Let's not go there. This week, Donald Trump held a couple of lengthy press conferences. Apparently, he's right and the media are wrong. Tony Blair delivered a speech calling for the British people, who voted for Brexit last year, to "rise up" against Brexit this year. If we voted to leave the EU, we were told by the man who took us into a killing war on the basis of a "dodgy dossier" largely cut and pasted from a student's article, our decision would cause serious damage to the British economy. Check the date on that speech, er, Tony (yes, of course I remember who you are). Read The Financial Times. Any recent edition, but maybe look out for one of their leaders on what the Brexit vote didn't cause. No, nobody's looking for WMD in Brussels, and here's the nice lady to take you back to your room. [That was Cherie in the audience, wasn't it? Looking well, if I may say so.]
Eventually, something bad will happen that we can all pin on the Brexit vote, to the exclusion of all other causes, but let's leave all that for now. This was also the week in which the General Synod of the Church of England discussed a report by "The Bishops" on same-sex relationships. Gay marriage, as one or two headline-writers put it. People who love each other and want the standard official recognition from the state's primary religious organisation. Despite their near-identical, er, plumbing.
Now, Mr and Mrs Bishop are an influential couple, living on the edge of the "Westminster Village" in a big house that they've called, somewhat whimsically, The House of Bishops. No, sorry, I'm pasting from the wrong student article. The Bishops are one of the Houses that make up this General Synod thingummy, which is clearly some kind of central committee. The Bishops are a group of mostly men (they started recruiting women in the UK in 2014) who produce reports on such matters as homosexuality. According to their own belief system, they stand between us and that Individual who arrived some 2017 years ago to tell us to love each other.
Love is central to that Individual's teaching (yes, I agree, capital I), and so far as I remember, He didn't say too much along the lines of "Those two can love each other, but you're free to stop those two from getting too close." Okay, capital H as well. He was reported as saying (yes, I know the Bible accounts were written after His death and yes, I am aware of the current furore over fake news) that marriage was intended for the making of children, and no doubt somewhere there's a report by The Bishops on what to do with childless different-sex marriages. But I do remember getting the very clear impression, very early in life, that we weren't supposed to stand in judgement over each other.
The issue with same-sex relationships is not that the two people love each other - we're allowed brotherly love, family love, no doubt sisterly love, the love of a priest for his parishioners (uh oh) and so on - but that if we're thinking about marriage, we have to, er, promise to bonk, to abandon any kind of "birth control," because that's not ours to control, and to be capable of producing a result. The traditional marriage vow should be rephrased: "We can do this, and we're going to give it our best shot." So we're really talking about controlling procreation - setting rules for what people do with their bits, and then applying them selectively (those childless couples, specifically the ones who decided against children, who should be compulsorily divorced according to the logic we're discussing).
The teachings of Christ are either simple - love each other and everything else flows from that - or very complex, if you've got the mindset that goes through the paperwork to find the letter of the law. However "prayerfully" you might approach the job, you're still combing the texts for bits you can quote to support your point of view. I'm not competent to judge middle-aged men in clerical dress who pronounce on morality, and this is no place to mention to (now retired) bishop who evicted the Occupy protesters from the grounds of St Paul's a few years back because the financiers objected to their presence, but I will say one thing. Some of my best friends are gay, and some of them are certainly married in the sight of me.
Such a lovely pink sunrise this morning. Pink sky, that is, followed by a big red sunrise over Pendennis Point. The hippeastrum has done its thing, but the daffodils are really getting on with it. Everything's coming up, and the roses are awake. Pleasant to realise, this late, that I haven't thought to check the conclusion, if there was one, of the General Synod's musings. We're alive. It's morning. Enough.
Eventually, something bad will happen that we can all pin on the Brexit vote, to the exclusion of all other causes, but let's leave all that for now. This was also the week in which the General Synod of the Church of England discussed a report by "The Bishops" on same-sex relationships. Gay marriage, as one or two headline-writers put it. People who love each other and want the standard official recognition from the state's primary religious organisation. Despite their near-identical, er, plumbing.
Now, Mr and Mrs Bishop are an influential couple, living on the edge of the "Westminster Village" in a big house that they've called, somewhat whimsically, The House of Bishops. No, sorry, I'm pasting from the wrong student article. The Bishops are one of the Houses that make up this General Synod thingummy, which is clearly some kind of central committee. The Bishops are a group of mostly men (they started recruiting women in the UK in 2014) who produce reports on such matters as homosexuality. According to their own belief system, they stand between us and that Individual who arrived some 2017 years ago to tell us to love each other.
Love is central to that Individual's teaching (yes, I agree, capital I), and so far as I remember, He didn't say too much along the lines of "Those two can love each other, but you're free to stop those two from getting too close." Okay, capital H as well. He was reported as saying (yes, I know the Bible accounts were written after His death and yes, I am aware of the current furore over fake news) that marriage was intended for the making of children, and no doubt somewhere there's a report by The Bishops on what to do with childless different-sex marriages. But I do remember getting the very clear impression, very early in life, that we weren't supposed to stand in judgement over each other.
The issue with same-sex relationships is not that the two people love each other - we're allowed brotherly love, family love, no doubt sisterly love, the love of a priest for his parishioners (uh oh) and so on - but that if we're thinking about marriage, we have to, er, promise to bonk, to abandon any kind of "birth control," because that's not ours to control, and to be capable of producing a result. The traditional marriage vow should be rephrased: "We can do this, and we're going to give it our best shot." So we're really talking about controlling procreation - setting rules for what people do with their bits, and then applying them selectively (those childless couples, specifically the ones who decided against children, who should be compulsorily divorced according to the logic we're discussing).
The teachings of Christ are either simple - love each other and everything else flows from that - or very complex, if you've got the mindset that goes through the paperwork to find the letter of the law. However "prayerfully" you might approach the job, you're still combing the texts for bits you can quote to support your point of view. I'm not competent to judge middle-aged men in clerical dress who pronounce on morality, and this is no place to mention to (now retired) bishop who evicted the Occupy protesters from the grounds of St Paul's a few years back because the financiers objected to their presence, but I will say one thing. Some of my best friends are gay, and some of them are certainly married in the sight of me.
Such a lovely pink sunrise this morning. Pink sky, that is, followed by a big red sunrise over Pendennis Point. The hippeastrum has done its thing, but the daffodils are really getting on with it. Everything's coming up, and the roses are awake. Pleasant to realise, this late, that I haven't thought to check the conclusion, if there was one, of the General Synod's musings. We're alive. It's morning. Enough.