God is the ultimate artist and creativity is a fundamental part of who he is and how he acts, and yet I do not see all that much creativity at work in the Christian community today.

I do not deny that there is creativity, but if we are to be emulating God in this, being his representatives in this world, our art should be the most beautiful and diverse art after Creation itself.  We seem to get stuck in a rut, or think that only a very few media, styles or genres are really acceptable.  We shoot ourselves in the foot.

If we look at the Exodus passage, then, we can see the importance God puts on creativity within his people.

Firstly he chooses Bezalel.  As Christians we understand the significance of being chosen for God by any task, but the Hebrew is a bit more specific and many older translations reflect this.  The KJV, for example, says ‘I have called by name Bezalel’.  This turn of phrase denotes God choosing Bezalel for a specific and, above all, important task.  It is an extremely high honour.

Secondly God fills Bezalel with his Spirit.  This is in fact the first instance in the Bible where someone is specifically mentioned as having been filled with God’s spirit and whereas we might assume God might anoint someone in this way for a role as a great political, spiritual or martial leader, God’s aim here is quite different.  This is God commissioning an artist, but unlike any other patron in the history of art God not only provides the goals to be met and the means to meet it, but the very skills to be used on the way – ‘skill, knowledge and ability in all kinds of craftsmanship’.  As in all other good things, God sets the ultimate example.

Has God called any of us by name?  Has God filled us with the Spirit?

As Christians we are all called to use our different gifts and talents, and whilst none of us is likely to be asked to make a new tabernacle, we have all been commissioned by Christ to go out into the world and make disciples of all men.  As long as the world is inspired and encouraged by great art and music and literature it is part of that mission to see that at least some of that art glorifies the God who made it all possible.

We are not all Michelangelo, we cannot all write like Shakespeare, or compose like Handel; we might not have the design talent of William Morris, or the directorial talent of Hitchcock and, if I can expand our ideas of creativity a little further, we won’t all be able to program video games like Warren Spector or Peter Molyneaux, but somewhere in the Church there is a Christian who will.

So, two things:

            Firstly, as Christians we should reflect the beauty of the world and of our God in our creativity, whatever form, large or small that takes, to inspire others and glorify God in all his creative genius.  That creativity doesn’t always have to be overtly Christian, any more than the work we do might be, or the conversations we have each day, but in that same way it must be done with him in mind and for his glory.

            Secondly, we should encourage others whose gifts lie firmly in this area to use them and to exercise their God-given talent along with their Christ-won freedom to show the world that God still inspires, he still commissions, he is still endlessly imaginative and he is still the most beautiful, the most complex and the most meaningful of all.

A Night to Remember

The following is the text of a talk I gave today at a small half hour service I led at a sheltered housing complex in Aberdeen.  I post it here because it sums up a number of different things I've been thinking about recently and wanted to share, but couldn't quite find the words until this challenged me to organise my thoughts properly.  The Bible passage for the talk was Luke 22, 7 -19.

2012 is a funny year, isn’t it?  There are so many things happening this year, especially for those of us living in the United Kingdom.  The Queen’s Diamond Jubilee.  The Olympics.  Lots of events are being planned to tie in with both of those.  And then there’s the one for those with a more outlandish taste, the end of the world as we know it on December 23^rd – or, at least, if you believe certain mis-readings of the ancient Mayan calendar...  There are lots of events, things to look forward to or dread, occasions to look to the future and those that recall the past.

            For me 2012 was always going to be a year that seemed centred on one of the latter, a link to the past.  Two weeks ago, on the 15^th of April, it was the 100^th anniversary of the sinking of the RMS Titanic.  For as long as I can remember I’ve been fascinated by that ship: a work of supreme Edwardian elegance, an engineering triumph, a terrible, unexpected disaster and a grave in the cold depths of the lonely Atlantic.

            I have no particular connection to the ship.  None of my relatives were passengers on her that I know of,  nor did they serve on board or help to build her.  She sank 71 years before I was born.  My only connections, as I see it, are that I was born in Birkenhead, on the other side of the Mersey from where she was conceived in the offices of the White Star Line, and I grew up in the small coastal town of Donaghadee in Northern Ireland, around the corner from Belfast Lough where she was born and first set sail with hundreds watching her.  They would have been able to see her from Donaghadee harbour, I imagine, waving and cheering in their best clothes.

            Despite this, I was haunted that weekend, two weeks ago.  The wreck of the Titanic seemed to call to me, to burden me with its immense weight, with its 1,514 lost souls.  It felt real to me in a very unnatural way and it was actually difficult for me to focus on much else.  I found it strange at the time, having, in a macabre sort of way, looked forward to the anniversary, but I was glad to see it finally pass, without ever knowing why I felt anything for it at all.

            Which brings me to another anniversary of sorts this month.  The week before it had been Easter.  I was privileged enough to have been part of the Aberdeen Passion and so, for once, I felt very strongly connected to the whole event, having, or so it seemed, relived the final days of Jesus’ life several times that weekend, albeit from the rather inauspicious role of a Pharisee.  In the midst of the all the emotions we experienced that weekend, excitement and nervousness, sorrow and joy, I couldn’t help but wonder why I didn’t feel like that all the time.

It highlighted for me how distant I can feel from the Easter story at other times, or even at other Easters.  After the Titanic commemoration I found myself wondering, why do I feel connected to a ship wreck that has nothing to do with me and yet can feel distant when reflecting on the core history of my faith?

            I thought about it a lot and in doing so realised something quite precious.  I was brought back to thinking about a different night to remember, the night of Maundy Thursday, before Jesus was arrested.  The night of the last supper.

            During the course of that meal Jesus did something very important for people like me, prone to forgetting the wonderful things he has done.  He instituted a sacrament, in which we are reminded of all that he has done for us, but he didn’t just give us a religious ritual to perform, or a trial to pass.  No.  He gave us a meal: a meal to share with friends.  Isn’t that astounding?

            Jesus has always known the full depth of human weakness.  He knew that we were lost to sin and deserved punishment, so he came to earth to take that punishment in our place.  He knew that we would struggle to repent of our sins, even in light of what he had done, so before he started his ministry he who was without sin was baptised in the river Jordan and repented for us.  And he knew that despite all of that, we would forget and we would let the enemy distract us with other fixations and ideas, so he gave us a simple, joyful thing to do, sharing a meal with our friends, to make sure we would always remember the path to our salvation.  What a kind, what a gracious God we have.

            God is a God who remembers.  That much is clear to anyone who reads the bible, especially the old testament.  His people cry out to him again and again, ‘Remember us, oh Lord!’ and he does, faithfully.  And he commands us to remember, over and over again: to remember the things he has done for us and the commands he has given.  Remembering, it seems is an integral part of both who God is and what we are called to do as Christians, living our lives following his pattern. But in the communion meal, the bread and the wine, Jesus body and blood, it seems to me that, once again, God is doing something for us because we’re no good at it.  He is remembering for us.

            I still don’t know why the Titanic calls to me so much.  There are lots of reasons, I suppose, the glamour of the ship, the portentous period in history, the tales of heroism and cowardice…  I don’t know.  In the end it’s just one instance in history.  One disaster.

            And I don’t know why Easter is sometimes more distant to me than that, an event confined to the pages of the bible, even though it’s an event which rewrote the universe and transforms the lives of those that follow Jesus forever.

But I know that God will keep reminding me, calling me back to him again and again as I partake of the bread and wine, and for that I am grateful.  What does it say to you?

Murkland live this evening!

Murkland will go live this evening at 6pm British Summer Time.

Coming Soon: Murkland

Seraphic Worlds has just received a make-over.  I'm not 100% sure that this is the look I'll be sticking with, but it is already looking a bit fresher and a bit more suited to the use I intend to make of it, i.e. a hub for my web fiction projects.

Which brings me to the point of this post - to announce the newest addition to my web fiction portfolio, Murkland, which will be up and available to read later this week.

Murkland is a horror story in the vein of Konami's Silent Hill series of video games.  Set in an ancient Scottish city on the longest night of the year, it will see four strangers have to come together to face their personal demons and the demons of the city's past.  It's update schedule is still to be decided, but it's likely to be updated twice a week with shorter updates than those you might be used to from Shadow.

Look out for more info in the coming days.

Just like startin' over

So, once again I make the attempt to resurrect this blog, although this time I have a more reliable purpose in mind for it and one which I think it will be better suited for.

So, from now on, Seraphic Worlds will serve as a sort of hub and commentary blog for my web fiction series, of which at this precise moment there is but one, but I am working on another at this very moment (well, not literally) and I have a few other ideas up my sleeve for further down the line.  Until any of these other projects surface I will use this blog for any news, commentaries or whatever that relate to Shadow, although I will still post news articles in the Shadow blog itself as well, just so no one is left out.

But what of this new project, I hear you ask?  Well, I can tell you that, just like Shadow, it's not really new.  It's something I was working on a few years ago and put on hold for a few other projects and, as is so often the case, I never got the time to go back to it.  So, it seems I am going back to it now and I'm rediscovering that I actually rather liked it and that it's format might lend itself particularly well to serialised web fiction.  It is very different from Shadow.  Here's a list of comparisons:

Shadow is a fantasy adventure story, [Project Name] is a supernatural horror story.

Shadow is aimed at a wide audience, suitable for almost all ages, [Project Name] is suitable for adults only.

Shadow has no definite end point, being an ongoing, TV series-like tale, [Project Name] was intended to be a Novella - it may get extended some in this format, but it will always have an end point in mind.

And those are just for starters.

So, if you like supernatural horror and particularly if you a fan of the Silent Hill series of video games/films/comics, then you will probably want to keep an eye out for when [Project Name] goes live.

That's all for now folks!

'The Macra Terror' and 'The Waters of Mars' reviewed.

So, in an effort to provide slightly more regular and engaging reading, I'm going to begin by reviewing some of the things I'm watching at the moment and right now that means Doctor Who, both the classic and revived series.  What better way to begin this than to review a story from each.

First up, we look at a story from 1967, The Macra Terror.

The Macra Terror, was the seventh story of Doctor Who's fourth season and was the fifth story to feature the second Doctor, Patrick Troughton.  His companions at this stage were Ben Jackson, Polly Wright and Jamie McCrimmon.

This era of the series was markedly different from the first three seasons, not just in the presence of a new Doctor, but also in the style of the episodes.  Whereas the stories of the first Doctor's era tended to be long and relatively slow-paced, focusing on atmosphere and mystery more than anything else, the second Doctor's era had the hallmark of shorter, faster-paced adventure stories.  The character of the Doctor had changed to match this, moving from the thoughtful, often grouchy first Doctor of William Hartnell, to a more whimsical, chatty but also less human second incarnation.

As it happens the style of the episode plots and the character of the second Doctor really appeal to me.  I grew to love Hartnell's Doctor as I watched my way through the first three seasons, but Troughton won me over far quicker and it is his charm, more than any other feature, which makes The Macra Terror entertaining.

By modern standards the plot is fairly cliché, but then Doctor Who often is and it is not always that much of a problem for the quality of its episodes.  The Doctor and his companions arrive on a planet with a human colony that quickly turns out to be too happy to be true.  We soon meet the crab-like Macra (who will later hold the record for the longest gap between appearances on the show when they reappeared, super-sized and super-stupid in the revived series three episode, Gridlock) and it becomes apparent that they are running the colony behind the scenes for their own benefit.  The Doctor bumbles around in his slightly insane way, his companions get caught, escape, get caught again, turn against each other and generally achieve very little and then, in his continued bumbling, defeats the Macra and frees the colony.

It's all fairly prosaic and the Macra themselves are fairly ridiculous - not because of the quality of the special effects, which seem fine for the time (as much as one can tell from soundtrack and telesnaps only), but simply because they are apparently super-intelligent, lumbering crab monsters.

I have no idea why they had to be crab monsters!

Despite all this the story is perfectly entertaining and it's all because Patrick Troughton has such charm as the Doctor.  His unravelling of the equation that controls the gas which the Macra need to stay alive is hilarious, as is his confounding of the gas flow process.  The rest of the story could disappear and it really wouldn't matter all that much.  We pay to see the Doctor, or so it seems.

Another actor who's charm redeems a great many sins in the role of the Doctor is David Tennant, however even his skill does not do quite enough to make me like my second story: The Waters of Mars.

Written by Russell T. Davies (who seems to think that good science fiction is spouting nonsense and covering it in a thin veneer of Coronation Street) and Phil Ford (who belongs to the same school of thought as those writing Doctor Who in the era of Patrick Troughton), The Waters of Mars is one of the series of specials which made up the gap between seasons four and five of the revived series and the end of Tennant's tenure in the role of the Doctor.  It has won awards.  I'm not entirely sure why.

The premise of the episode is an interesting one, albeit one we have seen many times before: first colony on a new world, terrible menace, everyone destined to die, struggle for survival, etc. etc. etc.  The twist is that the Doctor is there and that he knows what is going to happen and that he cannot change it.  The events that are supposed to unfold are somehow to shape humanities future in a profound way and the Doctor knows he cannot interfere.  So along come some monsters which are supposed to be creepy (and so nearly are) but which look too rubbery around the mouth and patently ridiculous when they start spouting water and the Doctor prepares to leave the crew of the base to their fate.

But he changes his mind and the scene which follows is a familiar moment of awesomeness - the Doctor defying fate and saving the remaining crew in flamboyant style.  Tennant's flair for the part really shows off here and the combination of music and visuals is really exciting - the best part of the episode so far.

And then we hit the epilogue and we learn that characters who had been facing death moments before actually kinda wish they had died (although they give no good reason as to why) and the Doctor, who, admittedly at this stage is starting to sound overly arrogant, is forced to realise that he was wrong to change their fate.

It all fits in very well with the classic series story The Aztecs, where the Doctor was constantly saying the history could not be changed, but at no point do Davies and Ford give us a convincing reason that the people of Bowie Base One had to die, or that the Doctor could have convinced them that and when Adelaide Brooke, the commander of the expedition and fulcrum of humanity's apparently great future, tells the Doctor that no-one should have the power to decide that future, she seems to forget that everyone has that power every day with every choice they make.

Okay, sot he Doctor knew what was going to happen in a way no ordinary participant of history could, but still, it's all just too much nonsense trying to be profound.  Tennant plays it all very well, but it's the one episode of the revived series that, on re-watching, actually makes me angry.  I feel insulted by it!

The fact that it then follows on to The End of Time parts one and two, probably only adds to that insult, but that is another review for another time.

Until next time...

A Sense of Direction.

It has to be said that this blog has been lacking any kind of forward momentum.  The truth is I'm never entirely sure what to write in it.  A brief re-cap of some of my earlier posts has reminded me of the stuff I have written in it before and that has revealed a mixture of complete nonsense, minor profundities, TV episode reviews, autobiography and creative writing.  None of these things sit terribly well beside each other, but it seems that I have lost the knack even for such randomness as all that.

So, this blog is currently under review.  I aim to give it a purpose.  It might not be a very strict purpose, but at the very least, I shall try to post in it more often and with more relevance and interest to the casual reader (whoever you might be - my stats currently suggest that you are no-one, by which I mean no offence) and perhaps a greater connection to my more serious blogging effort - Shadow.

This questing for a sense of direction has become something of a theme in my life over the past week.  It seems that every year, around about this time, I suddenly find myself with itchy feet, longing to escape from my job, or my creative doldrums and get out and do something more meaningful, more productive, that sort of thing.  None of this was helped when a friend in work revealed that he was leaving to do just the sort of creative work he has always wanted to do, and he's likely to get paid quiet a bit for it as well.

Well, it was with such thoughts in my mind that I found myself sitting in church yesterday morning listening to a man talk about the work of The Samuel Trust (Sams), a Christian group who aim to work with the young people of disadvantaged areas in Aberdeen.  They were looking for new volunteers, having run so low on them that they had to put one of their clubs on hiatus.  The sermon that morning was about the end of Romans 9 and the whole of Romans 10, in which Paul speaks about the need for people to be told about the gospel and Dominic, our minister, tied this in with the work of Sams as an example of the kind of gospel work Paul would be calling people to now.  I can't remember the exact context, but at one point he spoke of us having 'itchy feet for the gospel' and the use of that term, which I had had in my mind so much over the past week really (and here I borrow the terminology of the esteemed Professor McGrath) - this phrase really resonated with me in that context.

So, long-ish story short, I met with the guy from Sams after the service and have agreed to go along on one of their trips for older kids to see how I find it and whether or not it's something I can do.  I've already worked out that I have the time for it every other Thursday and that I can do some flexible working to make sure I arrive on time.  I'm pretty sure the folks at work would agree to it all.  It all seems so convenient, in fact that I really do feel that it might be a calling.  I guess I'll know for sure when I do it.  It could turn out to be exactly the wrong thing for me to do, but that in itself would be helpful to know as otherwise I'll always be swithering.  Either way, then God has opened a door for me so that I might see beyond it and perhaps find that sense of direction which I seem to have been missing recently.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Clerihews

We interrupt our scheduled silence for some Clerihews.

J. Edgar Hoover
Liked drinking nail-varnish remover.
Whilst being so high,
He became the founder of the F.B.I.

and

David Lloyd George
Worked hard at the forge.
He made Ireland his mission
And left it in a state of Partition.

and how about

Sir Francis Drake,
Regarded a rake,
Had in mind
A more golden behind.

And I'm done.