A Wild Fling of Imagination...

A typical weekday evening. You arrive home from work, tired, and the wife brings in a mug of soothing coffee as you sink into the comfortable sofa, facing the television which is already tuned in for the day's news bulletin. Just as with us when the news is about to start. We always watch the news on the BBC, as neither of us cares about advert breaks in the middle of the broadcast. Then after the main bulletin ends, the regional news begins.

And it was during one of these regional broadcasts, during the airing of a live report when all of a sudden the report was interrupted and the anchorwoman, Sally Taylor, appeared on the screen for between five and ten seconds without her knowing about it. She was looking away from the camera and gazing seriously at something which seemed to have caught her attention. Could it have been a bug crawling up the wall or a nearby piece of furniture or equipment? Or a spider, remaining stationary at that spot throughout the whole duration of the programme, maybe even for the whole evening? Or perhaps finding a spelling error in her notes?

It was that kind of unintentional whoopsie which adds that little more enhancement to life, the ability to smile when all around there is no reason to smile, as each gloomy item is delivered one after another from the newsdesk. But this unintentional error made by the screen controller has set my imagination racing as I ask, "What goes on at the newsdesk during a report, especially a long one delivered by a major foreign correspondent?"

Back in the eighties and nineties, it was normal for two anchormen to sit behind the newsdesk before the BBC decided to slim down on its budget. It was the perfect set-up for my imagination to run riot. Say, for example, that the headline is about a significant Middle East incident which is threatening the already fragile peace agreement at that part of the world. And so we watch the reporter standing in the cold, speaking into the camera, when all of a sudden, we're back at the newsdesk. And as the foreign correspondent drones away at his report, the two anchormen are caught larking about, totally oblivious of being on-air. Here I can imagine the late Peter Sissons, back then a smartly-dressed anchorman in his fifties, blowing chewing gum bubbles or laughing raucously at his companion blowing up a balloon which suddenly pops, throwing the smartly-dressed colleague back startled, and upsetting the glass of water all over his own trouser leg, much to Sisson's delight.

But immediately afterwards I see no more of the tomfoolery, for the controller, realising his mistake and with much embarrassment and in fear of losing his job, instantly switches back to the report. After the report concludes, who would ever guess, by the serious look on Sisson's face as he begins to deliver the next news item, bits of thin rubber are scattered across the studio and a huge wet patch remains hidden under the desk?

But it would have been too late. Poor Alex, sitting there and wondering what was so funny as she watches me literally rolling on the floor in uncontrollable laughter. But along with the amusing thought, would have been my curiosity on how the rest of the nation would have reacted. But going by experience, the nation watching would have been divided into two main groups: the men, rolling in uncontrolled laughter, and their wives and girlfriends looking with astonishment and wondering when their opposite gender will ever learn to grow up. Surely, anyone angry or upset with such a scenario must be of a small minority.

But it's just this, the boy in the man, something I wrote about before.* A very healthy psychological trait which, I believe, distracts from the stresses and disappointments life can throw at us, the doom-and-gloom spouted at us evening after evening, accompanied with ever-climbing graphs and continual lockdowns. With the gyms, swimming pools and spa suites closed, along with theatres, cinemas, pubs, bars, coffee houses, cafes and restaurants all closed, along with non-essential shops, indeed, I need some fun distraction to get my mind off the reality - that I can go into a garden centre to buy a gnome but unable to replace my worn shoes or a much-needed shirt should the time come.

And as such, I can take a real-life experience of the South Today broadcasting error and use my imagination to create a scenario set on a breach of a private moment. But such must be genuine, a bad mistake made unintentionally by the screen controller and followed by apologies from the BBC and not a deliberate put-on as characterised by any comedy show.

I can buy this little fellow but not a pair of shoes.

And all these sorrows caused by the pandemic with the new variant of the virus, couldn't have come at the worse time of the year - the Christmas season - that time of year when my beloved suffers a low mood, and often I do too, the setting in of Seasonal Affected Disorder, or SAD, an affliction I have been suffering for many years already. In addition to all this, on New Year's Day, Facebook was covered by posters submitted by Brexiteers rejoicing in their victory against those like me who would have preferred to have remained in the EU. And so they jump in victory as if England had just won the World Cup.

And so I can thank God in a sense that we're under strict lockdowns - or else I would have witnessed street parties held by Brexiteers, with St George flags and Union Jacks, mixing in the crowd to watch the fireworks display across the river. And their mantra: We've won. You've lost. So get over it! - and such chanted even by professed Christians and church-goers too, as they celebrate with the wicked, making this whole palaver into one mighty miracle that I hadn't ditched the faith and embraced atheism, as it looks to me, the latter doesn't seem to be going around chanting such slogans while they're denouncing the Bible to embrace Darwinism.

And such high hopes of a vaccine against this dreadful virus is diluted by news of supply shortages and tangles of red tape and bureaucracy. And so I now read that the most vulnerable of patients who had already received their first dose of the vaccine and were promised the second dose just three weeks later are now told that they must wait up to three months before they get the second jab. And I feel like tearing my hair out as I read that the making of the same vaccine in India was so efficient that their roll-out should proceed with ease. And that is a country with one of the highest population density in the world.

Thus, I can easily imagine a team of men wearing a suit and tie getting their sums disastrously wrong, and forcing our Government to change their minds over this vaccine roll-out. And the man in a suit - the archetypical Englishman whose high education, business success and resulting wealth and high social status make him the ideal icon for Brexiteers to aspire on a national level out of sheer pride, self-effort and determination. And so anyone who wished to have remained as an EU member is looked down upon with that awful, arrogant and patronising spirit which has no truck with the love, mercy and the grace of God, yet still embraced by some Christians.

Indeed, one offset is that we have left the EU with a last-minute deal which, I hope, will temper the potential dockside congestion caused by the new tariffs and paperwork which is now required for exporting and importing goods to and from the EU. And so the world turns, life must go on. As for me, any moaning done over Brexit must stop, indeed, by moaning, I cannot add a single cubit to my life, I must die exactly when appointed by God. Instead, I can pray that both Alex and I will be protected from infection.

And we can do more. That is the taking of a combined Vitamins C and D3 supplement which also include zinc, selenium and copper. Several respectable doctors on the Internet advocate the taking of Vitamin D3 as an additional supplement which they say is beneficial in keeping infection in check (but not as a cure) for all who live in the colder latitudes during the winter months. Although there may be others who disagree, personally, I feel that nothing is lost by taking them.

And so we stand and smile at the world, our faith firmly rooted in Christ, the Rock of our salvation. Okay, so it's mentally and emotionally healthy to allow the imagination to run riot, so to speak, of the incredible stupidity of formally-dressed newscasters making complete idiots of themselves when they thought nobody was watching them. Yet I know full well that this is just fantasy, with as much realism as watching Superman on the Big Screen. I enjoyed watching Superman on the Big Screen back in 1977 or 1978, but that does not mean scanning the sky every five minutes afterwards, but the movie did inspire a trip to the USA a short time later.

But as Alex and I have already agreed, it's not about the boy-in-the-man, nor Brexit or the pandemic. The whole idea of our existence is about being reconciled to God through faith in Jesus Christ. And so, despite our present circumstances, by God's grace and tender mercy, we will march on, not allowing anything to put us down but to turn to God for help and reassurance whenever we need to.

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*For my original blog about the boy-in-the-man, click here.

Simon Reeve's Longing for God...

I guess that most of us - Christian or non-Christian - have a celebrity to admire, to hold in awe, whether it would be a professional footballer or any other sportsman, a singer, an actor, or even a politician. Or a journalist or more appropriately, a presenter of a popular documentary, especially one who has TV fame. For example, I know at least two regular church-going Christians who admire Conservative politician Jacob Rees-Mogg, and there could be others, churchgoers or not, who keep their adoration for such a posh, Eton-educated politician secretly in their closets. As for TV presenters, I believe BBC naturalist David Attenborough is loved universally by the nation, while news anchor and Antiques Roadshow presenter Fiona Bruce may be admired more by men.

It's more about TV journalists that I wish to focus on here. Three immediately come to mind - the first two having university degrees: News Correspondent Andrew Marr and Professor Brian Cox. The third is Travel Presenter Simon Reeve. As for Andrew Marr, to watch him shed his business suit and tie and then see him walk through a tropical rainforest wearing an open-neck shirt - I then realise he must be human after all - yet I can't help but shake my head at his lifetime devotion and awe for Charles Darwin as the greatest Briton who ever lived.

Both photos - Andrew Marr in Darwin's Dangerous Theory.

According to his own admission, Andrew Marr is an atheist. To him, God does not exist, and he remains determined to stay that way. But Professor Brian Cox is more of an agnostic. He acknowledges the possibility that God might exist. Both Andrew Marr and Brian Cox have university alumni, the former with an honourable degree from Trinity Hall, Cambridge, while the other achieved a doctorate at the University of Manchester. I'm aware that Marr attended church as a boy, and whether Cox had attended church during his boyhood is not known, although he most likely has been taught the rudimentary issues of the Christian faith while attending Hulme Grammar School.

But it is Simon Reeve who I wish to focus on here. Although both Marr and Cox have aroused a level of admiration within me, their road to broadcasting fame was the traditional route through either Grammar or Public School eg, Eton or Harrow, followed by Uni. And normally, that is the route taken by nearly all TV journalists and presenters. But not Simon Reeve.

If there was a celebrity who has won my all-time admiration, it has to be Simon Reeve. Looking through Google images of Reeve, it's rather difficult to come across a snapshot of him wearing a tie or even a bow-tie, as was the case with both Marr and Cox. And that is reflected in his travel documentaries. Sporting a permanent stubble, his casual dress would have earned the description of "scruffy" by more posh or well-to-do gentlemen. He normally wears open-neck shirt and at times, a crew-neck tee-shirt, as he delivers his expert political and economic issues of the country he's visiting, as well as its natural and environmental beauty, together with having intimate communication with the indigenous residents of a shanty town or a forest hut and accepting a bed there for the night.

This, along with his experienced diving skills which allow him to film magnificent coral reefs and other marine and aquatic life, thus enhancing his programmes. His style of presentation has made some, including myself, to dub him as "just another ex-public schoolboy". It is also reputed that Simon Reeve was mistaken for Professor Brian Cox. But his style of presentation had bid me check up on his background, and I was surprised with what came up.

Both pics: Simon Reeve out on his travels.

As a boy, like Andrew Marr, he also attended church, but in Reeve's case, he grew up in a Methodist environment. Also as a youth, there were times when he clashed with his father, so I read, and he was known for being mischievous, including shoplifting, I assume, stealing confectionary and running out of the shop without paying. He attended a comprehensive school and left with minimal qualifications. He didn't go to university. Instead, after leaving school, he took on several jobs until he landed one as a poster boy with a newspaper. During his time there, he studied Arab history and wrote a book on the subject which was published but failed to sell well - that is, until the 9/11 bombing of the World Trade Center. After this, various companies contacted him about his book which eventually opened a door at the BBC as a travel presenter.

His knowledge of world current affairs along with his geography has always astonished me, I think, his stubble and casual dress enhancing my sense of awe. It is easy for me to feel a level of envy. Although in all appearances he comes over as a casual, free-going backpacker who can just knock on a door and immediately offered food and a bed for the night, it's easy to forget that he has a TV crew with him, and the hospitality shown must have been after weeks of planning. In other words, on TV, his travels look just like my own travel habits - walking to a hotel from the street and asking for a bed for the night or several nights and offered a room. But that was done on my own. No TV crews accompanying me.

And the way Simon drives his car during a shoot. Whilst doing so, he turns to talk into the camera which is set up behind him. Surely, this kind of distraction is illegal here in the UK. But I have noticed that we never have a glance at the passenger seat, which gives the impression that he is alone in the vehicle and has full control of it. But it has crossed my mind whether the car he drives is a dual-drive, as in cars used in driving schools. The camera is always placed at an angle so never to see the guy sitting next to him.

And then at one point, he makes a three-part documentary about pilgrimage, going back to the Middle Ages as well as talking to modern day pilgrims. His journey began at Lindisfarne here in Britain's northeastern coast, all the way to Jerusalem, stopping at Spain's Santiago as well as crossing the Alps to reach Rome. It was while he was still in the UK, on the Watling Street route east of London and on the way to Dover, where Simon's true character was revealed.

One of Reeve's strengths is that he shuns the stiff upper lip and is prepared to show his emotions. That is another reason why I hold him in awe. He's not afraid to be emotional. At this ancient Roman road, he met up with this pilgrim who was carrying a cross of Christ, and with it on his shoulders, walked great distances both here in the UK and abroad. During the interview, I could see his emotions rise, and Simon was close to tears. Then he uttered these words to the camera which inspired the writing of this blog. They were:

Oh, how I envy his faith!

It was as if through this simple statement the veil fell. He was close to tears. Suddenly I understood.

He has a longing for faith in God, but not for his perception of God he grew up with. I can actually say that all three of us share a common childhood factor. Andrew Marr attended a church in Scotland, the land of his birth. Referring to himself as an "irreligious Calvinist", he gives me the impression that the church he attended as a boy was Scottish Presbyterian. But whatever impression he ever had of God, I'm pretty sure that he perceived him as punitive and judgemental rather than a loving Saviour. And if I understand Simon Reeve's Methodism correctly, a repentant sinner is saved straight away, but this forfeitable salvation is conditioned on human choice and is seen as probational for continual faithfulness and holy living rather than a free gift of grace bestowed on the wicked. Being aware of areas in his life which does not meet such godly criteria, it would not be surprising that he eventually became disillusioned with the whole religious thing.

And that's why I can identify with them. I grew up as a Roman Catholic, which catechism is about a works-based soteriology. That is, salvation can only be attained after a life of confession of sin to a priest, doing penance, attend Mass every Sunday and holy days, partaking in the Eucharist, and staying faithful throughout life. If I was unfortunate to die with unconfessed mortal sin in my soul, then it's Hell for all eternity, even after decades of holy and faithful living! Little wonder that in my teenage years I hated God! And I know of other former Catholics who lived lives in hatred of anything religious.

Tying it all together, I can understand Simon Reeve's envy of the cross-carrying pilgrim. As he sees him, his constant faithfulness and actually enjoying his work to secure his salvation, and the pilgrim's ability to prove his love for God and to remain spotless from the world, Reeve is convinced that the holy man has earned the love of God and is destined for eternal heavenly bliss.

Simon Reeve perceives a God who keeps looking at his sin, his failures and his weakness instead of wallowing in God's love whose Son died and was resurrected so God can justify the wicked freely, simply by believing in the heart that God has raised Christ from the dead, without the need for works. That was how I once perceived God to be, as Simon does, as Andrew Marr does, as Brian Cox does - the need to work for salvation and knowing I'll never make it. With that kind of worldview so prevalent, it does look as if we as a church is not getting the message of God's love across adequately enough.

Also, I might add: All three presenters believe in Evolution. Because this theory concocted by Charles Darwin literally destroys the credibility of the Gospel, then why believe in a punitive and ever watching God? To them, science has proved that life is far better without him.

Brian Cox at the Grand Canyon. Simon Reeve lookalike?

There is something about being on a pilgrimage. The belief that going on long journeys on foot, encountering dangers, a risk to life, weariness, pain, all this cleaning the soul from sin and opens the path to Heaven. The trouble with that is, it's salvation by works, the work being on this long journey, a journey which only a few can accomplish, and the likes of Simon Reeve, such a journey is beyond his means and therefore, holding on to a false idea that Heaven too, is beyond his reach.

Poor Simon! He stands there looking into the TV camera, his face screws as if about to cry. Very close to tears, he looks with envy at the pilgrim as he walks on towards Dover, the Cross of Christ on his shoulders, pacing his way to Heaven, and admitting his jealousy at the man's faith as he compares with his own need for God his childhood experience was unable to fulfil.

A Case of the Puffed Up Presenter

In my last blog I opened with the case of a university vice chancellor drawing on expense allowances to jet around the world in business class. This was to encourage foreign students to come into the UK to study at Bath University. In order to highlight the difference between a celebrity and the commoner, I then made the comparison between Expense Allowance, and Benefits, which is exactly the same thing - revenue contributed by the taxpayer - but with very different meanings. While I was writing that blog, something was going on in the celebrity world elsewhere which, once having gone public, would be controversial enough to split the nation.

It's about the BBC presenter of Top Gear, a hugely popular programme about cars, and fast, sporty cars in particular. Hosted by Richard Hammond, Jeremy Clarkson, and James May, this show has attracted a wide audience to the television channel, a reflection of how the topic of posh cars goes down well with national pride. But I must be one of a minority who have no interest in the show. That is because I had never driven, let alone ever owning a car, throughout my whole life. Instead, for local travel I use a pedal cycle, and rely mainly on trains for longer distances. Then again, I can relate stories of long distance cycling: burn-ups, flat tyres, time trials, triathlon, and simply touring, but I suppose all that is for another day. Rather, what I have found astonishing was that over the last few days, the Media had not ceased to publish ongoing articles about one presenter in particular, Jeremy Clarkson, whose recent behaviour not only had served to endorse his character, but his present suspension from his post had split the nation down the middle whether he should be sacked by the BBC, or reinstated. 

With my interests roused, by reading various newspaper articles, I managed to piece together the events which led up to all this publicity, so at least I believe. Apparently, the Top Gear team had a hotel booked up in Yorkshire, where they were to spend the night after a full day filming. At the end of the day's filming session, they went into a pub, where they spent up to three hours, before arriving at the hotel late in the evening, about an hour after the chef had gone home. As a result, the programme producer, Oisin Tymon, could only dish up a "cold platter" instead of the hot cuisine of sirloin steak they were expecting. It was at this point when Clarkson flew into a rage, and using plenty of expletives, punched, or threatened to strike his boss, in an altercation which lasted up to thirty minutes. The story goes that he felt compelled to admit his tirade to the BBC after persuasion from his team mates.

As I see it, this was a reaction of a spoilt brat, like a child throwing a tantrum when he does not get his own way. As a result of this, the presenter was suspended from his post at the BBC pending further investigation, and as far as I know, the final three episodes of Top Gear will not be shown as scheduled, although I would not be at all surprised if the BBC was forced to change their minds and present these programmes after public and international pressure. And this is what surprises me - national support, mainly from Conservative voters, for Clarkson to be reinstated despite such truculent behaviour. Even our Prime Minister, Conservative leader David Cameron, who is second in Government only to the Queen, backed the presenter's reinstatement. Then came the article one would expect from a right wing newspaper, The Daily Mail, written by Richard Littlejohn, and headlined:
Too White. Too Male. And Too Damned British. No wonder the Beeb wants shot of Clarkson.

How amazing. Not only that such wording has made its way to the public press, but rather it's content. Aside from being inaccurate, it's also a revelation that our nation glorifies wickedness! Now, how different the whole scenario would have been if something like this had taken place that evening:-

It has been a hard day filming Top Gear. But there were a couple of spare hours before the need to return to the hotel. So Jeremy Clarkson, himself a millionaire, invites the entire team into the pub restaurant and offered to treat the entire crew with a sumptuous meal of sirloin steak, or anything of each member's choice. At table, Clarkson phones the hotel reception to announce that they were all eating out, and asked for the chef be relieved of his duties. Then the whole atmosphere is instantly transformed from work stress to that of camaraderie.  

Now that is being a British male. And at the same time his popularity soars among all in the team, including producer Oisin Tymon. And he would have the approval not only from every Top Gear fan in the entire UK, but from the BBC as well. But instead, and quite contrary to Littlejohn's opinion, the broadcasting corporation had to cover for the presenter's past gaffs, including rhyming Eeny Meeny Miny Moe, which contains a racist insult, as well as apologising to a local council on behalf of the celebrity, who drove deliberately into a horse chestnut tree to test the strength of the car, together with other wrongful acts which when combined, would have gotten any other employee eventual dismissal.

Yet according to the latest statistic, up to 875,000 supporters had signed a petition for Clarkson to be reinstated. And I think this is rapidly growing, and I wouldn't be surprised that the number will break the million barrier before the weekend is out, particularly by Sunday evening, when the programme would have been aired. Going by numbers, 875,000 is nearly 1.4% of the entire UK population of 64 million. That may be a tiny proportion, but I believe it represents a much larger number of supporters who for some reason either could not be bothered to sign the petition, or simply hadn't got round to it, or even needed encouragement to do so. What ever the total number of supporters might be, I felt dumbfounded when I saw on Facebook that one of those who had signed the petition was a true Christian believer.

Statistics on who attends church on a regular basis is difficult enough to analyse, let alone how many true believers found among them. But the last time I read the stats, between two to three percent of the UK population attend church on a weekly basis. Taking the lower estimate, two percent of 875,000 would amount to 17,500 Christian supporters who had signed the petition, a minuscule proportion of the entire British population, but still, in my mind at least that amount too many! Of course, such a statistic could be misleading. There could have been far, far fewer Christian believers who had signed the petition without throwing the statistics out of balance.

Am I being political correct? Or judgemental? I don't think so in either case. Certainly not politically correct, for I myself hate the garbage that is associated with this modern way of thinking. Just as any commoner who violently throws a wobbly at his boss or team mate would be instantly dismissed from his post, why should this guy be reinstated just because he is a celebrity? Does this reflect God's point of view? Then, going by what I have read in the Media, there seems to be a leaning towards Conservative values among Clarkson's supporters, including our own Prime Minister. There was even voices heard among Chelsea football fans backing the presenter - the same crowd from where a group of racists had recently insulted a black man at a Paris subway.

Ah, the land of Hope and Glory, so the British love to believe, which by the way, a phrase originally referring to the land of Israel, as Jesus Christ will one day reign as King in Jerusalem, Israel's capital. For a country such as ours referring to itself as Christian, or with a Christian Constitution, I have wondered how much the Brits are able to see how supporting Clarkson flies in the face of Bible principles. Does the Bible encourage God's forgiveness? Yes it does, but usually on the condition of repentance and faith. But what about forgiving others? Yes, certainly among true believers, especially if the one in the wrong repents. Then again, it is true that love covers a multitude of sins. However, going by what I have read, there seems to be no sign in the presenter of a change of heart towards faith in Jesus Christ as Saviour. If that proves to be true, then to whom the British idolise, after death he will face Judgement.

Contrary to the heading of Littlejohn's article, there is nothing either British, white or male about Clarkson's tantrum at that hotel. What he had demonstrated was sheer selfishness, inflated by pride in his celebrity status, and adored by a large percentage of Brits. The true definition of masculinity is found in Galatians 5:22, which reads:-

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. Against such things there is no law.

What a contrast to Clarkson and his British supporters! Really, when you think about it, one is not a real man unless he is a believer in Jesus Christ and is indwelt by the Holy Spirit. As Isaiah, has written, ...and by his wounds we are healed. In other words, unless a fellow has the Holy Spirit dwelling in him, he is not all there, and such drama by the presenter and his supporters is proof of this. Oh the English bulldog spirit, which is a substitute for the Holy Spirit. The bulldog might be strong, courageous, unemotional, have the stiff upper lip - along with carrying the threat to punch the producer on the face for getting Clarkson into trouble - which in reality, he didn't - springing up among Internet trolls, all of these pandering to the self rather than glorifying God. Maybe tying with the Darwinian concept of Evolution and the survival of the fittest. Such thinking has no room for the Gospel of Christ, as this would mean death to self, to be born again to serve God and others.

Yes, I would support Clarkson's reinstatement as a Top Gear presenter, but on one condition: That he would turn to Jesus Christ and trust God to save him, and be filled with the Holy Spirit. As a result, he will be feeling new desires within. No longer would he look down on the non-white man, but recognise that he too is loved by Christ, who desire him, along with all mankind, regardless of colour, race or nationality, to come to the knowledge of the truth. His presentation will be softened with grace, a virtue which could cause him to lose a number of fans. It is unfortunate that there are many Brits who, like Richard Littlejohn, regard Clarkson as a model of the true English Bulldog - tough, arrogant, conservative, xenophobic, patriotic, racist, proud, aggressive, confident, lacking compassion for the poor or needy, loving wealth, and finding joy in fast cars. Many viewers adore such a rugged character of a man. That is why such a large number has signed the petition.

But unfortunately, his type does not reflect the character of Jesus Christ, who did not find it shameful to weep in public, and on two recorded occasions as well. The tremendous amount of good he did to others is well known to us over two thousand years later. Fighting over food? I can't see the Lord doing anything like that! Rather, he would have happily gone without if this meant others receive their share. And not to mention his time of fasting, I believe over several weeks, while preparing for his ministry. And during his ministry, finding time to bless little children, as well as showing compassion towards women steeped in sin. The difference between the Lord and our hero is at present as wide as the Grand Canyon. But believing on the Lord and being filled with his Spirit is that bridge which can bring the two opposing sides together.

And only then will Jeremy Clarkson become a real man.

Oh, The Things We Don't See...

Earlier in the week, my wife Alex and I watched Simon Reeve's report about Cuba on the BBC. As with all documentaries about far away lands, we as viewers get the impression that the presenter is all alone, by himself. Bravely trekking through often dangerous territory unknown to tourists, or through a politically explosive environment, the presenter reels off a huge amount of local knowledge, vast enough for the likes of me to ponder how on earth could he have possibly stored it all in his head, and breeze it all out without making any error on the facts. Of course, when he talks, he always looks straight at us from the television screen. Then again don't we all look at the person listening when we are talking to him?

I have watched several travel programmes made by Reeve, including a series about circumventing the whole of the Indian Ocean from South Africa to Perth in Australia. During  this particular journey, he visited countries of political and environmental extremes such as from the war-torn Somalia Republic on the eastern horn of Africa, to the paradise islands of the Maldives. He also made three Round-the-World documentaries as he travelled along the Tropic of Capricorn, the Equator and the Tropic of Cancer. Yet despite his enviable travel adventures and the national fame which came with them, he is a character I grew to admire and respect. One of his attributes I like so much is the way he dresses during presentation: not in a suit and tie but in casual clothes with some face stubble, without the need to deliberately look scruffy, and with a personality to match.

BBC Presenter Simon Reeve

Curious, I decided to check out this globe-trotting presenter on his own website. When I clicked, About Simon, which is to do with his biography, these are the words I read:

Simon attended a local comprehensive in West London and was described as an unspectacular student. After a series of terrible jobs, including working in a supermarket, a jewellery shop and a charity shop, Simon finally found gainful employment as a post boy at a national newspaper.

What? Terrible jobs? Terrible jobs? Wow! So working in Retail is classed as a terrible job? I must admit, I felt somewhat aghast in reading that statement, although I'm not sure if Reeve himself was the author or was this the opinion of the biographer - as the whole page was written referring to him in the third person. True, I guess that a routine in the supermarket can be stressful, with a huge influx of customers, many of them becoming impatient as they wait unnecessarily long at the checkout line. Then again, the job title Shelf Stacker does not convey the idea of the employee having graduated from Oxford. But surely, working at a jewellers must be a totally different environment altogether. Not even during the Christmas rush do people make a beeline to the jewellers. Maybe that was it, the job became crushingly boring, even if the assistant was bestowed with a very high level of trust by the shop owner or manager. However, such attitude reflect our class-warped British culture. It is also true that many of these Retail posts are taken by immigrants, mostly from Eastern Europe but also from Asia. The common thought is that many Britons see Retail as something beneath them, as the above statement so ardently reflects. I would hate how this biographer would have thought about domestic window cleaning, particularly in Winter.

The fact that Simon was "an unspectacular student" was just a posh way of saying that he was either dim in his youth, or he just wasn't interested in the curriculum. He attended a comprehensive, the equivalent of the secondary modern which I attended. In other words, Simon Reeve failed his primary eleven-plus exam and was not selected for grammar school, nor did he wear the famous School Tie of Eton, Harrow, Rugby or Winchester. Yet during his employment as a newspaper post boy, he found time to study foreign current affairs, from which he submitted papers from which publication lead to his big break with the BBC. In other words, he graduated to degree status at home.

Therefore at present, we see him as if he travels the world all alone, well not quite. He always had a local guide with him, and whenever he knocks on the door to where he is to spend the night, the door always opens and is warmly welcomed. I can compare this with my own travels. For example, when I arrived at New York from London in 1995, I entered one backpacker's hostel after another without being offered a bed, due to a surge in students spending the last week or so on the town before returning to their colleges. This was after making one or two calls from my apartment before take-off. Eventually I found a squalid, cockroach-infested room at a seedy hotel on 8th Avenue. And I had no guide, nor was I was in company at the host's table, as Reeve always seem to be.

And oh yes, talking at the TV screen, often walking while doing so. If I was to talk alone into the air, anyone watching would think that I was a nut who had escaped from a loony asylum. With Reeve, we all watch, glued to the screen. There is the difference. Neither Reeve or any other presenter travel alone. Instead, they always have a team with them, including camera crew and a director, plus various other crew members as needed. Having a team also protects him from danger if broadcasting from a political dangerous territory, as he has the whole corporation behind him, who was involved in arranging the local guide as well as hotels, guesthouses and private homes, along with all travel payments and facilities, and what to present along with how to go about it.

That is what is hidden in a typical TV documentary, especially involving travel, the things we don't see. The TV crew who accompanies the presenter, and makes sure everything goes hunky-dory. What I'm really saying is, if given the chance and allowed the right preparations, even over months, I have actually pondered whether presenting such a documentary would have been within my abilities! With such back-up, any potential error in facts would be edited out, and with a speech impediment, a more than average number of outtakes may be required. The only setback to this idea is that our culture requires that a university degree is demanded for this occupation. Simon Reeve has disproved this. Only having done a mere average at school, I believe that a period of his life working at a "terrible job" had benefited him well, refining his character and developed a pleasing personality.

As for myself making a presentation, let's take the Grand Canyon, a location which has always dazzled me since I saw it first time in 1978. We know that it is approximately two hundred miles long and about 1,600 metres deep. It is a huge gorge cut through the Colorado Plateau by the constant flow of the Colorado River. Between 1880 and 1881, Clarence Dutton, a British geologist who also had an interest in eastern religions, gave names to many of the more spectacular features within the Canyon. Buttes such as Buddha Temple, Zoroaster Temple, Cheops Pyramid, Isis Temple, Wotan's Throne, Deva Temple, Brahma Temple, Hopi Point, O'Neal's Butte, Plateau Point, Tonto Plateau and other features were all unknown to me when I completed the two hikes to the River, first in 1978 then again in 1995. But with thorough research, using both maps and photography, all of these became familiar. How possible would it have been to research before the hike, and then give a running commentary on the trail, together with an expert guide who would have corrected any error, itself edited out before broadcast.

Brahman Temple (left) and Zoroaster Temple buttes overlook the Colorado River, Grand Canyon, 1995.

This is one of the things people don't see in me and other like individuals. The potential to shine. Instead, the powers that be looks for a piece of paper with a degree printed on it, along with the sparkling personality which would have enhanced the delivery of the message.

Something like this has occurred already. Back in 1990, I offered to write an article for my former church elder. When the elder received it, he read it and looking surprised, asked,

Frank, did you really write this?

Yes, yes, I wrote it. You thought I was illiterate, didn't you?

(Implied) Illiterate? No, not necessarily. But window cleaners are supposed never to have shone at school, else you would have had a far more respectable career.

A few years later, I offered to write an article about church members helping the unemployed find work. After interviewing the person involved, to collect enough material for composition, I arrived home and started writing. The person I submitted the article to was somewhat flabbergasted! Window cleaners are not supposed to have produced such written work. According to our British culture, such labourers are supposed to be dim. A week later, I believe, the article appeared in a local newspaper, one of quite a number of articles I have written and were published.

I am amazed at the attitude of Paul the apostle. Had he been around in my lifetime, he would have taken me by the scruff of the neck, rebuked my pessimism (inherited from my Dad) and would have told me that God has given everything I needed, so get writing! Because in his first letter to the church in Corinth, he wrote:

I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate. Isaiah 29:14, 1 Corinthians 1:18-31.

I thank and praise my Saviour that he has given me enough enlightenment to glorify him. And that is what I wish to do, glorify God. Paul has also written in his same letter that we as believers are all members of the body of Christ. (1 Corinthians 12). Within this chapter, he emphasises that the parts which are weaker in the body are treated with greater modesty and respect, a direct rebuke to the British obsession with social class.

Am I ashamed of my job as a window cleaner? Do I view my work as "a terrible job?" No not at all.

 
At the time of this writing, I have been earning a living cleaning windows for the last 32 years. As one who is self employed, cleaning windows comes with responsibility, including that of ensuring that all expenses are met, we are able to eat and stay clothed, keep a roof over our heads, as well as being accountable to the taxman. And if God permits, enjoy some travel too. Sure, my line of work has collected some teasing, like "an up-and-down job" (in referring to the ladders used) and even ridiculous titles, like "Vision Technician" - thought up by the middle classes as a vain attempt to grant us greater respect.

Paul wrote that whatever we do, do for the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31.)

Now that is something for Simon Reeve to ponder on.
 

Hats Off To Jesus - That's It For Another Year

December at last! After thirty days of November, here in the UK, which I think was the dreariest month of the year, with dark evenings drawing in and the weather getting cooler and wetter, I feel a better mood comes in with December. Winter Solstice, the end of the year, Christmas holidays, the world of snow, Christmas trees, tinsel, baubles, giant illuminated plastic Santa and coloured lights ablaze over city streets, knowing that children are getting excited for their presents, wallets are getting slimmer by the day as bank accounts diminish and the credit card goes into overdrive. Meanwhile, stockists of socks and neck-ties feel their eyes sparkle as wives and girlfriends enter their shops to keep their tills ringing.

And oh yes, people who had little time for anything spiritual throughout the rest of the year begin to turn "churchy". As Christmas carols begins to be sang, the pews begin to fill. The BBC's Christmas broadcast of Songs of Praise each year brings views of packed cathedrals, beautiful traditional carols and a wide TV audience.

There is something nice about a helpless baby in the crib. He does not pose a threat to the way we like to live our lives. An adult Jesus will be too demanding. A baby, on the other hand, is so cute. Everyone would like to hold the baby Jesus and cuddle him. He does not make any demands on anybody, doesn't he?

And the Christmas carols. Surely we all have our favourites. Although I like quite a number of traditional carols, my favourite is Come all ye Faithful. This song contain the verse which just about embrace the whole of the Christian creed in a nutshell. Here it is:

God of God
Light of Light
Lo he abhors not the virgin's womb
Very God
Begotten, not created;
O come let us adore him,
O come let us adore him,
O come let us adore him,
Christ the Lord.

This is such a beautiful song, the lyrics always touches my heart whenever the song is sung. But this is because the carol teaches the incarnation of the Second Person of the Trinity, specifically to die a cruel death on the cross to atone for our sins. As someone once said, Christmas is all about Easter. But it seems to me that a much greater percent of the British population either do not fully link the birth of Jesus Christ to his death and resurrection or do not wish to, and how much less one's daily commitment to him? And statistics seem to bear this out, even if surveys cannot be made absolute cut-and-dry, they do give a fairly approximate guide with allowance for some variations.

In the UK, according to the Christian charity Tear Fund, with 10% of British people attending church on a weekly basis, only 7% of the total population say they are practicing Christians. In turn, 32,200,000, or 66% of the population say they have no connection with church at all throughout the year. The remaining 24% have a nominal connection with the church but don't attend regularly. All this is quite a contrast to the 43% of the British population who attended Christmas services in 2005, compared to the 45.7% who said they had no religion at all.

Furthermore, a graph shows that church attendance in the UK is constantly declining. By examining the chart representing those who profess the faith to those who don't, in 1983 those who called themselves Christian were the majority with 66% professing the faith, until recently, in June 2008 the number of non-believers overtook to become the new majority, by 2009 the number of non-believers stood at 51% to the professing 44%. The remaining 5% probably were not sure. The orange line represents the people of other faiths, such as Muslim, which stayed practically level throughout the 26 years the survey covered. (To study the illustration, you may have to bring the zoom to 200%.)

In the USA, statistics seem to indicate that 26% of the population attend church every week or more. States such a Louisiana, Alabama and South Carolina top the bill with a staggering 58% of the state's population attending church regularly. In turn, New Hampshire and Vermont, in the New England area, has a lowest attendance of 24%. But by looking at the comparisons, it becomes immediately obvious that the Americans are much more keen on regular church attendance than the British. And yet, a recent news report says that the UK is one of the most generous countries in Europe, if not the world when it comes to giving to charities. Charity TV shows, such as the BBC annual Comic Relief and Children in Need entertainment shows has always raised millions of pounds from the viewing audience, in addition to private giving, the greater number of donations going to medical charities.

So here in the UK we see ourselves as a Christian country. We make a great festival of Christmas, so much so, that the image of a baby lying in a cattle feeding trough somehow gets lost in all the bright lights and tinsel glitter. We all love to celebrate Christmas. And I would dare to say that die-hard atheists such as Professor Richard Dawkins had every year pulled and snapped a Christmas cracker with his family members over a table laid with a succulent roast turkey with all its trimmings, followed by Christmas pudding set alight with Brandy and served with lashings of cream. Not to mention nuts, chocolates and all other festive niceties to add to the excitement in his children's eyes as they tore away the gaily-coloured wrapping to reveal their presents. Indeed, thanks to the Christian faith, even atheists can, and do enjoy the holiday.

And this is the point of this article. Although we love Christmas, we still want to keep the baby in the crib. In the crib is where we want the child to stay, because if we take him out of the crib, he'll start to grow up. And as he grows, he'll begin to say things we would not want to hear. Real horrible things like as; to be his disciple, we must take up the cross and follow him. And to add to this, the preference to him over everything we have, including our family and even our own lives. And the gritty discomfort we feel when he quotes from the Law of Moses. And whenever he quotes from the Law, we become aware of our own sins, and that is not nice. And those statements he comes out such as selling all that we have and give the proceeds to the poor and come follow me. Okay, we might be rich in Heaven one day but does this mean I have to wonder homeless through the cold, wet streets? After all, he did say that foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head, and that the servant is not greater than his master. Challenging stuff!!!

Yes, he did say also, on this very issue, that what's impossible with men is possible with God. Then that bit which really puncture our righteous pride. That is to trust in him brings eternal life, and this life is in the Son of God, and not of ourselves. So what are we left with? Nothing. For the Cross of Christ slays the old man stone dead. In other words, to live is Christ, and not of us. Little wonder that we want to keep the child in the crib, even to celebrate his birth every year. But stay in the crib he must.

But would Jesus Christ really want every follower to catch rheumatism, arthritis and a host of other ailments by tramping through the cold, wet, wind-blown streets? Well, there is absolutely no record of this ever happening, but history is filled with records of imprisonment, torture and death of saints who has answered his call. But with all of these martyrs, it would have been impossible for a single case to have happened unless God himself gives him the power. Because our self-preservation is the strongest instinct every person has, only the power of the Holy Spirit in the person would make his love and commitment to Christ even stronger than his natural instinct. So the central message for every true believer is this: Be filled with the Holy Spirit and let him both guide you and be rich in the knowledge of his word, which is gotten by reading the Bible with a believing heart. Only then would it become possible for your love for God and his Kingdom to dominate your life to the point of death.

After all, in Heaven one's joy is so full, so satisfying that it can be likened to a child's excitement on a Christmas morning, except that the excitement is eternal. There will be no unwanted presents, no burnt turkey, no family rows, no hangover from excess drinking, most important of all, no post-holiday blues to endure on the first day back at work.

Merry Christmas.