All the kingdoms of the world for Christmas

I thought that while I have a little spare time before the Xmas celebrations I should write a Christmas blog entry. It's just speculation....

What was the voice of Christ like? How did Jesus tell his stories and parables? Was he expressive when he talked? Did his eyes sparkle?

How did Jesus tell the story of his encounter with the devil in the wilderness? The source of this gospel account, if it is to be believed, could only really have come from one person.  Jesus must have sat his disciples down and told them what happened when he went walkabout in the wilderness.

How do you approach a subject like that?

“You have no idea what happened to me when I was in the wilderness...”

“What happened, Lord?”

“I encountered the devil himself...”

And did Jesus smile?

Or maybe, sitting around a fire one night Jesus waited for his disciples to ask him. That would, perhaps be more in character. A little more enigmatic.

“What happened, Lord, when you were in the wilderness?”

“I tell you the truth – my answer will make your ears tingle...”

Then, as Jesus told the story about how he had been tempted by the devil, how did the disciples react? How would anyone react to something like that? As he told them that the devil had offered him all the kingdoms of the world if he agreed to certain terms.

Perhaps the disciples were afraid of some horrific twist. Were they scared that Jesus had sold out? That he had made some kind of pact with their enemy?

But the source of the account must have come from Christ himself, if it is all true. Imagine you were listening to him telling that story. A story about an encounter with the devil and visions of the world and the way Jesus had resisted the devil. There must have been sighs of relief as he told of how he had refused to give in to corruption.

How would you react to a story like that told by a man like Jesus? Would you have questioned further? Would you have believed it? Would you question if evil personified exists – or if it is some kind of psychological projection from within? Or believed it was some kind of allegory? Or hallucination?

Perhaps we have no opportunity to know what the voice of Jesus was like or how he told his parables and stories. But today, we do have a choice whether to believe those accounts or not.

And if Christ looked straight at you as he finished his account, would his eyes sparkle brighter than all the kingdoms of the world?

The Medusa Kind

I've hastily written a short story for the blog for Halloween this year. As with all my stories it doesn't carry any particular meaning or moral message. I hope you like it....

There are all kinds of darknesses. The fear the four privileged Oxford students felt that Halloween night was real enough. They sat together in a rowing boat surrounded by whispers, winds and shadows.

They were dressed in Halloween costumes and masks fresh from a party. And the boat and the lake had seemed like a good idea after some drinks, despite the cold.

Jason, the unofficial leader of the group, rowed them across the lake. The darkness of the waters seemed to saturate their souls like a chill, like the cold itself. The lake was surrounded by woods, and was much further out than their main university grounds.

And the curtain between worlds was as secure as a shroud (so they felt). The moon, waning, cast her comforting spell of light. It was not the only spell to be cast that night.

The whole atmosphere shifted, like the sudden singing of a lament. Like a turning down of the lights. Helen and Simon, the other two students held each other close.

Zoe, Jason’s girlfriend, screamed suddenly. Across the surface of the lake they all watched as a figure approach them, walking on the water.

"It's a ghost," said Helen, grabbing Simon’s hand.

"There are no ghosts!" replied Jason. Jason didn’t believe in anything supernatural. He believed in logic, reason, Dawkins and hedonism.

But it was a ghost. Of a kind.

Its eyes blazed red, like an old digital clock (something so ancient that it was before even the internet).

For now its head was lowered. But as it approached, the students could see its hair moving like a black nest of snakes.

And when it reached them, the four students wondered how providence, once so kind, could allow what was happening to them to take place.

The ghost spoke to them in a siren-call, like the wild song of a high wind.

"You realize that tonight is Halloween?"

"Of course," replied Jason, turning away instinctively to avoid the red eyes.

"And by taking part in Halloween you are in fact worshiping evil."

Jason spoke up:”There is no devil. And there is no God. They are myths.”

The figure simply stood there, on the dark waters.

Jason continued: “Oh come on, we aren't worshiping evil, we’re just trying to have a laugh."

"A laugh?" whispered the ghost, "Isn't there enough evil in the world already? You are worshiping death and the devil along with the rest of your people. As a result you must be punished for not worshiping the true God. As a result the whole country will be judged, starting with you."

 “So you're a Gorgon type ghost, right?” asked Simon, “And you turn people into stone?”

“Medusa's tribe did that,” said the ghost. “Aren't her offspring allowed to use their imaginations a little? Must it always be stone? Each of us can turn creatures into a different substance. Some can turn them into ruby, emerald or sapphire. Some can turn them into metals, copper, gold and silver. One of us is known to change people into glass.”

All of a sudden the ghost sounded very sad and lonely. It had existed long before Christianity. Wind swept around its snake hair.

“Some are destined to make the hearts of their victims grow so very cold. And this is the source of the evil-eye of folklore.”

Jason was secretly attempting to row away from the whole situation, but the boat was suddenly immovable, as if sin-chains anchored it to the lake floor. Meanwhile Zoe was fumbling for her iphone. She had a plan – if she could select the camera function and reverse the camera then the gorgon-ghost would see its own reflection and be destroyed.

"Wait a minute!" shouted Helen. "At Christmas we meet up and go to the midnight cathedral service and sing hymns! And we do it consciously. So we do worship God. At Halloween we try to have fun but we don't consciously try to worship the devil!"

The ghost smirked. "I'm afraid that doesn't change the way you are," it said.

Zoe found her iphone, pressed the camera app and reversed the view. Then she raised her mobile high. Triumphantly. But suddenly, horribly, the boat shook with a treacherous gust of wind and the iphone fell from Zoe’s hand into the water. They all watched as its dim light was extinguished in the depths like hope dying.

And the ancient ghost lifted its head.

So the land’s judgment began there. The ghost caught the eyes of each student. And each of them felt their blood freeze as their hearts turned as cold as ice and snow. Then, like snowflakes their bodies simply blew away in the pummel of the October wind.

And a further darkness filled the country, like the opening of a Pandora's Box. As if a multitude of furies had been released from storehouses, like snowflakes, each unique. Like an army of cruel ironies, intimate and individual in their messages of death. So that the hearts of the people grew colder.

And the ancient ghost stood in the middle of the darkness and laughed a wild siren-song, knowing that All Saints Day with her gentle mercies would never come.

There are all kinds of darknesses.

Christopher Lee Power's story

Some people are born with all the lucky breaks. For example, take the children of famous actors who want to become actors themselves. But what if you want to become an actor and all you have is raw talent? What if, on top of that you are born into a poor family and have a speech impediment?

Actor Christopher Lee Power knows adversity. Life hasn't been easy and he has had to work hard. He has a past which includes being the victim of sexual abuse, an involvement with drugs, gang life and crime. In the late 70’s and early 80’s he made what he says were some foolish choices. Imprisoned for robbery he paid for his mistakes by serving a prison term.

“I was oblivious to the dangers of drugs, excessive drinking and gambling and the consequences of that lifestyle. It was a vicious circle for any young teenager. Stealing to feed the addictions became the path that I took. I was frustrated and angry, looking for a way out, looking for attention and acceptance. Turning to teenage gangs and stealing was not the answer but that's the choice I made and I paid the price.”

And it was in prison that his life began to change. With nowhere to turn he prayed to God and asked God to help him. Something changed for Christopher from that time because when he left prison he not only joined a church, but also went into education again and learnt about life, about society, art and drama. He spent years in training to become an actor in professional acting schools including RADA. Since then he has appeared in Coronation Street, played war poet Wilfred Owen, done Shakespeare and has even had a book of his life published called 'Breaking Free'.






Now he wants to help those who are caught up in crime and drugs.

“I want to inspire other young people that they too could break free from the lifestyle I am familiar with. And to say that anyone, no matter what background they come from can follow their dreams. My dream is to see a film of my book.”

You could say he is making a stand. But it's a dream that needs support. It's a dream which has a whole new set of adversities. Christopher needs funding and all kinds of help for his project. It's a project which would make a difference in society, giving people the hope they need to change their lives for the better. Helping others to fulfill their own dreams. And it's a dream which could snowball into something amazing.

Anyone who can help Christopher in any way to make Breaking Free, please contact him at cpower@talktalk.net.

Light sources - two narratives

The Orrery (1765) Joseph Wright

The Adoration of the Shepherds (1646) Rembrandt

On Fire

By now the Olympic torch is so much of a celebrity that it has its own agent and gives out regular press releases: 'I shall be visiting Staffordshire. Watch me being carried along by the lesser celebrities The Wanted.'

You really have to suffer to see any kind of celebrity. By the fourth rain downpour I was soaked through.

Just as long as no-one got in the way for the photos....

Out of the way! (I think I know what the 'W' stands for on the back of the cameraman's top).

Of course, I was able to grab a quick interview as the celebrities passed by. Here is my exclusive:

"So, Olympic flame. How does it feel to be carried by The Wanted?"

"Άφησέ με ήσυχο."

"Excuse me?"

"I travel all the way from Greece and you demand I speak English? Lucky for fools like you, I'm multi-lingual."

"What will go through your mind when you reach the Olympic stadium?"

"Who the Hades are you? I'm on fire. I will be thinking of setting the world alight."

"What if you go out?"

"Nothing can stop me. Not even the end of the world."

"Have you got any post-Olympic plans?"

"I have a little condominium on a Greek island where I plan to spend my golden years."

"In this economy how can you justify that kind of luxury. Are you a white elephant?"

"Do I look like an elephant? I will be giving hope to millions. I will be setting a burning desire in the hearts of souls throughout nations. I will stir up the best instincts in men, women and children."

"What would you say to people who say the past Olympics were much better?"

"I would say that the children of today will say the same thing."

"If the world doesn't end?"

"No-one's talking about the end of the world, shut up fool, I have an important job to do. I'm on fire."

"One last question. How do you get up from an all time low?"

But before I knew it both The Wanted and the Olympic torch had passed by.

Celebrities

Max from The Wanted

Stranded in Eternity

Stranded in Eternity - a new short story by Nick White coming soon.

The Hollow Statue

The Hollow Statue - a new short story by Nick White coming soon.