It's been a while since I watched a good French film. I was just looking through this year's French Film Festival programme I'd forgotten how true the french film stereotype can be sometimes. Out of 12 blurbs that I read, 6 mentioned some kind of complicated sordid liason. Some of them are quite comical... my favourite has to be "Envoyés Speciaux" where apparently amongst the normal crazy lives of war correspondants in Baghadad, "Things also get complicated when Franck inadvertently sleeps with Poussin's wife before their mission." Inadvertently...?!Only in French films!
The last time I was in France I did however see one that didn't fit all the stereotypes - for one it had French actors speaking English!! Welcome is definitely worth seeing, being beautiful, thought-provoking though unfortunately also heart-breaking. You can watch the trailer here. Some of it is in English so hopefully you'll get the gist! Though good luck with the accents... Anyway I highly recommend it, go and see it while it's out in the UK during the festival!
Friday, November 13, 2009
Friday, November 06, 2009
the "twentysomething" crisis
So I've kinda hit that point. In amongst the random bits and bobs that was supposed to be feeling out the right path that I should take , I've hit that that kinda of "eekamIdoingwhatIshouldbedoingwhatamIsupposedtobedoingwithmylifenowthatI'mgraduatedI'msupposedtobe"grownup"thing!... Jamie Cullum puts it pretty well...!
And through it all He keeps whispering in my ear "Follow me" along the path that is narrow, that might be highly unconventional, or annoyingly conventional, that could lead through some pretty dark and barren places, but a way that is faith, truth, hope, love, that is freeing, that satisfies far more than a fulfilling job, a good marriage, exciting experiences, wonderful friends, a way that is knowing Him. And I'm realising that small things and individuals are just as important as "careers" and "postgrads" and that it's ok not to know my immediate destination right now if my eyes are fixed on Him. :)
Thursday, November 05, 2009
A couple of weeks ago poor ol Jack Straw was put on the spot at that contraversial infamous Question Time when Nick Griffin was "given a voice" when he was questioned on whether he thought Labour's immigration policies which had allegedly encouraged mass immigration had paved the way for far right parties such as the BNP. After a subsequent chat with my flatmates on the subject, and feeling partly inspired by the unusual amount of genuine passion from some of the politicians and especially inspired by the fact that one of my friends is facing possible and likely deportation as of this weekend despite having lived in this country for almost a year, I find myself remembering that I do love talking about politics almost as much as I love talking about God and religion, especially when the politics in question involves UK immigration policy.
Unsurprisingly I don't have stereotypical British views on the matter. Being a Scot (where we don't seem to have population problems apart from the occasional lack of), of immigrant stock myself and with a passion and love for anyone vaguely international. And while I do realise that we can't let everyone into the country I do think we go a bit overboard on the matter. Pet frustrations include:
- Government or Press making ridiculous claims supposedly based on accurate stats which have usually been blown out of proportion or taken from a very biased sample since when did population graphs follow a constant gradient
- The home office allowing people to stay in the country for months or even years, settle down, make friends, sometimes find family, a life... and then suddenly deport them without even the slightest warning!
It's such a vicious cycle - we have a press that perpetuates a fear of people "coming in to steal our jobs", the people demand things of the government who then tighten the already rigid system but people are desperate so do crazy things to slip through the system which makes the press go crazy and the cycle continues...
Where is the compassion!? We don't ever seem to put the shoe on the other foot. Think about the fact that so many people are coming from difficult or destitute situations. We don't even try to imagine what it'd be like if it were us having to escape some crazy dictator or war or famine in the UK and having the doors closed to us wherever we try to escape to or being treated like unwanted cattle. Why can't policy be shaped around compassion and not just around what's practical?! Then again... I guess we don't live in a world like that.
Rant over.
I'd be interested to hear what other folk think...
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
On being a sheep
A couple of weeks ago I got into a long chat with a Chinese girl I'd just met who had recently become a Christian. She started asking me about how I'd become a Christian and I briefly mentioned the fact that I'd gone to Sunday School and she jumped on that instantly as to her it was a wildly foreign concept.
"Wow! What's that like? Did you really think you were a sheep?!"
Turned out that she was referring to that bit of the Bible with Jesus the good Shepherd and us the sheep. "After 26 years" she said to me "I find it hard to get used to the idea that I am just a sheep". The image really struck her in a way that it never had me before. I explained to her that I'd grown up with it, made sheep out of cotton wool and pritt stick so often that it was just normal, it was just stories that I'd been told as a child, absorbed and never questioned. I suddenly realised that it's hardly flattering being compared to a sheep. They just seem to mindlessly follow. I do not know much about it but I did google "sheep behaviour" and this is what it came up with.
And yes this photo is of adorable Jersey cows not sheep, I couldn't resist putting this photos up. But you get the general idea. Herd instinct yada yada...
But it was the more the concept behind it that she found difficult. And I realised that in practice I found the being a sheep thing and being shepherded by Jesus probably as hard as she did - il s'agit de letting someone else lead you and take control of your life.
The other night I started thinking about that bit in the Bible again and I wasn't struck so much by the image of being a sheep as the idea of Jesus as our Shepherd.
Becoming one of his flock doesn't mean becoming a stupid, mindless, blind follower (poor sheep!) It doesn't reduce us to something less than human. We are what we are, human beings with intelligence and free-will and creativity and personality. I think that bit about the sheep says more about who Jesus is than about who we are. If we're sheep, that makes the Shepherd - Jesus - so much more intelligent, so much more knowledgable, so much better able to fend for us than we are. And then there's that aspect of tender care.
When I think of it like that. This strikes me all the more. If you were a farmer, or a shepherd, orif you have or have had pets, would you die for an animal under your care?! And then there's the fact that he did that by becoming one of us too! Mental!
Oh dear, I hope I'm not offending too many sheep by this post!
"Wow! What's that like? Did you really think you were a sheep?!"
Turned out that she was referring to that bit of the Bible with Jesus the good Shepherd and us the sheep. "After 26 years" she said to me "I find it hard to get used to the idea that I am just a sheep". The image really struck her in a way that it never had me before. I explained to her that I'd grown up with it, made sheep out of cotton wool and pritt stick so often that it was just normal, it was just stories that I'd been told as a child, absorbed and never questioned. I suddenly realised that it's hardly flattering being compared to a sheep. They just seem to mindlessly follow. I do not know much about it but I did google "sheep behaviour" and this is what it came up with.
And yes this photo is of adorable Jersey cows not sheep, I couldn't resist putting this photos up. But you get the general idea. Herd instinct yada yada...
But it was the more the concept behind it that she found difficult. And I realised that in practice I found the being a sheep thing and being shepherded by Jesus probably as hard as she did - il s'agit de letting someone else lead you and take control of your life.
The other night I started thinking about that bit in the Bible again and I wasn't struck so much by the image of being a sheep as the idea of Jesus as our Shepherd.
Becoming one of his flock doesn't mean becoming a stupid, mindless, blind follower (poor sheep!) It doesn't reduce us to something less than human. We are what we are, human beings with intelligence and free-will and creativity and personality. I think that bit about the sheep says more about who Jesus is than about who we are. If we're sheep, that makes the Shepherd - Jesus - so much more intelligent, so much more knowledgable, so much better able to fend for us than we are. And then there's that aspect of tender care.
When I think of it like that. This strikes me all the more. If you were a farmer, or a shepherd, orif you have or have had pets, would you die for an animal under your care?! And then there's the fact that he did that by becoming one of us too! Mental!
Oh dear, I hope I'm not offending too many sheep by this post!
Friday, August 28, 2009
items of stuff
Highlights from the collection of dust-collecting objects I have rescued from my parents' from a fate of inactivity, sitting in boxes or on shelves in my house untouched for years...
- 2 Calvin and Hobbes books = comic genius!
- "Baby Lion" my maneless, noseless oldest stuffed animal who in his long life has been lost and found several times, been through the washing machine, washed in the bath (didn't do wonders for his mane though) and played countless imaginary games.
- a photo album of the first ever photographs I've ever taken, most of them being of my sister (a grinning 4 year old, arranging her dolls in lines in order to teach, bathing them and posing in a variety of clothing - she hasn't changed much!)
- lots of old diaries - some rivetting entries from 1994 included:
"April 9th; we went to Dunoon by car. I was bored."
"January 16th: I tidyed my room" and then again on December 30th "I tidied my room again. It was my last chance." Apparently some things don't change...!
- 2 Calvin and Hobbes books = comic genius!
- "Baby Lion" my maneless, noseless oldest stuffed animal who in his long life has been lost and found several times, been through the washing machine, washed in the bath (didn't do wonders for his mane though) and played countless imaginary games.
- a photo album of the first ever photographs I've ever taken, most of them being of my sister (a grinning 4 year old, arranging her dolls in lines in order to teach, bathing them and posing in a variety of clothing - she hasn't changed much!)
- lots of old diaries - some rivetting entries from 1994 included:
"April 9th; we went to Dunoon by car. I was bored."
"January 16th: I tidyed my room" and then again on December 30th "I tidied my room again. It was my last chance." Apparently some things don't change...!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
On transitions and sacrements
I really don't like being between things... Unfortunately at the moment I am between occupations, between churches, between flatmates (though I am loving living with my temporary lovely German flatmate who is both relaxing to be with and an endless source of interesting conversation!). To add to that is my strong dislike to not being busy.
It makes it hard for me to see the point. I feel aimless. A drifter.
The only concrete thing in my life at the moment, other than my fiancé currently swamped with heaps of studying, is Jesus. But even He seems like an idea sometimes, abstract and airy and with no bearing on my real life a lot of the time.
At the weekend I remembered again why I love communion. I know lots of people who think communion is dull and lifeless and boring... but my experience of it has always been nothing short of powerful, moving and alive! Every time something different in that many-layered profound symbolism strikes me - whether on a basic level e.g. his body was broken for us or on another level e.g. the fact that we are all a part of the body of Jesus, sharing in this one piece of bread. But what it is that makes it so real, is that it's physical - bread and wine are physical, I interact with them physically (by eating and drinking them). I'm overwhelmed when I see bread broken because I realise that Jesus' body was a real physical human body broken but the symbolism only works because the bread is physical and not some idea. And I don't just observe it from afar, I share in it. I touch it, munch it, taste it.
This is what I hold on to when nothing else is fixed - the physical reality of Jesus, who lived and died and rose again, the Father who is utterly just and to the uttermost forgives, the Spirit that transforms - my God.
It makes it hard for me to see the point. I feel aimless. A drifter.
The only concrete thing in my life at the moment, other than my fiancé currently swamped with heaps of studying, is Jesus. But even He seems like an idea sometimes, abstract and airy and with no bearing on my real life a lot of the time.
At the weekend I remembered again why I love communion. I know lots of people who think communion is dull and lifeless and boring... but my experience of it has always been nothing short of powerful, moving and alive! Every time something different in that many-layered profound symbolism strikes me - whether on a basic level e.g. his body was broken for us or on another level e.g. the fact that we are all a part of the body of Jesus, sharing in this one piece of bread. But what it is that makes it so real, is that it's physical - bread and wine are physical, I interact with them physically (by eating and drinking them). I'm overwhelmed when I see bread broken because I realise that Jesus' body was a real physical human body broken but the symbolism only works because the bread is physical and not some idea. And I don't just observe it from afar, I share in it. I touch it, munch it, taste it.
This is what I hold on to when nothing else is fixed - the physical reality of Jesus, who lived and died and rose again, the Father who is utterly just and to the uttermost forgives, the Spirit that transforms - my God.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
growing
I'm recently went down to Worcester and stayed with Mark's family for a few days, getting tremendously well fed and enjoying english sunshine (which seemed to be a little bit warmer than the scottish variety! One learns interesting things about one's future other half when talking to one's future in-laws: anecdotes about their childhood, silly habits they used to have, games they used to play etc. Mark and one of his brothers used to have "thinkaboutthings" which apparently consisted of, surprise surprise, thinking about things - imagining themselves in situations, which apparently they would think about just before bedtime and report to one another in the morning. One of Mark's favourite thinkaboutthings involved running a nature reserve which even had a nettle patch for butterflies and where he employed his brother and his 12 (!!) children. Needless to say none of this seems to be in the pipeline or even in his dreams anymore...
Funny how our dreams change drastically. We dream a lot as children about the huge ways that we're going to leave our impression on the world. I was going to be a scientist, a detective, a forensic psychologist, a barrister, but my favourite and most persistent dream was that I was going to be a published novelist who single-handedly transformed the thinking of millions of people around the world. Now I'm happy enough if a handful people read my blog once in a while! Most of us have fairly big childhood dreams, but somewhere along the line, most of us slip into ordinary contented existences, or we realise that our dreams weren't quite a realistic as we'd originally thought or it'd take us being more brilliant or self-disciplined then we are in fact as adults. We don't quite become the people we wanted to be and so we can't quite achieve the dreams we'd wanted to achieve.
Actually for me it wasn't so much that as the more I experienced, the more the shape of my dreams changed. I stopped writing stories after I went to uni because I stopped enjoying pretending to be someone else and now I struggle to write about anything other than my own experiences. I still want to change peoples' lives but I'd be extremely happy if I have an effect on the people I meet on a day to day basis in small ways. I think the shape of my dreams changed because the bigger I grew, the smaller I realised I was. And yet at the same time, the bigger I grow, the bigger I realise God is, the greater is love, mercy, compassion, the more I realise he cares about the vulnerable, the downtrodden, the outcasts in society... Reminds me of that bit in Prince Caspian when Lucy encounters Aslan again in person for the first time since "The Lion, the Witch and The Wardrobe".
"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."
"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.
"Not because you are?"
"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."
I think I'm even less sure of what I "want to do when I grow up" now that I have actually "grown up" than I did even when I was at uni! But I'd like to try and see things more through "God perspective" lenses and do what I can to live like Jesus and further His kingdom where broken lives get fixed.
Funny how our dreams change drastically. We dream a lot as children about the huge ways that we're going to leave our impression on the world. I was going to be a scientist, a detective, a forensic psychologist, a barrister, but my favourite and most persistent dream was that I was going to be a published novelist who single-handedly transformed the thinking of millions of people around the world. Now I'm happy enough if a handful people read my blog once in a while! Most of us have fairly big childhood dreams, but somewhere along the line, most of us slip into ordinary contented existences, or we realise that our dreams weren't quite a realistic as we'd originally thought or it'd take us being more brilliant or self-disciplined then we are in fact as adults. We don't quite become the people we wanted to be and so we can't quite achieve the dreams we'd wanted to achieve.
Actually for me it wasn't so much that as the more I experienced, the more the shape of my dreams changed. I stopped writing stories after I went to uni because I stopped enjoying pretending to be someone else and now I struggle to write about anything other than my own experiences. I still want to change peoples' lives but I'd be extremely happy if I have an effect on the people I meet on a day to day basis in small ways. I think the shape of my dreams changed because the bigger I grew, the smaller I realised I was. And yet at the same time, the bigger I grow, the bigger I realise God is, the greater is love, mercy, compassion, the more I realise he cares about the vulnerable, the downtrodden, the outcasts in society... Reminds me of that bit in Prince Caspian when Lucy encounters Aslan again in person for the first time since "The Lion, the Witch and The Wardrobe".
"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."
"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.
"Not because you are?"
"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."
I think I'm even less sure of what I "want to do when I grow up" now that I have actually "grown up" than I did even when I was at uni! But I'd like to try and see things more through "God perspective" lenses and do what I can to live like Jesus and further His kingdom where broken lives get fixed.
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