Slipping on peanut butter

Here’s a great bit of journalism on the mysterious death of dolphins in Cornwall:

There are several theories, including that the dolphins may have been upset by some sort of underwater disturbance.

So, er, the underwater creatures may – though we have no idea – have been upset by something under water that upset them.

I’m always reminded at times like this of my favourite bit in How to Get Ahead in Advertising:

Businessman 1: I see the police have made another lightning raid… Paddington drug orgy.
Priest: I suppose young girls was involved?
Businessman 1: (reading the newspaper) One discovered naked in the kitchen…breasts smeared with peanut butter. The police took away a bag containing 15 grams of cannabis resin… it may also contain a quantity of heroin.
Bagley: Or a pork pie.
Businessman 1: I beg your pardon.
Bagley: I said the bag may also have contained a pork pie.
Businessman 1: I hardly see a pork pie’s got anything to do with it.
Bagley: Alright then, what about a large turnip. It might also have contained a big turnip.
Priest: The bag was full of drugs.
Bagley: Nonsense.
Priest: The bag was full of drugs, it says so.
Bagley: The bag could’ve been full of anything. Pork pies, turnips, oven parts… it’s the oldest trick in the book.
Priest: What book?
Bagley: The distortion of truth by association book. The word is “may.” You all believe heroin was in the bag because cannabis resin was in the bag. The bag may have contained heroin, but the chances are 100 to 1 certain that it didn’t.
Businessman 1: A lot more likely than what you say.
Bagley: About as likely as the tits spread with peanut butter.
Businessman 2: Do you mind?
Priest: The tits WERE spread with peanut butter!

Dissenters: B

Baptists

The history of Baptism in Britain is a complicated one of division and subdivision – and subsequent union.

The main concept that unites them theologically is a belief in adult baptism, generally through immersion in water.

The movement has its origins in ANABAPTISM, but has long dissociated itself from that term.

Baptism is Britain is generally held to have been founded by John Smyth, a Church of England priest ordained in 1594 whose dissenting views led him to flee to Holland.

There, in around 1609, he issued a declaration of faith stating the two main doctrines of Baptism to be: “to receive all their members by baptism upon the confession of their faith and sins”; and “baptism in no wise appertaineth to infants”.

Early members were champions of religious freedom for all. Smyth died in 1612, but his followed Thomas Helwys returned to England and founded the first General Baptist church in Spitalfields.

The name ‘general’ came from a belief in general atonement, ie salvation being possible for anyone receiving faith in Christ.

This theology led to a split only 20 years after the Baptists were founded, with Particular Baptists founding c1633 and adopting a Calvinist viewpoint of predestination, ie salvation only available to the ‘elect’.

Both groups were persecuted under Charles II, then given freedom to worship under the Toleration Act of 1689. In 1770, the General Baptists split into the New Connexion under Dan Taylor, with the old church moving to a Unitarian theology.

Meanwhile, Particular Baptists split into Strict or Reformed Baptists, though there were some overlaps. The Strict Baptists held to ‘strict’ or closed communion, ie open only to baptised believers (John Bunyan was a Particular Baptist exception to this rule).

The Strict Baptists had no formal structure, but key figures included William Gadsby, John Kershaw and John Warburton, all active in the mid 19th century.

The Reformed Baptists, meanwhile, were of the ‘particular’ persuasion, and held to the First London Baptist Confession of 1644 or the 1689 Baptist Confession of Faith.

In 1813, the Baptist Union was founded, bringing most Particular Baptists together under one umbrella. The General Baptists were only united with them in 1891.

The Union has three core principles, namely belief in Jesus, baptism, and evangelism. Needless to say there are still some baptist groups not part of the Union, and a full genealogy of Baptism, if such a thing is possible, would require a very complicated diagram.

Barrowists

Henry Barrow (or Barrows, or Barrowe) lived in the second half of the 16th century, and was an early separatist from the Church of England.

He initially trained as a lawyer, then was profoundly influenced by a sermon he heard c1580 and became a strict Puritan. He joined the congregation of leading separatist John Greenwood, but was imprisoned himself when visiting Greenwood in the Clink in London.

Barrow spent six years in the Fleet Prison, where he wrote religious tracts and denounced the bishops as oppressors. Barrow advocated the end of the Church’s elaborate hierarchy in favour of a simple structure based around elders.

He and Greenwood were executed in 1593. Many of their followers went to the Netherlands, and others became founders of the Congregational Church of New England.

Behminists

English Behminists were 17th century followers of the German Lutheran mystic Jakob Boehme, who died in 1624 and held that the Fall was a necessary part of history.

Many of them later merged with the Quakers, or had Familist beliefs.

British Israelites

The notion that the British are descended from one or more of the Lost Tribes of Israel is somehow a, well, very British one, perhaps fuelled by a desire to connect this largely Celtic green and pleasant land to the somewhat distant world of the Middle East in a meaningful way.

British Israelism is not a specific sect or organisation so much as an idea that took root probably in the 17th century, then flowered a century or so later – though specific organisations have of course sprung up since.

British Israelites often lay claim to ancient documents that ‘prove’ the Israelite link, and a Dr Abade in Amsterdam asserted clearly in 1723 that if one seeks the lost tribes, one should look in Britain. In the 1790s, Richard Brothers declared he was directly descended from King David, and that most ‘true’ Jews were in fact Europeans.

The man generally regarded as the leading pioneer of these views, though, was the Rev John Wilson, who published Lectures on Our Israelitish Origin in 1840. He found parallels in English and Hebrew language and culture, and through his public lectures the idea gradually spread.

Wilson died in 1871, and Edward Hine and Edward Wheeler Bird took up the mantle, spreading the idea to the United States. Finally, in 1919 the British-Israel World Federation was set up, and it continues to this day.

In the States, the movement found harmony with the American Adventists under Herbert W Armstrong and his Worldwide Church of God, famed for its distribution of the Plain Truth magazine.

British Israelites go to great lengths to establish their heritage, finding signs of ‘Isaac’ in the word ‘Saxon’, making great weight of Joseph of Arimathea’s supposed voyage to Glastonbury, and even telling a legend that St Paul visited Britain. Some have also had some interesting views about the pyramids – but we’ll save those for P.

Brownists

The Brownists were followers of Robert Browne (c1550-1633) of Rutland, who became a leader of early nonconformist ‘separatists’ seeking a break from the Church of England.

He was influenced by the Cambridge-based neo-Calvinist Thomas Cartwright, then set up there and in London as a dissident preacher. In 1580/1, along with his right-hand man Robert Harrison, Browne attempted to set up a Congregational church in Norwich, with immigrant Dutch wool workers among his target audience.

In 1581 he was arrested for preaching without a licence (he had applied for one then torn it up), and later moved the congregation to Holland itself on the advice of his relative William Cecil.

In 1583 two former members of the Norwich congregation were alas tried and hanged for selling Browne’s writings, and Browne then tried to set up in Edinburgh – where he was again arrested.

Cecil later facilitated Browne’s reconciliation with the Church of England, and Browne recanted, becoming a school headmaster in Southwark and living to a ripe old age. In Twelfth Night, Shakespeare’s Andrew Aguecheek comments: “I would as lief be a Brownist as a politician.”

Bryanites (Bible Christian Church)

The Bible Christian Connection was founded in 1815 in Devon by one William O’Bryan and his 22 converts. O’Bryan was born William Bryant (but was keen to link to his Irish roots) in Cornwall in 1778, and became a keen Wesleyan preacher, spreading the word to wild corners of Devon and Cornwall previously untamed by Methodism.

His ardent and undisciplined approach led to him going it alone, but within a year he had 18 ministers and 1500 members on his side, with teams of both male and female itinerant preachers spreading the word further west to the Isles of Scilly and indeed to America.

In 1829 his despotic approach (including acquiring all church property in his own name) was rejected by them, however, and once again he went off on his own.

The movement itself continued to thrive, and by 1882 there were 300 ministers and 34,000 members, though in the US and Canada they later became absorbed by the United Methodists.

A similar process later occurred in Australia and Britain. O’Bryan continued to spread his message in America, and died in New York in 1868.

Will this do?

Five years on from the Personality Declaration Act 2009, we are in a position to evaluate the indubitable changes it has wrought on society.

A reminder of the background to the legislation – which itself obliges me at this point to declare my red status. Towards the end of 2008, the general populace was growing restless against the use of call centres for businesses to manage their customer relations. There was also a rising tide of complaints against shop floor staff in many retail outlets having no clear interest in or knowledge of the products they were selling (in the cases where they had not been replaced by electronic information points and automated tills).

In a White Paper, communications analyst James McCully proposed that customer service, from both sides of the fence, would be rendered much more effective if the customer were able to determine the level of sincerity of the salesperson or support operative and their personal investment in the matter in hand. He further proposed the use of Myers-Briggs Type Indicators, then still in vogue with human resources professionals, and ran trials in a number of large utility companies where software was used to determine the broad emotional nature of a calling customer (their emotional state was indicated by detecting stress patterns in the voice). The operative then appointed to handle the enquiry was chosen according to their own MTBI profile and how likely it was that they could help the customer (or get rid of them) without further emotional escalation.

To everyone’s surprise, the experiment was generally successful in terms of customer retention – but in practice around 80% of the work was allocated to only 20% of the customer service operatives. Only those with certain personality traits were likely to achieve a positive outcome.

The reader is likely to recall the next stage, a radical simplification of this process where all workers in a public-facing capacity – whether in person, online or as a skypist – were obliged to declare their ‘enthusiasm’, with the use of a statement such as ‘I am obliged to tell you I am personally invested in this company/product’, or its counterpart ‘NOT personally invested’. As with the MBTI experiment, the ratio of the former to the latter was something in the region of four to one. However, the new system threw up successful outcomes, even with the operatives ‘not invested’.

The simple reason was that customers could relate to an operative ‘just doing their job’ (as many were in the same situation in their own workplace) and forgive the lack of interest. To start with there were headlines along the lines of ‘STAFF URGED NOT TO BE BOVVERED’, but when the policy was enshrined in legislation, the journalists themselves were obliged to declare their motivation or lack thereof, and the threat of hypocrisy soon ironed out controversy.

The further simplification in 2012 of this system into a ‘traffic light’ system of ‘green’ and ‘red’ status (for enthusiasm or lack of it respectively) was even more popular and avoided the unwieldy jargon of ‘personal investment’ – although some foreign visitors for the Olympic Games were no doubt somewhat baffled.

Although ‘red’ staff achieved higher levels of customer satisfaction than hitherto, naturally the ‘greens’ remained more popular where detailed information or assistance was required, and they began to attract higher salaries. The occasional cases where members of the red group attempted to fake a green personality were soon weeded out with advances in the burgeoning field of neurorecruitment. Whether the minority of highly paid, ever-smiling and persistently helpful workers retains this popularity is for the future to tell.

This article was written largely with the assistance of Wal*Martopedia, “the free encyclopedia anyone green can edit” (TM). It took 20 minutes to compile and I have been paid 30 euros.

Dissenters: A

Adamites

The original Adamites were early Christian heretics (some accounts say from the 2nd century, others the 4th) who believed that to achieve holiness they should return to the state of Adam and Eve – specifically, naked, unmarried and heedless of laws.

The practice reappeared in the Middle Ages. The Catholic Encyclopedia says that a 14th century group, the Picards in Bohemia, lived on an island and led a life of ‘shameful communism’.

The English Adamites first appeared in the London area – in their birthday suits, presumably – in 1641 (the year when the English episcopal system collapsed), presumably hoping that the Civil War would distract people from their eager naturism and sexual freedom.

Some unconfirmed accounts suggest the group was dominated by women – rather the opposite of modern nudist beaches.

Historian of Tudor sects David Cressy writes that they had “no spokesmen, no martyrs” and have thus been invisible to history’s radar – the only accounts we have of them are from jocular or critical pamphlets of the time.

One such says of them: “they will not hear the word preached nor have the sacrament administered to them but naked, not so much as fig-leaf breeches upon them, thinking thereby to imitate our first parents in their innocency”.

A writer named Bray claimed to have been taken in secret to an Adamite meeting, and wrote that if any of the male, er, members got overexcited, a clerk would “strike down the presumptuous flesh” with a long stick – which perhaps would have enflamed them further.

Cressy, however, believes that Bray made the whole thing up to titillate. Another account purports to relate an Adamite meeting in a park in Marylebone, with a sermon given by one Obadiah Couchman.

With no references at all, other than passing historical jokes, to the Adamites after about 1650, it’s hard to know whether they were hounded out, quietly put their clothes back on, or even didn’t exist at all except as propaganda to discredit other sectarian groups.

See also: GYMNOSOPHISTS (to come later in the series)

Anabaptists

Strictly speaking Anabaptists were a European phenomenon, forming small communities in the 16th century Reformation focused on brotherly love, the Word of God, adult rather than infant baptism, and civil disobedience – and opposed to Catholic theology and hierarchy, as well as Calvinistic predestination.

In Britain Anabaptism was often a term used loosely to cover any group adopting radical theology, and many were persecuted under Henry VIII – the Bible translator William Tyndale, burnt at the stake, was accused of Anabaptist sympathies, for example.

Many were weavers or other craftsmen. Prominent Anabaptists of the time included the Essex tanner and preacher Thomas Putto, and Henry Hart and Joan Butcher of Kent.

The latter was sentenced to death by Bishops Ridley and Latimer whose own burning at the stake five years later in 1555 is still commemorated in Oxford.

The last two heresy burnings in England were of Anabaptists Bartholomew Legatt and Edward Wightman in 1612.

Subsequently Anabaptism was known more for its influence on other groups, such as the Baptists, of course, who we’ll meet next time.

See also: FAMILISTS (to come later in the series)

Three steps to heaven

Somewhere on the web today a young graphic designer ranted about how they hate their clients and the work they have to do for them, and wanted to know how to earn money by doing things they love and respect (they had a startlingly high opinion of their own skills). Someone responded with Hugh McLeod’s wise Sex and Cash theory. Today I give you a restatement of this in the form of…

Hat’s Three-Step Plan for Fulfilment
1. Do things you don’t like for money.
2. Do things you like for free.
3. On the occasions when you get money for doing something you like, count yourself lucky.

Anyway, I’m off to the pub for lunch now.

A Dictionary of Dissent (intro)

One of the particularly British jokes in the film Monty Python’s Life of Brian, even if it is dressed up in a toga, is that about the rival groups: the People’s Front of Judea, the Judean People’s Front, the Judean Popular People’s Front – oh, and the rather lonely one-man Popular Front (“Splitter!”).

One of the groups is even clearly presented in the film as being Welsh.

Whether it’s the cold climate leading people to huddle together in small groups – or simply making them grumpy – or some native disposition to question orthodoxy, the history of Christianity in the British Isles (and forgive me for including Ireland in that geographical term) is one of disagreement.

The family tree of UK and Irish faith is riddled with bifurcations, branches, knots and twists – not to mention having a problem with squirrels.

It’s probably not feasible to say exactly how many different divisions of Christian groups there have been in these islands, but in researching this new series I’ve certainly found at least 50, and there are probably many more if one could identify every lonely hillside farmhouse where a charismatic old man with a beard has come up with a new twist on theology.

Down the years various terms have been used to describe the groups which have chosen to deviate from the main path of Anglicanism (we’ll limit ourselves to the era from the 16th century onwards), some more dismissive than others: recusants, dissenters and nonconformists are just three that have been used particularly in England.

Every term one might use is fraught with difficult connotations. Do we call them sects? That should just be a neutral term meaning a subdivision of a larger religious body – but also carries the baggage of being a ‘faction’ that is somehow awkward, unwelcome or… oddball.

Some groups have clearly made the grade to the grander term of ‘denomination’ – but they too have had their own history of ramification. In some cases, notably those of the Baptists and Methodists, old wounds have been largely healed, with General and Particular or Primitive and Wesleyan, for example, joining under one banner.

In others, small groups have split off like bacterial colonies, then dwindled without the oxygen of publicity or membership. Even today, new divisions can also open up: one thinks of Forward in Faith, for example.

In this Dictionary of Dissent, I’ll explore many different flavours of British and Irish Christianity over the last five centuries, from Adamites to Walworth Jumpers.

We’ll explore the history of religious disagreement sometimes with amused affection, but always with respect.

Perhaps that’s the one philosophy in these countries that underpins them all: an understanding that we all have a right to our opinion.

Heads have rolled in the past, but thankfully today it’s only the eyes that roll. I hope you enjoy the journey with me.

The music of the warming spheres

So, when I was coaxed out of the house last night, little did I know I’d end up discussing Borat with climate change guru Mark Lynas in a village pub.

It was after a talk he gave in the same village hall (Ramsden) where I went to a previous talk on climate change (which I wrote about here and here). Lynas is an excellent speaker and very accomplished at effortlessly marshalling bucketloads of data, as well as fielding complex questions without pause. He provides an admirably sane view of the whole issue, very much from the perspective of a scientist rather than a campaigner. My only worry is that he is over-optimistic about human psychology, ie a reliance on co-operation between nations (though I don’t really doubt that his solutions are at least possible). To me the issue smacks heavily of the prisoner’s dilemma, and the evidence from studies of that doesn’t suggest co-operation is a likely strategy for people in a world where fighting habitually takes precedence over common sense.

He’s also an entertainingly sarcastic sod, and it was fun talking with him. (I’ve only just discovered he was two years below me at Edinburgh, too). My lingering memory of the evening – other than the talk itself – is of the crazy, beer-filled notion of turning his book Six Degrees (a documentary version is being broadcast by National Geographic next week) into a musical. I can’t help thinking about it. It’s horrible, but it could almost work. Mark, get your people to talk to my people. Or, better, get them to sing.

I’m loading the gun now

So, in today’s post I had a letter from John Lewis, offering me insurance for our dishwasher two years after we bought it for ongoing “peace of mind”. Naturally, that the dishwasher might not have been covered any more has been nagging at me like something from Edgar Allen Poe, and it was only a matter of time before I went out and MURDERED SOMEONE WITH A TEASPOON when the pressure built up to an unbearable point.

But of course, what would really give PEACE OF BLOODY MIND is for people never ever ever ever to offer me insurance – which, like religion and charity-giving, I’m perfectly capable of seeking out when I bloody well want to, thank you, peace be with you.

So out of curiosity I googled for associations with the phrase “peace of mind” and the word insurance.

“peace of mind” insurance gives 1.98 million hits
“peace of mind” -insurance (ie excluding the latter term) gives 2.21m
“peace of mind” alone gives me 2.28m

I learn two things from this:
1. Insurance companies (or their copywriters) demonstrate a breathtaking embrace of cliché. Sadly this comes as no surprise.
2. Google can’t count, so it’s advanced search delimiters can’t really be trusted.

If someone could maybe insure me against Google giving me misleading results, perhaps then I would truly have peace of mind.

A-Z of Saints: X, Y and Z

Unsurprisingly, saints whose names begin with the letters X, Y or Z are few and far between, and fewer still have made any significant impact on the public consciousness.

Here, then, is a quick rundown of some of the more notable ones…

X

St Xanthippe/Xantippa (died late 1st century)
An alleged disciple of Paul who died in Spain; her devotions were frustrated by her husband who locked her up and threw Paul out, but she prayed he would fall asleep and bribed the porter to release her.
Memorial day: 23 September

St Frances Xavier (1850-1917)
A Basque nobleman, he embarked on an academic career but was persuaded by St Ignatius of Loyola to spread the Gospel, and became the first Jesuit missionary. He is said to have baptized more than 40,000 people in India, Japan and the East Indies.
Memorial day: 3 December
Patronage: missionaries

Sts Thomas Xico and Peter Xukexico (d.1597)
These were two of the 26 ‘Nagasaki Martyrs’, a group of missionaries and their converts in japan who had an ear cut off and were then crucified for refusing to renounce their faith. Xico was a pharmacist with an angry nature, calmed on becoming a Franciscan; Xukexico was arrested for ministering to other imprisoned Christians.
Memorial: 6 February

Y

St Yriex (c.510-591)
Perhaps the most unpronouneable saint, also known more conveniently as Aredius – he was a Frenchman converted after a dissolute youth, and a dove hovered above his head for 30 days. Several regions of France are named after him.
Memorial day: 25 August

St Yves of Kermartin (1253-1303)
This Breton nobleman became a lawyer noted for defending the poor free of charge, also known for his asceticism. In later life he became a preacher and founded a hospital. He was also said to have performed a miracle by feeding hundreds with a loaf of bread.
Memorial day: 19 May
Patronage: lawyers and judges

St Joseph Yuen (1765-1817)
A Vietnamese priest, Yuen was imprisoned for a year and then murdered by strangulation. He is one of the ‘Martyrs of China’ canonized by Pope John Paul II.
Memorial day: 24 June (28 September as a Martyr of China)

Z

St Anthony Zaccaria (1502-1539)
Legends say that angels attended the altar at Italian nobleman Zaccaria’s first mass. He was a doctor and moral reformer. He died of natural causes, shortly after receiving a vision of St Paul.
Memorial day: 5 July

St Zenobius (d.417)
Zenobius was a Florentine pagan baptized as an adult, who went on to become Bishop of Florence. He is known for many miracles, including bringing five people back to life after they had died. The tower in the city where he is said to have lived is still decorated with flowers each year.
Memorial day: 25 May

St Zita (1218-1272)
Zita was from Lucca, Italy, and became a domestic servant at the age of 12, which she remained until her death. She often gave her own or her master’s food to the poor.
Memorial day: 27 April
Patronage: housemaids, lost keys, waiters and waitresses.