Unity: Together, We Are Stronger As One

A belated Happy Thanksgiving to everybody in the United States. It is approaching that time of year when tempers all across the Christian world are stretched to breaking point (and sometimes beyond) as parents search for presents for their young ones; as families uneasily come together; and as the financial cost of celebrating the birth of the Lord our saviour Jesus Christ is counted.

Within my own family, there has always been a sense that these were only minor problems. The respect and the love which we held for one another could overcome all these problems. It struck me as quite socialist that the only way we could find our way through these issues was if we all came together: the love form us all could be channeled in to everybody enjoying a pleasant Christmas.

But Christmas is cancelled this year.

Well, not quite cancelled -- just postponed until twelve months time. We are almost a month away now from December 25, and the materialism of the capitalist system is coming out in full force once more. Once more the shops are full of over-priced tack. Once more the consumers are conned by the retailers into spending money they do not have. And once more the true meaning of Christmas is submerged by a thick, black ocean of material well-being.

This year my family is unable to spend the usual unnecessary pounds on on having a materialistic Christmas. I, as a student, have an overdraft limit of £1,000 and, over a month before, I'm £980.00 O.D. with no job and thus no income (the things I do for my education!). So this year, we will not be purchasing lavish gifts for each other. We will not be splashing out on the tack.

But that's alright because we have each other. Everybody who matters to me is going to be at my house this December 25. Everybody I have the utmost respect for will be there, and those who think they now mean nothing to me are welcome to come and ask for repentance. My favourite biblical quote: If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him. If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says 'I repent', forgive him. [Luke 17:3,4] The same goes for sisters.

Yours, wherever you may be,
Daniel C. Wright

My Week

This week feels though it has almost been a wasted week. But no entire week can ever be entirely wasted. I remember Ross once saying that sometimes it is good to completely burn out. Whilst I won't disagree, it is also good to take a step back. Since Good Friday, I have reverted back to old habits. I haven't really done anything. I haven't been anywhere or seen anything. I haven't acquired first hand experience of our transport system and haven't seen anything to suggest I have made a journey of any significance. All I have done is enjoyed the sunshine. I re-read James Baldwin's The Fire Next Time and am once again part-way through Claude Brown's Manchild In The Promised Land. As a first chapter, the opening section really is a baptism of fire into a world quite alien to me.

For two solid days I did very little but mess around on Facebook. This I consider to be a useless endeavour. Friends added me as a 'friend' and I added people as 'friends'. People who I haven't seen since High School (and who I truthfully hope never to see again) have listed me as 'friend'. I have pages of these 'friends' who I never even used to speak to at all at High School -- people who I am never in a million years going to actively make the effort to communicate with through Facebook.

But I spend most of the time searching the groups. I try and find humorous ones with a satirically important point: Petition To Revoke The Independence Of The United States Of America, for instance, or Virgin Media -- I Want My Sky Channels Back! or Belichick For President in 2008. Some of the groups I have joined are ridiculous: Everyone Loves A Guinness, for example. It sounds quite normal. It is, though, in the category Extreme Sports. Right, ok then.

I went up to the Church Wednesday evening and had a few drinks with the old crew. The few people from High School I actually get on quite well with. That night highlighted the false community created by Facebook. According to this 'social utility', everyone is friends. Sadly the real world does not work in such a harmonious Utopian manner. Our group was all sat together round two tables (there was not that many of us, the tables are small), talking and enjoying each other's company. I talked less than everyone else because..... I'm shy. Anyway, at the table next to us there sat another group of friends from my same year at school. At least one of them (possibly two) is/are listed as my friend(s) on Facebook. They did not bat an eyelid when I walked out there. And neither did I. I did not acknowledge there presence, and they did not acknowledge mine. The unspoken understanding of the clique was in full force Wednesday night. On the table next to them, there sat someone with whom I had a similar relationship. He was listed as a friend on Facebook, but we did not speak. The term 'friend' seems to have been redefined: friend, v. anyone from way back when who's name you vaguely remember and who you recall to be alright, though you not necessarily spoke to them way back when. Act of friendship no longer necessary. That would be a seemingly correct understanding of today's situation. Thanks, Facebook. In fact, I have just had a scary thought: if Facebook ran the world. If this was the case, we would have all been sat with each other round one large table Wednesday night. Ugh, a scary thought.

Yours, wherever you may be,
Daniel C. Wright