This is the basic text of my final speech in the House of Lords in a debate on the humanitarian situation in Sudan. I retire from the House today.

My Lords, I am grateful to the Government for granting this debate at a very opportune time, with Lady Sandwich in the gallery and gallery and a detailed report ‘Rivers of Blood’ being delivered this morning to the APPG (dedicated to the late Lord Sandwich). I thank the Minister for her commitment to addressing the urgent and long-term situation in Sudan, a country I love, where I have friends, and which I have visited a number of times – most recently in June 2024. My concerns and engagement will continue after I retire from this House this afternoon, albeit in a different way.

The humanitarian situation in Sudan is so dire that the word ‘urgent’ does not do justice to the need for action. I won’t repeat here the many reports from agencies engaged on the ground in Sudan, but they make for harrowing hearing and reading. A number have provided briefings in Parliament in the last few days. We had planned for the Archbishop of Sudan to be here today, but he has had to return to Port Sudan a couple of days ago. The lack of attention to Sudan in western media is bewildering in many respects, but it seems that increasing attention is now being paid.

The suffering in Sudan is almost unbearable – the worst humanitarian catastrophe on the planet. And it is not new – nor simply a phenomenon of only the last three years. Whatever the causes of and motivations behind the current conflict, it is civilians, women, children, young men and vulnerable ethnic groups that are being targeted and abused in the most inhumane ways. A few numbers:

  • It is estimated that up to 150,000 have died, 13 million have been displaced (9 million internally and 4 million in exile)
  • 25-30 million people are hungry, malnourished or severely malnourished
  • Save the Children estimate that 16 million children are in need of aid and that in 2024 more than 2,000 cases of children being killed, maimed, abducted, raped and violated
  • Sexual violence against children, women and young men is out of control, fuelled by an evident assumption of impunity and unaccountability by perpetrators; shame is being weaponised in the most vicious and immoral way
  • Access to aid is frequently blocked and funding is inadequate to the need
  • In so-called illegal immigration to the UK Sudan is now the most-represented group; migration to neighbouring countries such as South Sudan and Chad is in the millions
  • According to several agencies on the ground, the numbers of people killed or maimed by explosive weaponry – either directly or from ‘unexploded’ arms – are increasing.

I could go on. The siege of El-Fasher led to deliberate targeting of civilians, widespread massacres, and a targetted and systematic strategy of wiping out non-Arab Africans – with a view to erasing or re-writing the country’s history, culture and identity. At a briefing in Parliament last week we heard that “the script is already written” as the RSF now move on to Tawila and El-Obeid. We can’t say we didn’t know what will happen in the Kordofans as the rehearsal in El-Fasher was so successful for the RSF. Civilians, humanitarian workers and volunteers are unprotected against both the SAF and RSF, cannon fodder in a war they didn’t start.

My Lords, it is timely that Sudan is now rising in prominence in both political and media spheres. The USA is finally beginning to wake up to the crisis.

Other Noble Lords will bring specific points to bear in the short speech time allowed, so I don’t want to cover every aspect of the tragedy we are witnessing. I hope we won’t have too much repetition, deviation or hesitation, but put on record the many sides of this conflict that need repeatedly to be heard, noted and responded to.

I am grateful to the Noble Baroness the Minister who has prioritised Sudan and made herself available for briefings and conversations. “Governments need to do more” is a constant plea on many issues, but I think there are one or two areas where ‘more’ might be achievable now.

First, the UK has a responsibility to step up its leadership of partner nations in working with the Quad and others to apply diplomatic, economic, political and moral pressure to (a) bring an end to the conflict, (b) stem the flow of arms and finance by countries such as the UAE, Egypt, Turkey, Iran and Russia – using its clout to interrupt the flow of gold and rare-earth minerals into the global markets and to hold publicly to account those countries which enable this brutality to continue, and (c) to mobilise – using military means, if possible – to provide immediate protection of civilians and humanitarian workers.

Key to this is the need to make all sides in the conflict seriously and unmistakably aware that they will be accountable in the future for their actions now. Atrocities will be punished under a rule of law to which belligerents pay no regard.

Secondly, the civilian population needs urgent protection. The need for a diplomatic surge is clear, but resolutions by themselves will not bring a ceasefire or a peace that, in the longer term, leads to civilian rule. As I indicated earlier, we must not see a re-run of El-Fasher in Tawila and El-Obeid. (Agencies are evidently not confident that this can be avoided without some targeted and serious interventions now.)

My Lords, the migration of Sudanese refugees into Europe in general and the UK in particular will only increase – a challenge that needs international partnership and coordination. The UK can take a more confident lead in this. Visit Sudan and everybody you speak with is crying out for the UK – for historical reasons – to step up its power and influence.

Wherever the future leads, international partners are going to have to attend to re-building infrastructure and civil society. The land is going to have to be de-mined and cleared of ordnance. And, most concerningly, a generation of young people who are suffering now will need massive support if cycles of vengeance and violence are not to be let loose in the years to come. Generational trauma will be fearsome.

Other speakers will touch on matters I have not had time to address. But, I hope my point is made. The humanitarian disaster – the worst in the world – cannot simply be observed from a distance; it needs concerted and determined attention and action. I look forward to the Minister’s response to the debate.

This is the script of this morning’s Pause for Thought on BBC Radio 2’s Breakfast Show with Scott Mills.

You know, I’ve had better weeks. Liverpool got thrashed at Anfield, I got ready to say farewell to Leeds when I retire (this weekend), and then Jimmy Cliff went and died.

I met him once. It was at the BBC and he was friendly and generous of spirit. I loved his voice and it’s impossible not to love reggae, isn’t it? But, what I remember most was the title of one of his songs – and I can’t even remember if he actually sang it on the day: ‘Wonderful World, Beautiful People’.

Now, you don’t have to look very far to realise that the world can be grim and that some people are anything but beautiful. A great friend of mine is the Archbishop of Sudan and he is over here at the moment. Sudan has been a slaughter field for three years and when I visited Port Sudan last year I heard some appalling stories. Some people are truly awful and they do awful things – things I can’t say out loud this morning. And for some people the world is an ugly place.

So, is it naïve – or even cruel – to sing about a wonderful world and beautiful people? Well, that’s reality, isn’t it? Beauty and horror live alongside each other. Joy and pain can’t be separated. The world is a glory and a mess – at the same time.

This is why, every day, I read some poems from 3000 years ago. The Psalms bounce from joyful praise to lament, from hopeful longing to fearful misery, from musical excitement to an empty silence. And, if I am feeling fine and read a miserable Psalm, then I don’t move quickly on: I discover in the words the experience of someone else who is in a different place … and that invites me to empathy … gives me a vocabulary for when my joy has gone. The Psalms are brilliant.

Anyway, I think it’s sad that Jimmy Cliff has died, … but wonderful that his music lives on. And when I retire on Friday I’m going to listen to more and more of it.

This is the script of this morning’s Pause for Thought on BBC Radio 2’s Breakfast Show with Scott Mills.

Later this morning I’ll be remembering Guy Fawkes and his dastardly plot to blow up Parliament in 1605 – 420 years ago to the day. He was rumbled by the authorities under what is now just in front of the chamber to the House of Lords – where I’ll be today. Then, tonight, while I’m worrying about the Liverpool-Manchester City game on Sunday, bonfires and fireworks will celebrate the traitor’s execution in parties everywhere.

Don’t you think that’s a bit weird? Shocking, even? We’re actually celebrating the burning of a Roman Catholic and thinking it’s funny. 

But, history is always a bit more complicated than the stories we get told at school. Things aren’t always black and white, right or wrong, good or bad. If Guy Fawkes had been successful in his parliamentary endeavours, our country might now look a bit different. And it’s easy to look back and wonder why some passions, beliefs or affiliations caused such violent disagreement.

Well, I’ve just got back from five days in Germany where history is always complicated. I began in Erfurt – where Martin Luther was a monk before kicking off the Reformation -the subsequent peasants’ war caused up to 100,000 deaths. I then went to Leipzig and heard some wonderful music in the church where Johann Sebastian Bach was the director of music for 27 years. Yet, Bach was not just a wonderful musician and composer – probably my favourite in a Radio 3 sense; he was also a stubborn businessman who knew how to get his own way.

I can struggle to be grown up when it comes to memories. Reality is always more messy. It shouldn’t be a complete surprise to find out that someone we thought was a saint turns out to have been ‘complicated’ after all. It’s possible to be a saint in one area of life and a torment in another – despite best efforts.

So, when the Bible says that all of us have messed up – the word is ‘sinned’ – it is simply being obvious. Yet, as the great Leonard Cohen – who died this week in 2016 – put it: “Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.”

This is the script of a sermon preached on Reformationstag in the Augustinerklosterkirche in Erfurt, Germany, on 31 October 2025.

Deuteronomium 6:4-9

4Höre, Israel, der Herr ist unser Gott, der Herr ist einer. 5Und du sollst den Herrn, deinen Gott, lieb haben von ganzem Herzen, von ganzer Seele und mit all deiner Kraft. 6Und diese Worte, die ich dir heute gebiete, sollst du zu Herzen nehmen 7und sollst sie deinen Kindern einschärfen und davon reden, wenn du in deinem Hause sitzt oder unterwegs bist, wenn du dich niederlegst oder aufstehst. 8Und du sollst sie binden zum Zeichen auf deine Hand, und sie sollen dir ein Merkzeichen zwischen deinen Augen sein, 9und du sollst sie schreiben auf die Pfosten deines Hauses und an die Tore.

Vergesslichkeit

Es ist mir eine Ehre, an diesem Reformationstag hier bei Ihnen zu sein. In vier Wochen beende ich meinen Dienst als Bischof in der Diözese von Leeds und ziehe mich in meine Heimatstadt Liverpool zurück. Sogenannter ‚Ruhestand‘. Dies folgt auf fast fünfzehn Jahre der Verbundenheit mit dem Kirchenkreis Erfurt und der Freundschaft mit Senior Matthias Rein. Die Partnerschaft begann mit der ehemaligen Diözese von Bradford, die 2014 aufgelöst und zusammen mit zwei weiteren Diözesen zu einer einzigen großen Diözese, Leeds, umgestaltet wurde. In dieser Übergangszeit erlebten Ihr auch eine Kirchenfusion, und ich erinnere mich gut daran, wie ich bei einem Besuch in Erfurt fragte, welche Lehren wir in England aus Ihren Erfahrungen in Mitteldeutschland ziehen könnten.

Schon vor meiner Beziehung zu Erfurt lernte ich die EKD im ganzen Land kennen, als ich elf Jahre lang als anglikanischer Co-Vorsitzender der Meissen-Kommission diente, die die Church of England und die EKD auf ihrem Weg zur vollständigen sichtbaren Einheit zusammenhält. Es war ein Privileg, das Reformationsjahr 2017 in Berlin und Wittenberg zu erleben und die Reformation selbst mit deutschen Augen zu sehen. (Die Reformation sieht in England anders aus, weil sie mit Ereignissen und einer Politik verbunden war, die es nur in England gab.) Es gab Reformationen, nicht nur eine monolitische Reformation.

In Deutschland – und in der EKD – habe ich gelernt, nicht in nostalgischen Fantasien zu schwelgen, sondern die Geschichte mit Respekt zu behandeln. Und das bedeutet, sich erinnern zu lernen. Wir müssen nie unsere Geschichte vergessen – sondern immer uns daran erinnern, woher wir kommen. Das Thema des Erinnerns – oder besser: Nicht-Vergessens – durchzieht die Bibel wie Blut durch unsere Adern.

Der Predigttext wurde zu früh abgebrochen. Er geht weiter: 10Wenn dich nun der Herr, dein Gott, in das Land bringen wird, von dem er deinen Vätern Abraham, Isaak und Jakob geschworen hat, es dir zu geben – große und schöne Städte, die du nicht gebaut hast, 11und Häuser voller Güter, die du nicht gefüllt hast, und ausgehauene Brunnen, die du nicht ausgehauen hast, und Weinberge und Ölbäume, die du nicht gepflanzt hast –, und wenn du nun isst und satt wirst, 12so hüte dich, dass du nicht den Herrn vergisst, der dich aus Ägyptenland, aus der Knechtschaft, geführt hat, 13sondern du sollst den Herrn, deinen Gott, fürchten und ihm dienen und bei seinem Namen schwören.

Im Jahre 2013 verbrachte ich ein Wochenende bei der Königin in Sandringham. (Prinz Andrew war nicht dabei…) Ihr Ehemann Prinz Philip war nicht erfreut darüber, daß ich am Sonntagmorgen über einen Text aus dem Alten Testament gepredigt hatte. Beim Abendessen sagte er mir, ich solle das Alte Testament ignorieren und nur über das Neue Testament predigen. Ich antwortete, man könne Jesus, die Evangelien und das Neue Testament nicht verstehen, ohne das Alte Testament zu verstehen. „Doch, das kann man!“, protestierte er. „Nein, das kann man nicht!“, sagte ich, „es passt alles zusammen. Ich kann Ihnen die ganze Geschichte der Bibel in einer Minute erzählen.“ Niemand sagte „Nicht“, also tat ich es … während die Queen lächelte.

Ich muss allerdings zugeben, dass bei einem solchen Versuch ein paar Details weggelassen werden müssen. Aber wenn du dieser Erzählung folgst und diese Geschichte verstehst, dann verstehst du im Wesentlichen die ganze Bibel. (Diese Zusammenfassung ist auch in meinem Buch In höchsten Tönen zu finden.)

Also, die ganze Bibel in einer Minute (aber deutsche Worte sind länger…)!

Am Anfang hat Gott alles erschaffen, was es gibt und er fand, dass seine Schöpfung wunderschön war – auch wenn alles durch Menschen schiefgegangen ist. Er rief ein bestimmtes Volk, um den verschiedenen Völkern der Erde zu zeigen, wer er ist und was ihn (seinen Charakter) ausmacht. Dieses Volk betrachtete seine ‚Auserwähltheit‘ als ein Privileg (‚Wir sind auserwählt worden, und deswegen müssen wir was Besonderes sein und die Welt sollte unsere Besonderheit anerkennen‘) statt die Verantwortung zu erkennen, das eigene Leben dafür zu geben, damit die Welt sehen kann, wie Gott ist. Die Propheten erschienen und warnten die Menschen des Volkes, dass sie alles verlieren würden, was ihre Geschichte, Identität und Berufung ausmachte, wenn sie ihre ursprüngliche Berufung, nämlich der Welt die Erkenntnis zu ermöglichen, wie Gott ist, nicht wieder entdeckten. Tatsächlich ist genau das eingetroffen, und das Volk wurde zwei Mal ins Exil verbannt – im achten und im sechsten Jahrhundert vor Christi. Jesus erfüllte durch seine Person das, was immer die Berufung Israels gewesen war, und gab sein Leben, damit die Welt erfahren konnte, was Gott ausmacht. Dann forderte er das Volk, das seinen Namen trägt, auf, in seiner Welt das auszuleben, was in ihm erfüllt worden war – was schon immer die Berufung seines Volkes gewesen war: der Welt zu zeigen, wer er ist und was ihn ausmacht.

Prinz Philip war immer noch nicht überzeugt! Aber er lachte.

Aber das ist auch unsere Grundgeschichte. Hier in Deuteronomium Kapitel 6 geht es nicht darum, sich zu erinnern, nur um sich zu erinnern; vielmehr sollen sie sich an ihre Geschichte erinnern, um sicherzustellen, dass sie mit dem Charakter und Willen Gottes im Einklang bleiben. Klar ist das nicht einfach, aber Christen haben keine alternative Aufgabe.

Später in Kapitel 26 wird das Volk aufgefordert, regelmäßige und häufige Rituale in seinem gemeinsamen und liturgischen Leben zu verankern, um die Berufung, die sie allzu leicht vergessen, lebendig zu halten. Einmal im Jahr müssen sie die Erstlinge ihrer Ernte dem Priester bringen – die besten Früchte der Ernte werden verschenkt. Ihre Belohnung ist das Rezitieren eines Glaubensbekenntnisses – der ältesten Form des Glaubensbekenntnisses im Alten Testament –, das mit den Worten beginnt: „Mein Vater war ein wandernder Aramäer …“ Mit anderen Worten: Vergesst nie, dass ihr euer Leben, eure Existenz und euren Wohlstand der Gnade und Barmherzigkeit Gottes verdankt, der euch aus der Sklaverei in Ägypten befreit hat. Einmal hattest du nichts. Vergesst nie.

Ich bin Bischof in England und Mitglied des House of Lords. Ab 2015 waren die Debatten über Brexit meistens schrecklich. Die Briten hatten ihre eigenen Geschichten vergessen. Im britischen Oberhaus habe ich mehrmals darauf hingewiesen, dass wir Briten ein Inselmentalität haben und wegen unserer Sprachunfähigkeiten nicht in der Lage sind, andere Europäer zu verstehen. Wir konnten uns auch nicht sehen, wie wir durch die Augen unserer Nachbarn aussehen. Während der Brexit-Debatten sahen wir eine starke Romantisierung der britischen Geschichte (wobei die schlechten Aspekte weggelassen wurden). Zum Beispiel, hat Winston Churchill Europa im Zweiten Weltkrieg wirklich im Alleingang und ohne die Unterstützung anderer gerettet?

Ich habe kürzlich Lyndal Ropers Buch über den Deutschen Bauernkrieg von 1525 gelesen und war beeindruckt, wie leicht und selektiv ich die Geschichte der Reformation gelernt hatte. Damals nahmen tausende Menschen Luther ernst, wenn er von der „Freiheit“ des Christen sprach, doch die Folgen davon führten zu Rebellion und Massakern. Hat Luther das wirklich beabsichtigt, als er seine Theologie der christlichen Freiheit schrieb? Nach 1989 wie schätzen wir Thomas Müntzer ein?

Natürlich kann Vergessen Segen und Fluch zugleich sein. Zwar ist es wichtig, dass wir uns an unsere Geschichte erinnern – mit all ihren Schattenseiten –, aber es ist ebenso wichtig, dass wir nicht in Erinnerungen gefangen bleiben. Ich bin in Liverpool aufgewachsen, ganz in der Nähe von Nordirland, wo Erinnerungen an Missstände und Konflikte im 17en Jahrhundert in Form von Bomben, Schießereien und religiösem Hass lebendig hielten. Jeder sah sich als Opfer. Diese Art des Erinnerns schafft keinen Raum für positive Lösungen sozialer Krisen oder Veränderungen; vielmehr sperrt sie uns in einen Kreislauf aus Gewalt und Opferrolle.

Die Bibel ruft uns also dazu auf, uns an unsere Geschichte zu erinnern – nicht unbedingt zu unserem Vorteil, sondern damit wir ehrlich bleiben. Paulus, dessen Schriften Martin Luther die Augen für die Macht der Gnade Gottes öffneten, wusste, dass die biblische Geschichte uns lehrt, dass Gottes Verständnis für uns wichtiger ist als unser Verständnis von Gott. Doch Gnade kann uns nur erfassen, wenn wir die Demut besitzen, uns ehrlich zu erinnern, der Realität ins Auge zu sehen (nicht irgendeiner Fantasie eines goldenen Zeitalters) und unsere Vorurteile und Urteile der Linse der Heiligen Schrift zu unterziehen, die klar macht, dass unsere Berufung darin besteht, den Herrn, unseren Gott, mit ganzem Herzen, ganzem Verstand und ganzer Kraft zu lieben … und unseren Nächsten wie uns selbst. Dieser Forderung kann man sich nicht entziehen. Es gibt keine Ausnahmen.

Wenn ich die Schriften Martin Luthers lese, denke ich immer an den Propheten Jona, der das Wort des Herrn hörte, es nicht mochte und deshalb davonlief. Dabei nahm er Gott und die Heilige Schrift ernst. Er war nicht gleichgültig: Im anglikanischen Gottesdienst sagt der Leser: „Dies ist das Wort des Herrn.“ Und die Gemeinde antwortet: „Gott sei Dank.“ Und dann machen wir weiter mit der Liturgie, ohne uns mit dem Text und seinen Implikationen auseinandersetzen zu müssen. Luther sagt: „Nein, wir dürfen das Wort Gottes ablehnen … aber nicht ignorieren.

Sowohl Jona als auch Luther verstanden die Logik des biblischen Textes: Wenn ich die Gnade Gottes empfangen habe, muss ich ein Leben in Gnade führen und anderen Gnade anbieten … ob ich denke, dass sie es verdienen oder nicht.Und deshalb sind die Ansprüche des christlichen Evangeliums nicht nur für den Einzelnen, sondern auch für Gesellschaften, die sich in irgendeiner Weise als christlich bezeichnen, so herausfordernd.

Und hier wird es etwas klarer. Jeder von uns hat eine eingeschränkte Sicht. Rückblick ist etwas Wunderbares.

Eines Tages kam eine kleine Fledermaus zurück in die Fledermaushöhle geflogen. Sie sah schrecklich aus:  Ihr Mund und ihre Zähne waren voll Blut. Die anderen Fledermäuse fragten erwartungsvoll: ‚Hast du etwas gefunden?! Zeig uns, wo!‘ ‚Lasst mich in Ruhe, ich habe Kopfschmerzen.‘ Wieder sagen sie: ‚Wo, wo warst du? Was hast du gefunden?‘… Schliesslich sagt die kleine Fledermaus: ,OK, OK, kommt mit.‘ Sie fliegen aus der Höhle, die kleine Fledermaus voran, tausende hinter ihr her. Sie fliegen einen Hügel hinauf, hinunter ins Tal, über den nächsten Hügel, rund um den nächsten Hügel, dann sehen sie einen Wald vor sich. Die Fledermaus stoppt, schwebt in der Luft. Tausende erwartungsvolle Fledermäuse hinter sich. Die kleine Fledermaus sagt: ‚Seht ihr den Wald da?‘ ‚Ja, ja, ja!‘ Seht ihr die Bäume im Vordergrund da unten?‘ ‚Ja, ja, ja!‘ Habt ihr den grossen Baum links vom Wald gesehen?‘ ‚Ja, ja, ja!‘ ‚Ich eben nicht!‘

Deshalb ist die Bibel so eindeutig, dass Theologie untrennbar mit Demut verbunden sein muss. Wir sehen nicht alles klar. Die Voraussetzung der Gnade ist Demut, nicht Arroganz und Selbstgerechtigkeit.

Also, aus diesem Predigttext ziehe ich folgende Fragen:

Erstens: Wie erziehen wir unsere Kinder, so dass sie Gott, die Welt und sich selbst durch eine biblische Linse betrachten? Sie werden eine solche Weltanschauung nicht durch Zufall oder Osmose erwerben.

Zweitens: Wie können wir in einer Welt des radikal säkularen menschlichen Individualismus die Rituale aufbauen, die eine Glaubensgemeinschaft bilden – von selbstbewussten, demütigen Christen, die den Unterschied zwischen der Anbetung Gottes und der Anbetung des Kaisers erkennen?

Mit großer Dankbarkeit gegenüber meinen Schwestern und Brüdern in vielen Teilen der Welt – insbesondere im Sudan, Irak, Deutschland – gehe ich bald in den Ruhestand. Ich werde mich weiterhin mit diesen Fragen auseinandersetzen. Die Geschichte der Gnade Gottes ist nicht zu Ende.

Im Namen des Vaters, des Sohnes und des heiligen Geistes. Amen.

This is the script of this morning’s Pause for Thought on the BBC Radio 2 Breakfast Show with Scott Mills.

Well, this is going to be embarrassing, but I’ll go for it anyway.

The two telly programmes I have to watch these days are Strictly and The Traitors. If I’m out at the wrong time, I catch them later on iPlayer. So far so good. But, the embarrassing bit is that I can’t help but imagine myself taking part.

Now, dancing and me do not go together easily. A bit like horses flying. I was once in Khartoum in Sudan in a church service in 38 degree heat, the music playing and everybody dancing. I was robed as a bishop, standing behind the altar when my friend Ezekiel, the bishop of Khartoum, said to me: “Bishop, now we dance.” I replied: “Now you dance; I’ll pray for you.” At which point he grabbed my arm, pushed me forward and I shuffled with one hand in my pocket – a sort of dad dance – while he had rhythm.

So, I think Strictly is off the cards. No audience should have to watch that. Then there’s The Traitors. I’d be as hopeless as the rest of them at identifying the actual traitors. But, the fun bit would be being a traitor and not a faithful. And that wouldn’t go down well with my day job: lying, betraying and murdering are not in my job description, are they.

There’s no harm in imagining, though, is there? In fact, sometimes it’s really important to imagine ourselves into someone else’s skin. Not in order to play pretend games, but because imagination is the key to empathy. When Jesus told his friends they were to love their neighbour as themselves, he knew that this would begin with imagining what the ‘neighbour’s’ life was like: what life would sound like through their ears and look like through their eyes and feel like through their skin. Only then can we know how to speak and listen and behave if we want our neighbour to know they are loved.

So, with Strictly out and The Traitors too awkward, maybe I should apply for something else. Like playing for Liverpool on Match of the Day.

This is the script of this morning’s Thought for the Day on BBC Radio 4’s Today programme.

Yesterday, for the first time in half a millennium the English monarch and the Pope prayed together in Rome. For many people this was a profoundly significant moment; for others it was probably a non-event. But, I wonder what viewers thought was actually going in the Sistine Chapel.

Well, much has been made of the symbolism of the event itself – a visible reconciliation as Pope and King listened to music and readings that quietly emphasise the ultimate accountability of powerful people to God – every person being made in the image of God. In other words, the content of what was said and done was as important as the symbolism. It wasn’t merely an act or an empty gesture. Prayer is not neutral – especially in a place that holds the judgment of God in exquisite art.

I watched it and couldn’t escape the power of articulated accountability. The trappings of glory, the glory of art, the beauty of music; and, yet, the words all spoke of humility. Here a pope is not the ultimate head of a church. A king is not the ultimate power of a state. Power must always be rooted in the humble recognition that the most powerful people on the planet are themselves held accountable – in my view to God – for their words, actions and decisions.

If power can easily corrupt, then prayer can slowly change us for the better. For prayer opens space for us to tell God – and each other – the deepest longings of our heart … even when we know that this has as much to do with wishful thinking as it does hope for change or deliverance from bad stuff. Prayer is the space where we can be true – even about our worst instincts and emotions. Just read the Psalms with their raw honesty.

However, as I have got older I have realized that prayer is less about changing God’s mind than having mymind changed by exposure to God. In this sense, prayer means shutting up and listening, facing the reality of God, the world and myself. Saying the Lord’s Prayer leads me to uncomfortable reflection: if I want God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven, then what do I have to do to help that happen? How or what do I need to change in order to be the answer to that prayer?

In this sense, prayer is about exposing myself to God’s character and light, rejecting hypocrisy, being stripped back, and discovering that repentance – literally ‘changing my mind’, looking and seeing through God’s eyes – is a massive, challenging and transformative gift. Even for kings and popes.

This is the script of this morning’s Pause for Thought on BBC Radio 2’s Breakfast Show with Scott Mills.

Get this: this day in 2016 Leonard Cohen released his last album You Want it Darker -only 17 days before he died. Now, was he being serious or having a bit of a laugh? Cohen had written songs and poetry for decades, and many of them dealt with matters of living and dying. He sometimes seemed to be surprised at still being here – and he loved being wittily funny about the deepest things.

His voice isn’t to everybody’s choice – deep, slow and often ironic. But, I love it – a voice that has been lived in. I saw him in Manchester when he was 80 and had a fantastic band. But, he kept kneeling down and thousands of us held our breath to see if he’d manage to get up again. He was old, but very live.

Perhaps his most famous lines are: “Let the bells ring out. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything – that’s how the light gets in.” He knew what it was to be cracked, and he made no excuses. But he also couldn’t be miserable. In the live show, between two songs, he drawled about how he had tried all the religions (he listed them) and a string of drugs (he named them); then, after a pause, he smiled and whispered: “But, joy kept breaking through!”

You can see why I’m a fan. Like many, many people, Cohen longed for a life of meaning, depth and holiness … in the sense of open honesty with God, himself and the wider world. His relationship with God was constantly ambivalent as he struggled to reconcile faith and suffering.

You might think it odd that I am praising such a man. Shouldn’t I hold up an example of strong faith? Well, no. The Bible is a long record of people like Leonard Cohen who struggle to be true, to get it right, knowing his own weakness and human fragility. No pretence; no sham idealism; just authentic living and dying, with joy breaking in.

You want it darker? If it sounds like this, yes.

This is the script of this morning’s Pause for Thought on BBC Radio 2’s Breakfast Show with Scott Mills.

Bob Dylan is coming to Leeds next month and this has caused me an existential crisis.

I went to see him last year in Liverpool, but he’s now extended his ‘Rough & Rowdy Ways’ tour … and I can’t decide whether or not to see him doing the same set list again. To be honest, how can I justify the expense at a time when I’m preparing to retire two weeks later and do the costly move back to Liverpool?

So, yesterday I decided to listen to the album again – as brilliant as it was the first time I heard it. But, this time, the opening verse of the first song hit me afresh: “Today, and tomorrow, and yesterday, too / The flowers are dyin’ like all things do.”

Cheerful, eh? A great way to start a Tuesday morning on Radio 2!

But, Dylan has never bothered about when or where or how people hear his music. He tells the truth and leaves it up to us – adults – to make of it what we will. And in the opening lines of this album he sets the context for everything that follows. Because the truth behind almost every song ever played on Radio 2 is that time rolls on, we all get older, the seasons change, and we are all very mortal. It’s always been the same … but we sometimes try to avoid it – hoping we can stay young and beautiful for ever.

Well, the good news is this: being aware of how fragile and transient life is should make us enjoy it more – live it more fully. Eloquent poets and wild-eyed prophets wrote three thousand years ago about how the grass withers and the flowers fade. But, they weren’t gloomy or miserable! They knew how to live – and how to enable others to live abundantly, too.

In another song Dylan sings: “Be reasonable, mister, be honest, be fair / Let all of your earthly thoughts be a prayer.” Well, my simple prayer today is: amid the uncertainties and as everything changes, may love be the constant thread.

Still can’t decide about the Leeds gig.

This is the script of this morning’s Thought for the Day on BBC Radio 4’s Today programme.

There once was an ugly duckling … whose story improved with the telling. The man who wrote that story, Hans Christian Andersen, died 150 years ago this month, but his stories live on. When I heard these – ‘The Little Mermaid’, ‘The Snow Queen’, and so on – when I was a child, I just took them as stories. Coming back to them decades later I realized that they were really for adults.

The imagination that writers bring to their art is crucial. What was clear from Andersen himself is that he was primarily and essentially a good listener. He knew that understanding and imagining begins with attentive listening. I guess everyone knows what it is like to have a conversation with someone who is interested only in themselves and shows no interest in listening to you.

Good listening. This is true not only of artists, but of politics, religion, and just about all walks of life. I am a Christian and worked originally as a professional linguist. Being a linguist means learning to listen, to understand what is being said by someone else. Only then can I begin to interpret in a language understood by another. Interpreting does not mean necessarily agreeing with what is being said, but enabling the other party to hear and understand it anyway. The interpreter has to learn by listening.

And this also goes to the heart of what it means to be a Christian: listening to the culture, digging deeper into meaning and intention, being careful not to use language that obscures rather than opens up. Reading the Bible daily is a discipline of listening to what is sometimes a challengingly different way of seeing God, the world and us. So, to speak biblically is not merely to offer an opinion.

I would love to know what Presidents Trump and Putin’s interpreters made of the private conversations in Alaska on Friday. They will be people who read both the Washington Post and Pravda. Only by careful listening can they calibrate reality and comprehend how what is being said by one party might be heard and grasped by the other.

This is where religion might have something to offer politics. Not only must I read the Bible (and wrestle with it), but I also have to read the times (with a small ‘t’). This demands a humility – that the languages being spoken might not be entirely within my competence. When I speak with Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or secular humanist friends I know I cannot fully understand what it is to live in their skin. I can only use my imagination to try.

As Hans Christian Andersen insisted: it all begins with good listening.

This is the script of this morning’s Thought for the Day on BBC Radio 4’s Today programme.

It’s not just what we say that matters, but also how we say it.

Every day in Parliament begins with the Lord’s Prayer. It will be said daily by millions of Christians and in most church services. But, how we say it reveals what we really think it means.

So, for example, should I stress “Your kingdom come” or “your kingdom come”?

I think it should be the former, with the stress on the “your”. Why? Because there are plenty of other kingdoms on offer and vying for dominance. When Jesus taught his friends to pray this way, you could get executed for claiming that anyone other than Caesar was ‘the Lord’. To pray “your kingdom come” was potentially – or maybe even essentially – seditious.

This isn’t a merely religious question. Whose kingdom we choose to serve has real-world consequences. For some people, it means protesting against the state or the law, thus coming into conflict over what they believe is more fundamentally right than what the dominant culture allows. Those taking part in protests against the proscription of Palestine Action are counting the cost of this ethical choice.

At the end of October this year I will be preaching in the Augustinerklosterkirche in Erfurt. This is the church where Martin Luther was ordained as a Roman Catholic priest. It was at the centre of the Reformation and the subsequent Peasants’ War of 1525. It is a town whose prison held opponents to the Nazis and Soviet Communists. The walls bear witness to the choices ordinary people made about whose kingdom should have the priority – the prevailing political masters (Caesar) or the kingdom of God as lived out in Jesus of Nazareth?

This is also the epicentre of the AfD (Alternative für Deutschland), the Far Right party growing in electoral popularity. What should I be saying in October on Reformation Day to a congregation comprising people whose assumptions about God’s kingdom will be conflicted? I have an old photograph from another Thuringian town, Jena, of several thousand Nazis protesting against an academic Old Testament theologian who wouldn’t tow the official line. Not a light decision for that man, but one that reveals what he meant when he prayed for the coming of God’s kingdom in the Lord’s Prayer … and saw around him the nature of a different rule.

This theologian knew the Bible. He was shaped by the plea of the prophets that a state must be built on humanity, justice, mutual love and mercy. Anything else must, however quietly, be challenged.

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