Author: Jonnyfun.E

Now retired, and enjoying making music and writing. Living in Gloucester, historically an important port on the river Severn, and situated with The Forest of Dean and the Brecon Beacons to the west, and the beautiful Cotswolds to the east.
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Family. Mark 3:31-35

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31Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. 32A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” 33And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” 34And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 35Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

Mark has already posed the question earlier in the chapter about family, and loyalty:  They (his family) went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” 

And now Jesus responds to the question by talking about a new kind of community that is not based on blood ties, but on a commitment to do the will of God.  In conversation with those from the Muslim world, and from Burma, I have been reminded of precisely this issue.  Those who  have decided to follow Jesus in some countries take a huge risk.  They may be shunned by their family.  They may be discriminated against in the job market, they may be imprisoned, even lose their life.

Even in the USA where Christianity is the major religion, to be be a disciple of Jesus can be difficult.  Working in the area of peacebuilding may test relationships with Christians who have supported the US government’s foreign policies of intervention.  One of my new friends grew up in a church that was very nationalistic, and it has been hard for him as his views on violence and war have increasingly distanced him from his home congregation of which his father is the pastor.

Being a part of the ‘New Community’ that Jesus offers us will take us in directions that will not only enrich our lives, but challenge them severely.  May we know God’s grace as we continue the journey.
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The hour I first believed

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I have a lot of reading to do, following up on my time at the Summer Peacebuilding Institute, but I’ve just got stuck into a new novel, and I know I’m going to find it hard to put that down to read the textbooks that I have brought back with me.  I had ordered it just before I left for the States, and as I start to read it, I’m struck by how much it fits with what I have been learning, centred as it is around one of the most traumatic events in recent years in the US.

The book is the latest by American author, Wally Lamb, and tells the story of a married couple who both work at Columbine High School in Colorado.  The book deals with the aftermath of the shooting at Columbine, and the various traumas that the characters experience as a direct result of the shooting, and the more hidden traumas from the past that are triggered by the incident.
Early on in the book, we meet a young girl who really struggles with school, and with life.  Her early life is a story of rejection and abuse, and the school system seems unlikely to help her.  It reminds me of Gary Brown (see post ‘Hurt People Hurt People’).
It also reminds me of the work of psychologist Martha Cabrera in Nicaragua.  She describes how so many schemes for development have failed in that country, because inadequate attention has been paid to the results of trauma from years of violence and political instability.  When working with survivors of Hurricane Mitch in 1998, she found that people had an even greater need to talk about other losses that they had never voiced, including wounds related to the country’s political history.
We have not experienced anything like the problems of Nicaragua, but I am sure that even in our community there are people who have not had the opportunity to work through experiences that have devastated their lives, whether it is the floods of 2007, or the loss of a child, or sudden bereavement, or living with abuse …. 
In addition, we in Britain still suffer from the ‘stiff upper lip’ and  ‘grin and bear it’ attitudes.  Many of us are unwilling to face the difficult issues in our lives.  Many of us deal with trauma by pretending it hasn’t happened.  When faced with others who are traumatised, I have often come across the attitude – ‘Isn’t it time you moved on?’    What we need is an approach that is not afraid to listen to another’s story, however many times they need to tell it.  A willingness to walk with people down the road of recovery, even if it takes years.  (Some research indicates that the length of time for recovery is directly related to how long ago the trauma took place).
How can we create an approach to working with trauma that provides good results ?  Only by understanding a unity of body, mind and spirit.  By understanding that as human beings, we are a single reality, that finds expression in different ways.  Trauma affects us physically, mentally, and spiritually, and recovery will also involve all aspects of who we are.
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Back Home

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I’m back in England and glad to be home after 4 and a half weeks in the US and 3 weeks away from family.  It was my fourth time in America, and it was great to experience again what is in many ways such a fantastic country. However, this time, I come back with more appreciation of England than I remember from previous visits. (Maybe it’s advancing age)!

Last Saturday, a friend and I decided that we would walk the two  miles or so downtown to visit the farmer’s market.  There was going to be a bluegrass jam, and it would be my last chance to hear some local music.  However, walking the two miles proved to be a challenge, with no pavements for most of the way.  It was either walk through someone’s front garden, or risk being knocked down.  (Most houses don’t have walls or fences around them, so it wasn’t too much of a challenge, but it did bring home to me how much they are dependent on the car).  Public transport (apart from big cities) is generally very patchy, and people travel everywhere by car.  As we walked into the downtown area, it felt like a ghost town.  This was a Saturday morning, but there were very few people around, and I thought about my own home town and the crowds of people who would be walking into town for the Saturday market.
Urban planning in the US seems to allow for far too much sprawl and ugly developments.  So however much some of us complain about out of town shopping centres, and the effects they have on towns, a trip to the US puts things in perspective.  My town of Beverley has about 35,000 inhabitants.  The whole town is contained within a area about 2 miles across.   Harrisonburg Virginia, population 45,000 (of whom 20,000 are university students) covers at least twice the area of land, with shopping centres all along the route from the downtown area to the interstate 81.  The downtown area has a very pleasant feel, with some nice restaurants but few shops and businesses. (Although it’s not bad by US standards).  

One of the big discussions here in Beverley in recent years has been to do with building retail developments out of the town centre.  The US experience seems to suggest that once you have developments of this kind with large shopping centres,  all that is left for the historic town centres is restaurants, banks, antique and gift shops.  The equivalent in England seems to be charity shops, estate agents and building societies.   If our town centres are to be more than ghost towns, then they must cater for some of our basic shopping needs.  
Well, that’s enough of a rant on that topic.  I’m back in the ‘green and pleasant land’ again, and pleased to be here.
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How to turn a groundhog into a chicken

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I was a guest at the house of Gerald and Sara Shenk on Sunday. They are part of the leadership of a relatively small Mennonite Church that started in 2007 here on the university campus at Harrisonburg. They call themselves ‘The Table’, and are centred around hospitality and community.  When the church was in its early days, they decided that they wanted to practise hospitality in two particular ways: a weekly celebration of communion, and a weekly shared meal.  (This is very different to the usual Mennonite practice of celebrating communion just twice a year, at Easter and in the autumn).  


Since a weekly celebration of communion has always been a part of my practice, I was keen to experience this in a Mennonite setting, so I walked the short distance from my dorm to the beautiful setting of the church, a small building on a hill overlooking the campus, with views over the Shenandoah valley to the distant mountains.  The service reminded me a little of childhood experiences of worship, centred around singing, scripture readings, silence, and reflections from different members of the church. It felt good to be there.  


After the service we walked to the home of Gerald and Sara Shenk for a delicious lunch of chicken casserole and rice. (Gerald had been my teacher in the first week here, and Sara also teaches at the university).  It was at the meal that I learned some interesting things about Harrisonburg and chickens. Harrisonburg is something of a ‘chicken capital’ in this part of the world.  Although the population today is only 45,000, Harrisonburg received the title of ‘city’ early in the 20th century,  and like many towns this size it has universities and is an important business and commercial centre for this part of the Shenandoah Valley.  Chickens are reared intensively and processed all around the area, which has led to an influx of workers, notably from Mexico and Central America.  Probably as a direct result of this, English is taught as a second language to more children in Harrisonburg schools than in the outlying districts of Washington D.C. (Washington is a very multi ethnic city)


This enterprise contributes to the economic growth that Harrisonburg has experienced even during the recession, but there are some rumblings of discontent.  The chicken industry rears just one breed of chicken on the grounds that it is easier to prevent disease if you only have one breed.  In fact the city has passed a law that no one is allowed to keep chickens within the town itself, for fear that people will rear other breeds which may pass on diseases to the intensively farmed chickens.   At least one person, keeping a variety of breeds within the city limits, has had his chickens taken away.  One of the things that interested me about this debate was that it seems to be centred around the issue of freedom to rear chickens as you wish, rather than on the animal welfare issues for the intensively farmed birds.


One young couple sitting round the table – Ryan and Janey – are just starting to rear chickens, and had some questions, which resulted in the following discussion: The chicken coop should be moved regularly, every two or three days, to ensure that the grass in the back yard is not permanently killed by the chicken poop.  There was the added problem of flies.  When the coop has been moved, flies gather around the remaining pungent chicken poop, and the smell gets a bit rich.  There was some discussion as to what might help deal with this awful smell.  Ryan had been especially concerned to know the answer to this question after their next door neighbour had commented on the smell, and asked if something might be done.  After some research, Ryan was advised to put some lime on the offending poop.  So far this seems to be working.


Kirk offered the fascinating information that chickens love to eat maggots, and will eat them in preference to grass.  So one way of preserving the grass is to provide some maggots!   Kirk had a friend who offered this tested method: get a 5 gallon plastic drum.  Drill holes in it, especially all around the bottom.  Put a dead groundhog, skunk, or possum into the drum.  The flies will come, feed on the groundhog, lay their eggs which after three days will have developed to maggots.  The chickens can feed on this rich feast of maggots through the holes in the bottom of the drum.


Another tip was to use the chickens as a means of pest control.  Their preference for maggots and other bugs makes them a very effective substitute instead of chemical means of control.  let the chickens loose in the garden, and they will eat up the bugs.  And because chickens prefer bugs to greenstuff,  they will eat the bugs before they start in on your carefully tended veg in the garden!  However, timing is an issue.  Leave them loose in the garden for more than a couple of days, and you will soon see them tucking into your precious lettuce etc.


And finally.  Winter rye makes a good crop apparently for chicken feed.  Towards the end of the season, plant some winter rye, and when it gets to  about 4/5 inches, give the chickens a run in the garden as they feed on this winter banquet!  P.S.  This last gem applies to the climate here -I don’t know if winter rye grows in all climates.

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A New way of Seeing. Mark 3:28-30

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Mark 3:28-30.

As it’s just two verses, I’ll quote the full passage.

“Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”— for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.”

The context here is all about the source of Jesus’ power.  His family have already tried to restrain Jesus when people have expressed a concern that is out his mind.  The Scribes take it a step further, saying that Jesus is possessed by the ‘Ruler of the Demons’.  But what Mark wants us to know is that Jesus is ‘possessed’ by the power of God.

There has been a lot of ink spilled on the meaning of ‘Blaspheming against the Holy Spirit’, and I can remember conversations with Christians who were worried that they had, or might in the future, commit this sin.  Certainly Jesus intends his hearers to take his words very seriously, as he starts with the words: “Truly I tell you.” (A formula that also appears elsewhere as “Truly, truly I say unto you”).  Since this passage is all about the source of Jesus’ power and identity, the ‘blasphemy against the Holy Spirit” must be a rejection of Jesus and his kingdom.

I just have the following thoughts that intersect with this passage, that come after a week’s work on trauma healing.

Briefly – trauma is an event that threatens our physical, mental, spiritual or emotional well being.  We don’t ‘just get over it’ because trauma has a huge impact on our body and our brain. Reactions often include: suppression of grief and fears; anger; spiritual questions (why?); a need for justice; a desire for revenge against a perpetrator.

One of the most common reactions is to divide the world up into ‘good’ and ‘evil’.  Our anger against those who have hurt us may come out in acts of ‘justified aggression’ in the name of self defense.  We saw that in the response to 9/11.  The response of the American administration at the time resulted in a widespread fear of Islam and of Muslims in general.  

Until a person/family/community/nation can break free from this cycle of violence, it is likely that every act of aggression will result in a violent response.  But taking a decision to act in a different way to trauma can lead to a whole story.  We have probably all heard stories of where a victim has taken a decision to live in a different way.  It always involves risk taking, and it may involve engaging with the offender (in a non violent way).  The victim may come to point of forgiving the offender, and in some cases there may even be reconciliation.

What is certain is that there can not be any forgiveness or reconciliation unless the victim is able to break free from the cycle of violent behaviour.

The problem remains as long as we see ‘the other’ as evil.  Once we are able to move beyond this to see a perpetrator as a human being, there is the possibility of change and transformation.

In the passage in Mark’s Gospel, this is the problem.  The scribes look at Jesus and see an enemy.  They go so far as to say he is evil.  Unless they are willing to choose a new way to see him, there will be no possibility of forgiveness and reconciliation.
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The Human Face

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As I have mentioned several times, there are many nationalities here at the Summer Peacebuilding Institute.  It struck me at some point how we were relating to one another – simply as human beings, and not on the basis of nationality or religion.  That may seem a pretty obvious thing to do, but it’s surprising how often we relate to others on the basis of difference, rather than on what unites us, that is, our common humanity.

We heard a speaker from Egypt last week talking about the problems of the Middle East, and a follow up discussion was organised for all those interested.  I joined a group of about 15 people from Egypt, Iran, Afghanistan, Israel, Jordan, Syria, Iraq and Iran sharing experiences and views about the Middle East.  
In that, and all the other discussions and training we have had, religion has not been something that divides us.  What has united us, apart from this basic humanity, has been our common concern to work for peace with justice.
Wherever you are are, seek to meet with people who are different to you, whatever that difference may be – race, religion, educational background, colour, political persuasion or indeed anything that would divide us one from another.  It is only in such engagement – putting a human face on those who are different – that we will be able to learn to understand and grow in our efforts for peace.
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Hurt People Hurt People

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I’ve been learning with an amazing group of people this week.  They come from all over the world, with a variety of backgrounds, and different faiths.  As this temporary community, we have thought about traumatic events, and how they affect our lives, and have shared stories with each other.  I consider it a great privilege to have been here this week.

We have thought about the hurts in our lives, and the hurts that we have seen in the lives of others, and how our reaction as ‘hurt people’ can often be to hurt other people.
We have seen examples of those who, sometimes with a great deal of support, have been able to escape from the cycles of violence in their lives, and find some measure of healing.
Especially moving was the account of how two members of a family in Texas took the brave step of making contact with the man who had murdered another family member.
The lives of the White family were changed forever in 1986, when Cathy was murdered.  Linda White (Cathy’s mother) and her granddaughter Amy (Cathy’s daughter) went through a year long process of preparing to meet Cathy’s killer, Gary Brown.
Gary was a classic example of ‘Hurt People Hurt People’.  Through the work of a restorative justice programme, Linda and Amy were able to meet Gary and tell him some of the devastating results of his crime in the life of their family.  
For more on this, read the account in the Houston press:   http://www.houstonpress.com/2001-09-27/news/face-to-face/
And for more on restorative justice, see Howard Zehr’s blog.  (Howard is a teacher here at EMU and widely regarded as one of the first to pioneer restorative justice)
Or for more general info on the subject:
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Rich Experience

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Today I started the second of the two courses I am taking here in Harrisonburg.  Strategies for Trauma Healing and Resilience …. It’s an intense course from 8.30 am – 5 pm, which doesn’t leave a lot of time for Blogging or looking at Mark’s Gospel.  So forgive me if the entries are a bit sparse for the next few days.

This week we have over 80 students, from 33 countries, the youngest of whom is only 17 – from Memphis Tennessee.  It’s a amazing and wonderful to be sharing stories with people from Iran, India, Ethiopia, Kenya, Afghanistan, Jordan, USA, Northern Ireland, Zimbabwe, Mexico, El Salvador, Bolivia, Canada, Israel, Egypt, Korea, Burma …. that’s the ones I can remember for now.
A rich experience!
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Jam and the Pink Cadillac

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Today was the last day of my brief trip down to the South West of Virginia to see some real bluegrass music.  

I arrived at the Floyd Country Store at lunchtime and decided to try the Barbeque Platter, which was verry nice!  A quick detour then to see some of the sights along the Blue Ridge Parkway, where I visited an old mill and sampled some more bluegrass, this time accompanied by some dancing!
After the Sunday Bluegrass Jam back at Floyd, I sadly returned to Harrisonburg, but decided to stay off the Interstate as far as possible.  (The interstate is only a dual carriageway, and with 18 wheeler trucks thundering by it’s not conducive to relaxed driving)
So on route 11, I came across the Pink Cadillac Diner.  I couldn’t resist going in and buying a coffee, and had a brief conversation with a rather bemused woman at the till who couldn’t quite understand why I was so taken with the place.
I stopped a few times on the journey to take a few snaps.  What was interesting me more than anything was the broken down abandoned clapboard houses and barns that are as frequent a sight as churches!
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The Floyd Country Store

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I’ve driven over 150 miles to get to this place, so it had better be good.  Of course, it is.  It’s amazing, if a bit touristy.  (I can’t complain, I’m a tourist too).  I can’t say that I know a great deal about the bluegrass and gospel music, but I know enough to appreciate what’s happening.

Floyd is a little place, with one stop sign and a few shops.  I don’t get to see much of it tonight, as I want to make sure I get a seat for the Friday Night Jamboree.  I arrive to find it filling up nicely, and just about to start at 6.15 pm.  It costs me $4.00 to get in.  Wow!  It’s filled to capacity (275, it says on the fire notice) by the time the show gets under way.
The MC welcomes everyone, and before the first band, he invites someone to come and open in prayer!  Hey, that’s a first.  A concert with an opening prayer.  I feel as though I am back in my childhood as he opens his prayer with the words “Almighty God, our heavenly Father ..”  What a wonderful way to kick things off.  He prays for the bands that are to play, for safe travel, and for those of us visiting tonight.
We get an hour of gospel songs (I’ll fly away, Keep on the sunny side etc), which is a good start, but things really get into gear when the second band come on at 7.30.   I have already struck up a conversation with Jim and his wife, (I never did get her name) next to me, and she tells me it’s about to get interesting.  As the Jugbusters are setting up, I can hear some loud clacking noises, as people walk past me towards the front.  The sound comes from their shoes, which look to have bottle tops screwed into the soles, which make a mighty fine sound when they all start dancing.
As soon as the band start, the dance floor becomes a mass of gently undulating swaying bodies, accompanied by the click of their dancing shoes.  There are all ages dancing, from little children to an older man with overalls, a long white beard and a wide brimmed hat.  He is having a great time, and is even happy to stop when a tourist wants to take a photo of him.  Some of the older men (I guess in their 70’s) dancing have a kind of studied, slightly self conscious look on their face as they look into the middle distance.  They are taking this seriously!
In the interval, we have a raffle, which makes me feel at home, but I don’t win.  The MC has a prize for the person who has travelled the furthest to be there, and unfortunately, it’s not me.  There are people from Ireland, Sweden, Holland, Mexico, New Zealand and Australia visiting, to name a few.
The last band is the Sigmon Stringers, a family band from North Carolina.  The youngest is a 7 year old fiddle player.  That was neat!  At about 10.15 pm, after they have played for an hour or so, the MC gets up and thanks everyone for coming … “You don’t need to rush off folks, we’ll be here for a while clearing up an’ all”  The crowd drift off slowly into the night, and emerge from the country store to hear the sound of a banjo, guitar and fiddle being played by some young folks, sitting outside, just up the street.
More from Floyd tomorrow.