• For Baghdad, for Beiruit, for Paris

    image

    On the day of the 9/11 attacks, I was in Paris. At just about the time of the 9/11 attacks I was in the Louvre, looking at this icon. I had specifically flown there to see it on a very short overnight stay in the first madness of cheap Ryanair flights when you could just decide you were going to Paris to see an icon.

    The icon iteself is fairly well known. They use it in Taize and it is often called “The icon of friendship”, the narrative being that Jesus has his arm around a fellow traveller who walks the road beside him. It is in fact St Mina whom Jesus has his arm around and I like to remember him by name as he is a patron of those who travel. The icon comes from the middle east (from Egypt) and in modern times is one of those things which unites Eastern and Western eyes.

    Remembering standing in front of it in Paris and later learning of the 9/11 attacks, it seems an appropriate thing to post today after a day of terror in Beirut, Baghdad and Paris.

    I’ve seen several grumpy posts on twitter going on about the wave of “meaningless” religious posts that we will see online. People angry at what they see as empty gestures.

    The desire to hold a place or a people or a person or a situation in one’s heart seems to me to be a more human thing than a religious thing – it is in fact what unites us rather than something that divides us.

    And yes, on one level the posts may seem banal to some. But holding someone’s hand or putting an arm around a shoulder could be seen as banal and meaningless too. Yet it is all we can do sometimes and what we need to do.

    Today I’m thinking of that icon in that city and the other cities which suffered yesterday which are not at the forefront of our minds because somewhere inside we believe sudden violence is more normal there. I’m thinking of the hands held, the shoulders embraced. The weeping, the grieving and the dying.

    The people of Paris have the right to peace. So do the people of Beirut and Baghdad. But that is perhaps for another day. Today the arm around the shoulder; the affirmation that we walk this world together.

    Politics later.

    Eternal God
    For Paris, for Beirut, for Baghdad.
    For the grieving, for the dead and for the wounded.
    For a world united.
    Amen.

7 responses to “Reclaiming the web”

  1. Paul Hutchinson Avatar
    Paul Hutchinson

    Thank you for making me think in a different direction just before pausing for lunch. I have never had a blog, so came quite late to Internet social discourse, and have engaged more since joining one major network in 2010 and another in early 2014 – normally using those networks rather than a comment box such as this. Not all of us are natural creators of substantial original content, but like to be thoughtful in brief exchange, and so both those major networks, though cursed with many difficulties, serve those brief exchanges quite well. I do agree that the endless recycling of links (on both of them) can be wearying, and I do wish that some old friends would be a little more self-critical. But the price of any kind of social discourse is that one is vulnerable to the otherness of the other.
    I feel I ought to be writing a more substantial comment here, but hope that this is enough. The time is not always there to offer deeper reflection: but sometimes a blogger needs to hear at least a small splash from the stone thrown down the well!

    1. Kelvin Avatar

      Thanks for the comment, Paul. I’m aware that not everyone is a content creator, but perhaps what I miss is the sense of discovering different communities online and keeping the comments more or less in one place helps with that.

      The glory days of 50 or more comments on a post are probably over. I suspect I mourn the sense of community being created even more than I miss the interesting reflections of others. Retweets and shares are always welcome – but they are the means of amplification. Becoming loud isn’t the same as becoming wise, nor the same as becoming connected.

  2. Seph Avatar
    Seph

    It’s a damnable shame—and mostly the fault of Facebook. Twitter at least has an etiquette of sorts, wherein it is considered impolite not to respond to the original tweet, which is usually made by the blogger in question.

    Facebook, in short, is the scourge of the Internet. I have often been in groups which have decided to do all of their organizing on Facebook, despite my protests that I’m not on Facebook and don’t want to be, and really an e-mail list would be just as easy, and would they like me to set one up. This inevitably leads to my marginalization within the group, as no-one bothers to keep me abreast of the discussions to which I am not party.

    Can you tell I’m upset about this?

  3. Daniel Lamont Avatar
    Daniel Lamont

    I am only an occasional user of Facebook but I know what you mean, Kelvin. And indeed, I never read the comments ‘below the line’ on newspapers like ‘The Guardian’. You offer some useful advice. I read yours and one or two other blogs on a regular basis but don’t always comment. However, I can see that the author of a blog would like some feedback. I would be sad not to have the blogs that I do read because they do give me a sense of what people are thinking and an odd sense of community.

  4. Father Ron Smith Avatar
    Father Ron Smith

    My own contribution to the blogopshere is, I’m afraid, Father Kelvin, limited to comments I make on other people’s blogs (such as ‘Thinking Anglicans’ and ‘Anglican Down Under’ – a local NZ forum; plus my own blog ‘kiwianglo’, where i pluck articles that interest me personally from the web and provide my own commentary. This still interests me, personally, and provides my few readers with information they might not otherwise be bothered to glean for themselves. Like you, I am no longer an avid Facebook fan.

  5. David Campbell Avatar

    Hi Kelvin – thoughtful as ever – and yours is invariably the first blog I turn to each day. That you bring pressing issues to a wider audience and to people who know, or used to know, the church you serve is a great thing. I’m still blogging relatively strongly, but it’s certainly a different blogging experience when work is set in a very different context and especially community from previously, writing these days mainly for myself about things that interest me, although not quite at the address you have in your Blog Roll. http://www.limpingtowardsthesunrise.com is where it’s “all” happening.

    1. Kelvin Avatar

      Thanks David – nice to hear from you. I’ve amended the link.

      I don’t think many people use blogrolls to find blogs these days but whenever I remove it my mother complains…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Previous Posts

  • Blog Redesign

    I’ve spent the morning of my day off doing a little refreshing of the blog design. I decided that it was time to say goodbye to the design that I’ve been using for ages and move to something a little more minimalist. (Did I ever tell you that I was a minimalist in my heart?)…

  • Ask! Tell!

    Today shall not pass on this blog without noting the change in the law that now allows gay people to service openly in the military in the USA. The so-called “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” rule that has now been consigned to history was an emblematic piece of hypocrisy. The idea was that it was OK…

  • To Pollokshields

    Off to Pollokshields yesterday for the institution of the Rev Paul Romano at St Ninian’s church. Ten minutes before kick-off it seemed as though there was no-one there, but by the time we started, there was a great crowd, surely one of the largest to gather in St Ninian’s in recent years. The church itself…

  • Opera Review – Orpheus in the Underworld

    Scottish Opera – 10 September 2011 As published on Opera Britannia Rating: Scottish Opera is at the start of taking a bawdy romp around Scotland and Northern Ireland with an inventive, witty and utterly filthy Orpheus in the Underworld. This is an exemplary touring show – satirical, relevant, well sung and with plenty of naughtiness…