The Book

simplicity // 34
the Book

There’s nothing quite like a new book: the thrill of smelling the cover, opening it for the first time, sizing up the font, getting a feel for the pages... It’s a sensuous experience, even before you’ve read a word. You’ve got to love it.

Nevertheless, I was challenged recently, by a line from a new song by the Manic Street Preachers (a literary band if there ever was one):

“Do I have the courage of the books I’ve read?”*

It’s a great question. For it’s one thing to read about an inspiring figure from history, or to identify with a celebrated character from a novel, or to be moved by a compelling idea; it’s another seriously to act on it.

When Jesus returned from the desert, he went straight to the Temple, and read aloud from the book of Isaiah.

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

“Today,” he said, “this scripture is fulfilled within your hearing.” So here is a man displaying the courage of the books he’s read. The words of Isaiah were far more than just an inspiring text for him to quote, or a vision statement for the movement he would begin. Instead, he would embody these words, with great courage. He would live by them, and, in due course, he would die by them.


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action point:

If you were to have the courage of the books you’ve read, which books would they be, and what would you do differently as a result? Try to identify your favourite characters, or plots. What is it about them that you find inspiring or challenging? Re-read an extract today, if you can put your hands on the book, and remind yourself of why you found it so compelling in the first place.

And let us know! Only a week to go, now...


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rsvp:

“I've started writing a number of replies before now and ended up deleting them. I think part of my Lent giving-up has been giving up needing to be a part of the conversation. It's the first time that I’ve verbalised this (it's only really occurred to me in such clarity now), but I think that's definitely part of my Lenten journey - the main thing was giving up worrying about the future (!!!). Just wanted to say that I’m really enjoying it.” Tom

“Thanks for posting my Park Life material, Brian. Just to say, we also had a chance meeting on Sunday with a couple from Southampton who are involved in a community project called Park Life! They are building a community cafe in their local park. They are well under way with theirs (http://www.park-life.org.uk/) and one of our group had a meeting in Southampton yesterday and went to take a look. Inspiring times...” Ben

“On ‘presence’: Your comment ‘it does seem as if the people who are serious about disconnecting and reconnecting are also the ones who become more fully present’ brings to mind Richard Foster’s inspired move in Celebration of Discipline to describe solitude as an ‘outward’ rather than an ‘inward’ discipline, for this very reason. On the theme of movement, I won’t resist the temptation to bat back another U2 lyric: ‘You’re packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been / A place that has to be believed to be seen.’” Julian

“Hiding myself in this place, I rest on a weathered bench and wait for the ‘silence’ of the garden. I don’t mind releasing the other world as it dims, dulls, disappears. I don't mind the empty space within me that waits to be filled anew. I become more aware and more alert to the life-thrumming presence, here where I sit, enclosing and infusing me; the gentlest of caresses yet engendering and inspiring. Covered by a green mantle of unfurling leaves, my senses quite suddenly overfill and overflow. Songbirds trill and insects thrum, resonating together in effervescent joy. Lenten roses lighten winter’s deadened load, whilst partying primroses play in the green luminescence.Daubed directly from the painter’s palette, pink camellia petals beckon brightly from the bushes. Exuberance spills. Vitality thrills. A fragrant-frolic; a life-loving, life-living, consummate call to join the dance.” Sandra

“Back to butterflies: they are a good example of life. They come out of their cocoons slowly and take care unfolding their damp wings. If you try to rush them they shrivel and die. Like children growing up, development is gradual. However there will be others, like me, who were rushed into knowledge of adulthood before they were ready. When I think of butterflies I think of how God has been gently working with me over the last 40 years, and just maybe the words in Song of Songs 2.11,12 - ‘See! The winter is past; ... the season of singing has come,’ will finally come to be in my life.” Kirsty


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May you take courage, today.
Go well!

Brian

* taken from ‘The Descent (Pages 1 & 2)’, from the album Postcards from a Young Man