In praise of a weekly 'lockdown day'

Despite concerns about variants, the slow unlocking of the UK continues, as we celebrate reaching level 1 here in Dumfries and Galloway. Yet it turns out that there are actually some parts of lockdown that people want to hold on to. A recent Guardian article said: ‘With the country opening back up, some of us are choosing to shut back down every now and then to focus on ourselves and our family’. The authors then went on to ask: ‘Are you going to miss the positive aspects of lockdown so much that you’re going to create your own personal, regular “lockdown days” just for yourself or your family?’.

In our 24/7 society, where we’re so used to rushing from one commitment to another, there was something refreshing – at least at the start – about that burden being lifted. Of course, it would be easy to overplay it. Even back in April 2020, one Times columnist said he was encountering ‘an almost intolerable level of guff about reconnecting with nature, learning the joys of contemplation, home-cooking, realising how much more there is to life than nine-to-five, putting the rhythm of lovely walks and daily exercise back into life, birdsong, etc’. He went on to make a prophecy which, fourteen months later, has the ring of truth to it: ‘Once people need to be in at work for 9am again, it will take a matter of days to disconnect from nature, skip the Zen, head later for a pub or restaurant, and find there just isn’t time for that leisurely walk’.

 And yet is there nothing from our experience of a slower pace of life that can be redeemed? Or are we simply doomed to return to the tyranny of the urgent?

 Just a few days before the idea of a regular ‘lockdown day’ was floated, the Wall Street Journal published an essay by Sohrab Ahmari entitled ‘What we’ve lost in rejecting the Sabbath’. Ahmari, an Iranian-born author, converted from atheism to Roman Catholicism in 2016 at the age of 30. Writing about the Jewish and Christian practice of setting aside one day a week for rest and worship he argues that ‘in an age of constant activity, we need it more than ever’. Of course, the fact that we live in a 24/7 society is one of the main arguments that people – including many Christians – use when they claim that a weekly day of rest is unrealistic. But for Ahmari, our very busyness means that our need to ‘switch off’ for one day a week is greater than ever.

 He notes: ‘We have banished the Sabbath in the name of “choice.” And some choice we have: Working-class families are denied even a half-day of rest together, yet we are puzzled by astronomical divorce rates, abysmally low rates of family formation, alienation and drug abuse. We have cashiered the Sabbath to minimize labour costs, regardless of the impact on families and communities’.

As for the argument that a weekly, society-wide shutdown would be impossible today, we just need to look at the pandemic. If what we value most is at stake, we can shut the shops, close the restaurants and suspend public transport. As someone wryly commented on Twitter during the first lockdown: ‘‘What if we shut down all non-essential services once a week?’

And yet if we were to do so, a weekly Sabbath (or Lord’s Day) would actually look quite different from the weekly ‘lockdown day’ being proposed. The Guardian article talks about creating your own, personal lockdown days ‘just for yourself or your family’. Days like that are certainly important – but from a Christian point of view, having an exclusively inward focus leads to misery. True joy is found in focusing on God and in community with other people – and that’s what the Biblical idea of the Sabbath is all about. For us as a church, one of the great joys of restrictions being relaxed has been having one another in our homes again. A day that begins and ends in worship – with time in between given over to hospitality and fellowship – is a great and joyous reminder that we were actually made for something far bigger than ourselves and our families. Jesus spent time alone with God, he spent time with his disciples, and yet almost constantly we see him spending time with people, eating with them, enjoying their fellowship and investing in their lives.

A good lockdown legacy would see us regularly silencing the gods of work and entertainment and doing something similar.

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 10th June 2021

Reading the Bible every day for 20 years

In a recent sermon, Stephen mentioned the following video by Rev. Matthew Everhard, who was marking 20 years of reading the Bible every single day. You can watch it below:

You can download his Bible reading plan here. Everhard’s YouTube channel contains many other helpful videos — some examples of which are below:

Everhard has lectured on Jonathan Edwards for the RP Theological Seminary in Pittsburgh and also preached at one of their chapel services:

In November his church are hosting a conference with most of the speakers coming from RPTS.

Once an Addict

Book review by Ian Murphy:

Once an Addict by Barry Woodward is an inspirational story of God’s transforming power. It tells of his 15-year heroin addiction before his conversion to Christianity.

Though he came from a fairly good background he was drawn into a world of drugs in 80’s Manchester. It is a vivid picture of a dark underworld – a daily struggle to feed his habit. Barry’s drug addiction takes him through spells in prison and psychiatric hospitals.

Like many a conversion, his story turns when all seems lost. In his early 30s he moves away from the city and is rehoused in Rochdale. He has split up with his long-term girlfriend, he’s still addicted to methadone, and on benefits – isolated in a new environment, a world away from his drug dealing days in Manchester. His life changes with a chance encounter on a bus. A man sits down beside him and Barry notices a borstal dot on his face (an old prison tattoo) and this gets him into a conversation. It transpires that this man attends a local church and a fellow worshipper is a neighbour of Barry’s. When he’s invited along, he has misgivings about attending a church full of “respectable” people (sound familiar?). In time, though, his life is transformed by worship, prayer and bible study. Listening to a cassette given to him by one of his new friends he has his moment of epiphany. He excitedly calls his pastor. “I’ve just found my calling – I want to be an evangelist!” His pastor replies calmly, “Let’s pray about it.”

After a couple of years at Cliff Bible College in Derbyshire, Barry leaves to set up his Proclaim Trust and to this day tours the world telling his inspirational story. It is a great testimony to God’s providential work in a most unlikely convert!

Line of Duty viewing figures highlight our desire for justice

The current series of Line of Duty has been attracting record audiences. The opening episode of season six of the BBC’s police drama was watched by 9.6 million viewers, breaking all previous records for the programme. The fifth episode went on to attract 9.9 million viewers, making it the second-most watched drama across all channels in many years. Those us of who catch up with the series during the week also helped BBC iPlayer to its best quarter on record.

With the series about to reach its dramatic conclusion, even more records could topple as Superintendent Ted Hastings and his team at Anti-Corruption Unit 12 hunt ‘bent coppers’ all the way to the top echelons of the Police Service.

So what is it about the show that makes it such compelling viewing? Is it Jed Mercurio’s writing? Is it the characterisation? Is it the actors, such as Glasgow’s Kelly Macdonald or Greenock-born Martin Compston? Is it the Belfast backdrop which gives a recognisable feel to fictional areas like Moss Heath?

I would argue that above all, what makes the series so gripping is that deep down, we all have a powerful longing to see justice done. To see injustice and corruption rife among the very people who should be protecting the public and bringing criminals to justice, is almost too much for us to bear. And so we long to see those pulling the strings unmasked and brought to justice. To have the book thrown at them, as Hastings would put it.

In sport, in the rule of law, in our work – in every area of our lives we have a burning desire to see fairness reign and justice prevail. From players surrounding a referee on a Saturday after a poor decision, to drugs cheats winning medals – from the anger at seeing an incompetent colleague promoted, to seeing dangerous criminals get away with a slap on the wrists – our desire for justice pervades every area of life.

But identifying our longing for justice is one thing. Explaining why it’s so innate is another. After all, if the human race has got to where it is today by the survival of the fittest, then there wouldn’t seem to have been much room for justice in our development.

And if justice is just a social construct, why does it mean so much to us? Why is there so much anguish when murderers like Harold Shipman take their own lives and (seemingly) escape the punishment they deserve?

For me, the Bible’s explanation of why we care so much about justice is far more compelling. This deep-rooted desire for justice in us all comes from the fact that we’re created in the image of a God of justice. The Bible tells us a number of times that ‘the LORD loves justice’. We were created in his image – and remnants of that image remain in us all.

And yet while the Bible explains where our desire for justice comes from, the fact that there’s a God of infinite justice isn’t automatically good news for us. Because one day, it will be our turn to stand in the dock. God tells us that ‘all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God’ (Romans 3:23). And even if our good deeds could somehow outweigh our bad, that wouldn’t be enough – God’s standard is perfection.

Nor can we take the attitude that if something happened a long time ago, it doesn’t matter. Historical abuse enquiries rightly seek to bring people justice, despite the fact that their crimes may have been perpetrated decades ago. A just judge won’t ignore wrongdoing, just because many years have passed.

And so the fundamental question of Christianity is how God can forgive sin and still be just. If God ignored wrongdoing, he would cease to be God. As someone has put it, ‘The moral fabric of the universe would tear in pieces if God were not fair’.

And yet in God’s infinite wisdom he has provided a way in which we can be forgiven, and he can still be just. When Jesus died on the cross, he did so bearing the sins of all his people. Martin Luther called it ‘The Great Exchange’ – Jesus takes our wrongdoing on himself, while his record of perfect obedience is counted as ours.

And so as we await Line of Duty’s climax, we know that a far more significant day of reckoning lies ahead. But because of Jesus, his people can look forward to it without fear.

An updated version of this article appeared in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 6 May 2021

Dumfries & Galloway: Lowest % church attendance in Scotland

According to the latest UK Church Statistics report (2020), Dumfries and Galloway currently has the lowest percentage church attendance of any Scottish council area. In 2016, 4.6% of the population here attended church, second only to East Lothian (4.5%). However by 2025 Dumfries and Galloway’s church attendance is forecast to drop to 2.8% by 2025 - with the next worst being Clackmannanshire at 3.1%.

For Scotland as a whole, the figure was 7.2% in 2016, forecast to drop to 5.5% by 2025.

Of course, the percentage of the population attending a Bible-believing church will be much lower.

We have previously discussed the closure of churches in Stranraer and Wigtownshire, while Stephen also contributed an article for the Free Press pointing out that even in churches that remain open, the Bible has long since been stolen from unsuspecting churchgoers.

We have recently begun a new series in church on the book of Nehemiah examining both how we got here and where we go from here, as we pray and work to see the church of Jesus Christ revitalised both in Stranraer and throughout Scotland.