On the Beach, and Krakatoa.

Sixty years or so ago I read the gripping novel 'On the Beach' by Nevil Shute. 
 
It was made into a movie in 1959, which was one of the first movies to have simultaneous premieres throughout the world, and was hailed by the press at the time as one of the greatest movies ever made. 
 

This is the dust-jacket blurb about the book:

After a nuclear World War III has destroyed most of the globe, the few remaining survivors in southern Australia await the radioactive cloud that is heading their way and bringing certain death to everyone in its path. Among them is an American submarine captain struggling to resist the knowledge that his wife and children in the United States must be dead. Then a faint Morse code signal is picked up, transmitting from somewhere near Seattle, and Captain Towers must lead his submarine crew on a bleak tour of the ruined world in a desperate search for signs of life. On the Beach is a remarkably convincing portrait of how ordinary people might face the most unimaginable nightmare.

I suspect that Shute's idea of a nuclear cloud gradually covering the earth and killing all life as it moved southwards might owe something to the real disaster of 1883 when the volcanic island of Krakatoa exploded in the South Pacific, causing the loudest noise ever heard in history -  a noise that circled the earth five times.  It created an ash cloud, which also gradually circled the earth. The result was that in the year following the 1883 Krakatoa eruption, average Northern Hemisphere summer temperatures fell by as much as 1.2 degrees C. Weather patterns continued to be chaotic for years, and temperatures did not return to normal until 1888. The Krakatoa eruption injected an unusually large amount of sulphur dioxide gas high into the stratosphere which was subsequently transported by high level winds all over the planet. The resulting increase in cloud reflectivity reflected more incoming light from the sun than usual, and cooled the entire planet. (Info from Wikipedia). It's interesting to think, in these days of global warming, that another such event could completely reverse the warming process.

 

When I read 'On the Beach' as a young man all those years ago, I was as impressed by it as most readers were. But there was one aspect which I felt was unrealistic. Faced with disaster and almost certain death, many people in his story adopted an attitude of 'let us eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die'.  I know it wasn't Shute's responsibility in a thriller to cover all possibilities, but I do remember thinking 'There's something missing here; there's no mention of the Church.'   In my blog entry of 19th September 2019 I mentioned Robert Harris's new apocalyptic novel 'The Second Sleep' in which, more realistically, it is the churches that provide the local centres where survivors congregate - at first for shelter and security, and gradually for spiritual support and a theological explanation of the tragedy.  This is in contrast to Shute's novel, and also in contrast to George Orwell's '1984' where the inevitable role of the church and its members is ignored too.  Novels, particularly thrillers, don't have to have a theological content, of course. Nevertheless true realism would recognise that people have a spiritual side to their characters, and in times of peril would turn to churches for practical and spiritual support. It's just one of the reasons why we should nurture, support and strengthen our church fellowships during the good times too.

Heaven's Gate.

One of our favourite places.
This viewpoint over the Longleat estate is accessed from a carpark  by a beautiful half-mile footpath

If you click on a picture it will fill your screen.

Lacock Abbey

Click on a picture to enlarge it

                                                                 
                                                                           Haha

                                                                    What's cooking?

Could this be the oldest medieval map of Africa ever?  Discovered by me on the wall of the sacristy. It lloks as though antarctic ice cover was larger in the Middle Ages too!   (!!!)

Box Tunnel in the olden days.

Box Tunnel in the early days:   from Kilvert's diary.

18^th May 1870: Went from Chippenham to the Bath Flower Show in Sydney Gardens. The carriage was nearly full. In the Box tunnel as there was no lamp, the people began to strike foul brimstone matches and hand them to each other all down the carriage. All the time we were in the tunnel these lighted matches were travelling from hand to hand in the darkness. Each match lasted the length of the carriage and the red ember was thrown out of the opposite window, by which time another lighted match was seen travelling down the carriage. The carriage was chock full of brimstone fumes, the windows both nearly shut, and by the time we got out of the tunnel I was almost suffocated. Then a gentleman tore a lady's pocket handkerchief in two, seized one fragment, blew his nose in it, and put the rag in his pocket. She then seized his hat from his head, while another lady said that the dogs of Wootton Bassett were much more sociable than the people

Churchgoing

Churchgoing.

It's an obvious fact that churchgoing in UK is in decline.  We often meet people who say they believe in God, but don't go to church.  Their reasons vary, but it is sometimes because they have experienced some hurt or neglect, or in some cases abuse, in a church context in the past. By contrast, churchgoing is on the rise in some very unlikely places. In  China, for example, Christians have survived the worst that Communism could throw at them even in the days of Mao Tse-Tung and the Red Guards. Today Christianity and churchgoing both thrive in China despite continuing harassment and persecution.  Likewise in Russia: during the decades when the USSR tried to stamp out religion and closed the churches, Christianity survived and eventually thrived again.

I have been attending church all my life, and I believe that a properly functioning church community has something very special to offer.  I'm very fortunate to be part of an active church which, in addition to regular worship and mutual support, provides practical help to the neighbourhood - e.g. free debt and money advice, free toddlers group, support for the local food bank and so on. 

I've just read an article in the newspaper by the best-selling novelist Robert Harris, who was writing about novels (including his own) which depict  future disasters. He writes: "The most enduring of all dystopian novels, George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-four, appeared in 1949, and its vision of a surveillance society - telescreens, Big Brother, the Thought Police - in which objective truth has been eradicated ('2+2=5') made it a best seller all over again in 2018, following the election of Donald Trump.  But there was one big thing Orwell got wrong. His friend Evelyn Waugh put his finger on it in a letter to Orwell after receiving an advance copy. 'What makes your vision of the future spurious to me is the disappearance of the Church. Disregard all the supernatural implications if you like, but you must admit its unique character as a social and historical institution. I believe it is inextinguishable.' Waugh's prophecy came true in Poland in the 1980s where it was the Catholic Church that did much to undermine the communist monolith in eastern Europe. There are about 40,000 churches in England and Wales. It is likely that these structures - or their ruins - built mostly of stone and dating from an earlier epoch, will continue to stand long after modern buildings have collapsed. In my new novel - The Second Sleep - it is the churches that provide the local centres where survivors congregate - at first for shelter and security, and gradually for spiritual support and a theological explanation of the tragedy.' "  (Harris's novel is about civilisation collapsing into a dark age when cyber-attacks cause the internet to collapse - and along with it cashpoints, electronic tills, mobile phones, and therefore the ability to communicate and to go shopping collapses).

Churches are places where people of shared faith meet.  They might be a disparate bunch who would have little else to bring them together, but they come together nevertheless - young, old, rich, poor, healthy, sick and disabled -  a bigger social mix than any other organisation offers. By so doing, they are preserving something that society at large neglects at its peril.

Henry Prior and Trafalgar

I have done some research on the Battle of Trafalgar and discovered that my great-great-great uncle Henry Prior was master's mate on HMS Belleisle at the Battle of Trafalgar.

Wikipedia tells me that

HMS Belleisle was the second ship in the British lee column at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805, and as such was engaged by the Franco-Spanish ships Achille, Aigle,Neptune, Fougueux, Santa Ana, Monarca and San Juan Nepomuceno.. She was soon completely dismasted (the only British ship which suffered that fate), unable to manœuvre and largely unable to fight, as her sails blinded her batteries, but kept flying her flag for 45 minutes until the British ships behind her in the column came to her rescue. With 33 dead and 93 wounded, she was then towed to Gibraltar after the battle by the frigate HMS Naiad.

Yesterday I was reading the novel Moontide by E.V. Thompson and came across the following:
Toby Lovell said to the sad-eyed woman "You have my deepest sympathy on the loss of your husband, ma'am. On what ship was he serving in Nelson's fleet?"
"Thank you for your kind commiseration, sir. My husband was the commander of the Belleisle."
"The Belleisle!" Toby repeated the name of the ship with an almost reverent respect. "I trust you will one day allow pride to ease the pain you are feeling right now, ma'am. The Belleisle fought a magnificent battle. To watch her follow Admiral Collingwood into action, taking on and defeating ship after ship, was sheer joy. It gave added incentive to every sailor in Nelson's fleet to fight just that little bit harder than the enemy. It's such examples that win battles - and ultimately the war too, I hope."
"You were at Trafalgar, Curate Lovell?" Reverend Trist voiced his surprise.
"Yes, sir. I was chaplain on a frigate. The wounds I received there forced me to leave the service and take the post of curate here."
Sally murmured sympathetically before asking, eagerly, "You actually saw the Belleisle go into action, Mr Lovell?"
"I did. We were at the end of the line and saw every detail of the battle before we too engaged the enemy. When we saw her run aboard the Fougueux there was a cheer from our crew such as I had never heard before. There was no ship in the fleet fought more bravely, you have my word for it."

HMS Belleisle at 12.15 at Trafalgar

                                                        

HMS Belleisle dismasted

Corfe Castle, Swanage, Studland and Kimmeridge Bay

Corfe Castle, Swanage, Studland and Kimmeridge Bay
Click on any picture and it will fill your screen.

Some photos taken at Dyrham Park, near Bath

S

Ebenezer

I was 8 years old before my parents told me that my full name was Michael Raymond Ebenezer Prior.  I was enormously upset, as the only Ebenezer I had ever heard of was  Ebenezer Scrooge.  For years I tried to ensure that none of my friends would find out my 'extra' name.  When I was a bit older I shared my embarrassment with a senior pastoral officer at a boys' Christian summer camp, only to discover later that he had not kept my story confidential but had told someone else, who laughingly told me that he knew about it.  I was mortified.

But I now have a completely different perspective on it. Ebenezer was a name shared by my great-grandfather, my grandfather, my father and myself, and also years ago by our family business, Ebenezer Prior Ltd.

(See my blog entry of September 10th 2007)

The name Ebenezer is an ancient Hebrew word, meaning 'Stone of Help'.  When the Hebrews were settling in the Promised Land, after they had escaped from Egypt, they were in grave danger from the pagan Philistines.  We are told in the bible, in 1 Samuel 7, this story:

While Samuel was sacrificing the burnt offering, the Philistines drew near to engage Israel in battle. But that day the Lord thundered with loud thunder against the Philistines and threw them into such a panic that they were routed before the Israelites. ¹¹ The men of Israel rushed out of Mizpah and pursued the Philistines, slaughtering them along the way to a point below Beth Kar.¹² Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer,  saying, “Thus far the Lord has helped us.”¹³ So the Philistines were subdued and they stopped invading Israel’s territory. Throughout Samuel’s lifetime, the hand of the Lord was against the Philistines.

I come from a line of deeply committed Christians,  and am profoundly grateful for that.  Looking back on my lifetimes thus far, I'm now proud to say 'Thus far has the Lord helped me'.