Author: flexanoel

A Deeper Drink than Water

| flexanoel

Listen to the talk here – recorded 18th May (NB moderate audio quality), or read below:

In John 4, Jesus is travelling through Samaria and encounters a Samaritan woman at an ancient well. Breaking all the rules to strike up a conversation, he then offers a gift she can’t turn down.

Setting the scene

John 4:1-6 describes how Jesus is travelling from Judea to the south of Samaria (which includes places like Hebron, Bethlehem and Jerusalem), to Galilee with its sea, and cities like Tiberius to the north. Samaria is not a place where Jewish people typically travelled. But the passage is simple and clear, “Now he had to go through Samaria”. So while many Jews would circumnavigate Samaria and take a longer route by the main roads (which would mean a significant diversion), Jesus simply had to go through it. We know that he was going to Galilee, and evidently by the shortest possible route – which was through Samaria. We also know that he was under pressure from the Pharisees who’d noticed that he was overtaking John [the Baptist] and therefore becoming a person of interest and possibly a threat. Time was of the essence, and conflict with the religious authorities wasn’t on the menu at that point. So let’s call this a tactical manoeuvre.

The next part of the story unfolds in John 4: 7-15:

“When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, ‘Will you give me a drink?’ (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, ‘You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?’ (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, ‘If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.’ ‘Sir,’ the woman said, ‘you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?’ Jesus answered, ‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’ The woman said to him, ‘Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.’”

Why stop there? (breaking social conventions)

Jesus was a rabbi, and therefore a devout Jew. People like him definitely didn’t interact with Samaritans. The Jewish people’s disapproval towards them was well documented and translated into animosity and outright hatred – they didn’t associate with each other at all. 

We can see this illustrated in Jesus’ story of the Good Samaritan elsewhere in the gospels. A Jewish man is beaten up by robbers and left on the road, not one of his fellow countrymen, not even righteous and religious men want to stop for him or risk befalling the same fate. Jesus tells this story of a good Samaritan who comes to his aid, which flies in the face of their attitudes towards this people group – a good Samaritan?! It’s an oxymoron. Let alone one who helps a Jewish man, paying for his care and tending to him. Jesus clearly wasn’t swayed or subject to the broader socio-religious-political biases towards Samaritans. And if anything he confronted them.

So Jesus and his disciples cut through Samaria, appearing to give it no thought. Time was short and common sense prevailed. It could cut a week off the journey between Judea and Galilee so that it took just three days instead. Perhaps they also realised that the Pharisees wouldn’t follow them through Samaria itself. And actually, I’d speculate that Jesus could have been traversing Samaria for years. He was raised in Nazareth in the north but his daily life and worship had led him to Jerusalem to the south of Samaria so it’s a route he’d very likely be familiar with already. 

For the son of God was there anywhere in Israel that he didn’t feel at home or that was off-limits?

But for Jews generally, Samaria was a place of transit – you were never stopping there, you were only ever (in extremis) passing through it. And otherwise you were going around it. Doing all you could to avoid interacting with the Samaritans. It’s human nature to avoid areas you might feel unsafe – in fact I did this the other night. Taking the long way back to the station via the main roads even though I could have cut through an estate – now that might sound sensible for a woman in London but I have no real evidence to suggest that I would have come to any harm.

Whatever the case, most interesting perhaps is the fact that:

Jesus stopped… in Samaria. 

Not only that, he stopped at near Mount Gerizim at Jacob’s Well.

And he’s about to have a full conversation with a Samaritan….a Samaritan Woman.

He had already ignored several rules and social conventions that day, including those that would have led him by a different route. Now he’s sitting by a historic well in the heart of Samaria. So what’s breaking a few more?

An education in identity

It’s noticeable that she is described solely by her ethnicity and gender – the Samaritan Woman. In our climate of identity politics, these sort of identifiers – these boxes we tick, are first and foremost. Still this is a noticeably reductive description of a person – we don’t know her name, but this is highly relevant to this story because of everything that Jesus is transgressing here. He’s breaking all sorts of religious, cultural, historical and social laws here. However, he is in perfect obedience to God.

For us, what might be the equivalent? Think of those cultural norms, conventions, principles of class or gender that might influence or govern our actions or daily decisions. Maybe without even knowing it – telling you what’s appropriate or not, where to go, who to speak to and how, what to buy etc. They might make us socially acceptable to ‘people like us’ but they can tie us up when it comes to the simplicity and immediacy of obeying God.

So when he asks her for a drink, she feels duty bound to highlight this transgression and educate him – remind him – what’s appropriate: “‘You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?’ (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)” we’re told. Anyone notice that Jesus knows exactly what he’s doing in asking her for a drink. Convention requires that their different traditions are voiced and their differences which govern this are laid on the table.

Schooling the schooled

Should she be schooling a man like this, and a religious Jewish man no less? Is it even her place to do this? But he’s setting her up for it. I find myself wondering about who else is around, who else notices these two, even from afar. It would have been quiet there. Jesus is sending himself further into social impropriety by talking with this woman – a fallen woman – on his own. So to add to the growing list, he’s now transgressing approved sexual and relational conduct too. To anyone witnessing this, or anyone who heard about it he could be seen as yet another man welcoming her advances. But he gives that no mind – thinking nothing of the risk to his reputation or social standing as a rabbi. 

And this suddenly becomes a more intimate and vulnerable interaction. It becomes a genuine encounter. What is it about his demeanour that emboldens her? That gives her permission to correct him. Is she just brazen? But he’s not just another Jewish rabbi or religious man. He’s not just another Jewish man. He’s not just another… man. And this is suddenly transformed from all its impropriety into a significant, life-altering moment between two people.

We know this isn’t the only time he confronts these conventions, or breaks them. Elsewhere in the gospels he allows another ‘fallen’ woman to pour out a jar of perfume, worth a year’s wages, weeping and wiping his feet with her hair. Whilst he dines with religious leaders and influential men. Can you imagine?? Even now the wastage, the woman – weeping – and wiping of his bare feet in a formal setting, during dinner, would be shocking, or head turning at least. You can just imagine the people there voicing their disapproval, frowning or scowling or getting up to leave in protest. But he is secure, totally in the moment and most importantly in perfect obedience. 

What we often think of as right, and appropriate, and dress up as obedience to God. Is no such thing. Equally what we assume to be inappropriate, uncouth and wrong. Is no such thing before God. And this encounter – along with many others that Jesus had – demonstrates this.

Obey your Thirst

There’s lots of visual language here. So let’s visualise this. It’s noon and the sun is high overhead. It’s the heat of the day. You’re squinting against the sunlight, everything looks bleached out. You feel parched and your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth. You’re also tired, and heavy limbed having walked since early morning. You need to rest and eat. And you need a long drink to quench your thirst.

Jesus asks the Samaritan woman: “Will you give me a drink?” 

She counters him: “‘Sir,’ the woman said, ‘you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep’.” 

So, that’s a no. But she’s bound by convention – emphasising the proper way and this is not it. It would have been wrong for a Jew and Samaritan to draw and drink from shared cups or utensils as Samaritans were thought ritually unclean by the Jews. She’s making no concessions on this matter of religious and cultural propriety, even though she’s much more flexible in other areas of her life.

And she hadn’t heard or computed this: “Jesus answered her, ‘If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.’” He’s reproves her – was there a twinkle in his eye as he says this? Still, she just hasn’t heard him – she doesn’t register what he is saying. Have you ever had a conversation where you’re talking at cross-purposes. The other person simply cannot take in what you’re saying.

The contrast of Jesus’ physical thirst – he is the one in need or so we think – next to the well full of water. While she is denying Jesus a drink – bound by these customs and conventions. In fact, I don’t think she gives Jesus a drink at all in this whole passage. He’s thirsty. But what is thirst exactly? It’s a need, and a desire for water. For something that sustains life itself. If you don’t obey your thirst or hunger at some point, both of which are signalling a genuine need, you would eventually die. 

They are like mirrors – she’d denying him physical water to keep customs and conventions, while he is breaking them all to offer her living water.

we don’t just thirst for water

This woman is persona non-grata. She is a social outcast and not welcome by the other women in her community. She’s at the Well in the middle of the day, while the women and most of the community would fetch water, wash and clean in the early morning. But she’s not welcome then, or she chooses not to go. In her own life she hasn’t been drinking from her own cistern. Not belonging because she has failed to meet a social standard and code of practice that was expected of her. She’s ostracised. This isn’t just a feeling, it’s a reality and playing out in her social exclusion and isolation.

But she does has plenty of water to drink and something to draw it with (unlike Jesus which she has already pointed out). But actually it’s her whole life that is a dry and parched. She is thirsty but not for water. Her thirst is for belonging, community, for connection, and companionship. She’s thirsty for meaning, resolution, restoration. For relief from her social isolation and loneliness that brings her here in the middle of the day. And for repatriation – legitimacy as an heir of the promises to Israel too. To no longer feel sidelined from the Jewish people as a Samaritan, as she is from her own community. So her thirst cuts across every part of her identity.

And here is Jesus, coming right into her thirst. He stops and sits down in it. Having gone where no one else will travel. 

In a recent piece for Woman Alive UK I wrote about chaplains who go into strip clubs. And one of the things I found really amazing when I talked to one of these chaplains in particular; she said to me: “It’s wild that God is so present in strip clubs”. And she said the reason is that God goes whether there’s thirst, or hunger.

Jesus is drawn to the dry and parched lands. He’s drawn to the hungry, and the thirsty. Who knows why he cut through Samaria that day but to me, it’s as if his feet just walked him there. Like my feet sometimes walk me the route I used to take to school. It’s just wired into the son of God to traverse the deserted places and the abandoned places. With the voice of the Holy Spirit his guide.

heights versus depths

The Samaritans were clinging to their history in this area, and the history of the patriarchs – wanting to worship God on this mountain – (Mount Gerizim) not in Jerusalem where the temple was. It caused a rift – further compounded by their mixed ethnicity which the Jews despised. 

But here the Samaritan woman identifies herself alongside Jacob, claiming her birthright. And refuting the prejudice of devout Jews against Samaritans. She claims her patriarchal lineage. She and her people are inheritors and people of Israel too, even while those very people dismiss and disparage them. This well too, on the land Jacob bought for his burial site is an important part of that history.

When Jesus responds to her, telling her that she could ask him for living water, she challenges him, showing her loyalty to her people: “Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?’”

The answer of course is yes – he supersedes Jacob. More than that he has come to meet those ancient longings and to fulfil God’s promises to her ancestors. But not to be deterred or diverted, he stays on topic. He contextualises the good news of who he is and what he offers for her in this setting – everything around him speaking of the spiritual reality that he’s communicating.

Living Water

The living water he offers is greater than the water from this Well, given to them to nourish their people and animals for generations but that will always leaving them thirsting for more. Representative of their traditions and the significance of place. He says: “‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’”

This living water is a refrain in the bible and of Jesus’s ministry – pointed to by the prophets – Isaiah 55:1 “Come to me all how are thirsty, come to the waters” and spoken of in Revelation 21:6: ““To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life.” And later in John 7, he explains: “‘Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.’ By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified.”

Living water, welling up within us to eternal life – the Spirit given to sustain our whole lives saturating and hydrating us. Slaking our thirst better than any glass of water ever could. 

And it says something about the nature of the Holy Spirit. Who is a person of the Trinity. But is also often described in elemental – variously a wind, now water. So the Holy Spirit has a substance which is essential for us to live and thrive, elemental in its nature.

While they want to worship God on the mountain and on the heights, God is actually inviting her (and us) to drink from the depths. This water source is deeper than a well. In the words of David: “Deep calls to deep…”  

Despite our earnestness and properness, we can be worshipping God in all the wrong ways and all the wrong places. It might be determined by how we’ve been brought up, our conditioning or the way we’ve always done things. By misguided religious practices, by nostalgia or sentimentality even, or by traditions that are insufficient alone to hold the magnitude of what God is doing. Those ‘mountains’, in specific places, religious practices or ways we’ve met with God before aren’t invalid but in the end we can miss Jesus. There he was sitting by Jacobs’ Well, at the base of Mount Gerizim with all of it’s tradition and significance – himself the well of salvation sitting by this ancient well, offering living water. But she didn’t see him: “if you knew the gift of God” he says… until she did. Then it was a moment of the most incredible alignment, foreshadowing the outpouring of the Spirit when it will no longer be contained.

Man-made or eternal?

Lastly, there is a profound difference between a well and a spring. Wells are man-made, they are dug with effort, they are built and constructed by us – people, civilisations and religious institutions, to sustain us. And they do. They contain our [water] source, but we have to keep returning, keep drawing water. As Jesus says to the Samaritan Woman: “‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again”. 

And when we rely on our own identity – well-defended or justified as it may be, or rely on a place, history, tradition, conventions: drawing this water becomes laborious – it ultimately relies on man’s intervention and our own efforts and initiation to sustain us.

However, a spring is natural, effortless – it is self-sustaining: “whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’ Imagine that. A spring that will well up, sustaining and nourishing us – welling up – producing in us eternal life – bringing our spirits to life, and nourishing our entire lives. Truly living water.

No wonder she says, “give me this living water!”

© Alexandra Noel – All Rights Reserved May 2025

Meditations on Hope

| flexanoel

Curated thoughts on the nature of hope and why we will always need it.

in context: Faith, Hope and Love

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.” 1 Corinthians 13v13

What’s so special about faith, hope and love and why do they – of all things – remain? It’s intriguing. The surrounding chapters of 1 Corinthians partly answer this in talking about Completion. That when completion comes – when all is resolved at the end of days – faith, hope and love will still be there, even as other things have faded away.

Somehow faith, hope and love materially endure. There’s no sell-by date on them, no need to throw them out – they will always be valid, always be needed. So much so that they will be essential to the ‘completion of all things’ to come.

So faith, hope and love are not ephemeral ideas. They’re real things, that have substance and can be evidenced; for now and the age to come. So with that in mind, let’s consider the second of these three things. Hope.

Hope is an Anchor

Hope and anchors have a long association. I’m sure I’m not the first to have come across a pub called the ‘Hope and Anchor’ and the reason might well be this verse from the Bible.

Hebrews 6v19 says: “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

What’s an anchor like? It’s really weighty – often being made of iron. It’s dropped into the sea, usually on a heavy metal chain or rope, attaching to the boat or ship. The anchor hooks onto the sea bed and stops the boat drifting, making it immovable. Ships without an anchor or anything else to fasten or moor them, are in trouble – if they can’t anchor they’ll drift. In choppy waters or storms especially they could come to harm, smashing up on rocks or against the cliffs. If a boat’s engine dies, or the wind suddenly drops there’s absolutely nothing to hold them fast, leaving the stranded.

And we ourselves have an anchor – which tethers the soul, attaching us to something rock-solid, immutable and immovable.

I’ve often felt God speak to me through ships. When I moved from Bristol – which is a maritime city with a harbour and docks – back to London, it was through ships that God confirmed that I needed to move. My old flatmates even got me a small piratey-style painting – drawn like a sailor’s tattoo which said ‘Homeward Bound’. This was true of our ultimate destination – heaven, as well as my home town of London! 

Hebrews 6:19 is one of my favourite verses in the Bible. I had it as the background on my old most-beloved MacBook Pro which I ended up having for 13 years! That’s 13 years of seeing that verse every time I opened my laptop – almost daily.

In this passage God is setting in stone the promise that he made to Abraham: “I will surely bless you and give you many descendants”. He had sworn an oath – swearing it by himself because there is no one higher – imagine that: “When God made his promise to Abraham, since there was no-one greater for him to swear by, he swore by himself, And so after waiting patiently, Abraham received what was promised…People swear by someone greater than themselves and the oath confirms what it said and puts an end to all argument. Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs [that’s us too] of what was promised…he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged.” Italics mine.

Hebrews 6 goes on to explain that: “[This hope] enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain where our forerunner Jesus has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever…” 

This hope is in Jesus. It is Jesus, who has accomplished all things, and ended the old covenant which required that people made atoning sacrifices for their sin. He became that himself, a once-for-all sacrifice — removing the curtain which separates us from the Holy of Holies where God. And so restoring our relationship with him. This hope anchors us fast, so that we won’t drift. Firm and secure – the confident expectation of eternal life and salvation in Jesus Christ.

I imagine standing just outside the Holy of Holies in the tabernacle, pulling that really heavy curtain aside, feeling the weight of it, never having seen what’s behind it – not knowing what to expect, but still pulling it aside with confidence to find Jesus standing right there and being welcomed in. And of course, when Jesus died on the cross we’re told in the gospels that this very same curtain was torn from top to bottom. Forever ending our separation from God. This cannot be undone.

So this hope is an anchor for our souls.

Song Inspiration – The Anchor by Crowder

Hope is Future-Oriented Faith

I find ‘Hope’ quite difficult to articulate – it’s a feeling but it’s more than a feeling. It’s a sense of wishful thinking but it’s more tangible than that. It’s optimism but that’s insufficient to describe it. It transcends circumstances and yet it’s entirely connected to them. It’s aspirational, it’s the life we dream of – that we long for. But it’s hard to quantify and understand.

A common dictionary definition is that hope is “a feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen”. But as we’ve already seen Biblical hope by contrast is more than a feeling – it is actual confidence: it’s a sense of certainty that something good will happen.

It’s hard to know where faith ends and hope begins. I had to really do some digging as to why hope is mentioned independently of faith in 1 Corinthians 13:13. Because hope is really similar to faith, but it is distinct from it. A really helpful way to think about it is that, faith is like an umbrella term. It provides the broader context relating to our belief in God, our trust in the person of Jesus and the finished work of the cross; the faith that things exist, or happened or can happen.

While hope is part of this, incorporating many of the things that faith is, it is still separate from it. Uniquely, hope points towards the future. It is future-facing. You could think of it as future-oriented faith. While faith is substantial, hope is directional. And we’d be lost without either. So we can conclude from this, that if ‘these three remain’, future-facing faith (as in hope) is of particular importance to be named alongside the broader context of what faith is. And as part of our existential reality even in eternity, it is an important orientation and posture for us to live by.

Another way to put it is that ‘biblical hope is biblical faith in the future tense’.

Hope is in the Suffering

Hope is an unseen guide as we navigate uncertainty. When all seems lost, it is hope that intervenes; to be rewarded and fulfilled in the realisation of one’s dreams. Equally there will be parts of life where hope isn’t fulfilled – yet.

Proverbs 13:12 says: “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life”. God wants to fulfil our hopes, dreams and desires. And if I have faith, that’s the substance of what I’m hoping for and those things yet unseen. It’s the evidence that they will happen.

Hebrews 11 opens with “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not yet seen.” More modern translations put it like this: “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for.”

And in the midst of terrible suffering, illness, bereavement; or when people have been kidnapped, held hostage, or held prisoner they often talk afterwards of how important hope was to them. For those going through famine or war or any number of dreadful, painful circumstances; hope is all you have often to enable you to keep going. Hope enables us to bear suffering and to persevere through – for the promise of what’s on the other side. And when hope is lost – it’s catastrophic. 

We saw amazing scenes at the end of January on International Holocaust Remembrance Day. During the holocaust, hope literally helped to keep people alive. It enabled them to keep going and not give up. In his book, ‘Man’s Search for Meaning‘, psychiatrist and holocaust survivor Victor Frankl observed the necessity of hope during his time as a prisoner in several concentration camps during WW2. He remembers in one camp how much they were hoping – however naively it proved to be (he acknowledges), that they would be home for Christmas, and it would all be over. When it became apparent that this wasn’t the case at all, their hopes were dashed. And seeing no reason at all to continue in the horrendous conditions, all hope was gone. At that point many gave up and died.

Hope is a Choice

Hope is a choice. It can sustain life in the most desperate of circumstances. As Victor Frankl discovered, and one writer commented: “While every external factor may root against you, one single act of internal defiance can counteract it all.” Hope is an act of defiance. Even though it has no bearing on the outcome per se, it is a vital internal shift and an attitude which arms you against things that could otherwise destroy you through despair. 

Hope can even save you but it’s based on your disposition, not whether or when it is fulfilled. It could even be called a type of stubbornness. Making the decision to choose hope is powerful. 

While hope can literally mean the difference between life and death, it can also affect all sorts of outcomes – recovering from illness or injury, or from losing someone or something, like a job. Hope is dignifying. In Victor Frankl’s own words: “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

And though hope is fragile, it is indomitable. There are many who cite hope as a reason they survived through the worst of circumstances. Even a whisper or a glimmer – if there is still the smallest flicker of hope, God will not extinguish it.

Isaiah 42:3 says: “A bruised reed he will not break, a smouldering wick he will not snuff out.”

Emblems of Hope

This poem by Emily Dickinson conveys the fragility of hope – likening it to a bird. 

Hope is the Thing with Feathers by Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

Birds are known to be symbols of hope: as they fly freely, survive the harshest of conditions and sing as the dawn arrives day by day they signal fresh possibilities, freedom and renewal.

In her book ‘I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings’, Maya Angelou tells the first part of her own story – of growing up in an abusive home, how she was raped at a very young age and how the trauma caused her to suffer from selective mutism. But also how she found her voice and sense of agency and freedom to become a recognised writer, speaker and poet. Through that sense of Hope she burst out of the ‘cage’ to find her own voice, liberating herself and inspiring others to do the same. Her poem ‘Caged Bird’ from which the novel takes its name also captures the sense of hope that even a bird in a cage can sing of freedom can inspire others.

Caged Bird by Maya Angelou

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind   
and floats downstream   
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his wings are clipped and   
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings   
with a fearful trill   
of things unknown   
but longed for still   
and his tune is heard   
on the distant hill   
for the caged bird   
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
|and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams   
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream   
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied   
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings   
with a fearful trill   
of things unknown   
but longed for still   
and his tune is heard   
on the distant hill   
for the caged bird   
sings of freedom.

Someone else who became an emblem of hope for others was Corrie Ten Boom, a watchmaker who lived in Haarlem in the Netherlands. When WWII broke out, and Germany invaded; as a Christian, she and her family took God’s word over the word of the occupying forces. They gathered stolen ration cards and hid Jews in their home. When an informant tipped off the Nazis about their work, their home was raided and the family was taken to prison.  

In prison they received word via the resistance that “all the watches in your cabinet are safe”. To their great relief, those they had been hiding had been transferred to other locations and were safe.

While imprisoned, she held worship services in the camp she and her family was held in, and shared from a Bible which had been smuggled in. Corrie Ten Boom writes about this experience in her book, ‘The Hiding Place’. She consistently spoke of the hope she had – sharing it with fellow prisoners and with numerous people through her subsequent writing and speaking after the war.

Song Inspiration – Oh Hope by Joshua Luke Smith

Hope is for the Unseen

Hope wouldn’t be hope if it we could see what we were hoping for. This is a really important aspect of what hope is. Hope is contingent on us not having what we are hoping for – yet. 

Romans 8v18-35 reveals the power of hope on a cosmic scale, Paul says: “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first-fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”

Hope itself is a state of anticipation. Still, it can’t be separated from waiting and expectation. It is tied to waiting, and waiting patiently for what is unseen. If you have hope you will wait patiently.

Hope in the Waiting

In the Bible there are several Hebrew words which are used to describe hope. The Bible project explains these:

Yakhal – to wait for (as Noah waited for the waters to recede to reveal land while he was in the Ark)
Qavar – describes a cord, or a sense of tension while you wait, followed by release.
Elpis – describes living hope – based on Jesus resurrection, we can be reborn.

In the Old Testament, the prophet Hosea chose hope – in a time when there was nothing to be optimistic about. Israel was being oppressed by foreign empires. Like Hosea, choosing hope is part of the prophetic voice that Christians can have in society. Remembering what God had done in the past, to bring his people out of Egypt during the Exodus, Hosea applied it to the future, saying: “God could turn this valley of trouble into a door of hope.” God’s past faithfulness motivated hope for the future. We look forward by looking back – trusting in nothing other than God’s character.

Similarly, Joseph was a man of hope. For him his faith in God, translated into hope for his future. Having been sold into slavery he never gave up hope through the ups and downs, and numerous mistreatments that he suffered. And when God raised him up to be in charge of Egypt, it also had a great purpose. He had so many false starts – possibly the worst was being forgotten in prison, leaving him there even longer until – when the timing was right God had need for him. Genesis is very clear that despite his misfortune: “the Lord was with Joseph”. So hope in the waiting is also recognising that while we may not understand any of what is happening, and why, it is serving a greater purpose. Joseph saved his family, and by extrapolation, the twelves tribes of Israel.

Waiting is exhausting, both physically and emotionally. But this difference with hoping in God is that it renews our strength. And gives us supernatural strength too. It’s counterintuitive. The paradox is, as Isaiah 40: 31 says that as we hope, as we wait: “but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Hope is in the Planning

Jeremiah 29v11: “I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope [a better life] and a future”.

A plan is a method or strategy for achieving a goal. And here Jeremiah is reassuring Israel that there a plans for a hope and a future. That hope as a tangible thing, is premeditated. It’s planned. The ball is already rolling even if nothing appears to be happening. God has a plan. Think about your last holiday – what plans did you make, to make that holiday a reality? Plans are evidence of a future reality. When you see an architects drawings, a blueprint or a business plan – that’s evidence of the future existence of the thing that you’re creating. It’s like an inheritance. There’s intention. Hope can be imagined, and imagined. 

So while it’s fullest realisation exists in the future, it also exists now as the things God has planned. God has planned our future with him. In Jesus death and resurrection – our ultimate hope was planned – it had to be. It wasn’t an accident, or an afterthought that is trying to fix a botched job. It was planned. So if you hope for something, if you have faith for it you can take is as evidence of those things: “now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not yet seen”.

My Hope is in You

Throughout the Psalms there is a refrain: “My hope is in God” and a phrase which urges: “Put your hope in God”. The Psalms talk a lot about hope. And it’s often hope in God. David often encourages himself and others to “put your hope in God” It is for God himself that they are waiting.

Verses of hope from the Psalms

“May your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our hope in you.” Psalms 33:22

“My integrity and uprightness protect me, because my hope, Lord, is in you.” Psalm 25:21

“But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you”. Psalm 39:7

“Be strong and take heart, al you who hope in the Lord”. Psalm 31:24

“For you have been my hope, Sovereign Lord, my confidence since my youth”. Psalm 71:5

“As for me, I shall alway have hope; I will praise you more and more”. Psalm 71:14

“Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my saviour, and my hope is in you all day long”. Psalm 25:5

“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God”. Psalm 43:5

“Blessed are those whose help is in the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God”. Psalm 146:3

Living Hope

And so we find that Biblical hope is based on a person. It’s different from optimism, and positive thinking. It’s not focused on circumstances and not based on things getting better.

This brings us to Living Hope –  that hope is indeed built on a person, the person of Jesus.

1 Peter 1:3 says: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead”.

The Resurrection is central to our sense of hope as Christians. The risen Jesus is our ultimate hope through his death on the cross and his resurrection from the dead.

At the end of the day biblical hope, that which remains is established on the finished, settled work of Jesus Christ.

Song Inspiration – Living Hope by Phil Wickham

And Hope Does not Disappoint

Romans 5:4 – “we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame [does not disappoint us], because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

Jesus himself suffered on the cross because of hope: “for the joy set before him [he] endured the cross”. Have you ever imagined that Jesus was a man full of hope? Hope enabled him to endure the worst suffering on the cross. In order to become hope itself – for us.

Song Inspiration – Cornerstone by Hillsong Worship

© Alexandra Noel – All Rights Reserved. February 2025

New Year, New Identity

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Listen to the talk here – recorded 19th January (NB moderate audio quality), or read below:

New Beginnings

‘New Year, new you!’ We’re really familiar with this now. And it’s everywhere at the moment.

It is true that the beginning of a new year offers us a new start. We can finally turn the page on last year, including any of its failures, embarrassments and disappointments. ‘This year is going to be different’, we tell ourselves. 

We feel hopeful for our newly adopted exercise regimes, diets, healthy eating plans, or January fasts, plus any newly discovered productivity hacks etc. So many things right now are being recommended, promoted or sold on the promise of becoming a ‘new you’. Although I think people are getting wise to these advertising strategies, we’re all yearning for a bit of self-improvement and who doesn’t want to become their ‘best self’?

A new Version of ourselves

Then there are new beginnings that require a whole new version of us. Or that a new part of ourselves emerges, or an existing part gets dialled up. New jobs will require new skills, as do new contexts – we will all at times need new ways of understanding, and new ways to communicate with people. Not to mention learning new technologies and new ways of operating – it’s something I had to do when I changed my career a few years ago.

These life-moments which produce a new version of us might include, moving house, moving to a new city, getting engaged, getting married, or having children. Those of you who are parents will probably remember how you felt when you first held your son or daughter, and in what ways being a mother or father has changed you. Similarly how marrying someone and setting up home starts to require new things of you – which can be exciting and challenging all at the same time. No matter your relationship status – single, married, divorced or widowed there are always new callings and new phases of life we have to embrace – all of which present some kind of new beginning. Asking that we become a new version of ourselves in some way. 

For all of us, living through a pandemic has changed us. As has our journey together as a church community over the last few years. As well as completing a season of life, saying farewell to friends, facing illness, caring for loved ones – these are all experiences that require us to become a new or different version of ourselves. Usually for the better, but sometimes it can feel for worse – at least for a while.

But these experiences don’t fundamentally change who we are – we might learn new habits, or ways of doing things; we may grow or expand around our circumstances but our essential personhood remains unchanged. We are still ‘us’. With our various quirks and foibles. And unfortunately our sinful natures. We’re shaped by a whole range of factors which affect the way we respond to things, our thought patterns and the conclusions we draw about ourselves and others, as we navigate life. And we get comfortable. That’s our identity – ‘it’s just who I am’, we tell ourselves. And that can be depressing. Especially when we strive to change ourselves and it doesn’t pay off. What we need is more than just a new version of ourselves – we need a new identity.

A new identity brings resistance

As we heard last week, the Exodus saw the Israelites leave Egypt where they had been enslaved for generations. They witnessed an increasingly severe set of plagues as God turned the screws on Pharaoh to let his people go. When they left Egypt they fled across the parted waters of the Red Sea, and then moved through the desert from camp to camp as they followed a pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, for 40 years. Apparently this journey would only take 11 days if they’d walked in a straight line. But this journey was about more than covering distance, they needed to become a new people with a new identity. And they just couldn’t seem to let go of their old identity as slaves in Egypt. So much so, that when the Promised Land was so close they could touch it (literally they’d brought back samples of the produce) they couldn’t enter into it. 

When the twelve spies had gone into the land to suss it out. Ten of them spread a bad report. The people grumbled, freaked out and then even started to organise! They were not going to the Promised Land. In Numbers 14v2 they said: “If only we had died in Egypt! Or in this wilderness! Why is the Lord bringing us to this land only to let us fall by the sword!” They thought it was better to go back to Egypt, v4: “And they said to each other, “We should choose a leader and go back to Egypt”.

As they stood on the cusp of a new beginning, most were too intimidated by what stood before them and believed the negative reports of ten of the spies, spread amongst them. They looked with fear, rather than faith – at the land before them – the land that God was promising them.

A new identity produces new ways of seeing

But two of the spies saw with eyes of faith – Caleb and Joshua. Though they saw the same things there; they had an entirely different interpretation of what they saw. They urged the Israelites to have faith – they were so close! Later in Numbers 14 they said: “The land we passed through and explored is exceedingly good. If the Lord is pleased with us, he will lead us into that land, a land flowing with milk and honey, and will give it to us. Only do not rebel against the Lord. And do not be afraid of the people of the land, because we will devour them. Their protection is gone, but the Lord is with us. Do not be afraid of them.”

But it was to no avail. They refused to listen. God was exasperated at the contempt they showed for him. This was more important than his own glory. And I just want to underline the meaning of contempt because its something that God takes seriously (and so should we): the feeling that a person or a thing is worthless or beneath consideration – disregard and disobedience. These are rooted in contempt. 

God had forgiven them but there still had to be consequences. This is another example of where God has boundaries. He is a Person. “No one who has treated me with contempt will ever see [the Promised Land].” The eldest generation that left Egypt would die in the wilderness and only their children would see it. He then told them that they would spend 40 years in the wilderness, one year for every day that the spies were in the land. 

And then God said – and I think this is really critical: “But because my servant Caleb has a different spirit and follows me wholeheartedly, I will bring him into the land he went to, and his descendants will inherit it.” Numbers 14:24 NIV And then again: ““Not one of you will enter the land I swore with uplifted hand to make your home, except Caleb son of Jephunneh and Joshua son of Nun.” Numbers 14:30 NIV

The ten spies died by plague and when the Israelites tried to enter the promised land in their own strength the Amalekites and Canaanites who lived in the hill country beat them back. They didn’t succeed. And so they wandered for 40 years, that whole first generation dying in the wilderness except for Caleb and Joshua.

A different spirit means a brand new identity 

Joshua and Caleb had a different spirit and wholehearted followed the Lord. They had shed their pasts and their old identities, they were no longer slaves. They had a brand new identity.

Identity was always a struggle for ancient Israel. And it can be a struggle for us to. One of the fathers of ancient Israel was Jacob. And Jacob was a man struggling for identity. As a young man he impersonated his older brother Esau, stealing his identity – this was the original identity theft; in order to obtain his elder brother’s birthright. Then a whole set of trials and circumstances humbled him – until he could articulate his core complaint to God – the heart of the issue. It led him to a confrontation with God – wrestling him (or an angel or Jesus?) in frustration and desperation. His deepest desire/complaint was that wanted God to bless him: “I will not let go until you bless me!” Then Jacob was renamed Israel – and it’s from him whom the people of Israel took their name. 

So here they were, standing on the cusp of this realised blessing, the Promised Land. But there were still fundamental issues of identity holding many back from entering into the very blessing their forefather Jacob wrestled with God for all those years before. And I think it can be the same for us. 

My own wrestle has been with being creative. And allowing myself to embrace who God has made me to be. It wasn’t particularly validated in my family despite there being plenty of creative and its been an existential journey to step into it. I had to embrace a new identity to be who God created me to be.

The ‘new beginning’ of our promised land demands more of us, it demands not just a new version of us but that we have a new identity. And even that we are renamed. Our identity is under constant threat, and it can cost us like it did the Israelites who rebelled, so wedded were they to their old, wrong identities as slaves from Egypt.

Foreshadowing things to come

The different spirit found in Caleb and Joshua, foreshadows what the prophet Ezekiel would say many years later: “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. Then you will live in the land I gave your ancestors; you will be my people, and I will be your God.” Ezekiel 36:26-29 NIV 

In turn this foreshadowed the outpouring of the Holy Spirit in Acts, as foretold by the prophet Joel: “And afterward, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days. I will show wonders in the heavens and on the earth, blood and fire and billows of smoke. The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord. And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved; for on Mount Zion and in Jerusalem there will be deliverance, as the Lord has said, even among the survivors whom the Lord calls.” Joel 2:28-32 NIV

What does it mean for us?

For us this means becoming as a child of God. And having our identity in Christ.

There can be many things that cause us to question our identity – rejection, struggle, our personal deserts, suffering, unemployment, heartbreak… Experiences and circumstances can force us to question ourselves – including upheavals, loss, relational issues, change – anything that destabilises us. But God’s unchanging invitation to us is to place our identity in Christ. And he will unsettle those things which we begin to form our identity around – be it a job, a person, a church, our hobbies and interests even which define us. Any answer we might provide to the question ‘Who am I?

The incredible thing about placing our identity in Christ – is that this identity supersedes every other identity we could possibly have. Be it gender, sexuality, relationship status, work, our national identity, racial identity, cultural identity, educational, denominational… who you know. It’s the most freeing thing ever to take on this brand new identity. Identities become labels, they can be reductive, they can be excuses we make: ‘that’s not me’, they can be limitations, they can be exclusionary… I’m a mum now I can’t let loose on the dance floor for fear of my ‘mum dancing’. I’m single and don’t have children – I can’t contribute to the kids ministry. I’m old, that counts me out of contributing, I’m young – what do I possibly have to say?? There is one identity that matters and that is our identity in Christ and it supersedes all others and sets the precedent; once and for all answering the question – Who am I? 

‘The Work under the work’

It’s something that Tim Keller mentions. He talks about: “the work under the work”. That in all our striving and attempts to change and improve ourselves, achieve and drive ourselves forward – become our ‘best selves’ we are trying to answer the question, Who Am I. But placing our identity in Christ takes care of our fundamental identity so that we don’t have to strive to define ourselves. 

In his letter to the Galatians, Paul explain this: “So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptised into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” Galatians 3:26-29 NIV

New beginnings invite us into a new identity. And the ultimate new beginning is our new identity in Christ. In so many ways that is our Promised Land.

And so rather than going back to what we knew, we move forwards, into the new things God is doing. In many ways we’re still travelling, but it’s alway from glory to glory. And so we press on because God has a higher calling for us beyond our ‘new year, new you’ goals and beyond becoming our ‘best self’. We are to become children of God through faith with a new identity in Christ. 

Isaiah 43:19 sums this up, calling back to Joshua, Caleb and the wilderness years of Israel. Our new identity is forward facing and our old identity is firmly behind us. So many times we’re told not to look back – to forget what’s behind us: “This is what the Lord says— he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters, who drew out the chariots and horses, the army and reinforcements together, and they lay there, never to rise again, extinguished, snuffed out like a wick: “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:16-19 NIV

And so we press on. In more words of Paul’s from his letter to the Philippians: “Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:14 NIV 

And that’s a new year goal worth having.

The singer Bob Dylan is getting a lot of airtime at the moment because of the new biopic featuring Timothée Chalamet. He wrote an amazing set of gospel songs as well as his other music, and I want to play one of them to you. The version we’ll hear is sung by the Chicago Mass Choir but do listen to the original one sung by Bob Dylan too. Listen below.

© Alexandra Noel – All Rights Reserved – January 2025

Evolving the Bristol Sound

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From Determined Resistance to Inspiring Change

Massive Attack’s first Bristol show in 5 years – on August 2024 – provided a perfect excuse to look back at how the Bristol Sound has evolved from the trip-hop that first defined it, to encompassing Idles’ post-punk and everything in between. And to consider what it all really stands for.

A lot has happened in Bristol, and elsewhere – since Idles released their 4th album, Crawler in November 2021. And I certainly wasn’t the first person to notice that it opened with an obvious nod to mainstays, Massive Attack: “You might initially think you’ve accidentally put on Massive Attack’s Mezzanine with opener ‘MTT 420 RR’ heavily referencing ‘Angel’ by their fellow Bristolians”, wrote The List’s review in 2022.

‘MTT 420 RR’ by Idles bears more than a passing resemblance to Massive Attack’s ‘Angel’.

And that’s not where the similarities end. 

The ‘Bristol Sound’ has always been more than the trip-hop that came to define it in the 90s. And equally it’s more than its evolution over the last few years to include Idles’ post-punk prominence. 

Releasing their 5th album, TANGK, in February, there’s no question that Idles have established themselves as a force to be reckoned with. Are they mainstream now? No, not yet. Still, they’re probably the first name that springs to mind for many when it comes to the Bristol music scene. 

But as Idles continue their meteoric rise, Massive Attack remain steadfast – they’re not backing down. They play their first UK show in five years on August bank holiday weekend. From Bristol’s Clifton Downs they will look out over a musical landscape much altered since their last outing. And yet entirely congruent with Bristol’s unique musical history. What could Idles possibly have in common with them – apart from that creeping intro section?

While Idles’ music is nowhere near the ‘Bristol Sound’ popularised over 25 years ago, it still sounds like Bristol all right. It draws from the same well of resistance and independence that has fuelled the Bristolian attitude for years, and has been variously expressed by bands like Smith & Mighty, Tricky and Massive Attack, not to mention drum and bass outfits like Roni Size’s Reprazent, and many more. 

The wider scene, while less well-known, has always included metal, folk, rock, punk, indie and country too. And arguably there’s been more of a shift towards these in recent years. Those watching Bristol’s music will be all too aware of Americana star Yola, who sang with Massive Attack (under name Yolanda Quartey) in her early career, and arrives at her current success by way of the hugely underrated Bristol country band, Phantom Limb. 

The richness of the music scene had me happily living in that great city for 12 years, even dabbling in it as a musician myself; and never short of new music to discover. Bristol’s music has always been a blend of rich cultural influences. The city’s post-punk evolution is intriguing, especially if you were immersed in the music scene of the late 90s and noughties. But punk sensibilities are deeply rooted in Bristol. Not least in the fact that Bristolians are fiercely protective of their city – successfully resisting the attempts of insistent corporates to infiltrate it over the years. 

One such attempt on Gloucester Road – gracefully winding its way north from the city centre and full of independent shops and businesses – was met in 2011 with local residents firebombing a new Tescos. Renowned Bristol artist Banksy paid homage to the city’s energy in one of his street murals: the words ‘The Mild Mild West’ set above a cuddly teddy bear readying itself to chuck a Molotov cocktail at police carrying riot shields. You get the idea. 

As if to drive the point home, the china shop across the street makes a colourful selection of porcelain mugs and homeware – decorated with socialist slogans. Perfect for that delicious cuppa – served up with a slice of anarchy perhaps. For me the piéce de ‘resistance’ was a mug I saw there in 2020 emblazoned with the slogan ‘Dump Trump’ – neatly positioned for display in a porcelain toilet bowl.

Stokes Croft China shop – photo by author (2020)
Dump Trump porcelain mug – photo by author (2020)

During the Covid years, Bristol doubled-down on this resistance. It has continued to fight off commercialisation, and has thrown itself against one big issue after the other; protesting against Brexit, the Climate Crisis, the city’s legacy of Colonialism and Slavery, with thousands coming out in support of Black Lives Matter and later Ukraine.

A seminal moment happened in 2020 when the statue of slave-trader, Edward Colston, who had financed and lent his name to numerous landmarks in the city – was toppled from its position in the city centre and thrown into the river. Suddenly, former-Mayor, Marvin Rees, was all over the national news. He stated that despite the criminal damage, it was important to have empathy and listen to such protestors. And ordered the disgraced statue be retrieved and stored as a lesson for posterity.

A subsequent sculpture by eminent artist – Mark Quinn (of BLM protestor, Jen Reid) put in place of it without permission – was removed by Bristol City Council within 24 hours. Rees announced that whatever replaced the original statue would be decided pending a public consultation. (Banksy, who by nature has never asked permission, remains).

Many of these same issues have been addressed in Idles’ rage-filled song lyrics too, many of which strongly critique class struggle, capitalism, toxic masculinity, mental health and the idea of protest itself. And so it would seem that the anger and dis-establishmentarianism of the punk era has found a vital new resonance. A sure reason for the band’s success. It is music with an energy and metre that cries out for change. 

Even in the 90s and noughties, trip-hop’s fusion of influences was credited as being “music for our globally aware and culturally fragmented times”. While it may have captured the times it didn’t challenge them in the way Idles have over the last few years.

But Idles are adamant that they are not activists, though their lyrics would say otherwise. Through Covid and BLM they were thoughtful, and gave voice to the angst shared by countless fans. And when the Israel-Palestine conflict erupted more recently, they were co-opted into this cause. Fans assumed their music would automatically translate into an active political stance on the issue. But they resisted – if their music is about activism, it’s very much on their terms. They will be the ones to define it, and to decide how and when (at Glastonbury this year as it turns out).

Lead singer, Joe Talbot stated in a Rolling Stone interview in January that: “We are not activists. I am concerned with the human condition and how that affects each other, and I use music to connect it to the world”.

Idles have resisted the post-punk label too. In 2017 off the back of their breakout album, Brutalism, Talbot said: “We’re not a post punk band. I guess we have that motorik, engine-like drive in the rhythm section that some post punk bands have, but we have plenty of songs that aren’t like that at all.” 

Massive Attack have also resisted their trip-hop label, finding it limiting to the point of saying, “It doesn’t describe our music at all”. Neither band wants to be defined. Their rejection of these monikers gives them more in common than music ever could, both unconsciously shaped by the city’s values.

Despite shunning the punk label to evolve their sound (as their new album shows), Idles still sits firmly within the post-punk milieu. Like the post-modernism of the late 20th century, they have broken punk down further and further which each successive album – they query its tenets, asking how it could be reimagined. 

On TANGK they continue to use the distortion and synths first introduced on Crawler, but they also hark back to punk’s foundations on this album with songs referencing 50s rock and roll. 

With the issues, political or otherwise, that Talbot has addressed; perhaps they have gone further than punk ever could in confronting them. Exasperation with the Tory government, wrestling with questions of what it means to be a man, Talbot’s own, at times overwhelming, sense of grief and personal loss, and his journey with mental health issues, have all ultimately become a means of self-reflection. Talbot now holds up a mirror both to himself and society.

The political energy in their music isn’t so much that of the Clash and the Sex Pistols – though they’ve been compared to them often enough. Yes the repetition in their lyrics stands like protest chants – but they’re not those of anti-government rallies. It’s the angry objections spoken by frustrated families in tidy living rooms that we hear. 

They’ve been called out for being middle class – the Sleaford Mods have criticised them openly for appropriating punk from the working classes. But even the middle classes can become disenfranchised. And Talbot rightly gives voice to that. 

Idles have captured that angry impotence and powerlessness that convinces you that all you can do is rage and vent. That’s what happens when no-one is listening any more. Talbot has become more and more reflective over these five albums, admitting that he’s less about changing things ‘out there’ and increasingly focuses on changing himself. This has come by way of his mother’s death, and his first daughter being stillborn, all prompting his own torturous self-examination. 

This album is geared even more decidedly towards self-reflection and personal healing. Perhaps that’s the way real change happens anyway. On TANGK Talbot is empowered and clear – no longer shouting but with a gravitas that makes you lean in and listen to what he’s saying.

Both bands can trace their musical heritage to a fusion of influences rooted in the 60s and 70s that have created the diversity of today’s ‘Bristol Sound’. Emerging in the late 70s in rejection of mainstream rock and roll music, punk was already politically charged. By then in Bristol, sound system culture had taken off thanks to the arrival of migrants from the Caribbean who have continued to have a huge influence on the city’s (and UK’s) music. Bringing with them reggae, dancehall, rocksteady; and dub – its progeny the trip-hop of the 90s. In turn punk absorbed reggae – the sound has both recombined with other influences and also remained distinct. 

On TANGK Idles call back to the rock and roll which inspired punk in the first place as well as imbibing the distortion, synths and electronic sounds more often associated with Massive Attack and their counterparts. And vice versa, Massive Attack’s Robert del Naja (aka 3-D) noted in an interview that their album Mezzanine: ““really did bring in all the elements that made us,” he said. ”Funk, soul, reggae, hip-hop and punk thing – it was all there.””

These Bristol cousins undoubtedly share common DNA. The ‘Bristol Sound’ has been described as “possessing a darkness that is uplifting, a joyful melancholy”. Though different, both Idles’ and Massive Attack’s music is certainly that. 

TANGK continues to capture this juxtaposition, still it is a different beast from Idles’ early days, taking ground towards a sense of reconciliation, self-empowerment, joy and love – a long way from their first album, which was angrier, darker and more frustrated. 

This marks the evolution of their message and sound, and of themselves – especially that of Joe Talbot. I can’t help but think that we’ve gone on this journey with them. That we’re getting better at processing our anger and at finding ways to communicate our frustrations: at looking at ourselves first before attacking others.

It remains to be seen what ‘Act 1.5‘ will bring as Massive Attack re-enter the musical fray. But it seems they’ve been taking notes – the ‘Climate Action Accelerator’ will address the climate crisis and sets out to be the lowest carbon show of its size. Maybe actions will speak louder than words in their case. 

As the ‘Bristol Sound’ continues to evolve, it is not only becoming older and wiser, but an increasingly compelling voice for change, embodying its possibilities and rewards. And perhaps what unites Idles and Massive Attack more than anything is a shared belief that it’s invariably better to ‘be the change you want to see’.

© Alexandra Noel – All Rights Reserved – May 2024

Not So Sorry and Single

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Listen to the talk here – recorded 23rd June 2024 (NB moderate audio quality), or read below:

A number of biblical characters blazed a trail ahead of Christ – somehow pointing to or depicting key aspects of Jesus’ character, purpose or ministry. Other words and phrases to describe this are ‘prefiguration’ or ‘type of Christ’ or ‘forerunner’. These are like echoes that go across the Bible showing us something about Jesus, and acting as signposts towards him. See also Things Can Only Get Better which looks at Noah’s story.

Now, things are about to get really interesting because we’re going to look at Ruth, and how she blazed a trail for Christ. It might sound unusual to think of Ruth as a ‘type of Christ’. Because we often think of Boaz as the Christ-figure in this story – don’t we? But it’s Ruth we’re considering here, which is really exciting.

How I’ve come to view Ruth

In my particular echo chamber and my algorithm of life – which, I’ll say is somewhat (and inevitably) informed by being a single/unmarried woman in church, though what I experience is felt more widely too. The story of Ruth holds a particular – slightly uncomfortable – meaning for me. And this isn’t based on the Bible, this is more informed by church culture and wider culture too, and is something I’ve imbibed.

Ruth is a story about: a poor, sorry, single woman whose only hope is to marry a man. And who, after much misfortune is finally seen and noticed and taken pity on by Boaz. Who is a Good Man and agrees to rescue her because she cannot do that for herself. And after making a rather unorthodox approach at the Threshing Floor (more on that later) he agrees to marry her, and they live happily ever after. The End. Isn’t that the story?!

Romantic tropes and fairytales

It’s very much a damsel-in-distress/ knight-in-shining-armour trope – it’s still a very present idea in western culture. And it’s a cultural blueprint for relationships. But we all know that relationships aren’t like that in reality in the day to day grind of doing life with someone. But we still have this Disney idea and idealism about relationships.

But, the Bible offers us a higher ideal. And this story if we look closely will show us what that ideal is.

And Ruth is a beautifully constructed piece of literature – it has a fairytale format but it subverts this and shows us something else entirely.

Setting the scene

Ruth 1v1: ‘In the days when the Judges ruled, there was a famine in the land. So a man from Bethlehem in Judah, together with his wife and two sons, went to live for a while in the country of Moab.’ 

This sets our scene. The very last verse of the book of Judges – Judges 21v25 – explains: ‘In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit.’ So it was pretty lawless, and it wasn’t a Godly time. The man was called Elimelek. The fact his family was from Bethlehem immediately connects this story to Jesus. They were a family displaced by famine. 

Elimelek dies in Moab, leaving his wife Naomi widowed, with her two sons in a foreign land. They marry Moabite women – somewhat naturalising. And then both of her sons die after about 10 years of living there, we don’t know why but their names suggest it was from illness; Mahlon means ‘sick or sickly’ and Kilion means ‘failing’.

Naomi is utterly bereft, she doesn’t ‘belong’ there and she has been thrown together with her two daughters-in-law – two Moabite women.

In Ruth 1v6 Naomi hears that: ‘the Lord has come to the aid of his people by providing food for them’. The famine is over and she can finally go home. All three widowed women return to Judah. After accompanying her, she encourages her daughters-in-law to return to Moab to their own mothers’ homes. It’s a bit like she’s shooing them off. And while Orpah obeys and returns home, Ruth doesn’t obey, and insists that she stay with Naomi, asserting herself in v16: ‘”Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you.”‘

Very early in this story Ruth shows a strength and determination which is noteworthy, and unusual.

She makes a covenant with Naomi, and with her people saying; ‘”Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God will be my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried.”‘ Again, we don’t know why but she has settled it within her heart, and won’t be dissuaded. This points us to how Jesus covenants himself with his Church. And how God covenanted himself with Israel. The unusual thing here is that Ruth is a Gentile, she is not an Israelite.

What’s in a name?

The name Ruth means ‘Friend or Companion’. We see how she stands with Naomi – providing that support and being her ally in difficult circumstances. And Jesus too is our friend who sticks closer than a brother, our companion. He says in John 15:13: ‘Greater love has no-one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends’.  

They didn’t have male any protectors or providers and Ruth shoulders this for her mother in law. I would say in the absence of a husband but I’m reluctant to – this ability and quality is always present in women— married or single, and it’s in Ruth.

Ruth acts in a Christ-like covenant friendship towards Naomi, laying down her life for her.

Bitterness versus hope

Ruth 1v19 says; ‘When they arrived in Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them, and the women exclaimed, “Can this be Naomi?”.’ 

‘”Don’t call me Naomi [which means Pleasant]”‘ she told them. ‘”Call me Mara because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty.”‘

Naomi is bitter, and blames God for all her misfortune. Have you ever spent time with a bitter person? It is hard work! Which makes Ruth’s decision even more interesting. 

Notice the stark contrast being Naomi and Ruth. Ruth has had similar misfortunes – she’s lost her own husband too, plus her brother-in-law and they would have likely been a close family unit. But she shows no signs of bitterness. Even in this first chapter Ruth is a hopeful figure. She appears to place her hope in the God of Israel – deciding that her future lies with Naomi, and with God’s people. That God will protect her and provide for her. Unlike Naomi who has become a bitter victim of her circumstances. 

We too can place our hope in Jesus, who always writes a better story for us through his death and resurrection.

As the Barley Harvest Begins

They arrive in Bethlehem, v22: ‘just as the barley harvest was beginning…’

Ruth 2v1 tells us; ‘Now Naomi had a relative on her husband’s side, a man of standing from the clan of Elimelek, whose name was Boaz. And Ruth the Moabite said to Naomi, “Let me go to the fields and pick up the leftover grain [let me go and glean] behind anyone in whose eyes I find favour”. Naomi said to her, “Go ahead, my daughter”.’

Ruth is polite and deferential towards Naomi, but she doesn’t need permission to do this. Ruth is the initiator here, not Naomi.

Gleaning is mega-resourceful. In rural cultures, it’s a great way to earn extra cash. And this is something Jesus and his disciples would do as well many years later.

Dignifying the Poor

Ruth sought resources and work to provide for herself and Naomi, before she ever gave thought to seek romance. She needed work. She needed a job! She had a legal right to be in that field – Boaz didn’t ‘allow’ her to work there – she was positioning herself under God’s command to ancient Israel which allowed the poor to glean. A law which acknowledged the poor as valuable, contributing members of society. It was dignifying. And this points us to Jesus – how he fulfilled the law and always dignified the poor.

As she looks to God and finds a way to provide for herself, she has both faith and initiative – and these things make way for her. Ruth had already set her intentions. Ruth 2v3, ‘as it turned out, she was working in a field belonging to Boaz, who was from the clan of Elimelek’. Was just happenstance, seeing her intentionality and resourcefulness already God makes a way.

Ruth 2v4 says, ‘Just then Boaz arrived from Bethlehem and greeted the harvesters, “The Lord be with you!”, “The Lord bless you!” They answered’. What happy workers they are.

This is the first harvest in years. And Ruth works from morning til night, and then threshes the barley herself to gather as much as she can. Boaz, removes the obstacles for her, he also invites her to eat and creates a good environment for her to work in. Fundamentally he welcomes her in and meets her needs. He reinforces that ancient law – he’s a Godly man. But he also takes responsibility upon himself to go further in making a way for Ruth to glean, he goes above and beyond the law. Still without doing anything for her, which underlines this sense of dignity – respecting her God-given sense of autonomy, agency and ability.

And you have these two God-fearing, righteous, faith filled people – unusual in their generation.

Ruth finds favour with him. In Ruth 2v10 she asks him: ‘”Why have I found such favour in your eyes that you would notice me – a foreigner?” Boaz replied, “I’ve been told all about what you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband – how you left your father and mother and your homeland and came to live with a people you did not know before. May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge.”‘ Now Boaz needs to be careful, because he just might be the answer to his own prayer!

Jesus often portrayed himself as an outsider and identified himself with the poor and marginalised. This reminds me of the story Jesus tells in Matthew 25v34: ‘Then the King will say, “come…take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat…I was a stranger and you invited me in…”‘

Boaz hears Jesus across the generations as he welcomes and makes a way for Ruth. He acknowledges her inherent God-given value – not only as a woman but as someone who might typically be marginalised from society. 

In this field as they speak, and contained within this interaction it’s as if the treasure of Kingdom of heaven (which Jesus speaks about in Matthew 13)  is already being gently disturbed and unearthed. Here we see two individuals, from different places entirely, who are living out of the obedience, integrity and dignity of the Kingdom of God, that Jesus would later come to fully establish through his life and ministry.

So Ruth returns home with her grain after a hard day’s work. And Naomi asks her where she’s been working, and Ruth replies that she was in Boaz’s field. I think Ruth ended up there through her instincts and intuition, and by God’s direction.

Making a plan

Naomi starts planning. Ruth 3v1 says, ‘One day Ruth’s mother-in-law said to her, “My daughter, I must find a home for you, where you will be provided for”.’ She wants to see Ruth married and settled. It’s interesting that Naomi suggests this, not Ruth. Ruth never raises it.

But Naomi suddenly wants to do Ruth this ‘kindness’. And with that perhaps she is also thinking of herself, and her own future. It is she who really wants to be properly settled. Encouraged by the favour Boaz has shown to Ruth, she sets her sights on him and looks to exploit this opportunity. He is their kinsman redeemer – the closest relative she knows of, who has the right to buy back the family’s property so it would stay in the family name. I think also meaning that her and Ruth would be taken in and looked after. 

Naomi’s cunning plan

She shares her cunning plan with Ruth: ‘”Tonight [Boaz] will be winnowing barley on the threshing floor. Wash, put on perfume, and get dressed in your best clothes. Then go down to the threshing floor, but don’t let him know you are there until he has finished eating and drinking. When he lies down, note the place where he is lying. Then go and uncover his feet and lie down. He will tell you what to do.”‘

Surely Ruth would have known where Boaz would have been, she had been working in his field for the entire harvest. I think Ruth also sees an opportunity which is why she is so willing and says; ‘”I will do whatever you say”.’ Verse 6 says: ‘so she went down to the threshing floor and did everything her mother-in-law told her to do.’

Now, I’m not entirely sure what went down at the Threshing Floor, but in the middle of the night, asleep by the grain pile we know that Boaz is startled by something (her perfume) and wakes up to find a woman (Ruth) lying at his [uncovered, bare] feet asking: ‘”Who are you?”‘

Prostitutes at the Threshing Floor

This is quite random for her to dress up and go to the Threshing Floor. Apparently it was quite common for there to be prostitutes at Threshing Floors after hours . But Boaz runs his threshing floor differently. Not only is he surprised to find a woman at his feet in the middle of the night, but he’s also very clear with Ruth later on that no one must know that a woman had been there, before sending her on her way.

It does make me wonder about Naomi – what was she thinking? 

Perhaps in devising her cunning plan she was mindful to the origins of the Moabite people. I wonder too whether there was some prejudice against them in Naomi’s heart. Not only were they Gentiles, so they weren’t considered ‘clean’, but they came into existence through the incest of Lot and his daughters – which if you want to look it up is in Genesis 19v31.

I can imagine Naomi’s reaction when her husband suggested they move to Moab. She might have been appalled; “we’re not moving there!! Not to Moab…! Not those people!” And becoming ever more distressed when her own two sons married Moabite women. 

And in some ways she reduces Ruth even further, here to the status a prostitute.

And so how much more impressive it is that Ruth had pledged herself to Naomi, and continues to honour her. She had come to love her deceased husband’s God, his people and Naomi too. 

But with that she has to traverse not only Naomi’s bitterness and victimhood, but her prejudice too.

So, in response to Boaz, Ruth is very quick to identify herself. In fact she doesn’t follow Naomi’s advice here; she doesn’t wait for him to ‘tell her what to do’. She immediately tells him who she is and why she’s there. She has to. In v9 she says: ‘”I am your servant Ruth… Spread the corner of your garment over me, since you are a kinsman-redeemer of our family.”‘

Judgement at the Threshing Floor

Threshing floors held a lot of meaning and symbolism in the Bible. Their symbolic of provision and plenty, a place of worship, of sacrifice and offerings, of the coming Messiah, and his judgement. John the Baptist says of Jesus: ‘His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.’

The wheat is being separated from the chaff on this Threshing Floor tonight! Ruth’s intentions, her motives, are laid bare. She could have accepted Naomi’s plan, and been reduced by it. But Ruth instead chooses transparency and stays in her integrity. She’s not about prostitute herself, or seduce Boaz to sleep with her, and though he is older and could be her father she won’t do what Lot’s daughters did to continue their family line.

Faith is spelt R-I-S-K

In doing that she takes a huge risk, it’s a vulnerable move from her because Boaz could have suspected her of any of those things. Ruth puts herself in God’s hands, acts with righteousness, and puts her faith in Boaz’s character. Trusting that as a righteous man too, he will hear her, read her true intentions and comprehend her correctly.

And thankfully Boaz does. How does he react? Far from being shocked or horrified, he is honoured: ‘”The Lord bless you my daughter,” he replied. “This kindness is greater than that which you showed me earlier: You have not run after the younger men, whether rich or poor. And now, my daughter, don’t be afraid. I will do for you all you ask. All the people of my town know you to be a woman of noble character”.’

Woman of Valour

And the Hebrew word used here for noble character actually means Valour – he calls her a woman of Valour. And it’s the same word used for the woman in Proverbs 31. Again Boaz recognises her God-given qualities. Calling her a woman of Valour isn’t so far from the meaning of the Hebrew word Ezer – Warrior. Which is what God calls himself when he comes Israel’s aid time and again. And it’s how Eve is identified when God creates her in Genesis – to be Adam’s Ezer Kenegdo – shoulder to shoulder, a sister in arms. Ruth is offering these qualities to Boaz and he is delighted and honoured by what she is proposing. He knows that she is an incredible asset. He sees that she is bold, knows her worth, has integrity and has taken a mega risk here. It’s becoming clearer and clearer that she has set out to redeem Naomi’s family.

She operating in this God-given identity and ability regardless of her marital status, or the times she lived in. And she offers this to Boaz just has she offered it to Naomi. She obeys a higher law.

Set your face

Her determination reminds me so much of Jesus. Early on we are told she is determined. She has set her face towards this, perhaps even from the point she left Moab. And she hasn’t deviated, no matter what unknowns and risks it would bring. She has such a sense of purpose, even though she didn’t know quite where it would all lead her. And Jesus too ‘set his face’ towards Jerusalem with his own unwavering determination as he approached the cross. Luke 9v51 says ‘as the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem.’ He was determined to redeem us.

Ruth’s kindness

Why is Ruth kind? With Ruth would come the land which belongs to Naomi’s family. In essence I think Ruth is making a deal, an offer to Boaz saying I’m giving you first refusal, marry me and you can redeem the land by rights. So in this she is thinking of Naomi’s family first, and of redeeming Naomi’s family. Which makes Ruth a Redeemer, like Christ.

If the other Kinsman-Redeemer had agreed he’d get the land first and the widow as an after thought, potentially seen as a burden. Boaz says to the other Kinsman-Redeemer in Ruth 4v5: ‘”On the day you buy the land from Naomi, you also acquire Ruth the Moabite, the dead man’s widow in order to maintain the name of the dead with his property”.’ But Ruth offers herself to Boaz first – as a prize, with the land a bonus.

And with Jesus it’s the same – his kingdom first, benefits second. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, ‘”But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”‘ 

Jesus’ transparency

Like Ruth was with Boaz, Jesus is transparent with us. About the cost of following him, about who he is, and what he came to do. And he makes his proposal to us, his church, saying: ‘”Come follow me”‘.

The Final Chapter

So Boaz announces that he’s acquired Ruth and the property. And the townspeople bless him and Ruth. And she is adopted fully into Israel – compared to Rachel and Leah. And Perez… And becomes Jesus ancestor, he carries Ruth DNA, a Gentile, she actually was woven into the very fabric of Israel and into Jesus himself. Because of her faithfulness, righteousness and integrity. And she points to the Kingdom of God which was extended to the Gentiles too

And that’s not where the redemption stops. It’s plentiful like the harvest after the famine. Ruth and Boaz have a son, who redeems Naomi’s losses too. Ruth 4v14 says: ‘”For your daughter-in-law, who loves you and who is better than seven sons [more complete – acknowledging her significance] has given birth. Then Naomi took the child in her arms and cared for him. The women living there said, “Naomi has a son!”. And they named him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the Father of David.”‘ And the forebear of Jesus himself.

© Alexandra Noel – all rights reserved 2024.

Announcing D-Day

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On the 80th Anniversary of D-Day, I look back at the part my grandfather – Derek Prentice, played in D-Day, by announcing it to the world.

British troops landing on the beaches in Normandy on D-Day – Reuters

On 6th June 1944, as people in the UK were getting up and going about their morning routines; on the radio they would have heard news of the D-Day landings, broadcast to them by the ‘BBC Home Service’. It informed them of the extraordinary events that had taken place during the night, while they were still soundly asleep. However, this wasn’t the first announcement of D-Day.

Hours before, as 6th June 1944 was just beginning, and as the armada of ships and planes were making their way across the Channel, BBC newsreader Derek Prentice announced the first news of D-Day. It was broadcast to vast numbers of dedicated listeners on the ‘BBC Overseas Service’. As the broad term denoted, it reached audiences beyond Britain’s shores – all around the world. Derek Prentice was my grandfather.

Afterwards, he was told that his D-Day broadcast must have had 100 million listeners, reportedly the biggest radio audience in history at the time.

My grandmother shared this story with the BBC’s WW2 People’s War project in 2014. Throughout the war, Derek’s BBC news bulletins were broadcast across Europe and the world, to countries including India, Mauritius, Canada, the USA, Australia and New Zealand. Always beginning with the words: “This is London calling”.

To his global audience he was a well known and familiar voice during the war, synonymous with the BBC. In Europe his name was so recognisable that it was used to send messages amongst the resistance. In the book ‘Facing Fearful Odds’, journalist John Jay (writing about his father’s experience of captivity, escape and resistance during WW2) tells of a prisoner of war camp in Setzdorf where one prisoner had acquired a radio receiver. Possession of such devices was punishable by execution.

Jay describes how the POWs there had “managed to tune in to the BBC European Service, with its announcement: ‘Here is the news read by Derek Prentice’.” He continues: “Prentice had gained legendary status in occupied Europe, where people used his name as code. Whispered questions such as ‘Have you heard from Derek today?’ would be an invitation to disclose the contents of BBC broadcasts. At Setzdorf, the main points of each transmission would be scribbled down and distributed”, as look-outs kept careful watch for the guards.

In other parts of the ‘British Empire’ including Canada and Australasia, people listened anxiously for news of the allies’ position and progress in the war. For them Derek was the voice of Britain. With a reassuring and authoritative quality, his voice signalled to listeners around the world that victory would come sooner or later. As the war raged on, claiming millions of lives – people needed hope. He read the BBC news throughout, right up until the end of the war.

Derek Prentice at the BBC microphone – a treasured family photograph.

Prior to working at the BBC, my grandfather had been an actor. His interest in theatre had begun during his time studying French and German at New College, Oxford (which followed his schooling at Winchester College). He initially became an engineer upon graduating, but he was so passionate about acting that he was able to persuade his parents to support this true vocation. Years later, working in London – including the West End – he was put out of work by the outbreak of war in 1939, when the theatres closed. As a linguist, he first went into censorship; then turned his acting training, and vocal talent to radio. He got a job with the BBC where he frequently worked the nightshift as a news reader. One particularly treasured family photograph shows him at the BBC microphone. After the war, he returned to acting, working across theatre, radio, film and television.

He was a hugely popular newsreader and his many fans across the world would send letters and gifts to him and his young family (his wife, Katherine and their two daughters) in beleaguered Britain . He would share these gifts with his colleagues – there was more than enough to go around. Other published reminiscences we have found echo that he was a recognised and much-loved radio voice of the time.

My mother and I have been trying hard to track down the original recording of that D-Day broadcast. Our many attempts to obtain a copy included approaching the BBC, who were very helpful but unable to locate the original recording. However, recently in April this year, we reached out again to the Australian Broadcasting Commission, who had featured the broadcast in a programme marking the 70th anniversary of D-Day in 2014. We were delighted to be told this time that they could make their recording of that original shortwave radio broadcast available to us. And with the BBC’s permission they have just released a copy of it for our personal use.

It’s wonderful to hear my grandfather, who I never met (he died before I was born), announcing such a pivotal moment in history; one we now know would lead to the end of WW2.

© Alexandra Noel – All rights reserved – June 2024.

Things Can Only Get Better

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Listen to the talk here – recorded 2nd June 2024 (NB moderate audio quality), or read below:

A number of biblical characters – including Noah – blazed a trail ahead of Christ – somehow pointing to or depicting key aspects of Jesus’s character, purpose or ministry. Other words and phrases to describe this are ‘prefiguration’ or ‘type of Christ’ or ‘forerunner’. These are like echoes that go across the Bible showing us something about Jesus, and acting as signposts towards him. See also Not So Sorry and Single which looks at Ruth’s story.

Meaning-making creatures

We are meaning-making creatures. We look for meaning, and God appeals to this part of our design by hiding ‘Easter Eggs’ or symbols – for those who are looking; like an artist, filmmaker or writer might hide them in their work. Throughout the Bible these hint and speak of the conclusion of the story; and of our ultimate hero and protagonist, Jesus.

God is happy for these mere humans; imperfect, created beings to be the first to demonstrate what his son came to fulfil. They go ahead of him. God didn’t need his own son to be there, right from the outset – first in line, dominating or pushing to the front…Jesus came after them all. They showed us first, what Jesus would be like – which he later fulfilled.

Adam was the first ever human, and Noah came 9 generations after him. Adam’s family line went: Adam – Seth – Enoch – Keenan – Mahalelel – Jared – Enoch – Methuselah – Lamech – NOAH.

Genesis 5v29 says that Lamech, Noah’s father: “‘named him Noah and said, “He will comfort us in the labour and painful toil of our hands caused by the ground the Lord has cursed.’”. 

So here’s one of our first clues. Because what does this tell us? In part; Noah, like Jesus, would provide comfort and relief from the consequences of the fall and the problem of sin. 

The Human Condition

Things had got really bad in the 9 generations since Adam. Genesis 6v5 says, “The Lord saw how great the wickedness of the human race had become on earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart were only evil all the time”. 

Here the human condition is laid out for us. If you read this verse slowly – it is exhaustive in explaining just how bad things were, it leaves no stone unturned in underlining how consumed humans were by wickedness and evil.

‘Every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart were only evil all the time.’ 

What did God say when he created Adam? That it was ‘very good’. But the goodness of the first human had been utterly consumed by evil. There was no good left in him whatsoever.

Genesis goes on to say;  “The Lord regretted that he had made human beings on the earth, and his heart was deeply troubled.”

I find this extraordinary because to me it reveals the transparency and vulnerability of God. These are recognisably human responses and emotions. It’s easy to overlook how human God is – obviously he’s not human, but we are made in his likeness. We can forget that he experiences feelings like joy, disappointment, anger. Here he feels REGRET, and his heart was DEEPLY TROUBLED. These are big emotions. Let’s imagine what that’s actually like – for God to regret something he’s done and to be deeply troubled. Think back to those times of regret in your life, or when you have been deeply troubled. It’s not nice.

Regret means feeling sad, repentant, disappointed about what you did or weren’t unable to do. But is also rings of despair: the complete loss or absence of hope.

God was facing the mega failure of Project Earth – it was created to be this incredible expression of the love experienced within the Godhead. He was about to lose everything he’d created. There was a spiralling moral cost to his project, humanity was haemorrhaging morality.

Catastrophic failure

God was facing a catastrophic failure. What is that? 

When we talk of catastrophic failure we often think of things like machines, rockets, aeroplanes, buildings and structures, pipelines, technology… or submersibles. The definition of a catastrophic failure is – ‘a sudden and total failure which cannot be put right, and from which recovery is impossible’. And a catastrophic failure often leads to something called a ‘cascading systems failure’ – where all interconnected systems fail too. A computer would completely crash, a building would collapse, a pipeline would rupture, a submersible would implode with no survivors.

God’s creation had developed a deep flaw, it was the problem of evil and sin that had taken root and it was causing this catastrophic failure – it could not be put right and was beyond recovery. The free will God had given Adam and Eve meant that humankind could choose whether to obey or disobey God. And the result of the Fall – their disobedience, had compounded; wickedness upon wickedness upon wickedness – to become a screaming feedback loop.

Genesis 6v7 says “So the Lord said, “I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race I have created—and with them the animals, the birds and the creatures that move along the ground—for I REGRET that I have made them.”” (Interestingly the whole of creation is implicated here.)

Genesis 6v11-12 explains further. It says “Now the earth was corrupt in God’s sight and was full of violence. God saw how corrupt the earth had become, for all the people on earth had corrupted their ways.” So God said, “I am going to put an end to all people, for the earth is filled with violence because of them. I am surely going to destroy both them and the earth.””

The word that stands out here to me is VIOLENCE. What is violence? Violence is intentional destruction. The World Health Organisation offers an insightful definition of violence which is: “the intentional use of physical force or power, threatened or actual, against oneself, another person, or against a group or community, that either results in or has a high likelihood of resulting in injury, death, psychological harm, maldevelopment, or deprivation.” So if the earth was full of violence according to that definition, it was absolutely dreadful. People were doing violence to themselves, to each other and to their communities.

God had give humankind dominion over the earth, they were to steward it but they had misused this power, turning it over to violence. Like I said earlier, all the good there had been was now consumed by wickedness. The inevitable trajectory of everything on earth was already destruction – before it was ever flooded it. So at this point there was no option other than to pull the plug. And the sooner the better. 

But Noah…

Then we hear these words: ‘But Noah’. This is the game changer. Genesis 6v8 says: “But Noah found favour in the eyes of the Lord”.

One man, among the entire human race had found favour in God’s eyes. Along with his family. Noah used his free will to choose to live righteously and to follow God.

Genesis 6v9 tells us more. It says: “Noah was a righteous man, blameless among the people of his time, and he walked faithfully with God.” To remain blameless in those days was quite a feat, with everything that was going on. And because of that choice, Noah became God’s lifeline. He restored God’s hope in humanity.

This points to Jesus. Jesus went voluntarily to the cross. he presented himself to God, surrendering himself saying: “Here I am, I have come to do your will”. Yes he was the son of God, but he too had free will. Noah had chosen the same.

So our righteousness and obedience create possibilities for God. Our faith and faithfulness enable God to move. 

The earth and the human race was already burned up and destroyed by wickedness. But Noah was a single glowing ember, one righteous man. He was the smouldering wick, and the bruised reed. And here we glimpse one of God’s ‘WHYs’ – In Isaiah and several of the gospels it says “A bruised reed he will not break, a smouldering wick he will not snuff out…” until he has brought about justice and victory – ultimately in Jesus. But he wasn’t going to snuff out even the vaguest hope that things could continue.

Righteousness and Relationship

Like Christ – Noah is a singular saving figure in his generation. Noah’s righteousness restored him to relationship with God. Jesus did this ultimately but Noah points to the restored relationship that comes through Christ’s righteousness. God talks with him. They are friends. ‘He walked faithfully with God.’ Here God is talking with Noah, sharing himself, his disappointments and then also his plans. Noah gives God hope, and from that glowing ember, new possibilities are born.

This story shows too how we’re partners with God in his plans and purposes. God prepared a life raft for Noah and his family. Yes he saved them but at the same time Noah’s righteousness offered God the potential to redeem humanity. He saved God right back. That feels a bit sacrilegious to say that, but this mutuality is really evident. Jesus does this too. This mutuality is a principle that runs through scripture, it’s integral to God’s values and to his design-rules. It’s at the heart of marriage and relationships: mutuality, mutual submission, mutual saving. God wants participants, collaborators, and volitional followers, friends, lovers. It was a huge risk encoding free will into the core of creation, it can and did go so very wrong but when people choose God, the outcome is awe-inspiring and wonderful. And as Noah signals, it was worth the risk. 

Instructions for an Ark

So God gives Noah instructions to build an Ark. The Ark itself points us to Christ as well. He is our Ark. He saves us as we place our faith and obedience in him. While Noah built a physical ark, Jesus through his death and resurrection was building a spiritual ark with eternal significance. It would mark an end to the problem of sin forever, ending the wickedness in the hearts of humanity. It was complete Salvation.

This also sets a precedent; that God is an Ark Builder. His inclination, his leaning, and his nature is always towards providing rescue. He will delay judgement as long as possible – he is merciful. We need to participate, but he will always provide the means of rescue. Jesus is our Ark – our rescue. 

Warren Buffett; a businessman, investor and philanthropist, who is known for his business know-how and wisdom (he’s also incidentally the 9th-richest person in the world and 93 years old). He cam up with something called ‘The Noah Rule’, which is that ‘predicting rain doesn’t count; building arks does’. And this rule is seen as key to surviving adversity. He described how his company, Berkshire Capital had a terrible year after 9/11 happened. He’d actually predicted many of the market events that happened before that terrible event in September 2001 (and as a result). But he acknowledged that he “didn’t convert thought to action”, and he violated what he termed ‘the Noah Rule’. 

For him the rain came, but he hadn’t built an Ark. 

Bias to action

Genesis 6 v 22 says “Noah did everything just as God commanded him”. Noah built an ark. This took trust, faith and obedience – born out of his righteous and relationship with God. This was the same for Jesus as he approached the cross. 

Faith has a bias to action. It’s called obedience. As it says in James, ‘faith without action is dead’. Faith is action. Why was Noah featured in the Hebrews ‘faith hall of fame’? Because he built an ark… Hebrews 11v7 says “By faith Noah, when warned about things not yet seen, in holy fear built an ark to save his family. By his faith he condemned the world and became heir of the righteousness that is in keeping with faith.” 

He was the forerunner of faith – he demonstrated what faith in action can accomplish. Jesus later would do this again and again (and other figures too). Jesus demonstrated this in miracles but also through his whole life. He was characterised by faith in action and his life on earth culminated with the miracle of resurrection. Death could not hold him. Acts 2:24 says “But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him”. 

And as the waters rose, with Noah and his family and all the animals inside the ark – did this not also foreshadow and point to Jesus’s death and resurrection? These echoes across the Bible.

Standing alone

So, the rains came down and flood came up. And in Genesis 7v23 it says, “Only Noah was left and those with him in the ark”. And there’s something here in there being a certain ‘aloneness’ in following God, and his righteousness. Earlier, Genesis describes how Noah was alone in his generation, in this moment he stands alone too.

And I’m also conscious of the silence there must have been. Water is quiet. The silence would have been deafening, you would feel so alone. Jesus too stood alone on the cross, raised up in death.

And I think that this silence points to Easter Saturday. That bleakest of days – forever marked by Jesus’s death. The disciples thought it was all over. Perhaps floating on that silent sea, Noah did too.

And for me, I imagine zooming out and looking at the earth as if from a satellite or space station. Not that they would have existed then! And seeing the entire earth submerged; no land, no nothing, just water covering the earth. And perhaps even indistinguishable from the vastness of space around it. The earth had all but ceased to exist. And then seeing this tiny pinprick, barely visible. The Ark. A seed of hope – all but dead – floating on that vast sea, but full of possibility nonetheless. It carried all the potential for new life.

Seeds of Faith

The ark was like a single seed, with all the DNA locked inside for life, packed with potential. A tiny mustard seed.

God is both at the vast macro level – the Universal. But he is also in the minute – in the micro level. He came to earth as a tiny foetus after all. And from the vantage point of space in the moment, the ark is a literal but microscopic seed of hope in the midst of despair and destruction. One seed of faith, one person, one possibility. 

Where does God see possibility? Wherever there is faith, there’s potential for God to move. Even in death and destruction, God will find potential. In a seed, in an ark floating with no obvious hope of making landfall, in a tomb even. God’s potential has no limits; no ceiling. No devastation is too great. All that is needed for God to move is faith, even faith the size of a mustard seed.

A New Beginning

What does this mean for us? When you think it’s all over: you’ve exhausted all your options or things have gone beyond the realms of what’s humanly possible, remember that faith makes it possible for God to move.

And that changes everything: it changes illness, infertility, loss, trauma, grief, hopelessness, death, failure, unemployment, homelessness, broken relationships, desperation and despair. Because Noah shows us that wherever there is faith, there is the potential for God to move. And to create a new beginning. 

© Alexandra Noel – all rights reserved 2024

Two-Tone & The People Who Made it

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Walking through the City on a cold February day, with Liverpool Street station behind me; I look for glimpses of the Barbican’s unmistakeable brutalism peering out between the surrounding glass and steel. Its architecture a monument to post-war rebuilding and a vision of 1980s aspirational living (it opened in 1982), it serves as a counterpoint to the austerity that revealed itself in the ‘winter of discontent’ of 1978-9. The late 70s were largely characterised by an influx of migrants, trade union strikes, brewing racial tensions and anti-government protests; creating an atmosphere not dissimilar to that of the last few years, and paved the way for the nascent Thatcherism that soon followed.

© Alexandra Noel
© Alexandra Noel
© Alexandra Noel
The Barbican’s unmistakable brutalism. Photos are author’s own.

On an otherwise-average weekday, the Barbican is buzzing when I arrive. Navigating the Escher-like maze of walkways, hallways and stairways is easier than it seems. Soon I find the Barbican Music Library – a quiet haven sequestered within the main library. Here is the reason for my visit: a lovingly curated exhibition charting the rise and influence of Two-tone; the multicultural music genre which signalled that racial integration was not only possible – it was serious fun.

The exhibition celebrates Two-tone music and the whole cultural scene that surrounded it; featuring an impressive array of memorabilia, stories and reminiscences from musicians, writers and plenty of fans. These are not only to be found in the displays – where individual stories tell of unforgettable experiences, but also in the pages of the visitors’ book packed with more memories of those times. The evident gratitude people feel for the exhibition and the opportunity to collectively remember, makes it clear that this is something special.

It also serves up a rich slice of recent British history and pays tribute to those who travelled to the UK from the Caribbean to support the war efforts of the first and second world wars, and to rebuild war-torn Britain afterwards. Amongst this contribution to British society, was the music which laid the foundations for Two-tone and more besides.

2 Tone Records – the eponymous music label, was launched by Jerry Dammers of The Specials in 1979. Based in Coventry it attracted groups and performers who had embraced Jamaican ska, rocksteady, reggae and dub – brought to the UK from the Caribbean, and combined it with Punk, and New Wave, music synonymous with the UK . This fusion came to define the two-tone sound. Though the label itself was short-lived (closing in 1981 after only two years); it left an indelible mark on the UK’s musical, and socio-political landscape.

The Specials performing their own brand of Two-tone

Delving into the wider context: war-time evoked strong feelings of patriotism across the British empire of the time. And thousands of men from the West Indies volunteered to fight against Britain’s enemies, eager to contribute to the war effort. Expecting to join established British regiments, they were kept back from active combat in WW1, and instead assigned to labouring and logistical roles until King George V intervened. As a result the British West Indies Regiment was formed as a distinct unit. Remarkably 15,600 men enlisted from across the Caribbean forming 11 battalions; with Jamaica contributing the majority. Three battalions were deployed to Egypt. While playing a ‘supporting role’ in the theatre of war, they fought the Ottoman Turks in Palestine and Jordan, distinguishing themselves by their courage and skilfulness in the particularly challenging desert conditions. This marked a turning point in British military history, including and recognising the essential contribution of non-white troops to the overall war effort.

Lead singer of the Bodysnatchers, Rhoda Dakar – a major contributor to the exhibition, shares her family’s story – especially that of her father Rudolph Dakar, known as André. It is intrinsically woven through the events of wartime Europe: “My father, having joined the British West Indian Regiment and gone off to Europe to fight in WW1, returned to Jamaica with his Military Medal but never settled. He arrived in London but left to travel around Europe; France, Belgium, Italy and all the way to Hungary.” 

In the 1920s André and his french-speaking Belgian wife – a pianist, settled in Paris where he built his music career, penning lyrics and writing songs. In the Paris of the 20s and 30s he was celebrated alongside other artists and luminaries of the time such as Louis Armstrong and Josephine Baker – his contemporaries in the Paris jazz scene. However, the outbreak of WWII forced him and his wife to the UK (he held a British passport). However, they weren’t received or celebrated in the same way they were in France. Rhoda describes his comparison of Paris and London: ‘He always said “in France if you speak French, you’re a Frenchman. In England you’re just another black man”’. 

Nonetheless, André Dakar made his way in London, and became a well-known figure emceeing a music night called The Antilles, and subsequently hosting a jazz club in Piccadilly. Rhoda remembers that he was always impeccably turned out. He was also fully furnished with stories of the politicians, actors, journalists, artists and musicians he encountered, including the occasional clandestine visit from a royal. During the 50s and 60s he turned to film and television which included appearing in The Avengers and Danger Man.

Another featured story is told by the broadcaster, writer and DJ, Tony Minvielle. His dad arrived in 1960 from St Lucia, securing a job as a printer – unusual for a person of colour – and was working his way up to becoming a Master Printer, attending the London College of Printing. His mum arrived in 1961 (also from St Lucia) and became a seamstress. But in 1966 his father was hit by a car, and tragically died of his injuries. This left his mum (then only 23) to raise Tony on her own, who managed with the help of several ‘aunties’ and working multiple jobs, but it wasn’t easy. When she faced racism she face it head-on, with an approach of “no messin’”. Soul and reggae music was always playing on their ‘radiogram’ at home; and Tony recalls how joyful and soothing he found it.

In their reminiscences, fans of Two-tone recall the influx of Jamaican culture into the UK, and how it made an indelible mark on life in London, and other cities – like Bristol – with significant Caribbean communities. Memories include hearing Ska and Bluebeat blaring from windows in London’s east end, seeing “snappily dressed [Jamaican] rude boys hanging out on street corners” speaking in Jamaican patois – and being irrepressibly drawn to the culture, readily adopting its style and music.

Photo by Author
Photo by Author
Photo by Author
Photos, recollections and memorabilia at the Barbican Two-tone exhibition

Many recollections focus on 1979, when Two-tone music burst onto the UK scene. Highlights were of seeing The Specials – either live, or on Top of the Pops, and how they embodied this new youth movement combining British and Jamaican heritage; the music, the clothes and the sensibilities – bringing the two cultures together (which the documentary ‘Dance Craze’ details). And this in stark opposition to the extreme nationalism and racism promoted by the National Front and similar organisations.

It can’t be emphasised enough how important Two-tone was to society at the time – both politically and socially. Britain in the late 70s was a burgeoning multicultural nation. But for the most part young people weren’t overthinking things; they were just mixing and absorbing each others’ cultures. Many of those who got into Two-tone, already had their musical roots in Punk – and were open to exploring new sounds. In fact, embracing a changing UK was to increase the energy, vitality and political relevance of Punk. David Burke who curates the exhibition with Mark Baxter shares that: “If punk was my first crush, then ska and soul would be my life partner, my religion and my guide, to hopefully living a life that embraced all cultures and influences.”

The name ‘Two-tone’ was derived from the racial mix of the groups, as well as the black and white outfits they wore; emblematic of their mission and values. It offered a beacon of hope amidst the racial tensions. But the vision of multiracial harmony epitomised by the bands just couldn’t be matched by their audiences. Fights would regularly break out in venues, often sparked by interlopers who fundamentally disagreed with what they were witnessing on stage – and who resisted it as a genuine vision for life in the UK. Rhoda Dakar tells of a gig she performed with the BodySnatchers which had to end abruptly because of fighting in the audience. Events like this would eventually signal the end of Two-tone, because they couldn’t continue on. 

In the end several bands, including the BodySnatchers, broke up in despair of the situation. And 2 Tone Records shut down in 1981. But as this exhibition shows, its legacy remains; not only in the music and memories, but in a set of values which welcomes immigrants to the UK, embraces their multicultural influences, dares to create something new, and in so doing adds a greater richness to society.

© Alexandra Noel – all rights reserved 2024.

Album Review: Tangk – Idles

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With their 5th album, TANGK, released on 16th February: IDLES are in a completely different mood.

TANGK album cover artwork. Courtesy of partisanrecords.com

Opener ‘Idea 01’ sets the tone with a lighter more lyrical feel. Dispensing with the reinforcing guitar-on-bass-on-kick-drum which characterises their distinctive sound; the open syncopated rhythm is disarming. Piano carries more of the percussive weight of this album too, also marking a more melodic direction. It builds to such a dense flurry in places that it’s almost overwhelming.

They continue their use of distortion, synths and electronic sounds from their previous album, Crawler. It intensifies with ‘Gift Horse’ – less raw, and more richly layered. The texturing creates a polyphonic soundscape, a welcome reprieve from the singular pile-driving rhythms, no longer needed to drive their point home.

But still marching forward nonetheless, always in motion.

Lead singer Joe Talbot is singing these days too, rather than shouting. His melody lines soar above the instruments. You can’t talk about IDLES without Talbot. He is the driving force and energy. A relentless kick drum in human form, he’s evidently more at rest now. More reconciled. No longer caught up in the thick of his trauma and triggered anxiety.

Their music has found its soul – looked itself in the mirror and discovered an interior life. Even in the high energy songs, there is a meditative quality. And there’s unquestionable joy too.

IDLES. Courtesy of partisanrecords.com

‘Pop Pop Pop’ makes you want to dance. Could that be said about their previous albums? Jumping, stomping perhaps… but dancing? No. It soars, it inspires: “Love is the thing”, Talbot sings.

‘Roy’ is a nostalgic 50s ballad, tempered by heavily distorted guitar. There are shades of rock and roll and references to the Kinks in song ‘Hall and Oates’. While ‘Grace’ channels Manic Street Preachers and Radiohead.

Talbot sings in a purring falsetto showing his vocal versatility to imbue lyrics with any emotion he chooses. You lean in as he repeats, “Love is the thing”.

Nostalgia is there in ‘Dancer’ too, a collaboration with LCD Soundsystem. The rush of strings at the outset evokes romantic old musicals, soon interrupted by thudding drums and pick-struck bass – “cheek to cheek and hip to hip” (a chorus of voices sing). Though the darker themes still tug, this album undoubtedly expresses a newfound freedom.

On ‘Gospel’ it’s hard not to picture late-night sessions at an old piano. It’s a more soulful sound, worshipful even. There’s an ethereal bitter-sweetness too.

Is Talbot still angry? I don’t know. But it’s more reflective now, empowered, repentant – the sober judgement that comes after the big fight. This is where you make your decisions and set your intentions. You have found your clarity.

‘Jungle’ combines all these elements, with a characteristic sense of urgency. “Save me from me, I’m found I’m found I’m found”, Talbot sings inferring a spiritual journey. From cosmic abandonment to coming home. Finally feeling heard, ‘Gratitude’ picks it up with driving metronomic beats, and thrashing guitars.

The final song ‘Monolith’ imposes itself with distorted piano and guitar strings struck like deadened bells. Metallic and space-like, it has an otherworldly quality. It ends implausibly with saxophone – a subtle reference to John Coltrane.

Talbot has transcended.

TANGK is IDLES’ Love Supreme.

© Alexandra Noel. All rights reserved February 2024