by Bob Dylan
In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed
There’s a dying voice within me reaching out somewhere
Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.
Don’t have the inclination to look back on any mistake
Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break
In the fury of the moment I can see the master’s hand
In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.
Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear
Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer
The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.
I gaze into the doorway of temptation’s angry flame
And every time I pass that way I always hear my name
Then onward in my journey I come to understand
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.
I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night
In the violence of a summer’s dream, in the chill of a wintry light
In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space
In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.
I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn, there’s someone there, other time it’s only me
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.
Let peace come down this Christmas
Upon a broken land
Let peace come down this Christmas time –
And lets all take a stand
Angel voices singing
On that Holy night
To lead us out of darkness
Into the path of light – the path of light
MP Mhairi Black, posting on Twitter on the night when UK MPs voted for war in Syria – “Very dark night in parliament. Will never forget the noise of some Labour and Tory cheering together at the idea of bombs falling.”
This will not be our finest hour: the dangerous rhetoric of war
Jill Segger December 7, 2015 – original article in Ekklesia Daily Bulletin here
We have to hope that committing a country’s armed forces to acts of war is one of the hardest decisions a politician ever has to make and one which makes the greatest demand on conscience. But observation makes it hard to rid oneself of a suspicion that many senior politicians have a not-so-secret desire to play the role of war leader.
Remember Margaret Thatcher in headscarf and goggles posing in the turret of a tank during the Falklands war? Tony Blair striving to look blokish and casual against a backdrop of bored-looking soldiers in Iraq? George Bush on the flightdeck of an aircraft carrier, sporting a USAF bomber jacket? And on Saturday (5 December), we saw the Defence Secretary, Michael Fallon at RAF Akrotiri with a fighter plane in soft-focus behind him, unable to suppress a smirk as he proclaimed: “We will hit them harder”. Read more…
A talk by Dr Mike Sanders, University of Manchester
at the launch of Liberty is Near!
the album of Chartist hymns put to music by Garth Hewitt
The following talk, given in three parts, was interspersed with performances of the Chartist hymns listed.
1) Hark, I Hear
2) Great God!
The song, or rather hymn, you have just heard – ‘Great God is this the patriot’s doom?’ – was written by the Leicester Chartist, John Henry Bramwich, for the funeral service of Samuel Holberry – an early Chartist martyr. At that funeral it was sung to the tune of the ‘Old Hundredth’ by Chartists who carried banners proclaiming “The Lord hateth the hands that shed innocent blood” and “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.” It was reprinted in The National Chartist Hymn Book, which is (as far as we know) the only surviving Chartist hymnal and which forms the basis for Garth’s latest album Liberty is Near!
But back to Samuel Holberry born in 1814 into a family of agricultural labourers. The youngest of nine children, he began his working life as an agricultural labourer before enlisting in the army aged 17. After four years service he left the army and moved to Sheffield where he worked as a cooper and then as a distiller. In October 1838 he married Mary and also became active in the Chartist movement. In the early hours of January 12th 1840 he was arrested as the leader of a planned uprising in Sheffield and subsequently sentenced to four years imprisonment in Northallerton prison – notorious as one of the harshest prisons in the country. While in prison, his young son (also called Samuel) died (a mere 18 weeks old), and he himself contracted tuberculosis. As a result of his illness, Holberry was moved to York Castle where he died, aged 27, on June 21st, 1842. His wife, Mary, had seen him once during his imprisonment.
The constable who arrested Holberry asked him “Surely you would not take a life?” To which Holberry replied, “But I would in defence of liberty and the charter. Mind, I am no thief or robber, but I will fight for the charter and will not rest until we have got it…”. Holberry had taken up arms in the name of Chartism and died an unrepentant Chartist. This prompts two questions – what was Chartism and why did it inspire such commitment in its followers?
The first question – what was Chartism – is deceptively easy to answer. Chartism (as Wikipedia tells us) “was a working-class movement for political reform in Britain between 1838 and 1848 which took its name from the People’s Charter of 1838.” The People’s Charter called for six reforms to make the political system more democratic:
- A vote for every man over the age of 21;
- A secret ballot;
- No property qualification for members of Parliament;
- Payment for MPs (so poor men could serve);
- Constituencies of equal size;
- Annual elections for Parliament.
In the 1830s and 1840s, most politicians, most intellectuals and most clergymen fiercely denounced these demands, arguing that if enacted they would bring about the collapse of civilisation. Read more…