White privilege

Perhaps I might dedicate this post to the PM and all his coalition mates.

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Myth, par excellence.

Myth, par excellence.

 

Our intention is to gather
some suitably approved historians;
direct them to collect the stories,
interrogate the documents,
and compile them into a seamless narrative
(We will, of course,
be downplaying the embarrassing bits
and other parts that might discomfort us.)
Thus we shall create for ourselves a History
that we can be proud of.
With some further prodding and kneading,
some teasing-out and coaxing,
and with suitable invocations of the Divine,
we shall recite our story and rehearse it
until it solidifies into a Myth.
A real one, grand and inviolate,
upon which we can build
our tribe / religion / nation.

In ancient Israel,
a remembering meal
is appointed, prepared
and written into law.
This annual repast,
laden with food and symbol,
commemorates a journey
to freedom and nationhood;
one which is tragically interleaved
with dying and grief.
A Passover meal,
to celebrate a divine passing over;
salvation and life for the chosen ones.
For others, sorrow, bitterness
and death.

But that’s okay,
we will cope;
as long as nobody questions
the Myth.

 

 

© Ken Rookes 2014

Young Wesley does it again

A second Young Wesley post.

The strips are a reflection drawing upon various youth groups I have been associated with, from the 1960s onwards.

My first youth group, Ashby Methodist in Manifold Heights, Geelong, is holding a reunion in a couple of months. It was seminal in my own formation, and former members will note points of recognition.

This strip remains one of my favourites. The Magnolia room was known as the Mongolia room among youth group members. Most disrespectful. We never really did lay claim to a space of our own, but we did subject the congregation to some outrageous youth services. The urn is true, (and was true in a number of congregations that I have been associated with), and gave rise to the famous – and rare – Young Wesley tea towel

The congregation is now a part of Western Heights, a little up the road, having eventually united with the former Presbyterians more than a decade after church union. The old bluestone building continues its life as a mosque.