Mind Space

The Shape of Living; A book for Lent (1)

This week I'm going to review three books for Lent, which begins tomorrow.

The first is The Shape of Living by David F. Ford. It was first published ten years ago as a Lent book chosen by the last Archbishop of Canterbury (whose forward in the latest edition has been replaced with one by Susan Howatch; make of that what you will.)

David is a professor of theology at the University of Cambridge, and has written a book that speaks about the things of everyday life. The focus of the book is the way we shape our lives in the midst of all of the forces and experiences that threaten to overwhelm us. He draws on his academic's knowledge of history, theology and Christian tradition, but uses them to offer practical wisdom as we respond to the threats and opportunities that come our way. He shows that allowing ourselves to be overwhelmed by God is the best way not merely to cope with the overwhelmings of the world, but to thrive in the midst of them. Every chapter is realistic about the pain, business and emptiness of modern life, but he shows how we can turn those things to joy, stillness and riches.

An exceedingly wise, readable and practical book.

"...to concentrate on the face of Jesus Christ is to find our boundaries shifting and expanding as we slowly 'grasp what is the breadth and length and height and depth of Christ's love'. This is someone whose hospitality is universal - face by face by face. To be before his face is to find that he is looking with love on all sorts of unexpected, marginalized or to us disagreeable people, as well as on us. Wherever he is he brings them as part of his community. So we find our heart is overwhelmed in new ways by those to whom his gaze, words and actions direct us. Even more broadly, as the mention of light in darkness underlines, all creation is embraced in this love, and we are invited to look with delight and responsibility on 'the face of the earth'."

Enjoy your pancakes tonight!

Untold Stories

Untold Stories is Bennett’s latest collection of writings. As well as diaries, reflections on architecture and authors, and an account of developing his play The History Boys for the National Theatre, the book has at its heart a piece that shares its name with the whole collection. The Untold Stories essay tells of Allan Bennett’s family life, and in particular an account of the old age and death of his parents and aunts. This is Bennett at his finest; bold, warm and insightful. He tells of the quirks and peculiarities of his own family members, offering deeply personal and yet dispassionately insightful portraits of his mam and dad. The introduction to the work describes Bennett’s own experience with a cancer from which he did not expect to recover. That he did not expect to to live to see this work published is revealing; his analysis of the imperfections and emotional hang-ups of his family is borne of a wisdom gained from long years of thinking and a brush with death. In particular, he describes how his family concealed its own untold story, a dark secret from the past that was shrouded in silence for long years.

Bennett’s observational humour is as sharp as ever, but the real depth of this work lies in its study of family life. In reading it, I was drawn to reflect on my own family, and, I hope, to learn from Bennett’s wisdom. I have no doubt that I’m the better for it.