Listening To A Trumper

 It’s rewarding work, turning up at the Mission, serving food to vulnerable adults who don’t mind listening to a few minutes of religion in exchange for a sausage roll, a bowl of soup, and some nice people to talk to for an hour or so.

 

I am full of existential guilt about it, because doing good makes me feel good, but I am reconciled to this since learning (EdX course ‘Science of Happiness’) that we are genetically programmed this way, and it helps species survival rates. So that’s OK then.

 

It was my turn to give the talk. It’s a tough gig. Most of the audience are appreciative, but I am very ambivalent about doing it. Anyway, I said I would, so I did.

 

Unfortunately, I spoke without notes, and close to the beginning of my ‘put your trust not in men’ homily, I accidentally called the President-Elect of the United States of America a narcissistic sociopath.

 

Michael got up and quietly informed me that if I was going to talk about Trump he was leaving. I kinda got the hint, and also the strong feeling that calling ANYONE a narcissistic sociopath wasn’t exactly Christlike, so I rowed back and galloped to the finish, sitting down absolutely determined never, ever, to do the talk again.

 

Michael hadn’t left, but I could see he was upset so I went over to him and let him tell me what a hypocrite I am ( I am, I am, it’s true.) and then to give me his reasons for supporting Trump. I listened and I listened good.

 

Trump offers hope to people like him. Michael feels his voice is finally being heard. After I sincerely apologised for upsetting him, we had a real conversation. At the end of it I was both enlightened and chastened.

 

Michael was given up for adoption at birth, but his mother changed her mind, and struggled on for two years before giving him up for good. A string of foster homes followed, then a boarding school. Then prison …

 

Michael, in his forties, is good-looking, and intelligent. As his story unfolded I offer up absolute respect for him: for having a completely shit life and not being totally crushed by it.

 

Yes, Michael gets that mysogyny and the racism don’t look good, but he believes that’s media hype, ” The media lies. He’s a good man with a family who wants to change the way the world is run … ”

 

Michael is sitting in a room with some very unhappy people with a food voucher in his hand looking for a job that’s being done by someone in China and he wants the world to change in a way that would give him a life more like mine.

 

I wouldn’t vote for Donald Trump in a million years, but after my conversation with Michael, I understand why people did.

 

I don’t think my little homilies ever achieve much, and I sweat blood over them, but today mine achieved something. I made a monumental error of judgement, but as a result, I made a real connection with a young man whose opinions I really needed to hear.

 

 

God's Free Gifts

I set myself the goal at the beginning of the lockdown of blogging every day. Why do I do this to myself? Like that was ever going to happen! Anyway, here I am six weeks in, on my third post, trying to shape the experience for posterity. 

I admit, at the start, I didn't expect to survive it. You may be surprised to hear this didn't worry me too much for myself:the thought of death fills me with curiosity, a touch of excitement, even. What's the point of faith if it doesn't kick in now? I grieve for the suffering my demise will bring to everyone who loves me, and that's it. 

I stopped worrying about a lot of stupid things, which in the face of  catastrophe, didn't seem worth the energy: I stopped weighing myself. I don't wear a watch, I go to bed and get up when I want to, and I no  longer feel guilty when eating chocolate. The human-inflicted crises to come - Brexit and climate change - receded as the imminent threat of this global pandemic took centre-stage.

There are no compensations, though for the separation from my family, I miss my children and grandchildren continually, and their absence is the most powerful motivator to keep the curfew: to play with the kids again.

When I worked in Lower Kroza, my African friends would say goodbye with,"Go well!" I leave you with the response;

"Stay Well." 

I intend to.

The clamour  to re-engage with society is growing. A few hours ago, a friend sent round a petition to reopen the churches. I replied with latest data on infection rates. at R=0.7 in the South West, the bishops won't countenance it, and I guess are content to take the blame for their insistence on caution. God doesn't follow the science:he invented it.

I would say some of the favourite readings in the bible amongst Christians, are the letters of St Paul referencing the gifts and fruits of the Spirit. Love, Peace and Joy have their place, but in these troubled times, Hope Patience and Perseverance top my list.

 

SowingThe Wind

I remain an ardent member of the Twitterati, despite it's weakness, which is to say the opinions of other people, which are often not improved by being limited to 140 characters. It is, in fact, quite remarkable just how much bile, antagonism and profanity that can be  spewed  out  in so few words. 

I am not vile, only once rude ( for which I took a week of Twitter to cool down), and never, ever, profane. I am occasionally passionate, sometimes dismissive and, I like to think, once in a while, a tad humorous. I have been unfollowed by Cheltenham and blocked by Mark Steel: but no matter, one takes the rough with the smooth. 

I rarely listen to mainstream news any longer, though  I will put in a plug here for France24, non-partisan for sure, and a different perspective ... So my Twitterfeed keeps me up to date with all the goings-on. 

The discerning amongst you will spot a huge flaw in this strategy, especially if you factor in that I don't waste my wit on people who don't share my views, and I have no truck with the rude lot. Filtering my intake is good for my blood pressure, that's my excuse, and it's a good one. 

So it's on Twitter that I follow the abomination that is Donald Trump, with his vile views on practically every demographic except the crazy one, and the appalling farce that is the EU Referendum. 

Today, my TweetCommunity is a little peeved at the papers I would rather pull my own teeth than read, blaming Social Media for propagating the hatred that feeds  anger against LBGT, (Other) Faith Groups, Refugees and Immigrants. I would say that Social Media is a scary place if you don't have a strong stomach,  but Anti-Social Media must take responsibility too. Look at at THIS:

Sickening, isn't it? 

So a mad man with a gun and a knife brutally murders a member of the British Parliament, and everyone is rushing about trying to discover who is to blame?

I follow Donald Trump with horrified fascination and want to end by saying this:

IF YOU ALLOW THE POLITICS OF HATE TO SUCCEED , YOU END UP WITH DONALD TRUMP!!! 

And a beautiful, talented young mother dying in a pool of blood outside a library in a  quiet Yorkshire town. 

If you sow the wind, you reap the whirlwind. Just saying.