I've just been speaking to my mum on the phone - part of our twice weekly ritual. I see a lot more of her since I moved north - indeed, we spent last Saturday together...
Several times during the day, she suggested I go and stay over for a night this week - and saying I'd have a think about it, I kept wondering what on earth was bringing all this on! She asked me again when I rang Tuesday - and I remained puzzled by it, and worried that she was becoming more dependent on me than I'd like...
Well, she's just had a good bitch about everybody. I hate when she does that, because it feels like she expects me to take her side and unfortunately, because I see how much depression obscures her view, I don't usually feel able to do that. She's not had a good week, not been sleeping, in lots of arthritic pain - and boy, does it show.
The penny finally dropped, mid call, as to the reason for this current downturn. Last Monday was the 4th anniversary of my dad's passing. Until now, I have to say I completely forgot...
Grief is such an individual experience. I've not forgotten my dad of course, and nor would I want to; but I guess where I've managed to put him away in a special compartment of the 'people I used to know' file of my mind, my mother has not. Funnily enough, I don't feel bad about this oversight - perhaps I should, but I expect my dad would understand.
Friday, 8 June 2007
Wednesday, 6 June 2007
Evangelism
I tried to write about this the other day, but I found myself linking it with somebody I'd named in earlier posts - whose name I've now removed. I only used his first name and most people won't know who he is anyway - but it probably wasn't the right thing to do. I just felt so angry with the way he's wasting his life, that's all...
I used to think evangelists were those wierdos you sometimes encounter, preaching from a well-worn old bible in the street - usually to nobody in particular; because even those of us that might otherwise be interested are rushing past at a discreet distance, because we don't really want anybody to associate us with them... Otherwise, the word conjures up images of those impeccably dressed, usually young American men and women with the neat black with white lettering, Brother, Elder, or Sister So-and-so badges - or people like Jehovah's Witnesses, who turn up unannounced on your doorstep - usually halfway through Emmerdale...
But evangelism is a much-misunderstood word. Okay, so it might include those groups and individuals most of us love to hate and strive to avoid - but they're just the tip of a very large iceberg - which otherwise consists of people of faith going about their everyday lives and thereby demonstrating - not with words but with actions - that they're actually not wierdos with old worn bibles preaching on street corners or people who turn up on your doorstep at inconvenient times or otherwise accost you as you go about your daily business - but just ordinary individuals, much like everyone else...
To me, these are the most effective evangelists - those who don't actually go out of their way to evangelise, but just live lives amongst others, in the styles they choose! Not very many years ago, I hosted a few parties and organised a few holidays that quickly became either notorious or legendary, amongst those associated with Fareham & Gosport's adult mental health services at the time! We'd even fundraise before these events - amassing what in the event amounted to a drinking fund, and we'd mix our own cocktails, giving them rude names, there'd be lots of bawdy humour and flashing of body parts...
Some people described us as immature - and you know, they may have been right - but maybe not for the reasons that immediately spring to mind. Just ask any one of the people concerned and they'd doubtless tell you how those parties and holidays were the first time they'd ever felt they could let their hair down that way - either because they'd been oppressed when they were younger, or unwell, or simply too poor at the time. In most cases, they were shy, withdrawn, introverted individuals in their younger days - and certainly did not have friends with whom they felt sufficiently comfortable to do such things with - or whom they knew they could trust sufficiently, that it would not turn into some kind of unwanted sexual orgy! It was just a laugh - the kind of laugh they'd probably never enjoyed much before or since; and invariably, it brought them out of themselves, so that they ceased to be such shy, withdrawn, introverted individuals - and for the first time in their lives, discovered that they had enough confidence to consider themselves part of the gang! And that gave them something to live for - a reason for existing, that they'd never enjoyed before. Quite a few stopped self-harming, or repeatedly getting themselves admitted to hospital - because they had something to look forward to, or something to look back upon - discuss in social situations, have a laugh about...
You see, everybody needs to have a life to call their own - and yet, so many people just exist. They find themselves wherever their circumstances have delivered them - and they just drift, rather aimlessly from there. They get institutionalised. They internalise all the negative messages that society - and in this case, providers of mental health services - keeps imposing upon them. They tell themselves they don't deserve any better, or can't themselves achieve it. They frown upon such behaviour - believing it to be bad, or possibly even liable to attract the wrong sort of attention - and land them back in some kind of care or custody, or on medication they don't want.
As our holidays grew, we became more and more a self-help group. People with public transport phobias supported each other to overcome them - one woman who had actually attempted suicide some years previously by throwing herself under an approaching train, and who had lost one of her legs in consequence, actually spent five hours happily riding on one, relaxing, sleeping, listening to music, gossipping, playing games, eating, drinking and sharing jokes along the way - just as anyone might expect to be able to do...
Of course, we attracted a lot of stick from the service providers. They prevented us from recruiting from their groups and activities, or from fundraising among its members. Our photographs were banned, our toys - such as playing cards featuring nude male models - were confiscated. They tried to deny us opportunities to stand for election as service user representatives - saying that we attracted the wrong sort of publicity. They even managed to turn the next generation of service users against us - and made us feel like outcasts in our own backyards...
But you know what? That generation remains largely shy, withdrawn and introverted. Lots of its members remain on the edge, looking like they don't feel they fit in - or could ever want to. They don't laugh much, don't socialise, do self-harm (if that's one of their issues), and do still spend quite a bit of time in hospital...
So what's all this got to do with evangelism, you might ask?
Well, a few years ago, I stopped hosting parties, and I started to help others arrange the holidays, rather than do it myself - because I joined the Salvation Army. I signed the pledge, and stopped drinking. I took on the massive responsibility of maintaining the Army's good reputation - for whether I'm actually wearing the uniform or not - people are watching me, looking for any signs of impropiety, or any double standards or other evidence that I might not be all that I claim to be, or stand for. Not least my fellow partygoers...
Yet, I still go with them to the pubs and clubs. I have soft drinks - and as they've banned smoking, I don't even have to passively do that anymore - although I didn't let it bother me before the ban. We still have a laugh - the bawdy humour remains, as does the odd flash. We're tactile, because we play practical jokes on each other, such as hide things in pockets and handbags, and fight over various hidden objects. We still laugh at the old days, look at the photos occasionally - and we still plan future events and trips together...
You see, I don't have to act like a prototype Salvationist! I can still let my hair down in the right company. I can still laugh at jokes that are basically harmless. I don't have to frown upon other people's choices or behaviours - as long as I don't actually drink, or smoke or swear - or do any of the other things I said I wouldn't; there's nothing to stop me joining in with all the rest!
And they respect me. They don't try to spike my drinks - because they respect my choices and decisions and the reasons for them - just as I respect theirs, and so don't refuse to buy them alcohol if that's what they'd like when it comes to my round! They respect me because I'm not one of those people who get up their noses in the high street, or call round unannounced - I'm still me - still the man they all know so well, and have had so many laughs and trials with in days gone by...
But the evangelism runs deeper. They go away, and in their quiet moments, they contemplate to themselves how much morew fulfilled my life seems to be these days - and how nice it must be to be able to say you're a part of, not just a rather naughty group of overgrown schoolkids - but an internationally respected organisation. And then they think to themselves how wonderful it is that I can do this - and yet still be me. And maybe - just maybe, they'll eventually get round to thinking or even just wondering whether, if I can do it - if I can come from where they are, maybe they could too - if they wanted to, or ever chose to give it a try...
And you know, if they have a problem - well, you can guess who they come to! And sometimes there are questions - spiritual, or moral questions, or even questions about the Army. If there's an odd special event going on and I invite them - they'll usually come along. Maybe they go to other churches occasionally - mostly not, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that just a few of those people who arrived in a place some time ago that wasn't necessarily of their choosing, and then just drifted and existed - but didn't live, nor even consider that they were entitled to live - now do so; and by even the most tenuous connection, maybe feel that there's a place they could go to or approach, if ever they needed a spiritual angle in their lives - that wouldn't judge them or expect them to change into something they're not, overnight...
That's evangelism. I'm not blowing my own trumpet either - I'm just a part of the equation. I simply go and mix with people - God does the rest!
I used to think evangelists were those wierdos you sometimes encounter, preaching from a well-worn old bible in the street - usually to nobody in particular; because even those of us that might otherwise be interested are rushing past at a discreet distance, because we don't really want anybody to associate us with them... Otherwise, the word conjures up images of those impeccably dressed, usually young American men and women with the neat black with white lettering, Brother, Elder, or Sister So-and-so badges - or people like Jehovah's Witnesses, who turn up unannounced on your doorstep - usually halfway through Emmerdale...
But evangelism is a much-misunderstood word. Okay, so it might include those groups and individuals most of us love to hate and strive to avoid - but they're just the tip of a very large iceberg - which otherwise consists of people of faith going about their everyday lives and thereby demonstrating - not with words but with actions - that they're actually not wierdos with old worn bibles preaching on street corners or people who turn up on your doorstep at inconvenient times or otherwise accost you as you go about your daily business - but just ordinary individuals, much like everyone else...
To me, these are the most effective evangelists - those who don't actually go out of their way to evangelise, but just live lives amongst others, in the styles they choose! Not very many years ago, I hosted a few parties and organised a few holidays that quickly became either notorious or legendary, amongst those associated with Fareham & Gosport's adult mental health services at the time! We'd even fundraise before these events - amassing what in the event amounted to a drinking fund, and we'd mix our own cocktails, giving them rude names, there'd be lots of bawdy humour and flashing of body parts...
Some people described us as immature - and you know, they may have been right - but maybe not for the reasons that immediately spring to mind. Just ask any one of the people concerned and they'd doubtless tell you how those parties and holidays were the first time they'd ever felt they could let their hair down that way - either because they'd been oppressed when they were younger, or unwell, or simply too poor at the time. In most cases, they were shy, withdrawn, introverted individuals in their younger days - and certainly did not have friends with whom they felt sufficiently comfortable to do such things with - or whom they knew they could trust sufficiently, that it would not turn into some kind of unwanted sexual orgy! It was just a laugh - the kind of laugh they'd probably never enjoyed much before or since; and invariably, it brought them out of themselves, so that they ceased to be such shy, withdrawn, introverted individuals - and for the first time in their lives, discovered that they had enough confidence to consider themselves part of the gang! And that gave them something to live for - a reason for existing, that they'd never enjoyed before. Quite a few stopped self-harming, or repeatedly getting themselves admitted to hospital - because they had something to look forward to, or something to look back upon - discuss in social situations, have a laugh about...
You see, everybody needs to have a life to call their own - and yet, so many people just exist. They find themselves wherever their circumstances have delivered them - and they just drift, rather aimlessly from there. They get institutionalised. They internalise all the negative messages that society - and in this case, providers of mental health services - keeps imposing upon them. They tell themselves they don't deserve any better, or can't themselves achieve it. They frown upon such behaviour - believing it to be bad, or possibly even liable to attract the wrong sort of attention - and land them back in some kind of care or custody, or on medication they don't want.
As our holidays grew, we became more and more a self-help group. People with public transport phobias supported each other to overcome them - one woman who had actually attempted suicide some years previously by throwing herself under an approaching train, and who had lost one of her legs in consequence, actually spent five hours happily riding on one, relaxing, sleeping, listening to music, gossipping, playing games, eating, drinking and sharing jokes along the way - just as anyone might expect to be able to do...
Of course, we attracted a lot of stick from the service providers. They prevented us from recruiting from their groups and activities, or from fundraising among its members. Our photographs were banned, our toys - such as playing cards featuring nude male models - were confiscated. They tried to deny us opportunities to stand for election as service user representatives - saying that we attracted the wrong sort of publicity. They even managed to turn the next generation of service users against us - and made us feel like outcasts in our own backyards...
But you know what? That generation remains largely shy, withdrawn and introverted. Lots of its members remain on the edge, looking like they don't feel they fit in - or could ever want to. They don't laugh much, don't socialise, do self-harm (if that's one of their issues), and do still spend quite a bit of time in hospital...
So what's all this got to do with evangelism, you might ask?
Well, a few years ago, I stopped hosting parties, and I started to help others arrange the holidays, rather than do it myself - because I joined the Salvation Army. I signed the pledge, and stopped drinking. I took on the massive responsibility of maintaining the Army's good reputation - for whether I'm actually wearing the uniform or not - people are watching me, looking for any signs of impropiety, or any double standards or other evidence that I might not be all that I claim to be, or stand for. Not least my fellow partygoers...
Yet, I still go with them to the pubs and clubs. I have soft drinks - and as they've banned smoking, I don't even have to passively do that anymore - although I didn't let it bother me before the ban. We still have a laugh - the bawdy humour remains, as does the odd flash. We're tactile, because we play practical jokes on each other, such as hide things in pockets and handbags, and fight over various hidden objects. We still laugh at the old days, look at the photos occasionally - and we still plan future events and trips together...
You see, I don't have to act like a prototype Salvationist! I can still let my hair down in the right company. I can still laugh at jokes that are basically harmless. I don't have to frown upon other people's choices or behaviours - as long as I don't actually drink, or smoke or swear - or do any of the other things I said I wouldn't; there's nothing to stop me joining in with all the rest!
And they respect me. They don't try to spike my drinks - because they respect my choices and decisions and the reasons for them - just as I respect theirs, and so don't refuse to buy them alcohol if that's what they'd like when it comes to my round! They respect me because I'm not one of those people who get up their noses in the high street, or call round unannounced - I'm still me - still the man they all know so well, and have had so many laughs and trials with in days gone by...
But the evangelism runs deeper. They go away, and in their quiet moments, they contemplate to themselves how much morew fulfilled my life seems to be these days - and how nice it must be to be able to say you're a part of, not just a rather naughty group of overgrown schoolkids - but an internationally respected organisation. And then they think to themselves how wonderful it is that I can do this - and yet still be me. And maybe - just maybe, they'll eventually get round to thinking or even just wondering whether, if I can do it - if I can come from where they are, maybe they could too - if they wanted to, or ever chose to give it a try...
And you know, if they have a problem - well, you can guess who they come to! And sometimes there are questions - spiritual, or moral questions, or even questions about the Army. If there's an odd special event going on and I invite them - they'll usually come along. Maybe they go to other churches occasionally - mostly not, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that just a few of those people who arrived in a place some time ago that wasn't necessarily of their choosing, and then just drifted and existed - but didn't live, nor even consider that they were entitled to live - now do so; and by even the most tenuous connection, maybe feel that there's a place they could go to or approach, if ever they needed a spiritual angle in their lives - that wouldn't judge them or expect them to change into something they're not, overnight...
That's evangelism. I'm not blowing my own trumpet either - I'm just a part of the equation. I simply go and mix with people - God does the rest!
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