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Confessional

A  short confessional thought.

 

EcoCongregation Scotland has not the time or scope to reinvent the church. On the contrary, it seems that our calling may be to bring out what is authentic and nourishing within the various strands of the faith. 

 

This properly includes prayer of confession of sin, and its essential healing companion, the assurance of pardon/absolution.

 

In looking over various possibilities for content of the devotional beginning and end of our Gathering, I first considered the Lectionary readings, prescribed or available to quite a few of our congregations. They might read this,  if  Lent 4 doesn’t get overlaid with Mothering Sunday: itself a chance to reflect on the Pope’s vision of a new relationship with Mother Earth).

 

Thus Psalm 32 presented itself, and in particular verse 3, which I’ll quote in the Contemporary English version.

 

 

Before I confessed my sins, 

my bones felt limp, 

and I groaned all day long. 

 

The deadly nature of denial, not only of the facts of climate crisis, but also of our own complicity in it, is well worth pondering.  

 

Keeping quiet hurts.  

Opening up (to God)  heals.

 

Keeping silent, and pretending that only other people cause the problem is a  very twisted way of being,  and I would also guess, might  make us less open or eager to take and share responsibility for a “just transition”.  

 

If the planet’s future is to be as good as it might be, much that is valued, cherished, taken for granted or relied on must be let go of.  For some, that seems easy to say.

 

Yet given  the musical chairs of life, some will have landed at the sharp end, working, perhaps, in headline industries that get the blame for greenhouse gases, and will need a priority of support , be it financial, spiritual, social.  

 

If you’re looking for a carbon neutral world, pray every day for the workers on the rigs, down the mines, or in the factories where the plastics are made.

 

I’m very cautious of the phrase ‘the Bible teaches’, but statistically at least, in Scripture, the responsibility of  nations and collectives for damaging behaviour  seems to be more determinative than that of individuals.  

 

The carbon footprint of our society is mine, every bit as much as someone who is longing to get a job as a coal miner.  

If I would rather they left the stuff in the ground, then I need loving words and consideration for what it would cost my neighbour. 

 

Not necessarily that such a cost should persuade me to desist from protest and advocacy. But I’ll do it better, more sensitively, and maybe even more effectively if I’m mindful of who pays on my behalf.

 

As well as, in the more frequent extremes elsewhere in the world, who has already paid for my silence.

 

No intelligent person, who is not led astray by bogus false science, nor  consumed by greed, malice, despair or apathy,  will deny the principles of ‘climate change’, nor the urgency of action.  

 

But that’s not the battle. Not even half of it.

 

It’s not the principles we’ll need God’s help with: its’ the exceptions, the excuses. The postponements, the special cases.

 

Is there anything which can’t be made a special case?

 

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While we’re on ‘confession’, there’s a famous phrase from St Augustine’s description, in his much-mauled (by Green Christians) ‘Confessions’ which sheds light on this. In his somewhat colourful youth, Augustine says he prayed:

 

“Lord make me chaste/pure, but not yet”

 

Is our prayer “Lord make me green, but not yet”?  Or have we been keeping that under wraps?

 

Once more:

 

Keeping quiet hurts us.  

Opening up heals.

 

Let’s pray for the courage, and the mutual support of our movement, not to judge, but to encourage each other in our life, in our prayer, in our partnership with Creation. 

‘Let alone….”

“Let alone”

 

 

‘He came to his own; but his own did not receive him’ [John 1:11]

 

Given the evident spiritual and other harm impending and already done by the curse that is “brexit”, the apparent  reluctance/inability of  almost all churches to organise any meaningful comment on the ‘great matter’ which is blocking the horizon of the nations of the UK, is profoundly depressing.  

 

And I’m already moderating my language in this initial description. But then I never learned to swear, which is a deficiency which has served me well through four local pastorates.

 

As I have noted elsewhere, the actual and potential impact  of brexit on the regime of regulations to protect  the beautiful  heritage and diversity  of the environment, let alone the economy, rural and industrial, AND  let alone the climate, should have been quite sufficient at least for Social Justice committees to arrive at a  definite and constructive public  position. 

 

But hands are tied. 

Maybe I’m not well informed.

I would love to be mistaken. 

 

As environmental chaplain, in these circumstances,  I would be grossly negligent if I sat on the fence,  let alone  as the grandchild of the generation of Europeans which sent young men in thousands to kill each other and dropped bombs on the cities of those we now know as friends and neighbours. 

 

To ‘re-foreign’ our mainland  and Irish family is a violent act. And in conflict, the first casualty  is generally the natural environment.

 

This being Lent, in these farcical days of our ‘civilisation’ the Devil - or whoever it was that Jesus  met in the wilderness - is looking on and laughing.  

 

Out of a long history of crass and inappropriate intervention,  churches seem to  have become terribly reticent, and very easily intimidated. 

 

Media offices have learned to  dread the incontinent warfare of those scathing but  near-anonymous critics on social media. ( One thinks of the ‘Knights who say ‘Ni’ in Monty Python).

 

That said,  speaking spiritual truth to power (or to ignorance) still requires skill and discernment if our forthrightness is not further to undermine the credibility we should seek for the sake of our care for Creation. 

 

And scope for martyrdom, of whatever sort, is limited and unrepeatable. 

 

But reticence and ‘prudence’ contribute to the impression that churches provide a ‘service’, a commodity like any other. Or that they’re a business. Or that  the duty of a church is simply to reflect the fears and prejudices of the people, and that agreement  and submissiveness is the only appropriate form of solidarity.

 

I know  this is not always  the case, and that the faithfulness of Christians will frequently  extend beyond simply doing and saying what people want them to; ( this being the precondition  under which the Word of the one who ‘came to his own’ might be received without  bother. Or effect.)

 

Jesus brings a message of liberation from whatever it is that oppresses us.  Even our own acquiescence:  Be it poverty, be it inequality resulting in our wealth, be it sickness, be it health. Be it obsession with this brexit  mess which blocks every horizon, obscuring the challenges of climate justice, poverty, ecocide.... let alone.....

 

In 1971, South African campaigner Steve Biko wrote:

"The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed."

How, especially amongst those with any awareness of the climate crisis, are we going to encourage each other in the sort of courage which the church will need, to be there as, with and for God’s creatures, in the climate trajectory of our lives? 

 

Is brexit  the gift of a trivial training ground, a mere practice sparring partner, rather than some invincible ogre? 

 

No sane or compassionate person will now claim any tangible benefit of brexit to the majority of ‘the British People’. Certainly  not to nature. We know it has already cost jobs and probably lives. But churches, even acknowledging the complexity of their conciliar structures, seem to be ‘sitting back’. 

 

In the meantime, we already have more than sufficient evidence of the far greater  harm our species is choosing to inflict on the Common Home of all God’s creatures.

 

More certain than brexit?

 

Is it our job to make this clear? 

 

The Gospel is wet paint. Reach out and touch  it; you will be marked!  St Paul, writing to the smug, self-satisfied Corinthian church, expresses this in a florid, even camp manner, when he says: 

 

Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.

 

I imagine ‘content’ is a comforting overstatement. Paul certainly did not enjoy, nor seek out the rotten treatment he experienced as a representative of the Good News, but he knows that it goes with the territory. 

 

Indeed, looking out for violent opposition as  a sign that  something is beginning to get through, gives rather sparse  comfort. 

 

What instead keeps Paul going is the love and support of the church community which shares his love for God in Christ, and supports his calling. 

Our movement exhibits that potential.

 

Paul frequently used  his own resources as a self-employed businessman, refusing to claim his fully justified expenses.  But whatever his own private  financial contribution,  we still have above all to  recognise that Paul’s work was only able to happen because of the love and material support  of the Christian church. Because, one way or another, he did have somewhere to call home.  Which Life on Earth won’t have, without  thorough transformation of our lives.

 

When Jesus is rejected, whether from above or below, he goes on his way, again, teaching the apostles to do likewise. Not cursing, not calling down destruction and flames on those who chose to reject the good news. There is no need. Refuse goodness, ignore justice, disbelieve what is plainly there in front of you, and you are the one who causes what follows. No need to find a vengeful God to blame for what you have chosen when the chance was there for something better.

 

The question, then,   is not, are we gifted with God’s love, and signs of God’s love, let alone  loving warnings, but rather, what we do with such gifts?

 

Jesus does not condemn those who choose to miss out. But he does not go running after those who have been abundantly gifted and turned it all down. Reject him, and he moves sadly on, amazed, bewildered that we can be so blinkered. The judgement lies therein, that he respects our choice.

 

 At the beginning of my ministry,  I tried to say to people ‘don’t blame me for the gospel’, remembering what Paul wrote:

 

Galatians 1: ’10 

I am not trying to please people. I want to please God. Do you think I am trying to please people? If I were doing that, I would not be a servant of Christ.

 

But as time has gone on, I have had to conclude that this is a forlorn hope.   Bearing Good News and Bad News  involves you with a community of faith. Whatever you wear on your sleeve, let alone on your collar or lapel, people will both blame you for and praise you for.

 

It is another  of the things I have learned over a quarter century of preaching, that people do  blame not the message but the messenger.  

 

We need, to get used to this; that for better or for worse, for the people we encounter, we are the gospel.  

 

God knows:  it can be a terrible blessing!.

 

 

 

 

 

Temptations: The pastoral/prophetic dilemma

 

NOTE:

 

This blog entry arises out of participation in  a Bible study on Luke 4:1-13 with URC minsters from Cumbria in the North of England. At the end of the Bible study, in the ‘Swedish’ method, participants are encouraged to make a feasible commitment.

 

Writing this is mine. It reflects a struggle.

 

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Our AGM/Gathering on 30th March has the theme: Transformation.  It could not be more timely or appropriate. 

 

The most resistant entities to transformation of any kind are  our conviction, conscience and consciousness. 

 

‘Fix’ these, and  change follows rapidly.  

 

And right from the start, this is the business of the Church. ‘Behaviour change’ was not invented by governments trying to raise consciousness of carbon footprints. 

 

 (Remember, in your Bible at home ‘repent’ means ‘change of mind’, and it follows from/goes with the proclamation of Good News. )

 

Given the alarming progress of climate disruption, we might sometimes feel we are struggling to offer with honesty anything more than “slightly less worse” news, but nonetheless...

 

Matters of conscience and integrity are amongst the most fraught and  potentially divisive in spiritual conversation. 

 

This holds good in particular, for those in leadership and those ‘on the ground’ who share the brunt of any immediate consequences. 

 

The pressure is intense on local churches and pastors - and for that matter, elected political  representatives of one sort or another - to stand with the immediate needs for shelter and career.  

 

Our conversations with MSPs in particular have shown that ignorance of climate issues is unusual. The confidence  and power to act adequately on them may be a different matter.

 

The tension between pastoral (in intimate and local solidarity) and prophetic (in global and long-term solidarity) might therefore seem irreconcilable. I can’t offer a solution, but pretending this shared problem  isn’t there will be adding to the burden of denial that we’re already struggling with.

 

How, as a local church, can you minister to/with people in a place of low or no employment, offered the possibility of, for instance, jobs in a brand new coal mine or nuclear power station, if you also agree -and campaign- in public that coal should be  ‘left in the ground’?

 

 

This, because of the urgent (though superficially less immediate) threat to every livelihood on the planet including, in a shorter timescale than we might imagine, those very local jobs as well. And not just jobs, but the whole living environment. 

 

There's a wilderness of sorts here.

 

You can prayerfully offer up your own contradictions, but not everyone will be able to be both prophetic and pastoral at the same time. Then again, different parts of the body have differing functions. You may be on different sides, but not antagonists.

 

Divided, but not polarised.

 

Conveniently absent and enjoying their immunity from any such confrontation will be the political  and commercial decision-makers whose policies have led to this sort of artificial either-or blackmail  in which no alternative is offered other than environmentally unacceptable occupations, and no transformation of conditions and livelihood is envisaged.

 

A comparison with scapegoating of migrants and minorities when, through none of their doing,  the health service is starved of funding, would be apposite.

 

 

Off the hook entirely  are those in industry and politics who have long known full of well the danger to all life on the planet, but are content to pretend business can still be “as usual”. 

 

 

The idea of a ‘Just Transition’  from  where we are now to where we need to be, (in which  the welfare of those in industries which, in view of crisis,  cannot continue, becomes  a priority,) needs to be mainstream in the proclamation of churches and other humanitarian groups.

 

 

That said, campaigns for environmental causes, we can expect,  will have costs to someone, (“I’ll support you except if my job is on the line”) though we may also need to be much clearer and more honest both about their limits,  and their unexpected benefits. 

 

Do you love, and how do you show love, to those who lose jobs in the event of the changes you advocate? 

 

Jesus offered examples on disagreement with your family  (- whom, presumably, at the outset, you love and feel loyal to -) for the sake of the Kingdom of God.  

 

Some of these were very strongly and rhetorically  worded. The outrage we might feel at Luke 14:26 is part of our discipleship. It sets any wishy-washiness in perspective.

 

So.

 

No solutions, but comments offered in the hope they may be helpful:

 

Firstly: a church is a body, a community. No one should be abandoned to carry the prophetic burden in a pastoral situation.  Perhaps shaping  this  supportive and transformative  community is one of the key roles of networks in a movement like Eco Congregation Scotland.

 

Secondly, though churches almost  universally proclaim their respect for the rights of conscience, the witness of writers like Bonhoeffer : that conscience may itself be in need of transformation, is salutary.  Conscience needs to be well-informed, as well as aspiring to be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit through prayer.  

 

You do have the right to your opinion. Do you also have the right to hold unchallenged, an opinion which will lead to harm for others?

 

Thirdly: solidarity goes with humilty. A principled and  conscientious stand deserves respect,  though raising questions on a conscience (which defends climate destruction)  may still be the loving thing to do. 

 

Complacency and smugness, wherever they arise, play into the Devil’s hand.

 

God help us, even in the wilderness, to love our neighbours, and our fellow creatures, as ourselves.

 

 

Jesus with the Wildlife – Liberating Lent



As we advance into Lent, it’s worth a close look at the Bible stories it’s meant to be based on. Lest, just as the ‘Magi’ turn into kings on Christmas cards, and the Massacre of the Innocents gets left out of the Nativity so as not to spoil a pretty, harmless story, we only receive the story of Jesus  at second or third hand.


At my induction, I drew attention to a closer reading of the story of the Temptations of Jesus, as given in the  early and  discreet witness of the Gospel of Mark,  1:13. 


As  the King James Bible rather quaintly puts it:


13 And he was there in the wilderness forty days, tempted of Satan; and was with the wild beasts; and the angels ministered unto him.


Whilst there are many authentic and traditional ways to observe Lent as a time of some sort of discipline, with the aim of being built up spiritually, may I, on the basis of these verses, suggest two further aspects: 


Firstly, the companionship of the creatures in the wilderness, which need not be seen as lifeless desert, but rather a domain not dominated by people. The ‘beasts’ are not necessarily ‘beastly’, and the addition in English language of “wild” simply conveys that neither are the creatures in question domesticated. No antagonism is suggested. They are ‘wild’ in the sense of the wild birds you may have been helping  through the winter, and may need additionally to care for if they are taken by surprise with a return of cold weather. 


Try reading “he was there in the wilderness forty days, tempted of Satan; and was with the wildlife


Thus is it not surprising that in previous ages, (in the carvings of the Ruthwell* and Bewcastle high stone crosses, as well as, arguably, St Martin’s Cross on Iona),  depictions or stories of Jesus experiencing the fellowship of our covenant partners on this planet have been presented as properly part of the preparation for his ministry of service to all the world.


Maybe this is a time to take care of the ‘wild’ creatures you yourself encounter, providing  birdseed, a bug hotel, or some other expression of hospitality and fellowship, as a Lenten discipline, joining Jesus ‘with the wild beasts’.  If you’re  already doing so, just be happy! 


You can find more ideas in the ‘Faith Action for Nature’ material prepared in collaboration with Eco Congregation Scotland and the RSPB


Secondly, and perhaps more shockingly for some, especially anyone feeling exhaustion or discouragement, in the face of slow progress in greening our lives, churches and societies, maybe Lent is a time to remember the pampering of Jesus by the angels away from it all. The refreshment of a walk in the country, and a readiness to receive the kindness and encouragement of others is at least as much a ‘discipline’ as ‘giving something up. What will prepare you for a committed environmental witness?  What will sustain the embedding of care for Creation in the spiritual, practical and global issues we share?  Who is an angel to you?


Think of it, and grasp it. 


Give up being at a loss in Lent.




*The Ruthwell carving carries this wonderful inscription: "IHS XPS iudex aequitatis; bestiae et dracones cognoverunt in deserto salvatorem mundi" – "Jesus Christ: the judge of righteousness: the beasts and dragons recognised in the desert the saviour of the world.

bug hotel: Loch leven RSPB)



The Car-Park of the Transfiguration

The very strange story of the Transfiguration is grounded in a realistic depiction of human frailty and intransigence. 

 

Falling back on the familiar  when we have the chance to take a leap into the unknown. Undergirded by our faith.

Not at all irrelevant as “climate change” slides down the slippery slope into crisis.

Whilst this story ( Luke 9:28-36)  does call, I like to think, for some wild and far-fetched speculation as we read it,  our reading will also be grounded in everyday humanity. Grounded in our failings and our potential. Which in  its turn authenticates the strangeness. Helps us to grasp it, value it, rather than dismiss it.

Jesus takes Peter James and John  ‘up on a mountain to pray’, at which the disciples are gifted with a bright  and mysterious vision of Jesus, authenticated, as it were,  in conversation with Moses and Elijah, the legendary sources of near-supreme spiritual authority, for their people .

Like going for a drive in the country, and coming across a couple of  A-list celebrities.

Transforming Energy surrounds Jesus . Preachers have seen it as a foretaste. A signpost to what is to come. But we are told of Jesus’ forthcoming ‘departure’.  So  it’s not at all about standing still 

Peter’s – perhaps understandably – odd reaction is not to soak in this fleeting gift and use it as a stepping-stone for  reflection. For him, it’s not awe, but overdrive.

He looks to build “refuges/booths/shelters”.  He puts his energy into  slowing things down. To preserve the moment. Like a fan besotted by celebrity. Clings to a fleeting moment which is only given as a moment

We are told he “didn’t know what he was saying”. I wonder if we know what we are saying, when we ponder  the authority of the radiant and transformative messages we hear from climate scientists.  The intoxicating message of impending catastrophe. The urgency of action. The journey, which should already have been under way. Ah yes. 

We sigh. And we go back to the car-park. Get back  on the  planes. We go back to the reassurance of our conspicuous consumption .

What refuge would we offer, perhaps up on one of those ‘viewpoint’ car-parks that adorn our beautiful country.  

Would the friends  of Jesus be unusually  adventurous outdoor folk, set out  on foot, or would they rather  have gone for a drive in the country?

You can get unnecessarily scholarly about the ‘shelters’. Maybe that is the fall-back  refuge of those of us who preach, or try to pre-wrestle these stories to the ground for congregations. 

 Maybe there is a reference here to the ‘Feast of Booths/Tabernacles, otherwise known  as Sukkot, though the season seems to mitigate against it. Whatever, Peter suddenly roused from his sleepiness, aims to offer temporary refuges,  with the implication of prolonging the moment, and, traditionally, of  waiting for the Messiah, when he has the chance to  head off with Jesus on the journey to see where he might lead.

But by then, Moses and Elijah,  the two authenticating conversationalists (I wonder who we would choose, or who we would see?) are already on their way.  

Before the disciples know “what next”, the mysterious cloud  overwhelms them and identifies Jesus in no uncertain terms as ‘my Son’,  perhaps rebuking  their misinterpretation;  setting in perspective what it means to mistake the gift of a  call to action for an encouragement to procrastinate.

What is the tone of this heavenly voice? Is it irritation that they didn’t read the signs in the first place? Is it kindly, giving yet another chance to ‘get’ what Jesus is about. Does it say “Get on with it!”

Many are the “maybe’s”. But following Jesus into the hazardous unknown, leaving behind our fall-backs, is what Eco-Congregation is there to encourage, as we approach the season of Lent, and then Easter.

 

 

Not just stewards, but partners


Amongst the various relics of bygone ages in my household is a ‘Missionary Box’. It’s a small, quaint  mud hut, perhaps made of something a bit like papier maché, with a slot in the top to put coins in, which would then finance the ‘mission’ of our western churches to romantically faraway places, where people lived, as indeed millions still do, in houses that looked, to western eyes,  a bit like the missionary box. 


Much good was done, much compassion expressed through this medium. A kind response to problems far away can be an encouragement in our lives here and now.


By the time I was reaching my teens, it was recognised that donor-recipient aid interventions didn’t quite tell the whole story. ‘Mission IS partnership’ began to be the watchword, and this is very much reinforced by the developing global strategy of Christian Aid and other expressions of ‘good news’ arising out of Christian faithfulness. 


Not so much ‘giving’ but doing our part.  And where Christian giving is involved, of course, it is giving that you do happily or not at all. It can be its own reward, and there’s nothing wrong with that. 


You’re more likely to keep on doing things that make you happy, and give meaning. And the world benefits too.


As encouragement, we do now have the advantage of widespread and excellent communications: we can see and hear via various media, of the experiences of our sisters and brothers in Christ (and everyone  else God loves) in places which can nonetheless still seem conveniently far away. 


In these situations, thank God, myths can and must  be busted.


Firstly, the romantic picture  of innocence or naivety of people far away in difficult situations is unsustainable. A worker from the Scottish Government who has spent time observing climate mitigation strategies in Malawi assured me that the people he encountered were fully ‘climate literate’, well aware both of the alarming changes confronting them, and their causes. As well as that  that these developments  were not, primarily, their own doing. Having accepted the evolution of their environment, their ingenuity and conscientiousness  in adapting to circumstance is impressively  set free.


A visiting speaker from Christian Aid Sierra Leone confirmed a similar situation, from a country where the annual dry season is all but disappearing, with resultant impact on agriculture.


Friends in Southern Africa cry out to us to get on with action in solidarity:  to make the changes that fall to us, which we are not yet grasping with urgency. Putting our money where our mouth is.


Secondly, and with accelerating rapidity, the overheating of the globe is impacting directly our own weather. As I write, people are sweating in the streets of Edinburgh, having dressed for February, but encountered not just winter  sunshine but a temperature above the average for May.   The disquieting disruption of the rhythm of the seasons, one begins to suspect, will have ramifications beyond what we can see today.


So familiar and nearby animals and birds, and of course, our own agriculture begin to bear the brunt of what human activity is doing to the planet that we all share. Not so much ‘poor stewardship’ as deficient partnership,  and this not just with human neighbours, but with the living planet of which we ourselves are part. 


And, having just now reviewed the book ‘God so loved the world, and so what?’ by Nigerian Presbyterian George O Kalu, I’m wondering with him, whether even the cherished image of ‘steward’, which has sustained and encouraged environmental action and commitment, belongs with the missionary box as something whose time has come and gone.  


The parable of the ‘Steward of unjust wealth’( Luke 16:1-13) has much to say to us, but maybe it belongs together with Jesus’ comments in John 10:12-13 about the uncommitted, stand-in shepherd. The world belongs to God, but we nonetheless need to ‘own’ our heartfelt commitment to it and responsibility for its welfare. Which is our own good, too. 


We’re not the 'hired hands’: we’re part of the family business!



God, help us take notice; 

God, help us change before it is taken out of our hands; 

God, wake us up.

For it is late.

Though you are with us.

AMEN.




Farewell to the piggies

PICTURE: The pig-with-bagpipes gargoyle at Melrose Abbey


There’s a group of UK churches who do important things together: the Joint Public Issues Group (JPIT) is the umbrella, dealing with substantial justice issues like migration, refugees, and of course, the climate crisis. 


JPIT are encouraging folk in the various churches - and of course, beyond - to use the traditions of Lent to develop our personal and public response, with a programme they are calling  ‘Living Lent’


It’s very easy just to sit back and lament, in resignation, the alarming damage that is being done, now at a brutal pace, to everything which feeds and provides habitat both to us and our fellow creatures. 


The Season of Lent has always offered opportunity for an exercise in spiritual growth, earthed in a strictly  manageable level of commitment.  How appropriate to dedicate and channel  Lenten observances towards greater environmental awareness and personal active  participation in our response. 


I have already  given up buying beef, because of the huge carbon footprint which that meat source has  compared to, for instance, chicken (see the national Geographic film ‘Before the Flood’ available for free download ), but as with any addiction, getting to the point of  being meat-free, and seeing that as a liberation, is a step or two further. Thus the encouragement of ‘Living Lent’ is rather helpful.  And as  ‘Living Lent’  points out, vegetarians have about half the carbon footprint of regular meat eaters.


 I will be joining in myself, as the project has given me the kick-start to get back to vegetarianism. I really appreciate  the odd bacon sandwich, and as a minister, there will be times when honouring hospitality ( as in sausage rolls at funerals) may provide exceptions, but I can’t simply ignore the basic, easy, manageable stuff: like giving up meat. 


The other option, ’Buy nothing new’ also has its liberating  attractions and challenges, but one at a time! 


  Recognising that the support of a community has more chance of embedding change in lives, the campaign is itself ‘live’ and will develop and take shape as Lent proceeds.  Having ’subscribed’ to my commitment,   I’ve just received a friendly acknowledging email from Hannah and the JPIT team.


To take part is a small and worthwhile step. And each small step, like a prayer, is in God’s hands.


I’m making a wee video clip about the experience, so I decided, a bit early,  to get the wherewithal for my final bacon roll, not from a boring anonymous plastic shelf, but from a proper hands-on  butcher, who knew where  the meat came from and the conditions under which it was raised. 


If, after the exercise, I do go back to meat, this is what I would need to go back to. And yes, it’s dearer,  but perhaps that better reflects the cost to the planet.


 I was delighted to see, in a display in the  butcher’s shop, the mantra ‘reduce, re-use, recycle’ about their approach to packaging, as well as information about the farms they buy from, and the welfare  of the animals.  


Over and over again, the ‘small step’ of commitment turns out to be like ripples in a pond: doing the right thing for one reason ends up rewarded with a wider bonus.  If I were a meat eater, these are things I should always have been concerned about.


I’m going to really appreciate that last bacon roll!