Category Archives: Personal

A Dark Testimony IV – Me

This entry is part 5 of 5 in the series The Problems of Evangelicalism

Each of the dark testimonies I have shared so far has been different, and yet they’ve had disturbingly similar features too. We’ll get to that in the final part of this collection, when I write a sort of ‘plenary’ piece in bringing them all together.

And for this last testimony, I will share a few of my own[1] stories of abuse at the hands of a former church. And mine is different again from previous testimonies. Plus there’s a couple of minor anecdotes too πŸ˜‰

I was a worship leader in a Charismatic Evangelical house church, which had grown to the size where the main congregational meeting was held in a hired public hall. In many ways, I was the worship leader, in that I was the Director of Music for the church, and led the worship group consisting of a couple of rhythm guitarists, bass guitar, me on piano/keyboards and lead vocals, and two backing vocalists, Cathy and my wife Fiona.

Every week, I would lead a congregation of a couple of hundred people in worship, from my keyboard, and the worship was always amazing. People would come from all over the region to join in; we had a reputation for it.

I didn’t have any ego problems, except that being an honest Autistic person (I didn’t know it then) I didn’t have any qualms about knowing how good it was.

And my secret was very simple. I just said that I was going to worship Jesus now, and anyone who wanted to do so was welcome to come along and worship with me. And that was it; everything just flowed from there.

It was quite interesting once… on one particular occasion where the leadership decided they wanted to try a new variation of dishonouring me and, by extension, the rest of the congregation, this time they got in another worship leader – a very arrogant one, as we shall see – and put him on for like a first ‘spot’ during the worship time[2]. The guy, whom we will call Johannes for the purposes of the storywas an existing member of our congregation. He was the leader of a well-known (in Christian circles, anyway) Christian band who had several recordings published in those days, you know, vinyls and cassette tapes[3]. The worship wasn’t bad; the music was good, as you’d expect from a professional musician and his band – but nothing really seemed to be happening in the worship sense.

Anyway, once Johannes had finished his ‘spot’, the leadership then expected me to just get up and carry on as normal, ignoring that I was outside my usual routine and also being deliberately put up on stage for ‘comparison’. Quite what their objectives were has never been made clear to me. I wouldn’t even want to begin to speculate; God’s ways are higher than our ways, we are told, but I am sure that the Elders’ ways were higher even than that πŸ˜‰

So, as Johannes left the ‘stage’ area, he literally turned towards me, sneered at me, and said, ‘There you go; follow that!’ Really, that’s what he said!

Well, I just grinned at him. This is my calling; to lead others into the presence of God, and nothing on Earth would prevent that happening. I said to the horrified crowd, ‘Let’s just worship’, and stood at the keyboard for my first worship song.

As soon as I played that first chord, the Spirit just came down like a flood. What an amazing worship time it was. Not boasting or anything; that’s just how it happened πŸ˜€

Later, I did think it was kind of like that Elijah vs. the Prophets of Baal scene in the Old Testament (1Kings 18:20-40), except no-one got hit by any fireballs, neither aimed ones nor stray ones. Or, maybe, going even further back, it was like the bit in Genesis where God accepts Abel’s sacrifice but not Cain’s (Gen 4:4-5). Well actually no;Β  I am absolutely sure that God accepted both of our worship sets – it wasn’t Johannes’s fault. He wasn’t a bad bloke really; he had a heart for worship and a real heart for God, but he had an arrogance about him, and to be fair to him it was all a set-up anyway – both Johannes and I had been set up – by the totally incompetent leadership. But God came through despite them.


Well, that’s the story. It isn’t all that much in terms of hurt on my behalf; what happened more was that the congregation, of course, saw the whole thing and must have wondered what on Earth was happening, and themselves been hurt by it.[4] To see their beloved, faithful, reliable and servant-hearted worship leader being treated like that must have hurt them a lot. I’m just glad that they will have found some healing in the worship session that I led that day – because that’s what happens when you’re in the manifest presence of God. Still, though, what confidence does that give the congregation in their leadership, when they pull a stunt like that? Setting up an upstage scenario like that (either way; Johannes upstaging me, or me upstaging Johannes, or even both!) – I mean, really?? And they’d also set Johannes up for rejection too; like I say in one of the footnotes, it kind of put them off Johannes after that. How stupid of the leaders; how senseless!

I mean, I wouldn’t want to be a church leader for any money. But somehow it seems that church leadership are not chosen for their competence, and this lack of competence in leadership shows throughout congregations – and especially Evangelical congregations, where people are told that the only ‘ability’ that is required is ‘avail-ability’ – all across Christendom. In fact, when you really think about it, in the grand scheme of things, these men are essentially nobodies. They’re nothing special, at least in terms of abilities or anointing. At least, this lot weren’t. They’re just ordinary guys[5]. And yet they make decisions and announce edicts and rules and stuff that can seriously affect people’s lives, and all the while forgetting, it seems, that attendance at any church is voluntary, not mandatory[6] and that at any time people can just leave and not come back. Even if it’s in the middle of a song πŸ˜‰

Speaking of leaving in the middle of something, Fiona and I did once get a bollocking for leaving a service at ‘half-time’. We’d done the music and we went out before the sermon. That was because my parents had booked us to have lunch with them, so we left in order to make that rendezvous with them. So these two EldersΒ  turned up at our house as a team, to air their grievances. ‘You shouldn’t have left at half-time; when you’re there, you’re there for the duration'[7]. I can’t remember whether it was in private or in some sort of meeting; most likely it was the latter because I seem to remember there being a good few other people there too… it may have been at a music group practice? I can’t remember. So anyway we were told off good and proper, and poor Fiona burst into tears. One of the Elders was very harsh: ‘There’s no point in crying about it; you’ve done something wrong!’ sort of thing. And this was in our own home as well; invaded and violated by these two. And it also needs to be said that the harsh Elder in that pair later ran off with another congregant’s wife, so there’s that.

We should really have left the church there and then, after that castigation, but sadly we stayed – mainly because I was still sure that our calling was to lead worship there. And also partly because the Roland JV-30 keyboard that I was playing (which didn’t belong to me; it was the church’s) was a real joy to play and minister with; it was state-of-the-art and such a lovely instrument πŸ˜‰ [8]

Another time, a preacher got annoyed with me because I had to go and lie down behind the rear seats at the back of the hall after a particularly powerful worship session. When you’re leading, you can’t really let yourself be ‘overcome by the Spirit’ like most congregants can, because people are relying on you to play and lead. You can’t just fall over at the keyboard because a) you might break it, and b) you can’t play any longer because you can’t reach the keys from your new potition on the floor πŸ˜‰ When I left the stage area after that session, I was shaking all over and could hardly walk, such was the power of the Spirit on me. So I staggered to the back and collapsed there, out of sight.

Except that the beady-eyed preacher[9] had spotted me, and he told me to get up because you shouldn’t be lying down during the sermon. Like, you see, the Spirit has to stop doing Her stuff once the music stops; She’s not allowed to carry on blessing someone and speaking words of love to them, because that would interrupt the far more important words that the preacher was about to say. Interesting how that is almost a precursor for any behaviour where humans’ words are placed on a pedestal above God’s words or, in this case, actions. He was blind to what God was doing with me that day. He’s also the same preacher who, on one memorable occasion,[10] began his sermon, then after half an hour of blindingly dull droning, he said, “Right, so that’s just the introduction!” And I kid ye not, an audible groan went up from the congregation at that point. And he actually didn’t notice! For crying out loud…. 🀣

I remember once, not long after our Church started, during the worship I sometimes used to sit on the front of the piano (this was a real upright piano, not the Roland keyboard I had later) during phases like the ‘collection’ or the ‘notices’; times where there wasn’t a lot of music going on, so I’d lower the lid over the keyboard and sit on it with my feet on the piano stool. Trouble was, I was so poor at that time[11] that I couldn’t afford new jeans, and so there were huge holes shall we say, ‘under’ the jeans. Thus, although I of course wore underpants, the view was apparently quite disconcerting to certain members of the congregation. And I didn’t have a clue about it πŸ€£πŸ˜‚ So, of course, as is typical in churches (which is why I am mentioning this particular adventure) some of the offended parties ignored Bible passages like Matthew 18:15 (in their own Rulebook, remember!) where Jesus encourages people with a grievance to go and talk privately with the offending party, and instead they went and told the Elders. Those people had probably been like that at school, too; going and blabbing to the teacher whenever they see something they don’t like. And they’d never lost the habit πŸ˜‰ Anyhoo, one of the Elders (my ‘favourite’ one, with whom I had a close relationship as we went to Bible college together) came to me and shared the ‘problem’ really sensitively and gently. I hadn’t realised there was a problem but I took it well and sorted it. Can’t remember how, though. Maybe I just stopped sitting on the piano πŸ˜‰ But what he did say was that when they told their tales to him, he did say to them, ‘Have you ever thought of buying Anthony a new pair of jeans?’ One of the great leaders, that man was; it’s a shame that he had to leave the church later because of the way they treated people. This series is most emphatically not about him!

Then there was the time in 1990 when I was musical director for a presentation of the Graham Kendrick Christmas musical, ‘The Gift‘, at Guiseley School in West Yorkshire. After three months of rehearsals and practice, with a very large music group and choir gathered from across all the churches in the area, we were ready for what was sure to be a really big event. Not only was I musical director, but I was also lead pianist, and lead vocalist on two of the tracks.

And they wanted me to buy a ticket to get in.

Yes, they wanted me to pay to get in to my own show. Only in churches, eh? Only in churches. This time I did stand up for myself, though. “What do you call this, then, ‘pay as you play’? I can’t afford a ticket, and I wouldn’t buy one if I could. My dad was a professional musician and he never had to pay to get in to one of his gigs, duh. If you won’t let me in, then the show will just have to flop, won’t it”. They caved πŸ˜‰ Unsurprisingly. And the show went a bomb[12].

Here’s a photo of the show in full swing, and that’s me at the piano. Back when I had hair. They let me in after all 🀣🀣😜[13]

And finally, I remember once we’d been at a Christian Festival; a week-long camping event that was essentially a clone of the Dales Bible Week, and we’d come back all ‘fired up’ and full of new songs that we’d learned there. Of course, being a gifted musician and fully capable of playing the songs – at least those I liked, anyway[14] – as soon as I’d heard a song once or twice, and played it once through on the piano, I’d know the song for life. Anyway, on this particular occasion, one of the Elders was leading worship and he wanted one of the new songs and he decided to use my gifting – which he knew about – against me, and outside the parameters of its proper use, as far as I was concerned, anyway, which is all that matters when it comes to gifting. We hadn’t practised the song as a band, nor was there an overhead projector slide (Remember those?!) with the lyrics on it. So I gently refused to play it. Very quickly, the situation deteriorated to the point where he was growling and shouting at me through gritted teeth to play the song. Quite what the congregation thought, I don’t know. But I played it, and once again they got away with it. His tirade burst the ‘worship bubble’, though πŸ˜‚; no-one felt like singing very much after that….

So, there we are. That’s just a few stories of whole loads of ridiculous nonsense heaped upon just one man in just one church[15]. I don’t know a) why they thought they could get away with it, and b) why I let them get away with it. Actually, that latter isn’t quite correct; like I said earlier, I was there because I knew that was my calling. And also for the other reasons mentioned in some of my footnotes. Maybe they knew that about my calling, though, and they knew that nothing they did would divert me from that calling – and took full advantage of that.

I don’t know; I find it hurts my head just to try to think down to that level. Far better for me to live my simple life of faith in the One Who loves me, than to get embroiled in church politics – because that’s what it was.

A far cry from the Grace under which I now live my life πŸ™‚

Grace and peace to you!


[Addendum]: Just after finishing this essay, I had a really surreal experience. I happened across a YouTube video featuring my old pastor, who’s now well into his eighties, preaching a sermon. And I listened to it; he’s still saying the same things and doesn’t seem to realise that God has moved on…. still, the surreal bit was that his preaching is still just as compelling as it always was. It’s not surprising that they had us under kind of a spell. Really really strange feeling to hear that quite-nasal voice again, to see his gestures and mannerisms, and, yes, see the actual warmth of his heart. It’s really really odd. And I know he’s not a bad man; he’s more of a teacher than a pastor is what I think nowadays – and I still love him. But I would still never go back.


Header image is an artist’s impression of a neutron star, the remnant cinder of what was once a huge supergiant star which, once upon a time, more or less ran out of fuel and exploded in a brilliant supernova, leaving a cold, dense, dark core spinning in space forever and warping everything around it. Bright and powerful, then burned out yet still breaking things. There’s a message there, isn’t there? πŸ˜‰


Comments have been disabled for this post

Footnotes

Footnotes
1 Just a few of many, believe me!
2 I must make it clear at this point that no-one had told me that this was going to happen; it was completely out of the blue, as it were.
3 This was before anyone had even dreamed of CDs and mp3 files!
4 And sadly, but understandably, they didn’t really like Johannes all that much after that episode…. ‘Follow that!’ indeed! 🀣🀣
5 I can’t remember who it was, but it may have been Douglas Adams, or maybe Terry Pratchett, or maybe even the great Arthur C. Clarke, who said that people who put themselves forward for high leadership positions are usually the very last people who should be in such positions.
6 Except of course in the more high-control churches, but to be fair ‘my’ church wasn’t really like that.
7 Something that they failed to appreciate was that we could have done it in a different and far more inconvenient way. We could have told them that we were not going to be there that week, and simply not gone to Church. And they’d have had to arrange something else in terms of musicians; anyway most of the band was still there after we’d gone, and fully competent they were too. But we could have simply not been there at all. Instead, though, we did what we saw as the ‘right thing’ and turned up to play, and then left when we’d done our bit. There was no further inconvenience to anyone apart from maybe having to do their last song a capella (unaccompanied), although like I said there were still other competent musicians there and they were happy with our leaving at half-time. There wasn’t even a keyboard to pack away as this was before we’d got the Roland synth. If we’d not been there, and made arrangements for cover, we’d not have been castigated; instead, we did turn up and we got a bollocking anyway. How utterly, utterly stupid and irrational is that??
8 Also, it says a lot for either our indoctrination, our reluctance to ‘rock the boat’, or our subconscious reluctance to give them an opening for further bollockings – somehow, you know that if you protest, you will fall even further from their favour – that we let them get away with that, absolutely scot-free. I feel terrible now – remorseful – that I did not stand up for myself, nor especially for my beloved wife, on that occasion. Nowadays, of course, I wouldn’t put up with it at all.
9 And yes, he did have a really beady, disapproving stare!!
10 Only memorable because of what happened!
11 Partly because of having to tithe to the hilt!
12 That means it went well 🀣
13 Interestingly, though, the bloke I had the ‘chat’ with ended up becoming a ‘Grace’ believer. I even got an apology out of him; he volunteered it too. Sorry for anything I did when I was an Evangelical, sort of thing. Very refreshing.
14 For some reason (probably Autism-related), my musical gifting, in terms of playing songs, only extends (musically speaking, that is, not necessarily in terms of lyrics) to pieces I actually like. Songs I don’t like, musically, just don’t stay in my head well enough for me to remember how they ‘go’, and I am completely hopeless at reading sheet music. Songs that have great tunes but dreadful lyrics I can play, but why would I ever want to?? πŸ˜‰
15 That church is now an unrecognisable shred of what it once was. It is a sad fact that congregations who express the unconditional love of Christ are few and far between nowadays. Much more common are groups where the love of Christ has gone cold, and all that is left is the cold, shrivelled neutron star (what’s left of a powerful supergiant star, once its fuel runs out); a cinder of a church that has had its day; it’s only carrying on going in order to try and recapture memories of its past glories, and it’s about time it closed down completely. I’m sure Jesus stil turns up, which to be honest is likely all that keeps them going at all. It’s interesting that folks in such remnant congregations generally have only sin-policing and dislike of β€˜worldly’ systems as their common/uniting factors, rather than uniting in love and letting that love leak out into their community. In a sense, they are closed systems with no new life. Maybe that’s why their fuel has run out…

The Destroyer of Faith

A long Essay on Spiritual Abuse and Religious Trauma

TRIGGER WARNING:

This is a personal story involving religious abuse, and contains descriptions of religious abuse, religious trauma, and the techniques used by religious abusers. It may even come across as a bit of a rant, but I think it needs to be said in any case. It’s not for the faint-hearted. You have been warned! πŸ˜€


There are certain Christians who abuse other Christians in various ways. These people can so easily wreck and sometimes even destroy others’ faith by their words, by the damage those words cause, by their actions, and by their example.

I quote Oppenheimer above in order to emphasise that this kind of behaviour brings death. It is spiritual abuse, which brings spiritual trauma and kills a person’s spirit within them. Spiritual death[1]. And so, these kinds of Religious people are guilty of bringing that spiritual death to other people – sometimes unwittingly, sometimes as a fit of pique, and sometimes deliberately and maliciously. Sadly, I have seen all three πŸ™ Indeed, I would even go so far as to say that they reflect the character of ‘someone’ who is not Father God… indeed, they reflect more the character of the Accuser, who cometh not but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy (Jn 10:10 (KJV))- steal your assurance, kill your joy, and destroy your peace.

But, as always, by their fruits you will know them (Mt 7:16). If their words and actions cause suffering and the ‘steal, kill and destroy’ antics expressed above, you can be sure that that spirit is not from God. And while I realise that faith is a gift from God (Eph 2:8-9), the phenomenon I am describing in this piece is where someone’s God-given faith is so badly desecrated, mauled and smashed by religious abuse – often from a person that the victim should have been able to trust, which is partially why it’s ‘abuse’ – that the person finds it is no longer possible to practice, express, exercise or enact their faith due to the damage that has been done to it. It is rendered lifeless by the abuse endured, partially because the abused person no longer feels safe to express that faith, at least not in the context they live, whether religious or social – or both. That’s why I refer to spiritual abuse as being ‘The Destroyer of Faith’.

In many of my posts, I have railed against Religious people[2] who seem to think it’s their job to police other people’s moral life. Many groups also have people amongst their number who feel free to assume that everyone is subject to their criticism and has to not only listen, but also agree and do something about any points raised, whether or not it’s someone they know and whether or not they have their permission. Certainly, if there is no actual relationship there, then they shouldn’t be doing that.

As a case in point, as my dear friend Derrick Day once said, “If you have a problem with me, call me. If you don’t have my number, then you don’t know me well enough to have a problem with me!”.

Now, granted, you may well offend or injure a complete stranger, in public or in private, and they would be well within their rights to complain to you. ‘Oi! You just trod on my foot!’ or something. And you would hopefully apologise, and that would (again, hopefully) be the end of it. But it’s superficial; there is nothing deep about it, nor is any other action required other than to apologise and maybe pay their medical bills if you injured them. There was no intentionality in it, either malicious or benign; it’s just neutral. I don’t need to expand on this; all of my readers will be familiar with this sort of thing.

However, there are some people, usually Religious people (and some political activists) who demand more. In short, they want blood. They want to know why you did something, what your motivations are, whether or not you are sufficiently contrite (sufficiently, that is, to their satisfaction) and most of all how you are going to make significant lifestyle changes to prevent further occurrences of your wrongdoing. Okay, maybe I’m being a bit hyperbolic, but anyone who has ever received a bollocking from a self-righteous Religious type will know exactly what I’m on about. The bottom line here is that any response to such a complaint is entirely your business, and no-one else’s.

Ten years ago, something like that happened to me. In fact, I wrote some of my first posts on this blog in response to that episode. One such example is the beautiful February 2015 article ‘Confrontation‘, which lays out the sort of approach that a believer, at least, would be advised and indeed expected to adopt, when confronting someone with something that has offended them. Certainly, it must be done in a spirit of restoration and reconciliation, not one of condemnation. No Christian should ever do anything that would cause someone to doubt that God loves them, by whatever means, but especially by lading guilt and condemnation, which can take literally years to throw off, and in some cases the person never recovers[3]. Three articles that may help when it comes to people correcting/judging are here (the ‘Confrontation’ piece referenced above), here and here.

Unfortunately, certain Christians seem to excel at that kind of condemnation, especially when it is inflicted on fellow believers. Maybe that works so well because they know that Christians are especially vulnerable to conscience problems, particularly those who are ‘sin-conscious’ and/or ‘sin-fixated’. Such condemnatory people cause tremendous damage and hurt[4]. While for Jesus it’s true that ‘a bruised reed He will not break; a smoking wick He will not snuff out’ (Isaiah 42:3), many of His followers do not have that same gentleness. As a friend of mine said on Facebook the other day, “Christians are the only ones who go out of their way to make sure that hurting people know they aren’t loved by God”.

Aye, I had to admit to him that, sadly, I’ve seen that first hand. In my case it didn’t work, because I know the truth about myself and about how God sees me, but they did try their best. Ten years ago now, it was.

So, here’s the story, with a bit of background too:

In August, 1999, I began my ‘dark night of the soul‘, where I stopped doing Christian things entirely. The short version of this is that I was being stripped of all the junk that had been hindering my faith for so long; religious requirements that had layered over my simple faith, and other things too. And it lasted for fifteen years. On on Sunday 2nd Feb, 2014, God said to me, ‘Ok lad, it’s time to go back’, so I duly went along with Fiona – and I got thoroughly zapped. Here’s what I posted on Facebook that afternoon: “What a morning. First time voluntarily in a church for fifteen years, and getting thoroughly zapped by God: weeping, laughing, complete acceptance, forgiveness. Wow, wow, wow! Going again tonight hehe”. That divine encounter was simply profound. I had never felt anything like that before, and I later said that I likened it to ‘being born again, again’! Since then, I have known that I would never, ever want to go back to the legalistic, religion-centred faith that I had previously had; it was like becoming a butterfly, having emerged from my fifteen-year chrysalis. My chains had indeed fallen off, and my heart was free!

To continue with the butterfly analogy, the problem with being a butterfly is that, while the butterfly can still speak caterpillar, the caterpillar cannot speak butterfly. It’s like you have a different language. The word ‘Grace’ now actually means something, rather than just something you say at the end of each meeting while holding hands and trying to avoid each other’s eyes, or a short prayer at a meal. Forgiveness is real, ongoing and at the same time permanent. You know that God ‘remember[s] your sin no more’ (Heb 8:12, which quotes Jer 31:34). You know that nothing can snatch you from His hand, nor can you jump! πŸ˜‰ So that by the time of the story I will tell below, my faith was real, vibrant and living, and my assurance complete, my sonship sure and my attitude to ‘sin’ was one of complete freedom to just leave it behind. My joy, despite Fiona’s illness and prognosis, was full and real; indeed, nothing but real joy would have survived the terrible agonies we were going through as a family due to the illness. And my whole frame of reference had shifted, from one of partial reliance on complying with Law, to one wholly, solely and completely dependent on Grace. That’s why I now speak ‘butterfly’!

In December, 2014, in the face of Fiona’s terminal cancer diagnosis, we renewed our marriage vows in a beautiful service in our local Anglican Church, where we were members at the time[5]. The wedding was awesome and many friends old and new came along to bless us, including even some from our former life in West Yorkshire. You know how with some people you have a ‘life bond’; a friendship where even if you haven’t seen each other for like 20 years or more, somehow you just pick up where you left off and things are just as they were before. Well, friends like that.

One of those friends, Sally[6], told us that she was organising a worship conference in February 2015, where Christians from all over the country could get together to learn more about worship. And she invited us to go. The conference was to be a residential one at a Christian centre somewhere well up-country, quite a way from our home in South Devon. But we decided we wanted to go, so we could get a handle on the latest knowledge about practical Charismatic/Evangelical style worship. So off we went, and me just a year into my new life walking in butterfly freedom πŸ˜‰ There was me, Fiona, our daughter Ellie, and my best friend at the time, a very practical and down-to-Earth man called Edd; we considered ourselves to be each other’s ‘wingmen’. We attended (what they referred to as) seminars, and took part in a sort of ‘open mic’ evening; we joined in and generally enjoyed it. We didn’t really learn an awful lot, to be honest[7], and the food was pretty dire[8]. We learned, a lot of, quite frankly, not very useful words denoting different aspects of (I think I recall correctly) worship practices of the ancient Israelites, and similar stuff, but to be honest it was pretty pithy and not much of it was of use. On the plus side, we met some amazing people and made some wonderful new friends, with whom we are still in touch nowadays, and we still continue to bless each other. While in some of the seminars, I heard things I didn’t really agree with, I generally went along with it because I know that not everyone believes the same thing, even at an Evangelical retreat. But there was one point – it was so insignificant that I can’t even remember what it was! – where I put up my hand and asked a question. The speaker, a lady whom we’ll call ‘Joanna’, was a bit nonplussed by it, she tried to answer it, and later I spoke to her privately, to make sure that she knew there was nothing personal involved; it was a genuine question. Little did I know that I had become a marked man! Obviously, for Joanna and her fellow speakers, the word ‘conference’ was nothing of the sort; it didn’t involve any two-way at all; we were expected to just sit there and listen. I am a trained Adult Education Tutor (I used to teach basic computing in evening classes at a local college) and I know that people have different learning styles; evidently Joanna didn’t know that. Probably not a teacher, or probably so full of herself that… well I need say no more! But the next day, I raised my hand to ask another question, and the speaker (not Joanna), even though she saw my hand up, quickly averted her eyes and ignored me. It seemed to me that she’d been briefed to watch out for that guy with the Yorkshire accent, because therein lies trouble! πŸ˜‰ And then, in a later seminar, it was Joanna’s turn to speak again and she said that (and I quote) ‘God can’t do anything without faith as a prerequisite’. Well, that was something I couldn’t really accept, and although I didn’t put my hand up (because I knew I would be ignored), I did put a small post on Facebook that evening:

“I’ve just heard the phrase, ‘God Can’t’. And that at a worship conference, no less. Well, I’m here to say God Can!”

That was it. That was all I put[9].

The next morning, I ran Edd to the local railway station early on, because he had to get back to Devon for some football coaching he was doing that day. I returned in time for breakfast – rubbery sausages, some sort of hard-fried egg with a pale yolk (we have free-range chickens, so we are somewhat spoiled!), Sainsburys Savers beans and the Tesco in-house version of Coco Pops. As I was eating my final bowl of (air quotes) “coco pops”, Sally and Joanna approached the table with facial expressions like those disapproving expressions that used to be worn by Cissie and Ada in the Les Dawson Show. The photo here, of Cissie and Ada[10], does not do Joanna and Sally’s faces justice because they both had tight lips like they’d been sucking lemons, and their heads both held in an identical tilt to the left πŸ˜‚.

Well, they must have indeed been disapproving expressions, because despite being Autistic and generally unable to read any sort of body language, even I noticed, and Ellie called out ‘This looks like an intervention!’ Displaying no humour whatsoever at Ellie’s brilliant comment, as is usual for the Religious when they are ‘on a mission’, they agreed that it was an ‘intervention’. They wanted to take me to task about my Facebook comment of the previous evening. Well, for me, breakfast is a sacred time, for eating not arguing, so I told them I hadn’t finished my breakfast and I was going to do so first. So they sat and watched (something I can’t stand, being Autistic) while I finished off every last orangey-brown drop of cheapo-chocolate flavoured milk from the “coco pops”. Remember this was at a fully-occupied breakfast table with about another four people there in addition to myself and my family – of course, Edd was on a train back to Devon so I didn’t have my wingman there to watch my ‘six’. Anyway, before they started in on me, I made it clear that I am my own man and that I do not recognise any authority over me, including theirs, and they agreed with that on the surface, probably just to get their own way. But in the presence of all these people, in full violation of any Biblical principle about confronting people (Mt 18:15-20) – they made up their own rules as they went along – they proceeded to lambast me verbally about my post, concluding that it was ‘all over the World Wide Web'[11], this being concluded by Joanna’s contemptuous chucking of Sally’s phone (which she had been brandishing) on to the table. Accompanied not only by the obligatory sniff, but also by a demand that I take down the comment. Sally had shown Joanna on her phone what she’d seen on my Facebook feed, and Joanna had gone straight on the warpath. They’d clearly jumped straight to their own conclusions and given it no thought before coming to administer me a bollocking! In addition, she also told me that I had done ‘nothing but contradict her since [I’d] been there’, which is a bit of an exaggeration as I’d only asked one question, and made sure afterwards that we were ‘all good’. Hardly the actions of a disruptive person. And this all being done to a chap who has had only a year to come to to terms with having his faith restored in quite a surprising way, in the presence of my daughter who was just beginning to flourish as a young Christian girl, and my lovely Fiona who had a terminal cancer diagnosis. All these factors; those two women knew about them all. How callous is that? How selfish? I refused to take the comment down, mainly out of principle, because I detest the suppression of free speech just because someone doesn’t like what it written. Fiona was stricken and explained that I have Asperger’s Syndrome, and that most likely I would eventually see their point of view and take the comment down. But they were having none of it. Joanna even said, literally through gritted teeth, that if I was Autistic then they could pray for me![12] I mean, I would probably have got turned into a toad or something! Honestly, words cannot express the depths of the disgust that this episode engendered in me. Needless to say, we returned home that day, missing out on the rest of that last day of the conference – not that we’d have learned much, I’m convinced. Just as the first seminar was being set up – Sally was going to be teaching on that one, so I am sort of sorry I missed it – Fiona went in to see her and to give her a hug; she must have known that this was the last time they would ever see each other and Fiona wasn’t the sort of person who would leave something like that up in the air. But we left. My peace damaged, my mind in a turmoil, my ladies gutted on my behalf. But once the dust had settled, I learned a lot from it as I will describe below. To be honest, I don’t think, now, that Sally intended for Joanna to go off on one like that; I think she was just hurt and shared it with Joanna to share her burden. And Joanna decided to take her already – existing dislike for me (for being trouble enough to listen carefully to what she was teaching and actually ask a question!) into a public shaming event. Shame it tarnished her own reputation more; those around the table got to see just how toxic she was. The old phrase ‘that says a lot more about them than it does about you’ was particularly apropos there! Anyway, I did actually take the post down, within a day in fact, because my attitude was that if it was hurting someone, then it shouldn’t be there, and I messaged Joanna to let her know, at which point she promptly blocked me with no reply. Petty and ungrateful, much. A relevant point here is that while a person may well feel free to take someone to task about something they don’t like, the response to the criticism is always in the hands of the one being criticised. Someone may well feel free to criticise my actions, but they don’t get to dictate my actions. This is a principle that all members of medium- to high-control groups could do with knowing.

But back to the story. It might not seem like much, but for an Autistic person to be publicly humiliated like that – indeed for anyone to have that happen to them! – it’s pretty bad. For someone who is an innocent, clean, joy-filled and free Christian believer acting in good faith – it wasn’t even a bad comment! – to be attacked like that. For a new believer to have to see something that ugly. For a dying lady to have to see the husband she adores being treated like that. That – is disgraceful. And sadly it’s not untypical of religious people to do things like that.

The next few paragraphs may seem a bit random or confused; a bit ‘all over the place’, but please see it as a mosaic of different impressions and realisations, also some expressions of reality, from the fall-out from that event. I have left them like this in order to simulate, in some small measure, the disjointed thinking and shock and damage effect of what it’s like when something like this happens.

I didn’t actually hold anything against the women in the story, and I still don’t. I forgave them, as you can see from the article I wrote only a few days later. I have not published the details of what happened until now; I have certainly not named-and-shamed. I have thought in depth about when – or even whether – to publish this article, or even to write it. Indeed, I am writing it only a few days before it will be published. I have waited on this for ten years. So, it is obvious that it is not coming from a place of either unforgiveness nor bitterness. I am still good friends with Sally[13]. I’m not saying that Joanna is the Destroyer of Faith, nor am I saying that she is a Destroyer of Faith. What I am saying, though, is that her actions are an example of the sort of behaviour thatΒ is the Destroyer of Faith.

I wanted to publish the story because I know that this is not an isolated incident. It may well be for Joanna, of course (although I doubt it; usually people who do this kind of thing already have a habit of it), but still, people need to know that this sort of thing goes on in churches, especially those where the ‘authority’ of leadership – even if they are ‘only’ conference speakers – is held as a licence to abuse people. Joanna’s husband is in the leadership team of Sally and Joanna’s church, so she’s probably seen as some sort of ‘untouchable’. The Evangelical idea of ‘do not touch the Lord’s anointed’ is rife in churches like theirs – although their pastor is one of the kindest, gentlest men I have ever met (he’s not Joanna’s husband). I wonder if he knows that stuff like this goes on among his flock?

I understand that my post was received as hurtful, for which I apologised at the time, and I almost – but not quite – understand why. It was their ‘baby’; they had put a lot of work into the conference (although sadly the other organisers hadn’t put much money into the food budget 🀣 ) and they were offended by my post. That said, my post was more of a general comment anyway, it was not targeted against anyone (I don’t do things like that) and it was posted in all innocence.Β  It wasn’t even about the conference; it was about something that someone said. And if it was that hurtful, why did Sally have to share the hurt even further, except to cause trouble? Why didn’t she come to me, one-on-one? No-one could tell from the post where I was, nor whose worship conference I was at. Part of being Autistic is that it is very difficult, if not impossible, for the Autistic person to see things from others’ points of view, especially when it’s all so convoluted, inferred and second-guessed. This is partly why I stay away from people in general, and occurrences like this only serve to reinforce that attitude as being the correct one in my case.

Leading on from the thing about the conference being their ‘baby’, yes – I get that. But I think that linking my comment about faith with the quality (or otherwise) of the conference was really taking themselves a bit too too seriously. This is a classic example of offence being taken rather than given, as I have shared in other posts. When someone is told that offence was not intended, but they still insist on receiving that offence, then that’s a sure sign that the problem is with them, not with the comment or its creator.

As an illustration of how this incident improved the way I approach life, I wrote, in this article, the following, very observant, comment, which references the events in this story:

“Interestingly, about a year ago I was once again subjected to an (uninvited) barrage of accusations/doctrinal correction/call it what you will, from a β€˜non-free Christian’, and it made me realise, while in the process of categorically rejecting that person’s diatribe, just how far I have come in my freedom. I never want to go back to that life. My β€˜detoxification’[14], as it were, has released me into entirely new freedoms to love people of different views without judging them or trying to change them. And that, to me, is real freedom!”

And now a thought about how some Christians seem to think that they hold some sort of power over others. These Christians could be either leadership, their relatives (‘Elders’ wives’, as it were) or others who feel they have something to say and that they are too important to leave it unsaid. Remember that I stated clearly (after I’d eaten my “coco pops”!) that I did not consider myself ‘under’ Joanna’s authority in any way, which, of course, she then proceeded to ignore. At least from her side, anyway; it didn’t affect the way in which I received the criticism. I still rejected it, and her authority along with it.

Anyway, these kinds of abusive people mis-use the faith position of the victim in order to facilitate their attack. In other words, they know that a fellow believer is likely to have sufficient conscience and gentle heart to listen to criticism, whether that’s in the interest of maintaining harmonious relationships, wanting to ‘keep short accounts with God'[15]or any other good and noble reason[16], and this makes the victim open and pliable for what comes next. Their defences are down; why would they want to raise their defences against a fellow member of the Church family? Until it hits them, of course, but by that time the damage is done.

High-control church leadership invariably go on about people making themselves ‘vulnerable’, citing it as being a ‘softening of the heart’ so that Jesus can change it. There was even a Graham Kendrick song some decades ago, called ‘soften my heart’ which espoused that principle. While the sentiments behind a favourable response to this softening idea is seen as admirable, and indeed it can help some people to become more compassionate, it has two problems. Firstly, such a softening should and must only occur under the prompting and direction of the Holy Spirit, and not from a human, whether or not it’s set to music πŸ˜‰ And it’s usually an unconscious thing; I find that all of a sudden I have reacted to a need in a way I wouldn’t have done before, and I never noticed that my attitudes had changed. That’s how the Spirit works. Secondly, it opens up the believer to abuse; specifically, abuse aimed at the vulnerability of that softened heart. Abusive leaders take full advantage of that, and this was what happened in Joanna’s case with me. And that’s partially why it hurt so much. Although in my case, the main thing was what it did to Fiona; the poor girl was devastated. As was Ellie. ‘Dad, you’ve come so far, and she goes and does that to you’. And she was right. I would also add that these abusive leaders don’t necessarily consciously realise that it’s the ‘softened heart’ they are targeting; they just know that it works. Or at least it does with people who submit to them, at any rate. I cope with the ‘softened heart’ concept in my own way. My heart is indeed soft; I have deep compassion for, well, everyone, including all life, really – animals, plants and so on. But I also have an armoured box, which granted does remain open most of the time, but it stands always ready to snap shut on the approach of nasty people. That’s how I defend; your method may vary.

And it really is time for these destructive people to learn how to respect boundaries. Even for those visiting ‘evangelists’ on my doorstep a couple of weeks ago; they had crossed a boundary. They had knocked on my door despite the clear presence of signs on the door (and right next to the doorbell, too!) that said ‘No Cold Callers’. I wrote to the church a few days later (of course, I am still awaiting a response at the time of writing!)[17] and said this:

“No-one is going to change their mind about not wanting to be disturbed just because it’s religious people doing the disturbing, nor are they likely to want to attend your church if this is how badly people’s boundaries are respected”.

The question of boundaries is indeed an important one. For example, and at the risk of seeming to behave like them!, only in a church will someone ask you a question about sexual matters. They love it. They will even feel free to ask a couple if they are sleeping together! In our pre-marriage ‘counselling’ sessions, Fiona and I were asked straight up if we had ‘misbehaved’ together. I kid you not. No doubt the Elders got some sort of cheap thrills out of it; Fiona was always absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. But the fact remains that they crossed a boundary in asking us that. Christians do so love to talk about sexual matters, all in ‘love’ of course, and ‘strictly as a matter of spiritual healthiness’. I do think it gives them a cheap little frisson of forbidden sexual thrill. But in what world is it ever acceptable to ask someone a question like that? And even more, to expect an honest answer, which in some groups could earn you instant punishment as a reward for your openness? No way!

The take-home message for that is this: I can see absolutely no reason at all to ‘open oneself up’ to the potential of abuse by lowering one’s defences and making oneself vulnerable. [18]. I share this recommendation so as to protect you, my gentle reader, from making the same mistake. There is absolutely no need to make yourself vulnerable to anyone outside your family.

Let’s put that another way: Churches are not family, no matter how much they claim to be. Blood is definitely thicker than water. When I left my church in Leeds, only a very few people from that church maintained contact with us; those who really loved us. Mark and Alison (who greatly helped us in our move south, although I won’t say how because it would embarrass them), Richard and Elizabeth, Chris and Dawn. That’s about it. Not the Church Elders; you know, the men who used to conclude their Elders’ Meetings with a Chinese takeaway paid for with church funds, when I and my family were living on the breadline and tithing to the hilt. The Elders who told me that I couldn’t buy the church synthesiser to go to Devon with me, because how would they find someone who would know how to buy another?[19] Please don’t interpet this prose as a complaining diatribe, nor as bitterness. Like I said, I’m well past all that. But maybe see it as a warning that you simply cannot trust church leadership anywhere near as much as they would tell you that you can. As they’d be the first to tell you (after saying ‘Do not touch the Lord’s Anointed!, of course!’), they are only human. But it further reinforces my belief that the only reason why they put up with me in that church was because I was just so damn good at leading worship πŸ˜€ They weren’t bothered about me as a person.

This is encapsulated perfectly in the following quote from the Irish writer-poet, Dylan Morrison:

“Religious and spiritual movements both tend to come and go, with only Divine Presence remaining constant.
“May I respectfully make a suggestion, one born out of personal experience.
“Don’t pour your whole identity into a movement, no matter what the brand.
“Why not?
“Well, it all usually ends up in tears, disillusionment and deep confusion.
Best to open up one’s heart to the One without change, I reckon”.

– Dylan Morrison

Now, that says it all.

Another factor is the Religious spirit. I go into some detail about that in this article, but for now let’s just say that, as I have already mentioned, some Christians take themselves far too seriously, and that is often (though by no means always!) due to the Religious spirit[20] Here are a few quotations where the lightness and levity of being a free believer are contrasted with the load of being under the religious yoke:

β€œThe Religious of Jesus’ day complained that He was a glutton and a drunkard. Sounds like He was enjoying life pretty much to the full, while at the same time preaching how much God loved people. To me, what they found offensive was that someone could take life so lightly while at the same time taking God so seriously. Religion can’t cope with that”. – Me

β€œβ€¦pride [in this case, pride engendered as part of the effects of the Religious spirit – Ed] cannot rise to levity or levitation. Pride is the downward drag of all things into an easy solemnity. One β€œsettles down” into a sort of selfish seriousness; but one has to rise to a gay self-forgetfulness. A man β€œfalls” into a brown study; he reaches up at a blue sky. Seriousness is not a virtue. It would be a heresy, but a much more sensible heresy, to say that seriousness is a vice. It is really a natural trend or lapse into taking one’s self gravely, because it is the easiest thing to do. It is much easier to write a good Times leading article than a good joke in Punch. For solemnity flows out of men naturally; but laughter is a leap. It is easy to be heavy: hard to be light. Satan fell by the force of gravity.” – G. K. Chesterton

β€œMaybe people should more often than not just [accept what the Bible says] and shake the dust off and leave when their message is not being received? According to the Bible, saying nothing is actually a good thing and shows maturity and wisdom. But alas… They probably won’t, because such is the religious spirit[21]. It always has to be right and always has to get the last word, or it will eat them up inside. Their comments will never seem to be about correcting for love’s sake, but will more than likely seem to be about correcting because nobody is as right as they are.” – Tim

β€œIn general, I’ve found that people who are very legalistic try very hard to recruit others to their ranks. My opinion is that the more insecure one is in what one believes, the more that person will need the validation of others, which is often gained by getting others to join them and by refusing to even hear any other views. I suspect they’re also jealous of those who’ve found freedom by not having to beat themselves over the head daily with guilt and shame and β€œlaws”. Jesus made it clear he didn’t / doesn’t appreciate spiritual enforcers, those who think they’ve got such a grip on righteousness that they are hammers, and everyone who doesn’t agree with them exactly is a nail that needs to be hammered.” – Jack B

And yet, Jesus wants even those with the Religious spirit to loosen up and actually enjoy life with Him. Of course He does. Listen to this:

β€œAre you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with meβ€”watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” – Mt 11:28-30 (Message)

And He meant it, too. For so many Christians, their faith walk is one under the heavy load of religious burdens. My life changed when I shed those burdens and walked free.

β€œThe enemy of the Truth does his best work through the religious folks. He keeps them sin conscious while convincing them that they are Christ conscious. They are the first to throw stones, point out specks and elevate the Bible to the level of an idol. But thanks be unto God that He will bring them too into a realization of Himself through Christ in due course of time. For now ya just gotta love them. They can’t help their blindness.” – C Andrew May

I sincerely hope that this happens, especially to Joanna. Wouldn’t that be great? πŸ˜€

Another point is that who would want to go to a church, any church, where it is expected that you open yourself up to this sort of thing? It’s actually the main reason why I’m writing this essay – in order to warn people of what can happen if someone overcommits or overexposes themselves in this sort of environment. Ok, so I am putting people off going. I’d rather that than have them come to harm, and in any case the churches have brought it on themselves.

No, if you want to go toΒ  a church, go to a simple, quiet little CofE church or something, sing the hymns, feel the presence of God (after all, that’s the whole point!) and leave after the service, or after coffee if you’re feeling brave. Don’t let them rope you into anything. And don’t feel you have to put anything in the collection plate, if they have one. You don’t have to tell anyone your ‘doctrinal position’ on matters like Hell, salvation or LGBTQ+ issues. If you feel judged at any point, get out and don’t go back. And never, ever ‘hang on in there’ for just a little bit longer hoping that things will improve, because they just won’t. It might also be an idea if you don’t get drawn in to a political discussion! If you have special talents, abilities or Autistic superpowers, don’t tell anyone. If you’re gay, definitely don’t tell anyone. If anyone asks you about anything sexual (and believe it or not, they might!), find the pastor and report them to him/her. And then leave. Yes, if you go alone, people might ask if you’re married. If you go with a member of the ‘opposite sex’ (and yes I’m aware that this is a ‘problematic’ concept nowadays!), keep your relationship status secret. Keep ’em guessing!Β  If you go with a member of the same sex, don’t entertain any questions about anything to do with your sexuality. And then report them to the pastor. Yes, there are sick Christians who do indeed ask questions on matters like that…how can that ever be considered normal?? But they do. And then they gossip about you.

Despite all this, I would say – and not even grudgingly! – that Christianity in general does produce an awful lot of good stuff. There’s social initiatives, there’s soup kitchens, there’s programmes to help the poor, there’s all the good things that Christianity has done down the ages like initiating national education, abolishing the slave trade, establishing hospitals, and many more things. There’s some really good worship music, that I still find a real blessing (I have a Christ for the Nations playlist playing as I type this, despite them being a highly legalistic organisation[22]) I get all that. And to be fair, I actually think that Christianity does more good than it does harm, for all its faults. But what I’m doing here is to give my readers a general feel for the sorts of nastiness that can befall someone who gets involved in any medium- to high-control, culty, church where certain of its members seem to think it’s ok to interfere in other members’ lives, and to castigate complete strangers just because they feel like it. And I hope I am also helping their potential victims to gain a real and healthy wariness when considering membership of such a group. The thing is, they will inculcate you gradually, so that you don’t notice what they’re doing. One little thing you don’t like here, but don’t call it out, leads to another one there, down the line, where you don’t call that out either and, little by little, they’ve got you. And, sooner or later, I guarantee that someone will be nasty to you; you can absolutely count on it. I think that my shock on being confronted by Joanna was so great because I hadn’t seen it for a long time; she assumed I’d still be susceptible to that kind of thing (because Sally had told her some of my former background, back before I discovered Grace) and she came in with that assumption. And of course it no longer washed with me, whereas maybe it would have done before. Actually, even then, I would likely have kicked back. I was never that badly inculcated. But it made me remember just how bad it is in Evangelical churches for this sort of thing, and reminded me of the freedom I really have by not being part of one. The Anglican church I was part of at the time didn’t have that sort of thing going on (dunno why!) and was only nominally Evangelical anyway (maybe that’s why!)

If you’re already a believer and thinking of joining such a church, or any church for that matter, be sensitive to what God is calling you do do, if anything, and don’t go beyond that. If, during the after-service coffee, someone wants to rope you into something, go and find someone else to talk to. Watch especially for the old lady in the tweed skirt; it’s her job to get complete strangers to bake cakes for after next week’s service 🀣 I kid you not; the first time we went into our ‘new’ Evangelical church in August 1995, there she was, and that was what she did!

Someone wrote a comment to me recently, saying, “Ain’t no hate like Christian love!”, and in a sense, he’s right. While I have a dear friend in Northern Ireland who is currently experiencing the real love of God expressed through a church congregation, it is a sad fact that such congregations are few and far between. Much more common are groups where the love of Christ has gone cold, and all that is left is the cold, shrivelled neutron star (what’s left of a powerful supergiant star, once its fuel runs out) of a church cinder that has had its day, it’s just going on to try and recapture memories of its past glories, and it’s about time it closed. It’s interesting that folks in such remnant congregations generally have only sin-policing and dislike of ‘worldly’ systems as their common/uniting factors, rather than uniting in love and letting that love leak out into their community. In a sense, they are closed systems with no new life. Maybe that’s why their fuel has run out.

For further help, let me say that there are many books out there on recovering from spiritual and religious abuse, some better than others. Search for them on Amazon or wherever, and read the reviews too. Some of the reviewers of a given book may say that although they found the book helpful, there were bits they didn’t like. As always, with anything like this, when you read a book, feel free to eat the meat and spit out the bones. Keep what is useful; discard what is not.

While this attack and the whole incident did shock me, and it rattled me, and gave me what we used to call ‘a bit of a clattering’, it did not kill my faith. Fortunately for me, my roots in Jesus are so deep that this did not damage my faith in the slightest; in fact it made it even stronger because it is in adversity that our faith is tested – not tested by God, Who doesn’t need to test it (He knows all about it already), but tested by the circumstances so that we can see for real how our faith stands in adverse circumstances. However, I did find that the unjust and irrational nature of the attack did offend my Autistic sense of justice; injustice really rankles with me, and I have tremendous difficulty coping with irrationality, particularly from humans. But my faith is based on actual, historical events that happened in my own life which have given me foundational security in my faith. Two of those events (there are more) are given here and here; I even have the dates and times for them, they had such a profound effect. Furthermore, because I am a ‘butterfly'(see above!), the best (or I suppose you could say ‘worst’) efforts of the caterpillars do not reach me on a faith level anymore, because I live my faith at a level they cannot even imagine. I don’t want that to sound boastful – although in some ways I’m not bothered if it does! – but this is the truth. My faith now works at a level that is so far beyond what it was like before my ‘rebirth’, that it bears little resemblance to it. In a way, my former faith was in two dimensions; my new life is in three dimensions. It is as different from my former life as a cube is to a square – the same basic shape, but with real substance. Or, in keeping with the theme of my blog, it’s like being able to fly, and work in three dimensions, as opposed to the two dimensions to which a mere ground-dweller is restricted. Such is the effect of Grace on a believer’s life. I would moderate that with the following two caveats, though:

β€œOnce you say β€˜higher level’ (regarding one’s level of spirituality), you appeal to the ego, and all the wrong instincts in people.”

-Fr. Richard Rohr

β€œWhen you begin to refer to where you’re at on your journey as a β€œdeeper place,” β€œhigher level,” β€œanother dimension,” or some other such thing, you create a space where pride, arrogance, and superiority can thrive in the name of spirituality. No, we’re journeying, and on this journey, mountains are laid low, and valleys exalted. Every place is an equal place for the sincere, it’s just that we are never all in the same place at the same time, and tend to assume wherever we’re at is the place to be.

β€œThe place to be is wherever you are”.

-Jeff Turner

I still fully agree with those two quotes. But how else can I express it, that which has become a reality to me? Except just to say that I am aware of no pride or superiority in my thinking; it’s just the way things are. I am stating facts, not putting myself on a pedestal. I suppose that at the end of the day, I am just expressing why the comments of the ‘caterpillars’ do not affect the life of the ‘butterfly’, and why they did not in this case (and they certainly can’t make me into a caterpillar again!) It’s that they don’t understand; indeed they cannot understand. Until you have seen Grace, you can’t understand it. But once you have seen it, you can see nothing else, it is that life-changing.

For those whose faith does get badly damaged, though, there is still good that can come of it. As you will have seen when reading this essay (assuming you haven’t fallen asleep, that is), you can learn so much, just as I have done. And setbacks in your faith walk can be made into strengths as you discard old beliefs and ‘faith positions’, and learn modified ones. This is a part of the ‘Stages of Faith‘, which few Christians know about, but which is what growth in Christ actually looks like. Take a look at my series on spiritual growth; while Christians do tell their congregants that growing into Christ is important, and indeed is one of the objectives of the Christian faith, most of them do not know what this actually looks like, much less do they teach it in any detail. And even by reading this piece, you have put your experiences into a wider context, which will definitely help you from this point onwards. Let Jesus lead you into Grace; read this blog and search for all the teaching on Grace. If you want to find it in the Bible, begin with Paul’s Letter to the Galatians and take it from there.

I hope this has been helpful.

Grace and Peace to you all.


Sorry there’s so many footnotes – more in fact than in any other piece I have written. It’s just that in this post, there are so many side issues that needed to be explained, but without breaking the flow of the main piece. Still, I suppose that’s what footnotes are for… πŸ˜‰

 

Footnotes

Footnotes
1 In this piece, I am describing a different ‘spiritual death’ than that espoused in Evangelical doctrine, which holds that ‘spiritual death’ is what happened to Adam and Eve in the garden. Although God ‘clearly said’ that when you eat the fruit, you will surely die (Gen 2:17), they obviously did not die, else humanity would not exist, if indeed they were the ancestors of all humanity. And so, they invented the term ‘spiritual death’ in order to make that ‘death’ that God warned about into something we can’t see, so that it can be neither proved nor disproved. Clever, eh? Just tack the word ‘spiritual’ on the front and that explains the whole thing without actually explaining anything. In this present case, though, ‘spiritual death’ means the death or extreme (death-like) damage inflicted on a person’s spirit by religious abuse.
2 I define Religion as being the concept of humans trying to please, appease or otherwise placate ‘the gods’ (including the God of the Bible) so that said humans will not be subject to those gods’ wrath, whatever form that wrath may take – volcanoes, famine, flood, going to Hell, or even just plain and simple ‘bad luck’. Usually, Religion involves performance of some kind: doing rituals, magic spells, sacrifices, obeying rules either written or tacitly inferred. Religious people are people who feel that this ‘doing stuff’ is necessary in order for them to be able to approach God/the gods. Personally, I think that’s just a modern form of superstition.
3 Because I am irrepressible, though, I’m still going to sprinkle a lot of my usual low-key humour through this piece 😜
4 The other thing, of course, is that if their target is not a ‘Christian’, nor indeed anyone else who is expected to just behave themselves, and lie back and take such abuse, then their intended victim will likely just tell them to go and get stuffed. Some more liberated Christians might even do the same, myself included. This suggests to me that these abusers only go for the easier targets; those who will not bite back for fear of appearing ‘less Christian’ to others around them. This makes the abusers also bullies, then, in that they are attacking people they see as weak. Can’t be doing with bullies, not at all.
5 Not long after Fiona’s funeral, and just as our Vicar, Mark, moved on to pastures new, I stopped going to the church. There was no animosity, nor did I leave under a cloud; indeed, I am still friends with those dear people. But our house group had ‘ceased trading’ (the leaders felt they were not called to lead it any more) and I just felt that this was the end of that particular season in my life. As my regular readers will know, I do what I see the Father doing (John 5:19) and this gentle breakaway was indeed what He was doing at the time. So I went with it.
6 Not her real name of course; names have been changed to protect yada yada yada and all that
7 Apart from me learning that Evangelicalism hadn’t changed at all in all the time I had been ‘out’, and the worst parts of it were just as bad as ever, as I was to discover all too soon – in spades!
8 Being a Christian conference, the food was most likely provided by the lowest bidder. People familiar with the ‘generosity’ of Christian organisations will know exactly what I’m talking about. Legend has it that when a ‘sinner’ goes to Hell, they will have to pay for their own handbasket because there’s no way the church will cough up for it πŸ˜‰
9 Edd said later that he was convinced that God didn’t need anyone’s faith to help Him when He made everything!
10 As played by the late genius comedians Les Dawson and Roy Barraclough.
11 Yeah right. My Facebook profile is visible only to my actual FB friends, so no-one else would have seen the comment outside of that circle anyway
12 Like being Autistic is an illness that needs to be cured!!
13 At least, maybe not after she reads this, if she ever sees it. ‘Sally’, if you want to talk about it, you know where I am!
14 That is, my ‘dark night’ followed by my ‘rebirth’
15 Keeping short accounts with God is a peculiarly Evangelical concept (although it has likely been pirated by other denominations too; that’s what religion does) that assumes that every. single. ‘sin’. has to be confessed, individually and specifically, in order for that ‘sin’ to be forgiven. The concept is based on a mis-reading, misinterpretation and/or misapplication of the verse in 1 John 1:9, which says that “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness”. As always with this sort of thing, the concept is, and has been, passed down from generation to generation of Christians without anyone (in that group at least) questioning it or challenging it. They just believe it because they’ve been told it. And it stands in complete contradiction to the other verse in Heb 8:12, which quotes Jer 31:34, which says, “For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more”. When you really think about it, their ‘short accounts’ concept means that just. one. ‘sin’. in the final second of your life means that you will not be forgiven, because you won’t have had chance to ‘confess’ that ‘sin’. So, say you see someone point a pistol at you and in your mind you think ‘You b@stard!’, then that’s it. You used that ‘cuss word’, even though it was only in your head! You never got the chance to ask for forgiveness. You’re toast. What a stupid concept that is!
16 Or even that they don’t want to argue or get angry, because then they would definitely be ‘seen as’ being in the wrong, and they’d be judged and criticised for that too; for simply defending themselves vehemently, and which the abuser has jolly well asked for. In other words, Christians are, or want to be seen as, ‘too nice’ to bite back. This is a tactic which many abusers rely on to avert any comback. And that’s absolutely disgusting.
17 This clearly demonstrates that, while they expect others to be answerable to them, they do not feel answerable to others!
18 If I use the first-person pronoun euphemism ‘one’ any more, I’m going to start sounding like a member of the Royal Family, so I apologise.
19 The synthesiser disappeared sometime after that; in fact it was at this up-country conference that I heard (from the lady who had taken over from me in the Musical Director’s role in the church) that it had disappeared. Stolen, then!
20 I don’t really care whether that spirit is one of a type of actual ontological beings, or whether it’s simply the way the human mind works when damaged by Religion (I won’t go into details on that) –Β  still the ‘manifestation’ is the same.
21 See the fourth bullet point in my article here for more on what a ‘Religious spirit’ looks like
22 I have a friend who was expelled from Christ for the Nations because of a certain ‘sin’ he was struggling with. He was expelled because he couldn’t defeat it; all he would have had to do would have been to keep quiet about it, and he’d have been fine. God knew his heart anyway. But, because of his honesty, they penalised him. That’s disgraceful.

Be like Chad

I have noticed a phenomenon which I find quite amusing, and also a bit unsettling, if I’m honest.

When Christians meet other Christians that they don’t know, there immediately follows a period of religious butt-sniffing, like dogs do when they meet.

The idea for each person is to categorise the other people into the person’s self-designed pigeonholes, so that they know where they stand. Are you a Protestant, are you a Baptist, are you Like Me, and for some, sadly, there’s even the attitude of ‘are there things that you disagree with me on, so that I must settle those differences by telling you how wrong you are, before we can ever get along?’ In short, they are generating ‘labels’.

But I’m not having any of that.

This is where listening more than talking comes in. I don’t declare my own definitions openly; they are mine and mine alone. In any case, I am Autistic and the standard pigeonholes do not apply to me anyway, because I am wired differently. And no, I am not using Autism as a label in its own right, because it has been my experience that even amongst Autistic people, they are all wired differently from each other. There is no ‘standard definition’ of an Autistic person and as such we are all different; all equally unpredictable.

It’s funny; I met a Christian man about 24 years ago who, when we did the religious butt-sniffing thing on him (I was different then!), he just stayed silent.

He ‘went’ to a particular church but it seemed like he was only loosely attached.

But a more Christlike man I have never met. He never declared himself; never showed any affiliation other than to Jesus.

Chad was his name.

I want to be like Chad.

Grateful

The more I look, the more I am grateful for the amazing Grace of God in my early Christian walk.

I was not pulled in to the Kingdom by the threat of Hell, nor by some street preacher asking where I would go if I died tonight, nor anything like that. What pulled me in was a combination of the music, a definite calling which was what I’d been looking for all those years – I virtually felt God hoick me to my feet and out to the front! – followed by some very specific points where God told me in no uncertain terms how He felt about me. In short, I was brought in by the love of God and the sensation of His Presence. I bless God for that.

And now, looking back at my life then (we’re talking July 1980 onwards), I see all the points where God steered me in my life, where He provided for me, and where He made His presence felt in order to guide me and assure me of His Presence. He helped me never really believe in Hell, although I paid ‘lip service’ to it. He helped me to question the beliefs of others in my church/cult, albeit in my head and not overtly. He made sure that I had an overriding sense of His Presence most of the time, except maybe for those times I termed a ‘Divine Sulk’, when I couldn’t feel His presence; the sort of time where Job’s Comforter Christians tell you you are ‘harbouring’ some ‘secret sin’ or some other such rubbish. Lollz.

So now, when I just happened to look up one of the ‘famous local preachers’ (let’s call him ‘Phil’) in what was then my area (north Leeds) and see that he’s still stuck in the same hellfire and brimstone, judgmental of strangers, still being lickspittled by others of a similar ilk, I am even more thankful – because I never went down that path. Not so much as ‘there but for the Grace of God go I’; more of a ‘I never believed what he used to puke out anyway’. He always made me uncomfortable – which of course in those days was seen as a ‘good thing’. I’m not saying he’s a kiddie-fiddler or anything; just that something about the ‘gospel’ he preached didn’t sit well with me.

I am so glad that God got me out of that area, both spiritually and physically (because if I hadn’t moved to Devon I’d likely still be rotting in that church environment) and gave me a new start. Not long after I arrived in the South-West, I had my ‘Aha!!’ moment on Grace, which led me to fifteen years of the Dark Night of the Soul, which some might think of as a ‘deconstruction’ – although it wasn’t really that per se. Emerging from that, just as a butterfly from its chrysalis, I realised that once the church junk was stripped away along with people like Phil and his beliefs and vomiting, the Gospel was actually more or less exactly what I’d known all along that it should be.

Unfortunately, this twisting procedure in new believers is standard practice. Once a new believer is snatched up from their cradle and incarcerated/incorporated into a local church, the purity of their initial encounter with God is covered up and layered over with church kopros. Effectively, the initial encounter is taken away as it struggles for air under all that rubbish and is eventually suppressed. Only a mighty work of God, which in my case was an effortless fifteen years out of church, can shift that and restore a believer to their first love.

But, because my background is different from everyone else’s, everyone else’s story will be different from mine. We all have different attitudes, biases and wounds that will need to be changed, surgically removed and healed in that Dark Night, and afterwards too. But never again will that believer want to return to that former cage. Once you have seen it from the outside, you realise what it really is, and you’ll appreciate your freedom all the more.

My chains (of legalism) fell off in 1999, and after the fifteen years, I began openly walking with God again what will be ten years ago in a couple of weeks. February 2014 was when all that I had learned in my Dark Night became the key to my new freedom.

And God has held my hand the whole way.

No wonder I’m grateful!

Taking a Break

Just a quick post to let my readers know that I will probably not be posting quite as regularly over the next few weeks, if at all.

I am going to be taking a bit of a break, for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, I see this as what Father is doing with me at the moment; He’s teaching me in the quiet of my heart and, like the Teacher in Matthew 13:52, I will be learning new things and be reminded of old things from the storehouse of my heart.

Can I encourage my readers maybe to do the same – if that’s what you feel Father is calling you to do – and revisit, in this New Year, the foundations, the truths and your experiences of Him that form the basis of your faith. Cast off the shackles of men’s expectations, sit at Jesus’s feet, and listen. That’s what I am going to be doing.

Secondly, I am currently suffering from a long-term illness (not life-threatening!) that is, amongst other things, preventing me from thinking clearly, and from doing justice to the subject matter with which I Iove to bless my readers. That also means that flying is off the table for me at present due to the illness, and that’s a real bummer as this time of year is the heart of the night flying season – I love night flying so much – and I was really looking forward to flying G-VIZZ at night this year. Well, hey-ho πŸ™‚

So let me just leave you with these exhortations: Stay close to Jesus; carry His burden and no-one else’s; and remember there’s nothing at all that you can do, or fail to do, that can change how God feels towards you.

Grace and Peace to you πŸ˜€

Ashes

I just wanted to make a plug for my daughter’s new EP that’s just been released today.

It’s a six-track EP/album called ‘Ashes’ and it’s taken her more than a year to create the songs on it. All proceeds go to our local Hospice, Rowcroft Hospice, where Ellie’s Mum was looked after for her last few days on this earth.

It’s priced very reasonably at Β£3.54 on Amazon, and I am sure it will be on other countries’ Amazon sites too. It’s also avaliable on streaming services like Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon Music; just search ‘Ellie Rosie’ to find the links to this and all her other published music.

Click the image below to go to the Amazon UK sales page, where you can also listen to some short preview clips from the tracks on the EP. Ellie is a very talented young lady with a superb singing voice and excellent songwriting skills; even the short clips will send shivers down your spine πŸ™‚

Merry’s Legacy

Back in 2017, I posted a very popular piece entitled ‘Do Animals Go To Heaven?‘, and a shorter version of it was also republished on the ‘Unfundamentalists’ blog under the title ‘Do Our Pets Go To Heaven?

I would think it likely that most people are familiar with the grief and loss that we feel when a well-beloved pet dies, and so I reckon the piece was so popular because so many people could identify with it, and hopefully many were helped by it too. The essay was particularly well-received on the Unfundamentalists site (possibly because more people saw it), and the ensuing discussion was very touching as I got some lovely comments from people who had been blessed and encouraged by it. Encouragement is what I do, so I was really pleased to see one comment in particular, which I will quote here:

“I lost my best friend, Strudel (German Shepherd), to cancer on Sunday. He was the best person I have ever known, and my heart is broken. Then, this blog showed up in my email box, and I am so grateful to for the comfort it has given me. I write this with tears in my eyes, but I know that he is waiting for me with Jesus in heaven, enjoying plenty of his favorite food (hot dog buns)”

That comment brings tears to my eyes too, even now, years later πŸ™‚

After that comment, the discussion sadly degenerated rather rapidly into some pretty dull theological stuff, which I won’t share here. There are people who, because of their limited theology, believe that pets can’t be in Heaven. They would rather their theology remains intact – which the idea doesn’t really threaten, as animal ‘sin’ is not really an issue – than believe that even they will see their beloved pets again – or that anyone else will see theirs, either. Sad, sad people, without much hope for what Heaven will be like (far, far, better than anything we can imagine!), and who want to drag others down into that mire too. And that’s tragic.

But still the raw emotion of that comment about Strudel demonstrated the point of what my essay was aiming at. The encouragement of the ‘silent listeners‘ who don’t get caught up in pointless discussion, who don’t try to argue others out of the real hope they have in the interests of ‘following Scripture’ (whatever happened to ‘following Jesus’?), but who are simply blessed by the things they read that are a million miles away from the harsh, dogmatic and ungentle things that are written on so many faith blogs. That encouragement is what this stuff is all about.

And so, I will share today a couple of things that have really blessed me, in the hope that they will bless you too, my gentle readers.

We begin with the sadness of loss. Gutted to say that, a couple of weeks ago, we lost Merry, who was the oldest of our pet rats.[1] That’s Merry in the header picture for this blog post.

Initially, Merry was a bit of a sad case when we first adopted him. We had four rats already (they were about a year old), and I was in a pet shop buying food and other accessories for them. When in the shop, I always make a habit of going to look at the baby rats (because they are so cute), and there in this cage all by himself was this beautiful white Dumbo rat.[2] And so we rescued him from being condemned to a life of loneliness and isolation, and took him home with us.[3] After displaying some initial behavioural problems, he eventually settled in just fine, after neutering and a caravan holiday (yes we take the rats in the caravan with us), and he turned out to be the sweetest, most lovable little fella you could ever want to meet.

But, like so many rats, he eventually succumbed to a respiratory problem[4] and we had to make the hard decision to have him put to sleep. It was made a little easier because, even as we had him in the car with us waiting outside the vets, we could see him deteriorating: cyanosis (going blue) of the lips, nose and tongue, and no circulation in the ears. It was definitely his time, and having him put to sleep was the compassionate thing to do, primarily because dying of respiratory distress is not a good way to go. Rats only live for two to three years, and Merry was just over two years old, but still, to lose that lovely little character with all his funny habits and his gentle and wise nature – it was terrible.

Merry dozing in his pod

I mentioned in the previous ‘pets/heaven’ essay that my late wife Fiona had really clear and vivid visions from God that brought real comfort to her in times of emotional anguish.

Well, I too had one of Merry after he died. I saw him in Fiona’s hands, having scrambled along her forearms, and sniffing at the ‘camera’ (you know, the dream’s ‘viewpoint’) and Fiona was saying “Where’s your Grandpa?” (that’s me!)[5]. Building once again on my firm belief that our pets go with us into the afterlife, I was greatly encouraged by that vision and I shared it with my daughter too, and it encouraged her.

Pippin

Looking back a couple of years, there was an occasion (when we had four rats) and we went on a caravan holiday (before we’d worked out how to take them with us on a regular basis), and we asked our lovely, kindly neighbours to come in and feed the rats for us in our absence. On our return, the rats went absolutely nuts when they welcomed us back. They came charging over towards us and gave us a right royal welcome, just like if you’d been away from home for a fair while and your dog welcomed you back.

And this brings me to Merry’s Legacy. That vision I had, and like I said above, building on my belief that our pets will be with us in the ‘hereafter’, led me to thinking about what that will be like when we arrive. I mean, I would have liked to have thought that Jesus would be the first to welcome me, followed closely by Fiona. But now I’m not so sure. If I have any dog owners reading this, how often have you noticed your dog hold back behind other humans when he comes to welcome you as you get home from work? It’s never happened once, in my experience. The dogs have always got there first in their enthusiasm and exuberance in welcoming home the humans that they love.

Do you see where I’m going with this? What if the first of our friends to welcome us into Heaven are our pets? What if the dogs come charging ahead and bowl me over with their enthusiastic welcome? How can they not do that; they are dogs! With the humans laughing at their antics, but still left well behind them? So, my dogs Melody, Jasper, Katie, Poppy, Bruno and Zeus. No doubt the cats, Daisy and Tigger, will be off doing their own thing and just being cats. And as for the rats: Zig, Zag, Honey, Rosie, Pepper, Sammy, Toby, Wally, Finn, Obi, Pippin, Merry (Peter and Raven are still with us) – these guys will all be right there and trying to get to me first. Even the chickens, and if you’ve ever seen a flock of chickens charging enthusiastically towards you to see what you’ve got for them, you’ll know what I mean πŸ˜€ What a lovely picture that is!

My rat Pepper

All these individual, unique characters – people – in their own right, and precious and beloved by us and by God because of that.

So, with all that competition, maybe Jesus and Fiona might not get to me first, then? πŸ˜‰

The amazing Sammy. This little guy knew how to do tricks.

You see, I think Heaven is going to be so full of wonderful surprises: things we thought we had lost forever; people we thought we’d never see again; pets who were so much part of our lives. And the reunion is going to be spectacular! Maybe I have even created a spoiler today; I mean who’d have thought that their pets would not only be there in Heaven, but that they would be the first to welcome us? But I think we can be sure that Heaven will be immeasurably greater than any spoiler I can give πŸ™‚

Wally in the caravan. He’s only a baby here, but he grew into the wisest rat I have ever known. His wisdom and intelligence were absolutely phenomenal.

Another one of Wally

I often say that God’s two greatest mistakes were a) putting nerves in teeth, and b) giving our pets such short lifespans. Regarding the pet lifespans, I am sure that there’s a deep reason for it, which I kinda have some inkling of (in fact I am sharing some of the wisdom in this essay) and which God reveals in small amounts as we walk with Him, just as He does with all of Life’s Big Questions. I trust Him fully, I know I’ll understand it all one day. and that’s all good. (But the nerves in teeth thing, well no, just no πŸ˜‰ )

But still, our pets are amazing animals, who in their own way demonstrate to us God’s love and care. When we get to Heaven, I’m sure that we will more fully understand what their function and role has been for us in this life. They are God’s ministers to us – which is probably why cults ban their members from having them. Can’t have the real God showing up, now can we? πŸ˜‰ And His ministry through these incredible animals – dogs, rats, cats, chickens – is real and tangible. The healing, unconditional love and acceptance that they display mirrors closely those same characteristics in our healing, loving and accepting Heavenly Father. And why not? Is not God capable of showing His character through all His Creation?

Raven. He’s really inquisitive, very fast, super-affectionate and highly intelligent.

 

This is Peter; he’s very affectionate but also very shy.

Merry’s Legacy has been to show me just what these creatures do for us and how much they enrich our lives; how much they minister God to us. And it’s also shown me a good bit more of what my welcome into Heaven will be like. And I have Merry to thank for that.

The pain of the loss of our dear ones – humans and animals alike – will be nothing when compared to the joy of our reunion with them. Remember that divine ‘judgment’ means that all that was wrong will be put right; all hurts will be healed; everything that ever caused us tears of pain and sadness will become just a dim memory. Now that’s Good News! This is the Gospel! If it doesn’t lead you to believe that everything – everything! – will turn out right in the end, then it isn’t the real Gospel, because nothing other than that, as a final result, will even come close to being God’s best for us. Would God stop at anything short of absolute perfection, when it comes to our eternal home?

Go figure.

Finally, I would say that one of the things that we do when saying goodbye to our pets is that we thank them. We thank them for all the love and heartfelt presence they have ministered to us for the short time we had them, and for all the input they have had into our lives. So, I say thank you, Merry, for all you’ve been to us, your family; all you’ve done for us; and all you’ve taught us about selflessness, self-giving, tolerance and gentleness. And I will see you again soon.

Grace and peace to you all

Footnotes

Footnotes
1 Before anyone runs away, please let me say a word in favour of rats as pets! Rats get a really bad press in the public eye; they are seen as dirty, disease-carrying, vicious and bitey creatures with weird tails, and they give a lot of people the shivers. That, and they are regularly used for the ‘Yeuch!’ factor in game shows such as ‘I’m a celebrity, get me out of here!‘ where lots of (tame!) rats are released into some sort of coffin or box along with the contestant. But in actuality, even wild rats are neither dirty (they hate being dirty and wash themselves at every opportunity), and nor are they vicious; they would much rather simply be left alone. And pet rats, or ‘fancy rats’, are different again from wild rats. In addition to having some differences in the ways their bodies work, they too are clean, and are also beautiful, affectionate, gentle, empathetic, intelligent, caring animals with a very high emotional intelligence and, in some cases, a level of real wisdom that I have not seen very often in humans. They all have individual personalities and they really do make great pets. In fact, I know people for whom rats were recommended as ‘assistance animals’ to help with mental illness issues.
2 Dumbo rats have larger, rounder ears which are situated further down the sides of their heads than the usual ear position. ‘Top-eared’ rats are the ‘usual’ ear pattern for rats. Dumbos, however, are bred specifically to make them more ‘cute’ and appealing to humans, essentially so they sell better. It’s actually been quite hard to find top-eared rats in pet shops recently! Picture shows two baby rats (‘kittens’) of about ten weeks old; the guy on the left is a top-eared rat whereas the little rascal on the right is a Dumbo.http://www.flyinginthespirit.cuttys.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/dumbo-and-top-eared-300x158.jpg 300w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 699px) 100vw, 699px" />

The top-eared fellow’s ears will look smaller and better-proportioned once he’s grown up a bit; don’t forget these are babies.

3 It strongly irks me when pet shops will sell a single rat all by itself by removing it from its group, or when they leave a single rat in its sales cage when all its brothers/sisters have been sold. The isolated rat (sold or unsold) will be bewildered and heartbroken, wondering what they have done wrong, feeling lost and in complete despair. Rats are pack animals; they need to be in groups of at least two, and preferably more. And that isolation was what had happened to poor Merry. Sure, a rat will enjoy human company, but having a proper ‘mischief’ (the name for a social group of rats), will be far more beneficial.
4 Rats tend to suffer from two major health problems: tumours and respiratory issues
5 Because the rats belong to my daughter, their ‘mummy’, I of course am ‘Grandpa’

Worship to Go

This entry is part 38 of 38 in the series Fiona

A few evenings ago, while driving in my car, I had the most precious and profound worship time, and I thought I would share it with my readers because it illustrates the raw power of real worship, and its ability to change the hearts of those worshipping. This was a very special worship experience for me, and although it will probably not have the same effect on other people, I wanted to share it also because I want to try and show just what happens when the Spirit orchestrates worship – even on an electronic mp3 player – for the building-up of the heart of the believer.[1] Plus of course it will probably bless my readers anyway πŸ˜€ For me, Her ‘playlist’, and the order in which the songs appeared on my player, were a deliberate setup in order to maximise the blessing for me. And it was absolutely wonderful! So I am sharing the story, the individual tracks, and (later on) the tracks all spliced into a single continuous piece in order hopefully to let you experience something of the profound time I had the other evening, and to hear how all the tracks flow together. This is worship leading at its best; thank You, Holy Spirit!

So, on this particular evening, I was driving up to Exeter (no, not to go flying! πŸ˜‰ ) and, as is my usual custom, I had some worship music playing. I’ve done this for years, just so long as there’s no-one else in the car that the music will annoy πŸ˜€

Well, my iPod was set to random play, and the first song to come up was ‘Jesus we enthrone You’, segued[2] into ‘Ascribe Greatness’, from the Dales ’82 tape ‘Praise God in His Sanctuary’. These songs, and the way in which the ‘worship session’ went, are the reasons why I have included this piece in my series about my lovely late wife Fiona. These two songs, especially, held great meaning for us in the early part of our lives together and, on this particular day, they led to a tremendous time of healing for me, right there in the car.

Not long after we’d first begun dating, in 1982, we went to several worship evenings together at the Dales Bible Week in Harrogate. These two songs therefore have for me a lot of deep meaning and personal identification, and they bring back many happy memories of those days. In particular, I found that on this journey they actually recreated, in small measure, the feelings I had when we were first dating.

It was Fiona’s first Bible week, and she loved it; the worship especially. Fiona always had the heart of a worshipper, and those were the days where she first experienced what it was like to worship in a huge congregation of 8,000-plus people, using new and exuberant songs like these.

Lyrics are here, in case you want to join in[3]

The sound of the ladies’ voices, when they sing without the men, sounds very much like Fiona’s voice, and whenever I listen to these Dales ’82 songs, I always fancy I can hear her voice. Of course, that’s highly unlikely, given that there will have been about 4,000 ladies singing there each night, but, well, because we were there for most of the meetings that week, we are likely on the recording! Anyway, we learned these songs at Dales, and brought them back to our home congregation at Guiseley Baptist Church. We had them both at our wedding, and Fiona came in to the tune of Ascribe Greatness. Nearly thirty-three years later, we also sang it at Fiona’s funeral.

At this point, then, gratitude and worship were flowing, and the iPod segued into the perfect intro of Terry MacAlmon’s ‘Worship Interlude‘. Even the key transition was seamless, and Terry’s first words on the track, ‘Thank You Lord’, were just what I was feeling: an immense gratitude for Fiona’s life and for all the great times we’d had together. Time for me to sing in my Spirit language, because words were simply not enough to express what I was feeling[4].

The song followed into a mild key-change and then, to my complete amazement, into one of the most healing songs I have ever heard – and in the key that the (unconnected) Worship Interlude had just changed into. Honestly, the transition was simply seamless. But this song? It was My God and King, by Shauna Chanda, accompanied by Terry MacAlmon, and this particular piece holds so much meaning for me, because it was involved in the healing of deep hurts not long after I lost Fiona. Can you see how perfectly these songs were ‘set up’ for me? πŸ˜€

Lyrics[5]

Wow. Just, wow. And as you can imagine, at this point I was well aware that the Spirit was orchestrating the randomisation on the iPod!

Next, along came a Vineyard song from our early days as worship leaders and my being Director of Music at my church – again, perfectly seamless with regards to the key (stayed in the same key) – I worship You (I give You all the Honor) by Carl Tuttle:

Lyrics[6]

For so much of our lives together, especially when we lived in Yorkshire, we spent a lot of time living ‘on the breadline’, where we often had to search the house for the last two coins needed to buy a loaf of bread or whatever it was we needed. And I have to say that God has never seen us go short; He has always provided for all our needs – physical, emotional, spiritual. He’s been faithful (a God of faithfulness, as we have already seen above), and this song was the next up – the classic hymn ‘Great is Thy faithfulness‘, and this one is the Hosanna Music version:

Lyrics [7]

…and then leading into the very next song, Brian Doerksen’s Faithful One, another early-90’s Vineyard song which I introduced and led at my old Church in Leeds:

Lyrics[8]

And then, to finish, and perfectly timed as I was reaching my destination, my favourite worship song of all time, When I look into Your Holiness, in its original form (to me, at any rate), from the Harvestime tape ‘Let Your Spirit Rise‘, and preceded, as on the tape, with the classic song ‘As the Deer’. This was how I learned these songs, and this tape, again, was pivotal in my early development as a worship leader, and with Fiona by my side. We used to play this tape all the time when we were decorating our first house πŸ™‚

Lyrics[9]

Well, I mean wow. What an amazing song set, and so well put together with transitions, keys, relevance and dynamics. It was obviously set up to minister healing in me from more of the damage I took when I lost Fiona – and it worked. I arrived at my destination feeling more whole than I have in a long time, and refreshed by the Presence of God[10]. And that night, I dreamed about her again, with yet another healing dream πŸ™‚ This, again, is all part of the healing, which is progressively and each time bringing deeper and deeper wholeness to my shattered soul, to levels I can only guess at. I am definitely in the hands of the Master Physician, and the Spirit is doing Her work through the worship, orchestrated as only She can do it.

Here, for your edification, is the entire set, combined as a single track, with all the transitions left in place just as they were that evening.

While it isn’t possible, nor indeed desirable, to try to recreate the worship experience I had, still I wanted to share the set with you because, at the very least, it shows just how songs can be woven together to produce a remarkably relevant worship experience. And, anyway, this is great music! I hope it blesses you πŸ˜€

Grace and Peace to you

Footnotes

Footnotes
1 Remember that the Spirit is not ‘caught on tape’ as such, but recordings of worship music have the ability to stir up the spirit of worship in the believer. The same Spirit that was present in those worship meetings is right there with you, right now.
2 A segue (pronounced ‘segway’) is when one song flows into another
3 Jesus, we enthrone You
We proclaim You our King
Standing here in the midst of us
We raise You up with our praise
And as we worship, build Your throne
And as we worship, build Your throne
And as we worship, build Your throne
Come Lord Jesus, and take Your place

Ascribe greatness to our God, the Rock
His work is perfect, and all His ways are just
Ascribe greatness to our God, the Rock
His work is perfect, and all His ways are just
A God of faithfulness, and without injustice
Good and upright is He
A God of faithfulness, and without injustice
Good and upright is He

4 You may rightly be wondering what was happening to my driving while all this was going on! Well, one of the things about worship in the Spirit isΒ  that it takes up very little of my ‘mental resources’; worship is so much of a way of life for me that I find it completely effortless. Sure, there are times when I need to stop singing and give it more concentration, but even then, even if I am only listening and not joining in the singing, still the presence of God burns right there in my heart while I negotiate a roundabout or complex junction or whatever.
5 My God and King
To You alone I sing
You’re the face I seek
For all eternity

My God and King
To You alone I sing
You’re the face I seek
For all eternity

You’d be my dream come true
Just to be with You
How I’d see brand new
With eyes for only You

My God and King
Through the storm I sing
Covered by Your wing
This song of love I bring

You’d be my dream come true
Just to be with You
How I’d see brand new
With eyes for only You

You’d be my dream come true
Just to be with You
How I’d see brand new
With eyes for only You

You are my dream come true
Just to be with You
Now I see brand new
With eyes for only You

With eyes for only You

With eyes for only You

I have eyes for only You

6 I give you all the honour
And praise that’s due Your name
For You are the King of glory
The Creator of all things

And I worship You
I give my life to You
I fall down on my knees
Yes, I worship You
I give my life to You
I fall down on my knees

As Your Spirit moves upon me now
You meet my deepest need
And I lift my hands up to Your throne
Your mercy I’ve received

You have broken chains that bound me
You’ve set this captive free
I will lift my voice to praise Your name
For all eternity

7 (The arrangement is slightly different in that they do a slightly different mashup of the first two verses and refrains. Works for me)

Great is thy faithfulness, O God my Father;
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;
As Thou hast been, Thou forever shall be.

Great is thy faithfulness!
Great is thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see:
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided–
Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide,
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

8 Faithful One, so unchanging
Ageless One, You’re my Rock of peace
Lord of all I depend on You
I call out to You
Again and again
I call out to You
Again and again

You are my Rock in times of trouble
You lift me up when I fall down
All through the storm, Your love is the anchor
My hope is in You alone

9 As the deer panteth for the water
So my soul longeth after Thee
You alone are my heart’s desire
And I long to worship Thee

You alone are my strength, my shield
To You alone may my spirit yield
You alone are my heart’s desire
And I long to worship You

 

When I look into Your Holiness
When I gaze into Your loveliness
When all things that surround become shadows in the light of You
When I’ve found the joy of reaching Your Heart
When my will becomes enthroned in Your Love
When all things that surround become shadows in the light of You

I worship You, I worship You
The reason I live is to worship You
I worship You, I worship You
The reason I live is to worship You

10 My friends that I was meeting up with maybe noticed the radiance; I really don’t know!

A Box of Frozen Chickens

I think I’ve said this before, but some of my favourite blog posts have been inspired by interesting exchanges on social media, especially Facebook. Yes, despite my recent rants, there are still interesting posts on there, in addition to the usual bunch of grey Religious people doing their routine moaning. In particular, the humour one finds on the Internet is far and away my favourite aspect of the entire marvellous phenomenon (that phenomenon being the Internet). So, I wanted to share this particular exchange and the funny, bantering discussion that followed. It’s quite dry and tongue-in-cheek geeky banter, but if it makes you laugh, job done. If it doesn’t, fair enough and I am sure there’ll be something out there that you will find funny.

So, in this very memorable exchange from last week, there was a question about some damage that an airliner had suffered in a collision with a bird. Here’s the meme that prompted the discussion:

My two friends Bill and Philip commented, and it kinda went from there:

Bill: What kind of bird was it? Wanna make sure I dont hit it with my truck!

Philip: I think it’s a dead kinda bird now…
Don’t know, actually. But it musta been a decent size…A frozen chicken, possibly?

Bill: Box of frozen maybe?

Philip: It could have been, Bill…I’d like to know the aerodynamic possibilities of a box of frozen chickens at cruising altitude, though…Anthony, you may be able to enlighten us…

Bill: I would very much like to hear his analysis.

Philip: Bill, knowing Anthony, he will give us a comprehensive and detailed synopsis.

Me: Very well, gentlemen. I’ll see what I can do.

The aerodynamic properties of a box of frozen chickens at 38,000ft would be very easily defined. Of the four forces of flight: Lift, Drag, Thrust and Weight, only weight and drag would be in operation due to the absence of any lift generating devices (such as wings) and the lack of an engine (producing thrust). Weight would accelerate the box downwards until the deceleration caused by the drag forces, operating in direct opposition to the acceleration caused by the weight, cancelled out the downward acceleration. At this point, the box would attain a stable downwards velocity which is known as ‘terminal velocity’, which brings it back to something that most of us have heard of, even if only because it is the title of various eponymous movies. The box would maintain that velocity – which would of course vary with air density and temperature – right until it made what is technically known as a big splat.

The fact that they were chickens in the box would have no bearing on the matter because a) chickens are virtually flightless; b) the chickens are frozen (and therefore dead) and c) they are in a box. Fortunately for the chickens, the fact that they are already dead means that the outcome of the analysis, for them at least, is irrelevant.

In short, the aerodynamic properties can therefore be summed up as being very similar to those of a safe, or even a piano. It would not be correct to assert that the aerodynamic properties are similar to an anvil, however, because that would be more streamlined, at least at the pointy end. But even an anvil would still have its own terminal velocity.

I trust this answers your questions.

Philip: It answers them perfectly! I thank you.
The only question that remains, is; how did the box of frozen chickens, travelling perfectly naturally at their terminal velocity, collide with the front of the airliner? I propose that there’s something quite fishy, here…Or, chickeny…

Me: No, it’s actually quite a simple explanation. Because air accident investigators always blame the aircrew, it follows that in fact it was the airliner that collided with the box, not the other way round.

Philip: Of course! That clears things up. It’s the aircrew’s fault. Lol…

 

And at this point, we left it. I so love Internet humour, and the banter of intelligent people πŸ™‚

 

Peace and Grace to you πŸ˜€

Sportavia-PΓΌtzer RS 180 Sportsman

This entry is part 22 of 22 in the series Beautiful Destroyers

Well, it’s been a looong time – more than a year, actually – since I last published a piece in the series ‘Beautiful Destroyers: my articles about military aircraft and how beautiful they often are, despite their sometimes dark roles. Please accept my apologies for the long gap between posts in this series.

I did say that I would also be featuring civilian aircraft too, and today’s aircraft is such a one. And I’m sure you’ll love it.

So, here is the Sportavia-PΓΌtzer RS-180 Sportsman.

The RS-180 is a little-known aeroplane designed by legendary French aircraft designer RenΓ© Fournier. Fournier also designed the Fournier RF-6/Slingsby T-67 Firefly (which was used as a basic flying trainer for the RAF and the Army, the Royal Navy and the Royal Marines) and a series of motor-gliders including the Fournier RF-4 and RF-5, all of which aircraft are well-known in General Aviation circles.

A four-seat, low-wing, single-engined monoplane, the RS-180 features a large bubble canopy with excellent – in fact I would say unparalleled – visibility, easy handling, and docile flight characteristics.

In this article, I will be writing pretty well exclusively about the aircraft in the photo above, G-VIZZ. It is an unbelievable fact that there were only eighteen aircraft of this type ever built, and G-VIZZ (‘Zulu-Zulu’) is the sole British-registered example. If you see an RS-180 flying over you somewhere in the UK, it will most likely be G-VIZZ. So, give us a wave πŸ˜‰

Here she is standing on the taxiway in front of her hangar at Exeter Airport in Devon, UK, on a sunny morning in May 2020. Most of the pictures on today’s blog post were taken on that day, and most of them are also clickable to zoom in for additional detail.

From a military history point of view, and indeed from a ‘Beautiful Destroyers’ point of view, the building we use for VIZZ’s hangar is very interesting. It was originally built to be the gun butts, where the guns of the Spitfires that were based at Exeter in WWII could be set up safely. In other words, the ‘hangar’ was originally designed to be a giant bullet catcher. Here is a wartime photo of a Spitfire Mk.V having its guns calibrated, and the building is visible on the right of the photo:

Now, I am very fortunate to be a member of the Owners’ Group for G-VIZZ, which means I get to fly her as often as I can afford (which is not as often as I’d like!) and because there are only a few of us, it means she is almost always available. Group members can borrow her for just simple flights, or for a weekend away, for touring, holidays, landaways and all sorts of things like that; basically she is our aeroplane and we can do what we like with her. Yes, that means that essentially I own an aeroplane. Sometimes I find that simply unbelievable πŸ˜‰ But it also means that I get to write this piece from an owner/pilot’s perspective.

The canopy is very large and bubble-shaped, with the only framing being the join line between the front and rear sections. It also has a really low coaming (the bottom edge) so the visibility is immense – even for the back-seat passengers.Β  In the photo below, taken at Exeter’s Taxiway ‘C’, you can see how high up the line of sight is for everyone in the aircraft. No idea who the people in the aircraft are, by the way; they are not current Group members. Must have been taken a few years ago.

The canopy opens by sliding forwards on rails, which means that you can’t open it in flight – so no flour-bombing competitions or anything with this aircraft[1]. Yes, there are such activities, and we used to do them at Bodmin (Cornwall Flying Club) in the Cessna 152s there πŸ˜€

The rear canopy is fixed in place, and the rear-seat passengers get in and out by tilting the front seats forward. For emergencies, there’s even a miniature fire axe on the centre console to let the passengers hack their way out!

Everyone has a ‘Happy Place’, and here’s a picture of mine:

This is the full instrument panel, showing even the yellow glider-tow release handle on the centre console (see below for more about this unusual feature). Remember the Captain’s seat is on the left in an aeroplane (but on the right in a helicopter), so the most important instruments are arranged in front of the left hand seat. While it looks complex, in reality it’s not. You don’t sit there looking at all those gauges and dials in bewilderment and think, ‘What does that one do? What about that one?’ πŸ˜‰ Actually how it works is that say I want to check my speed, maybe to make sure it is correct on final approach, I’d look at the airspeed indicator. That’s the one on the top left. If I wanted to see how high up I am, it’s the altimeter. That’s the one slap-bang in the middle of the left instrument panel, with the two hands so it looks like a clock. So what happens is that you use the correct instrument to gather the required information at the time you need it.Β  It’s just a question of knowing which instrument to look at, and where it is, in order to get the information you need. Most of the rest of the time, at least in daylight flying, you more or less ignore the instruments. Really, you shouldn’t be peering at the panel all the time anyway; your eyes should be outside the aircraft, enjoying the view and looking out for other aircraft so you don’t hit them.

Here’s a closer view of the main instrument panel:

Note the gun button on the top of the control column; this fires the aircraft’s machine guns and cannon.

Just kidding πŸ˜‰ It’s actually the transmit button for the radio – also known as a ‘PTT’ or ‘Push to Talk’ button.

So, what’s she like to fly? Well, she is an absolute dream.

Yes, I have put her in my series ‘Beautiful Destroyers’ despite, if truth be told, her looking like a bit of an odd bird. The fuselage almost looks too short for the cockpit canopy, the tail is a funny shape and the tailplane is halfway up the fin.

But she more than makes up for that in her handling. Now that really is beautiful. Light to the touch, sensitive and yet well-balanced controls make for easy and gentle flying characteristics. She’s stable, she’s responsive and she’s just so natural to fly. For example, I took my eldest son David up in her a few months ago, or, more accurately, he took me up. He’s a Pilot too, and yes he’s flown a fair few different aircraft types, but even so I basically just plonked him in the left hand seat and said those immortal words, “You have control. Take us flying”. And he did. Obviously we’d pre-briefed with the checklist; we’d discussed the V-speeds (that’s the speeds that you fly in the different phases of the flight, so, take-off speed; climb speed; best glide speed; maximum flap speed; circuit, base leg, final approach and threshold speeds) but he really just flew the entire sortie himself, with me as Command Pilot only by name. Never flown the type before and he took to her like he’d been flying her all his life, including a lovely wing-down crossind landing, and he loved every minute of it. She really is such a delight to fly.

And the visibility is enormous. That bubble canopy with the low coaming means you have a huge field of view. Couple the view with the lovely, light handling, and you’ve got a gorgeous aeroplane. I mean, when you go back to flying a Piper Warrior – which really is itself a delight to fly – the Warrior feels like a bit of a tank in comparison, and the canopy framing makes you feel like you’re shut in a box. Although the RS-180’s performance is more or less identical to the Warrior’s, the RS-180 is a much nicer aeroplane to fly – and that really is saying something, because the Warrior has always been high on my list of favourite aircraft types to fly in terms of handling.

In this next shot, the aeroplane’s starboard flap is easily visible, set up for preflight inspection at the full 50 degrees of extension.

This aircraft has ‘split flaps’, meaning that just the underside of the wing drops down to form the flap, leaving the upper surface of the wing in place. This is as opposed to ‘slotted’ flaps like on a Warrior, or ‘Fowler’ flaps like on a Cessna 152, where the flaps extend backwards and downwards, sort of on rails, like on a jet airliner. But this aeroplane has split flaps. This does mean that you can’t see from the Pilot’s seat whether the flaps have extended or not, but there’s never any doubt because you can feel it in the way the aeroplane flies. If you zoom in on the next picture, you’ll just about be able to see the way in which the flaps have a sort of ‘recess’ above them in the wing; this is where they go when they retract. 50 degrees of flap is a very effective setting and you can get down – landed and stopped – in just a couple of hundred yards with them, if you know what you’re doing.

Also visible on the above pictures is the glider towing system I mentioned earlier; it’s that sort of black ‘stinger’ thing that is sticking out under the tail. This is kind of an aeroplane ‘tow-bar’ that enables the aircraft to tow gliders into the air, on a rope behind her. ‘Aerotowing’, as it is called, is one of the two main launching methods for getting gliders into the air in gliding clubs all around the world, the other method being the ‘winch launch’, which is very much what I imagine it’s like being catapulted off an aircraft carrier[2] πŸ˜‰ . When I flew gliders back in the early ’90’s, I had a number of aerotows, and they were great fun. As far as any of us know in the Owners’ Group, G-VIZZ has never been used for glider towing. But for the sake of completeness, here’s what an aerotow looks like in practice:

I love this next shot. This is the view forwards on Exeter’s Runway 26, just before opening the throttle for take-off. For me, there are few sights in aviation more evocative than this one. Today, everything has come down to this: all the preparation and planning; all my checks are complete; the aeroplane is fuelled and my route, radio frequencies and V-speeds are written on my kneeboard. Everything is ready; it’s a perfect day for flying, adventure beckons and it’s somewhere off in this present direction of 260 degrees magnetic (that’s what the ’26’ in ‘Runway 26’ means). The reason the airport is there is to enable aeroplanes to land and take off, and now it’s my turn and I have the runway all to myself. So, it’s brakes off, full power, and away we go!

Here’s a video demonstrating the unparalleled visibility that bubble canopy gives. Taken from over Ashburton in Devon on that same day in May 2020, this video begins looking out East towards the English Channel, over Torbay, and then the camera swings all the way round past Dartmoor and over the tail towards Bovey Tracey. Note how the only canopy frame that gets in the way is over my right shoulder, as the view comes round towards the aircraft’s tailplane:

I think that’s quite breathtaking πŸ™‚

This is a still shot of the Teign estuary in the foreground, and Torbay in the distance, taken from over Chudleigh, Devon, again through that magnificent bubble canopy:

I mean that view is just colossal. Here is a view of Ivybridge from 3,000ft, demonstrating the superlative view downwards and forwards:

This is the now-closed Plymouth Airport. It’s the place where I learned to fly in 1996-7; there are plans to reopen it, but we shall have to wait and see – while all the politics are sorted out.

Here’s a lovely view of the River Plym estuary, looking roughly south-southeast:

After this, returning to base, then, via the pretty little grass strip at Bolt Head. I intend to do a landaway here sometime this summer, and I have been practising short-field operations for this very reason[3].

And then the return flight to Exeter in all that spectacular visibility, via the magnificent Start Bay:

I mean it just doesn’t get any more gorgeous than that πŸ˜€

The next picture is of G-VIZZ tucked away in her hangar after the flight, with the covers on. With a canopy that huge, any bird droppings or dust of any kind on the perspex is always going to spoil the flying experience, as well as compromise safety and maybe even damage the plastic (by etching it), so it’s important to put the large canvas cover on her before leaving her for the day. I haven’t had to do this at night yet, though! But I’m sure I’ll be fine; I have flown VIZZ as it was getting dark once and all I needed to do when I put her to bed was to plonk my car on theΒ  taxiway with the headlights on, shining them into the hangar πŸ˜‰

Just one more photo, and this one is not of G-VIZZ but of a German-registered RS-180; I have included this shot to show the shape of the wing on this aeroplane type.

So, there we are. The RS-180 Sportsman, easily the sweetest-handling aeroplane that it has ever been my privilege to fly.

I love those words I used for David: “You have control. Take us flying”.

There’s no better light civilian aeroplane in which to do that.

 

Footnotes

Footnotes
1 Actually, there is a way of doing flour-bombing. We can use the glider-towing attachment. If we put the flour bomb in a net bag and attach a metal ring to the bag, we can clip that ring into the towing apparatus as if it was a mini-glider, then release the bomb by using the yellow glider release lever pictured above. Simples!
2 I realise that there are more than just two methods of launching gliders, but aerotowing and winch launching are far and away the most commonly-used
3 Edit: In between writing this article and its publication, I did just that, and landed at Bolt Head. Here’s G-VIZZ on the ground at Bolt Head airfield, 17th July 2020.

http://www.flyinginthespirit.cuttys.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/20200717_134723-300x169.jpg 300w, http://www.flyinginthespirit.cuttys.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/20200717_134723-768x432.jpg 768w, http://www.flyinginthespirit.cuttys.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/20200717_134723-1536x864.jpg 1536w, http://www.flyinginthespirit.cuttys.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/20200717_134723-2048x1152.jpg 2048w, http://www.flyinginthespirit.cuttys.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/20200717_134723-1200x675.jpg 1200w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 604px) 100vw, 604px" />

Some other aircraft had flown in that day too; you can see them in the background. And in this article, I have left the original essay text in place, because I will undoubtedly be going there again πŸ™‚

But on this occasion, I flew in, went and did a coast path walk, then had a picnic in the shade under the tail, then flew back to Exeter. What’s known as a ‘grand day out’, you know.