• The Hope of my Roman Catholic Friends

    I know so many Roman Catholics. I minister to a lot of Roman Catholics. A number of Roman Catholics minister to me, bringing me life and joy and love.

    Those relationships mean that I live with their hope.

    The news that the pope was going to retire brought that hope out into the open. It is an extraordinary moment where a conservative pope has, in his last major act, redefined the papacy as we know it for our lifetimes. From now on, those who select a pope will not presume that person must go on through the weariness of old age to death. They have new expectations that could well lead to younger popes and that makes the hopes of those I love rise.

    And that hope is almost unbearable to behold.

    I’ve just heard that Keith Patrick O’Brien has resigned in the wake of a number of allegations being made against him by three priests and an ex-priest. (Such talk has been doing the round privately for some time). I understand that he disputes these allegations.

    The Roman Catholic Church needs now to say how these allegations will be investigated. The now ex-Cardinal’s resignation doesn’t remove the need for those who have brought these allegations to hear the truth spoken, whatever that truth may be.

    Though I am not immediately with Roman Catholic friends, I can feel their hope rising for a different kind of leadership.

    The opposition that the Roman Catholic Church has made to gay couples being able to be married has been pretty vile and some things that have been said have come from the mouth of Keith Patrick O’Brien who was named a Stonewall’s Bigot of the Year in 2012. If these allegations are proved to be true, people will call him worse than that this time. If not, then he has been unjustly and horribly accused.

    I take no pleasure from his departure and I don’t think I know anyone in any of the churches who will. This brings none of us any good.

    Today I bind my prayers with the aching hopes of so many Roman Catholics I love. And I leave all I say and think about these things there.

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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