It is easy today to see and deplore the faults of past generations. And as easy to apologise for them. Of course past mistakes seen in the light of today’s understanding can and perhaps should be acknowledged and lessons learned. However I cannot repent of someone else’s sins. What about the faults of today, our faults?

A policeman knocked on my door to ask if my security cameras worked. They are on the outside of my house and show both sides of the street.  There had been a theft and the thief had run away from the victim down Braganza Street. The cameras do work and he found images of the thief on my iPad.

We talked about youth crime. When we compared notes we realised that fifteen years ago where the policeman lived when he was a teenager, and at the same time here in Kennington, there were youth clubs – church and secular – Cubs, Brownies, Scouts, Boys Brigade units and Girls Brigade. No doubt there were other youth organisations as well. Now there are none. There are gangs.

One of the main reasons for this situation, we agreed, is that ‘Safeguarding Measures’, introduced to protect the young, are so complicated and time consuming that volunteers for youth clubs are simply not prepared to go through the hassle of getting the necessary ‘clearance’ to work with the young. You don’t have to do a safeguarding course to lead a gang.

One of the results of restrictions during the covid epidemic was the separation of people. Visiting family or friends was forbidden and to hug or to touch was out of the question. To hug a child outside your own family is also questionable under safeguarding guidelines.

Some years ago as I waited to pay at Waitrose I watched an elderly woman chatting with the, I think Philippina check out woman. She held her hand. When she realised she was holding up the queue she apologised profusely and said to me something like, “I’m so sorry but I live by myself and it’s wonderful just to touch someone.” I can’t remember what I said in return but she and I ended up sitting on a bench against the wall talking. I had my arm around her shoulders. I was wearing a clerical collar so I think that helped.

I heard recently of an incident at an old people’s home. One of the carers was washing the hands of an elderly resident with dementia who never spoke. The water was warm and he held her hand as he gently washed it. Out of the blue she said, “I have three children,” and she named them, correctly as it later turned out. The carer believes it was the touch that unlocked her voice.

The Christian tradition includes a lot of being together and of touching. The Eucharist is a communion with God and one another. Then there is the holding of an infant in Baptism for the pouring of water and the touch of the Bishop’s hands on the head at confirmation and ordination. Christian worship, ‘when two or three are gathered together’, makes the Church, ‘ecclesia’,  the Greek for an assembly of people. Zoom worship however useful doesn’t involve a real ‘gathering’.  There is no touch.

I think the future may judge us harshly for our separation of people under the guise of protection. Perhaps nothing breaks community or stifles relationships more than refusing to take a risk in love.

That other Greek word, Eucharist – Thanksgiving – may well be another area in which the future may judge us poorly: for our lack of it. We seem to be brilliant at blame but not at gratitude.

What of balance? Take Colonialism, certainly the cause of some terrible wrongs but it also often brought political, judicial, educational and health benefits. We deride nineteenth century missionaries in Hawaii, for example, for requiring women to cover their nakedness and to wear muumuus. Do we acknowledge that those same missionaries put an end to the practice of human sacrifice especially of girl babies?

Perhaps we will be judged for our love of negativity.

At coffee after church at St Agnes I said, “Why don’t we have a working bee.” There was a surprised silence. “You know,” I added, “to tidy up the church grounds.”  ”But what have bees to do with it?” I was asked.

Only after some investigation did I discover that the term ‘working bee’, for a group of volunteers undertaking a common task usually for a charitable cause, is peculiar to New Zealand. In England sewing bees yes, working bees no.

I’d discovered some time ago that while I grew up putting ‘sippets’ in my soup people in England were putting ‘croutons’ in theirs. The Edwardian English adopted many French terms leaving behind the 19^th Century words. My great grandfather in Devon had sippets in his soup and we continued to do so at Mt Peel in my youth.

‘Skiting’ was deplored in my New Zealand childhood and there were no ‘skites’ in England when I arrived here in 1962. There were some ‘show offs’ though, and ‘showing off’ was equally frowned upon. Different words with the same meaning. Now, thank goodness, children who show enthusiasm or talent are applauded not reprimanded.

There’s a story which illustrates the shifts in the meanings of words over time.

During the construction of St Paul’s Cathedral, it is said, the king was taken on a tour of the works by the chief architect, Sir Christopher Wren.  When the excursion was complete the king told Wren that the new building was amusing, awful, and artificial. Wren did not feel insulted. He was very pleased. In the 1600s amusing meant amazing, awful meant awe-inspiring, and artificial meant artistic. 

Whether the event happened or not the meaning of the words then is clear.  

And ‘amusing’ has had a very varied history. When Cousin Mary told me sometime in the 1980s that her manservant had cried when she left Persia in the early 1900s, she said, “it was most amusing.” And she did not mean ‘funny’. She was very affected by his tears.

Nowadays words seem to change their meaning very quickly certainly as far as slang is concerned ‘evil’ and ‘wicked’ have no negative connotations at all in some contexts. While the ‘cool’ of the sixties had nothing to do with temperature nor does the ‘sharp’ used by my optician to describe my  new spectacle frames have anything to do with knives.

My age seems to excuse me in my use and misuse of many words. However when it comes to politically correct speech I walk through a minefield and am likely to be ‘blown up’ at any miss step.

It is Saturday and I’ve just come back from my local Farmers’ Market. It’s what I do on Saturday mornings. The market is in the grounds of St Mark’s Church across the road from Oval tube Station. The pavements around the station were swarming with people. It was difficult to get through. They were not going to the market. There was cricket at The Oval. A Test Match. Day three of England versus Australia. And the crowd? Those going to watch the cricket at The Oval this morning were racially diverse and almost totally male. I’m surprised the law allows it!

The fires on Rhodes and Corfu continue to make headlines with horrifying images on television news. Fire is terrifying. It must be dreadful for those involved, locals and tourists. The Greek economy with tourism a major part of it is bound to be adversely affected. From the news it would be easy to imagine the whole of the Island of Rhodes is being evacuated. It is not. The destruction and devastation is serious. No injuries have been reported.

In one report today online I read:

‘Wildfires continued to burn across Greece on Monday, with the islands of Rhodes and Corfu – both popular tourist spots – worst affected.’

The report continues with stories of ’panic’ and ’hysteria’.  The stories of individual tourists and what is happening to them make frightening reading.

I have friends holidaying in Corfu. This morning I sent a WhatsApp message wondering if they were ok. I had this reply,

“We’re fine thank you. In the thirty years we’ve been coming to Corfu there have always been wildfires some very close indeed to us. The fire services and the locals put them out. These ones aren’t close and they worked through the night on them and apparently have almost done so. The panic was caused by a new municipal disaster policy which was implemented for the first time yesterday. Everyone got alerts their phones. Caused panic among the first time tourists. Locals bemused.”

Near the end of the long online report I read: 

‘The UK Government is not advising people against travelling to Rhodes, despite the fires.

Mr Mitchell (a Foreign Office minister) said: “It’s important to remember that only 10 per cent of the island is affected by these fires. And therefore it is the tourist companies and the holiday experts who are best placed to give guidance on whether or not a family or individuals’ holidays are going to be ruined by these events.

“What we’re telling people to do is to keep in touch with their tourist company, and that is the right advice.”

Can we rely on clear factual news from the television news and print media?

We ‘did’ Shakespeare’s, ‘All the world’s a stage,’ speech from Act 2 of ‘As You Like It’ when I was at school and it must have registered as I still remember much of it, not least:

‘Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.’

I still have all of my own teeth, some of them bought at a price from a wonderful dentist, and as for the rest I’m not doing too badly. I have however been thinking lately about purpose and in particular the purpose of old age.

The purpose of Alzheimer’s or its equivalents is different and is about community. I’m thinking about my purpose ‘compos mentis’ now.

A good friend quoted Powell to me the other day, “Old age is like being increasingly penalised for a crime which you never committed.” That is fine except that some of the negatives of old age are clearly caused by our own behaviour and habits earlier on in life. And many of society’s ills are clearly caused by our collective past practices.

When my mother was in her nineties she quoted, “Old age is not for sissies.” And she, always positive throughout her life, added, “It sometimes takes until eleven in the morning for me to feel positive about the day ahead.”

There is of course a fundamental question as to whether there needs to be any purpose in life at all. I believe there is. It has something to do with living life to the full.

So far in my thinking I’ve managed to divide life into three sections each with a different emphasis. It’s not a matter of ’either or’, or, ’all or nothing’. It is primary emphases. 

The emphasis of the first stage of life seems to me to be on the body and the whole business of growing up physically. Of course we are integrated beings and everything is involved but I’m thinking chiefly or primarily.

 Then I think the emphasis shifts to that of the mind and using the mind. That’s the second stage or phase. This is middle age.

In the third stage, old age, the emphasis (and this is the stage I’m interested in especially because I’m in it,) is the spirit. Is this the age of the spirit? Or, as a friend put it at lunch the other day, of reflection. Could this be the mood of the third stage?

We’ve rather lost it in the West but in the past here and in other cultures old age is the age of experience and wisdom to be respected and learned from. This, I think, is the age of the spirit – the age of the deeper realities, the spiritual realities.

If this is the case it’s doesn’t really matter if others want to learn from their elders or not. If ‘they’ don’t want or value us does it matter? That may be their loss not ours. What is important surely is that I, at this stage, live life fully.

The worship of youth is the fault of my generation not theirs. In the same way, ‘He (or she) is so spoilt,’ when said in condemnatory tones about a child is surely the fault of the spoiler not the spoilt. 

The Fifth Commandment: ‘Honour thy father and thy mother; that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee,’ has long since disappeared from the knowledge of the nation. Somewhere from the sixties or seventies we began to idolise our children and another commandment went down the drain with that.

But none of this need prevent those of us who are older giving full value and purpose to the time of life we have now. I think my time may be about reflection, understanding (or trying to) and learning. And all of that seems to me quite interesting and not in the least like punishment.