• For Baghdad, for Beiruit, for Paris

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    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.

4 responses to “The Privatization of Public Space and the Commonwealth Games”

  1. Christine McIntosh Avatar

    We were there yesterday as well – you should use Swarm and I might have known! But we left after the first gate for the same reasons as you’re complaining here – that feeling of being in school, or a prison, perhaps. Not a good move, Glasgow!

  2. Robin Avatar
    Robin

    > More troubling to me is that people on the Green were apparently being told to cover up YES badges indicating their support for Scottish Independence.

    What about people with NO badges? Or was no-one wearing one?!

    Seriously, a good post and I agree with it.

  3. Matthew Pemble Avatar
    Matthew Pemble

    I was not only frisked each way walking from Douglas St to “The Hub” (back of the Science Centre) but, on the way back when I was actually going to stop in the BBC’s carnival to buy some (in the end, over-priced and under-nice) lunch, the security weasel suggested that I might like to opt out of walking through a public right of way and go some 500m elsewhere so I wasn’t an inconvenience to her and her colleagues.

    A. She wasn’t a volunteer.
    B. The restriction of individual liberty is the first and most desired recourse of petty British officialdom.
    C. Unlike petty French officialdom, whose first and most desires recourse is Madam Guillotine.

  4. Alan McManus Avatar

    After a PR blunder involving a local Guru of ethnic minority (technically the majority) Herod was anxious to be seen to be benevolent. “5K” had a historical precedent; the concept was simple, marketable and had obvious corporate tie-ins with opportunities for merchandising. The Vizier sourced another Guru, a cousin of the dead one but with better ratings and demographics (and a lot more camera-friendly). Generic ads (CARING/ SHARING/ WEALTH CREATION) went viral on social media, the venue was booked and tickets (£15) sold online.
    Jesus proved difficult from the start. He wanted it free and couldn’t see the need to fence the Table. He couldn’t even see the need for the Table. “Okay” said the Vizier (whose eyes kept glazing over as Security patched in on his Link-Up) “we love you, we love the robes and sandals, we love the concept – yeah? Let’s just keep the synergy flowing and focus on half-full, blue skies – sorry – Mike? Yeah PR here, how’s that bulldozing going? Yeah? Flat. And can you schmooze the protesters off-camera? Yeah. We’ll need the whole space for carparking. Sorry – so, Jesus, right? Cool. Just some Health & Safety details to go over:
    • Bread ‘n Fishes shrinkwrapped 5K pax must remain in the corporate cooler till distribution by authorised personnel only – all in Hi Viz.
    • No healing or blessing, it’s just too big a crowd and we don’t want a crush at the barriers (also healing kinda spins our plucky human interest stories outta line).
    Your slot is 3 mins max, Jesus, we’ve drafted your mission statement, here. Any vocab issues? We want the tone local, down with the Palestinian people, not too obviously Roman. Let’s just go over it:
    1. Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s (we don’t do God)
    2. Yes you can! (can you avoid the whole structural poverty rant? it comes across as patronising and we want to emphasise equal opportunity)
    3. The parable of the talents (just as it is)
    Cool.”
    Everything went smoothly on the day. The whole area had been cleared of undesirables and Herod’s helicopters, horseguards and hounds kept the peace in the huge crowd packed between the steel barriers, happily clutching their tokens for Bread ‘n Fishes; tasteful woven willow miniature food baskets (blessed ones £5 extra) and leaflets for voluntourism. Alternating muzak and plucky soundbites on the massive LED screens kept the crowd amused while they waited for the main act.
    Which never came. Jesus had slipped through the crowds and walked away.

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