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Last night Helen saw Nye the National Theatre production starring Michael Sheen as pioneering Welsh politician, Aneurin(Nye) Bevan – usually considered the founder of the National Health Service. The play began with Nye dying of stomach cancer in his hospital bed wearing his red pyjamas. Subsequent flashbacks into his family life, his progress from nervous stammerer learning to fight injustice and stand up to power in his school in the form of a bullying teacher and on through the ups and downs of his political career. Sheen as Nye moved throughout the play barefoot and still wearing his red pyjamas. Bevan grew up cheek by jowl with deprivation in a mining community where the miners’ ability to earn money fluctuated according to the whims of capitalist mining companies. The effects of these fluctuations on the bodies and minds of the miners’ and their families were something Nye knew first hand. He never forgot and was determined that no one else should forget either. In the face of powerful opposition from the medical profession who feared that they might lose both money and control, as Minister for Health, Bevan finally achieved the establishment of the National Health Service in 1948. It offered universal health care based on clinical need and free at the point of delivery.  It was a remarkable achievement for the boy from the Welsh Valleys. The red pyjamas were a dramatic reminder of Nye's refusal to don the fancy dress and ideas of more conventional politicians who operated without personal knowledge of the physical lives: the work lives and the everyday states of health of the people they were supposed to represent. Nye’s bare feet reminded us all of human vulnerability. Nye never forgot that he was a vulnerable human being serving other vulnerable human beings. When several years ago we first ticked the box on some administrative form confirming that we were humans not robots, we thought it was amusing. We treated it as a bit of a joke. But these days, we hardly think about it. We bank, buy travel tickets, fill the car up with petrol or the kitchen with groceries, without speaking to a soul. We live in a world where transactions are supposed to be quicker – and they can be - but when the machines go wrong, just try getting through to a real human being on most helplines! Life is becoming sometimes disturbingly impersonal. We heard about the end of a meeting recently where someone suggested that there should be a press release on the decisions taken. One member of the committee presented the one he had just ‘written’. He had put some keywords into a computer programme which was aware of his writing style or at least the style of the meeting and hey presto! he produced a report at the press of a button. It needed some editing but basically it was fit for purpose. Academic friends share that bots can write essays and papers for students in schools, colleges and universities in a given style and it can be difficult to know that the author was not human. From all we have seen of ChatGB, there seems no doubt a bot could write this blog for us in our style if we gave it a few instructions! It's clear that nobody really knows the meaning of all these artificial intelligence developments for the human race and for so many endeavours that are important to human flourishing. Artistic and creative pursuits, compassionate responses, humour, insight arising initially from human error are in the very fabric of our existence. But one thing is clear – and Nye had it right - if we ignore the existence and needs not just of our own bodies but especially the bodies of people less fortunate than we are, our humanity is under threat! Photo: Time Out Johan Persson

Eating peanuts and other foods can be deadly activities for some people. A new book by Professor Alex Edmans reviewed in the Observer last Sunday warns that some ideas may be equally deadly for our world. The book is called May Contain Lies. In his review of the book, the social commentator, Will Hutton, extracts from the book some useful skills to guard us against toxic ideas especially in the face of elections in the UK and the USA this year. ‘Learn to entertain a thought without necessarily accepting it’ – Aristotle said that particular skill marks an educated mind. ‘Stay open to the thought that you may be wrong  and test your ideas against those who think differently’. ‘Beware anyone who claims to have found the Holy Grail in any field. They usually haven’t!’ Look at the credentials of the ‘line-spinner’ – what incentive do they have not to be truth tellers? All of these skills are vital. We have learned the truth of some of them the hard way! But if pressed too far they can produce a kind of cynicism about everything. One man who for us, credibly discouraged the drift into cynicism was Jonathan Sacks, formerly Chief Rabbi of the UK, who died in 2020, Just before he died, he published his last book, Morality. Sacks argues that we can move towards ‘restoring the Common Good in Divided Times’ (Morality’s subtitle). We may have very different ideas. We may argue fiercely about what is good for us all. But we can nevertheless share the idea that there is some notion of the Common Good which it is worth striving for, and that it is possible to do it peacefully. Sacks held on to this conviction even against the background of so much abusive talk and violence in the world, not least that directed against his own people. He held on to this conviction because he had witnessed so much human generosity displayed in times of adversity, so much unity of spirit shown in distressing times. There was the astonishing selflessness shown by medical staff during the worst days of Covid. There was the immense courage shown by firefighters in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. He argues that such commitment to the Public Good is on display on a small scale every day if we just look. This week we heard an interview on Channel 4 News with another Jewish commentator - one of Benjamin Netanyahu’s former advisers. ‘What do you think is Netanyahu’s strategy in his war with the Palestinians?’ asked the reporter. ‘Simply to perpetuate his own political power’, said the Israeli advisor. So what difference can we make in the face of lies and fake news from politicians like Netanyahu? They have no interest in truth or the public good. Only in the triumph of their own toxic narratives. Only in power for themselves and their cronies. We all know times and places and people where, in the face of external political threats human beings can become their best selves and work together. People like Edmans and Sacks have used their different skills to keep alive the conviction that some values and ideas are true and good. The more of us who can find the courage to use our own gifts, our time, our energy and other resources like everyday conversations and social media, the greater will be the antidote to toxicity. The alternative is to capitulate to the tide of a self-absorbed relativism and cynicism.

If you’re in the UK and you had a vote yesterday in the local elections, we hope you used it. We owe it to our children and grandchildren to express a view in a lawful way. Freedom of the press, freedom of speech and association are principles which have been hard won. We dare not ignore them.  I thought about this last Sunday as the customer in front of me paid for his newspaper: I hope he doesn’t believe everything he reads in that paper! It was an unworthy thought. I suppose he might have thought the same if he’d spotted the broadsheet in my hand. But the influence of the media is such an important topic! Today Friday 3 May is designated by UNESCO World Press Freedom Day. Why do we need one? Why should it matter to us? Basically, because the less we know, the more corruption the powerful people can get away with. Some media and their readers are interested more in entertaining stories regardless of their veracity; a minority is concerned with at least trying to get to the truth about our complicated and often confusing world. The good thing is that despite the majority of the British media being controlled by right-leaning news organisations, our newsagent still has a choice of titles covering a spectrum of issues and a wide range of opinion. There are corrupt politicians and governments that want to gain or retain power by concealing inconvenient truths from us. Our own country is not exempt. Here and in many places elsewhere there are elections in the coming year. Constant media reports telling of irresponsible and unattributed use of social media suggest that the list of people who could care whether little about whether they win by fair means or foul, is getting longer. There are corporations which want to satisfy their shareholders by maximising profits often at the expense of the marginal people who have few ways of defending their own interests. The indigenous peoples of the world whose land sits on valuable resources see their homes and livelihoods destroyed by greedy multinationals with an eye only to profit. There are powerful industrial groups who care little for damage to the environment if land and sea can yield profitable raw materials. There are governments which will stop at nothing to prevent opponents from questioning the official state narrative. Alexei Navalny is just one courageous recent case in point of one who gave his life for the cause of truth. And then there is the immense power of organised crime which recognises absolutely no rules about the dignity of human life. Anyone who gets in the way of their greed is silenced. Holding all these groups to account is the work of good journalists who go to dangerous places at home and abroad and try to report honestly what they see.  Supporting them is vital to our democracy. We often only know about the horrors inflicted on minorities thanks to the bravery of journalists. According to one news outlet “no war has killed so many journalists so quickly” as the war in Gaza, mostly Palestinian. In 2023 a total of 99 reporters are confirmed to have lost their lives worldwide in the business of reporting from dangerous places. And we should not forget the editors who face difficult decisions as to whether to publish, and who may also pay a high price both personal and professional for doing so. All of this becomes even more important in a world where most people get their information from online sources which are not subject to serious scrutiny for their truthfulness. The battle against fake news and various forms of disinformation is fought by people who take risks. They may pay with their lives but will more often be subject to online personal abuse and intimidation. Press freedom is part of the whole fragile plant of democratic freedom maintained with incorruptible justice and supporting democracy. Without it, we descend into anarchy or repression of various sorts. We must hang on to the possibility of knowing the truth about what is happening!

On our recent trip to Hereford, we came across a beautiful side chapel in the Cathedral with two pairs of fabulous modern stained glass windows by the stained glass artist and painter Thomas Denny. They commemorate the 17th century Herefordshire poet and cleric Thomas Traherne who made a life work of seeking ‘Felicity’. He wrote these words: “You never Enjoy the world aright, till the Sea itself floweth in your Veins. Till you are clothed with the Heavens, and Crowned with the Stars”. “Love…whispers in every Gale of Wind, and speaks aloud in Thunder…It…drops down upon us in Every Shower”. I wish I had remembered the second quotation this week when I was moaning during a zoom call to a friend in the USA: ‘It’s been raining since Christmas’. But it is not true. On this damp, grey April day it just seemed like that but as I write the sun is shining and there are large patches of blue sky. On our recent week away, we saw quite a lot of the sun and it really did not rain much at all though the clouds did often race across the skies. In February I was actually able to sit outside reading in a sunny sheltered spot on several days. Most days we have been able to go for our daily walks without getting caught in a shower. Of course, those of us who are retired do have the luxury of picking our moments while those who are limited by work hours or family obligations do not. And it is also true that we have had exceptionally high levels of rainfall so far this year so that some areas of the country have suffered severe flooding. But why did I say such a thing? The countryside looks wonderfully full of life just now. From my window I can see at least a dozen different shades of green. In the garden the plants have taken advantage of such a full supply of moisture and are full of promise for the coming months. So why did I take refuge in this gloomy generalisation? I suppose very often we pick our generalisations to fit our moods. And often we generalise in defiance of the evidence. So what might I learn from this convenient and lazy lie to myself? Something that the process of ageing and the ups and downs of life teach you every day you are alive. And that is to live in the moment. ‘Carpe diem’. Seize the day. Savour the moment, see the shape of the day, find the peculiar texture of the day…and it may be a rough texture sometimes. It is very easy to get caught up in nostalgia - a wistful yearning for a time which was never quite as good as it seems in our memories. It is just as easy to get caught up in the future, in planning – and often worrying about – a future which so often turns out differently from what we envisage. It can waste so much emotional energy. It sounds easy enough but is remarkably difficult to live. It has something to do with paying attention. Attention to this truly breathtaking natural world in which we live and take for granted. Attention to shapes and shades and textures and sounds and scents. For so many years I rushed past these on some errand which seemed important then. Attention also to people in all their infinite variety. Their gifts, their needs, their eccentricities. It is very easy to create a caricature – which is in the same family as generalisations – and rush past their unique self. It is worth wondering whether beneath these facades there is a gift on offer to us, if only we have eyes to identify it. Traherne was right when he said: “Maturity consists in not losing the past while fully living in the present with a prudent awareness of the possibilities of the future.” So now I am going for a walk…in the sunshine! The quotations are from Centuries of Meditations and The Kingdom of God

We’re just back from a brief jaunt to Great Malvern. The journey itself was one of the treats of the trip. ‘O to be in England now that April’s there...’ Herefordshire and Worcestershire are Heart of England territory. So green, so full of springtime, so bursting, so...so...English. The inspiration for Elgar’s ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ with lyrics by A. C. Benson spread out before us. As we got nearer we found various signposts to ‘The Elgar Trail’. More by accident than design in most cases, we followed in some of the footsteps of the great composer. We discovered a reminder of the great man in the Hereford Cathedral Close and his burial place not far from where we stayed. We learned some of the secrets of his genius on a visit to his birthplace in a tiny country cottage in the village of Upper Broadheath about two miles from Worcester. We arrived a couple of hours before closing time hoping just to catch the spirit of this genius who claimed that, all his life, deep within him was still that child who had sat by the River Severn ‘with a sheet of paper trying to fix the sounds and longing for something very great....’ We did discover that his ambitions were clearly about more than the music in which he was self-taught. He told his adoring mother, ‘I will not rest until I have received a letter from abroad addressed, “Edward Elgar, England”! In the tiny birthplace cottage with its traditional black coal-fired stove downstairs, we viewed a fairly random collection of Victorian artefacts associated with the great man. The rest of the exhibition offered further suggestions that genius rarely thrives in a vacuum. Elgar had many friends of both genders whom he often named in connection with his works. As a man, he seemed to inspire great devotion and self-sacrifice in women – even those, like his daughter Carice, whom one observer thought paid a price for her father’s success! We learned that Carice’s schoolteacher was troubled by the repressed daughter of genius in her class. The Elgar child, the teacher eventually discovered, was under orders to stay silent at home so as not to interrupt her father’s composing work. Her father’s idea that there was ‘music in the air’ of which we ‘simply take as much as we require’ seemed not always to include the music of his daughter’s voice! There was a great deal of evidence that this limitation on her childhood seemed not to have spoilt Carice’s affection and admiration for her father with whom she was a regular, devoted correspondent. Many of the artefacts in the cottage offered evidence of her commitment to establishing and conserving his archive and reputation by appealing publicly for Elgar mementoes and working with Worcester council to fulfil his dying wish that he should be remembered at the cottage. Elgar’s wife, Alice, was ‘a published author and poet in her own right’.  She came from ‘semi-aristocratic Anglican stock’ and was disinherited when she became a Roman Catholic to marry the shopkeeper’s son Elgar - eight years her junior. He described her as ‘the immovable rock of his life’ during their 31 year marriage. To us, perhaps the greatest evidence of her support was displayed in one of the museum showcases – a five-pronged pointed tool called a ‘rastrum’ used to draw musical lines on paper that had not been pre-ruled. She ruled the paper. He wrote the musical notes. ‘The care of a genius,’ said Alice, ‘is enough of a life work for any woman!’ Whether they are male or female, every genius, and probably each of us in our own small way, needs someone to ‘rule the paper’! If we did that for each other not just England but the world might be a place of 'hope and glory'.

This week we attended the inaugural memorial lecture* for the former Chief Rabbi, Lionel Sacks who died in 2020. It was given by his friend, Gordon Brown, former UK Prime Minister. Brown is the son of a Church of Scotland minister whose Christian faith is probably less well known than his reputation as an economic genius who was widely credited with a leading contribution to dragging the world out of recession when he was chairman of the G20 in 2009. The two men were friends for many years, united by their interest in what both saw as ‘The Politics of Hope. The event programme quoted Sacks: ‘The good society is one that offers its members equal access to hope’.  Brown acknowledged 'Jonathan taught me the importance of civic society…’. The two leaders from two different faiths shared what sometimes sounded Utopian - the belief that hope is best nurtured in a country where we build a common inclusive home. A home for everyone, not a common hotel, not a common business contract but a home where a covenant is built on a set of beliefs and values shared between diverse people. Sacks’ daughter, Gila spoke of the Jewish word for faith as something which means faithful action, not necessarily belief only. We were tempted to ask – is this sort of hope, a dream shared by two powerful white male leaders  – one of them dead and the other in his 70s just outdated pie in the sky? It is certainly a tall order! But these two leaders ‘from the past’ are not the only ones concerned about building community. Since 2018 Britain has a Minister for Loneliness, appointed following a report from the Jo Cox commission on loneliness. As recently as last Sunday,  Observer journalist, Kenan Malik wrote about our contemporary society as a place  where: ‘People are ‘seeking relief from the burden of selfhood’. They are ‘yearning for contact and intimacy with others, yet fearful of the pain of engagement’. And that fear may lead to hopeless detachment and isolation – and loneliness. Malik reported a study of middle-aged people, published last week. It showed that the middle-aged in Britain were more likely to experience loneliness than in the other 12 European countries which figured in the research. The findings suggested that as members of the public become more disconnected and alienated, individuals focus on their own narrow concerns and tend toward narcissism. Communal bonds become eroded and society is fractured. Loneliness, so often framed as a personal problem (you need to get out more, join a club, society...etc.) seems to be a social and political problem as much as it may be a personal one. Would we admit to experiencing loneliness ourselves? Now and again! For much of our lives we were fortunate enough to live and work an international educational institution now much reduced. Many of the good friends we made are scattered around the globe. Some we meet virtually but they are no longer part of our face-to-face community. Fewer chats over a cup of coffee. Sometimes we miss the sort of live connections which breed hope. At Easter, Christians commemorate and celebrate the source of their hope in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. The gospels describe him as both solitary and social at different times.  His life illustrates, to use Malik’s words, the ultimate ‘ pain of engagement’ with men and women of all kinds. His crucifixion after thirty-three years of life was the result of misunderstanding, hatred, and betrayal – and narrow-mindedness of all kinds. The story of Easter is that, in the end, the pleasures and pains of wide engagement bring not only community, but life and meaning to individuals and groups. Communities sustain us. Shared life, hope and meaning is the only way to sustain community not just for Christians but for all people of good will. A lonely planet is a dangerous planet. *https://rabbisacks.org/annual-memorial-lecture-2024/

Yesterday was the first day of Spring. But more joyful for our family, it was the 21st March – World Down Syndrome Day. And that falls two days before an even more joyful event - the birthday of a very special member of our family! To celebrate we are going to do something on our blog that we have never done before – share some music....It’s at the end! Readers of our blog two years ago just might remember our anxiety around the birth of our fourth grandchild who has Down syndrome. At birth, Dominic had multiple health problems which gave us all anxious days and sleepless nights. But it slowly became clear to us that he was a little survivor! With brave, tireless, relentless and thoughtful support from our son and daughter-in-law, Dominic weathered a kidney operation in the first week of his life, a heart operation about four months later and has endured further multiple medical interventions since then. These days he’s up and out and about! He’s still connected to oxygen 24/7 but mainly as a means to protect his growing lungs against infection during the winter. He is beginning to say words, he reaches out and calls to us on Facetime chats. Our son even alleges he ‘says’ a particular sound when he sees us. We would love to believe that! But whether or not it’s the case, a phone call with Dominic where we can sing, wave, make signs and talk gibberish together can make our day! Even through the phone screen, Dominic has the ability to connect, communicate and transmit so much love and joy! This weekend we will celebrate his continued thriving as his 2nd birthday arrives. 21st March was chosen for World Down Syndrome day because people with Down syndrome have three copies of the 21st chromosome. Socks were chosen they say, because Downs chromosomes have a karyotype similar to mismatched socks. We don’t really know what a karyotype is! Long before Dominic was born we believed in the importance of remembering that we don’t all need to be the same! The biggest irony of all this is that when we see Dominic, we rarely think about the ‘different’ label because he is just so much of a person in his own right. When our other three grandchildren were born, we didn’t expect them to be all the same – and they certainly aren’t. Dominic has followed suit. We like what one of the posters says, ‘Love doesn’t count chromosomes’. And it’s true! As his mum reminds us in a celebratory Facebook post with a picture of Dominic: ....’You overflow with humanity. I hope for a humanity that sees and values you and your gentle ways.’ One of the best expressions of how the families of children with Down syndrome feel about them is the song written by Chris Read, a comedian and father of Theo. It was played in April 2023 on a Thought for the Day on Radio 4 by Chris’s comedy partner, Harry Baker. As far as we’re concerned – Chris says it all! Every atom of you is perfect....'

Idealism has to operate in lives which are far from straightforward. Lives which do not follow the script. This week we have had contact with three different idealists whose lives have taken different forms – some predictable, some less so. For fifteen years, (1982-1997) Owen, as everyone called him, was the Rector in the village of Binfield where we lived for a few years and worked for many more. We have also worshipped in that village throughout our lives but only very rarely in what was Owen’s church. That did not stop him taking a personal interest in us and our teenage children - and everyone else he met. Full of ecumenical faith, one time he invited Helen to lead a meditation service in his church – people from both congregations attended. Owen was there to circulate and greet us all, his conversations spiced with a wry and sometimes naughty sense of humour!  He was not one to labour theological questions but he didn't avoid them either. Owen left the village to retire in Cornwall in the late 1990s and died just before Christmas 2023. Last Saturday afternoon we went to one of ‘his’ parish churches for a service of memorial, and expected a small and elderly turn out. We could not have been more mistaken! There must have been over two hundred people there. The five speakers remembering him talked about his always amusing and down to earth ministry to children(now grown with children of their own!) in the local Anglican school, his generosity with his time and his availability to his parishioners in a crisis – he once interrupted an Evensong he was conducting to minister to a parishioner whose father had died suddenly. People came in their numbers to remember him quite simply because his attention and his laughter, some said, had kept them ‘in the faith’.  He would talk with conviction about faith but gently and always with laughter. Yesterday we had a visit from another old friend who has lived a life of service and is just coming to the end of a long career at high levels in development work. His most recent assignment was in Jordan where he has been involved in aid issues arising from the current conflict in Gaza. He has travelled extensively, often working in many of the hell-holes in the world and living in cramped quarters sometimes on limited or repetitive diets. He has been up close to man’s inhumanity to man in its many forms. He often knows what is going on behind the western media headlines.  His conversation is peppered with stories and full of fascinating insights. Yesterday he told us how dispirited so many of the workers in Gaza are at the apparently hopeless nature of the conflict there. We asked him about the state of the ideals with which he began his career. ‘Do you ever ask yourself what on earth you are doing in these situations?’ He told us that he and his colleagues often discuss exactly that. ‘The answer we usually come up with,’ he said, ‘is that we are just hopeless idealists!’ A third encounter this week put us in touch with someone we’d never met before. It was a conversation about faith and what he calls, ‘the hard questions’: God and human freedom, the twists and turns of religious faith. Asking hard questions is an activity often discouraged by those religious people for whom faith is an expression of ideas which protect rather than challenge. Our new friend is not one of them! He quoted the Spanish-American thinker George Santayana: “Scepticism is the chastity of the intellect, and it is shameful to surrender it too soon or to the first comer:” Questioning the idealism of your community can bring a certain purity. We’re thankful for these variously idealistic companions on our journey whose words and lives both exemplify and question the demands of faith.

Let’s give our headline a makeover. On this International Women’s Day this seems like a good thing to do. So let me speak in praise of an ordinary woman. She was a philosophy lecturer of mine, a Latvian woman, who believed in my academic potential when I was an undergraduate even when I did not. My studies lacked direction and purpose. She opened up to me the world of philosophy in a very engaging way. In retrospect her influence was pivotal. I will speak in praise of Dr Kate Nahapiet who effectively changed the trajectory of my whole life by giving me time, attention and direction. I owe her a great deal. The campaign theme for this year’s Women’s Day is ‘#InspireInclusion’ while the UN has chosen ‘Invest in women: accelerate progress’. The UN no doubt has in mind substantial projects which will improve girls’ and women’s access to education and training, act against discrimination and abuse in the workplace, and so on. But what about the local situation? Yesterday evening our neighbour popped in to collect a parcel left with us during the working day. A senior finance man in his company, he has just returned from meetings in Australia. He will soon be off on business to Florida. (Somebody’s got to do it, he might say!) Meanwhile his wife combines her own full-time work as a lawyer with the care of their two sons under 10. They are excellent neighbours who seem to manage to juggle their double professional life pretty well but his regular global travel must inevitably bring its strains, and the principal responsibility for keeping the show on the road during his absences often falls on her, her mother and the other women in the family. They are typical of millions of families in this country in which the wife / partner / mother is the glue which keeps the family together: nurturer and carer for young and old. All too often In many parts of the world beyond the West, it is the women who not only keep the family together but are small entrepreneurs and principal wage-earners too. Aid organisations know that the role and condition of women is key to a society’s thriving: when women suffer in times of civil strife, the national economy soon follows. On Wednesday, our daughter, Emma took Helen to LettersLive - an event at the Royal Albert Hall for International Women's Day. It was organised by the publishers Canongate with Benedict Cumberbatch and other world-class actors and celebrities volunteering their time to read funny, dramatic and poignant letters. The show ’inspired inclusion’ by giving all the money raised to the Women's Prize Trust, which aims to change society by improving access to women's writing. What can the rest of us do to ‘invest in women to accelerate progress’? How can we ‘inspire inclusion’? It is perhaps the men among our readers who particularly need to take note at this point. Regrettably few of us have the charisma of Benedict Cumberbatch! But we do find ourselves in social situations in which various subtle forms of male supremacism still surface, often in verbal form. Often jokey. Various gender stereotypes slip into conversation. Even the most ‘enlightened’ of us are guilty sometimes. We can challenge that when it surfaces. We can be more careful too about our spoken and unspoken gender expectations. We will not show resistance when women occupy positions of leadership. And there’s also perhaps the division of labour in our own homes. Expressions of gratitude rather than taking things for granted. This is all small stuff. And maybe, knowing many of our readers, I am ‘preaching to the choir’. But women have been excluded for so many centuries. These messages have to be repeated many times, and in many places, before they become commonplaces. And more than that, ‘inspire inclusion’ suggests something rather creative. That requires a little imagination and effort. So often where there is recognition for and inclusion of women, we men benefit more than we expect. So let us take a moment to praise those ‘ordinary’ women in our lives. Many of them are in fact extraordinary.

I had only a vague idea that there was a tenuous connection between my family and the Kelloggs of the cornflakes package. But since I got into genealogy, I’ve discovered just how much there is. No blood connections but definite influence. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that my paternal grandfather visited the Caterham Sanitarium about 1901. The neologism ‘sanitarium’ intrigued me.  And I became fascinated not only by the man who coined the word - but also by the long fraternal rivalry behind the cornflakes package! It’s recounted in a page turner by Howard Markel that I’ve just gobbled up like a dish of cornflakes: The Kelloggs - the Battling Brothers of Battle Creek. Dr John Harvey Kellogg,(above right)  claimed that he coined the word ‘sanitarium’ in 1877, one year after he took over the leadership of the ‘Health Reform Institute’ which became the Battle Creek Sanitarium on which Caterham was modelled. With typical chutzpah, Kellogg claimed that by changing two letters, he had modified the more familiar word, ‘sanatorium’ – a health resort for invalid soldiers’ into ‘sanitarium’. His sanitarium, he claimed would be ‘a place where people would cultivate health in every possible way by every means afforded by medical science and by modern hygiene’. But Kellogg, always the idealist, wanted more. He wanted his sanitarium ‘to combine with the institutional advantages of the modern hospital, the luxuries and comforts of the modern hotel and the genial atmosphere, security and freedom of the home’. It was an extremely tall order but John Harvey Kellogg dealt in tall orders – in some areas of his life. In the halcyon years when the ‘San’ as it was called,  treated patients with diet, hydrotherapy and exercise in the day and entertained them with performances and lectures from celebrities in the evening, it came somewhere near Kellogg’s ideal. Of course, not all were quite as interested in the ideal diet he promoted - free from meat, tea and coffee, or in the lifestyle free from alcohol which Kellogg promoted relentlessly.  But the idea of combining the luxuries and comforts of the hotel with the benefits of a hospital and the chance to mix with all sorts of distinguished people, proved attractive to patients from all sorts of backgrounds. (Kellogg sometimes overcharged the wealthy so that he could help the poor!) The San was built on Kellogg’s vision and charisma but it was common knowledge that it could not have thrived as long as it did without the business acumen, the concern for the low paid workers and the dogged attention to financial detail of his younger brother, Will Keith Kellogg.(above left) In the day to day running of the San, Will was the neck on which the institution turned. But John always treated him like a jumped up secretary – and paid him like one too. After twenty years, Will could take the treatment no longer and went into business for himself with some of the products the brothers had developed. He developed his own company making brilliant use of the emerging practice of mass advertising – to sell Kellogg’s cornflakes – the product originally developed for patients in the San. The two brothers could never agree about who invented them. The outcome was a series of angry arguments and successive lawsuits. It's a sad but familiar story of idealists and their shadows - especially relevant in radical communities where there is huge focus on developing good things ‘out there’. To admirable people with huge appetites for excellence, of which there have been many in my family and in the religious community in which I have grown up with the health principles of the Kelloggs, the brothers’ lives present a challenge - not to neglect the development of those most difficult of everyday skills: family relationships. The Battle Creek Sanitarium - before the fire of 1902

We, along with most others, were both shocked at the news of the death of Alexei Navalny, the arch opponent of Putin. We had expected to hear of further charges against him, of declining health. But not this. Not now. It will take time for the whole story to emerge but there seems little doubt that it was a state-authorised murder not ‘natural causes’ as Kremlin sources would have us believe. Navalny simply disappeared slowly into the legal-penal labyrinth. It sounds very much like Kafka. We should not think that this labyrinth is simply a Russian problem. Two cases going through the UK courts here are very different from this, to be sure. But again the labyrinth of officialdom looms. News today that the rejection of the appeal by Shamima Begum against the decision to strip her of her UK citizenship meaning that she will have to remain in Syria where there are threats to her well-being. We also have seen this week the continuing process of Julian Assange’s appeal against extradition to the United States where he would very probably face a lengthy prison sentence. The charge against both is that they are in different ways threats to national security. Both processes have dragged on for years. Human beings caught in huge punishing bureaucratic labyrinths, whatever the right and wrongs of the particular situation. All these cases involve at some level a conflict between the security and well-being of the majority over against the freedom of the individual. ‘The greatest amount of happiness for the greatest number of people’ has always been a major political issue. Of course that means that difficult minorities may suffer if they get in the way of majority or at least of powerful interests even if they are innocent. As Navalny did. All of this is immeasurably beyond my pay grade. However we can learn something small from these huge stories. We all find ourselves drawn into various labyrinths. We will all have felt great frustration at some time when we have reached a dead-end on some helpline which we have found most unhelpful. Getting an appointment with a medic at the local NHS facility can be a problem for most of us at some time. ‘For all other customer enquiries press #4…’. Or ‘this is not our problem, you need to contact the supplier…’ The problem is one of access. Of being blocked. The labyrinth is a concept of ancient origin. And it has endured because being blocked, being thwarted in our plans, is an experience which is as old as the hills. There has been a renewed interest in the idea of labyrinths in recent years. Some cathedrals have them as permanent features in their floors, like Gloucester and the oldest and most famous one in Chartres. And you may well find them painted on the ground in children’s playgrounds. They have lasting appeal because they symbolise the basic human desire and need to find a way out of bewildering situations, and the frustration of not finding it. Navalny paid with his life stuck in an Arctic Siberian penal labyrinth because of his immense courage. But it is widely reported that he was also sustained by an irrepressible humour and hope that his country could be a happier place. He dreamed of a ‘happy Russia’. It remains to be seen if Navalny’s sacrifice will contribute to the realisation of his dream. But his courage and hopefulness are a lesson to us all.

Dry January or Veganuary are commonplace matters of conversation these days. Few people are reluctant to tell you about their diet or health regime.  Drinking more water, eating less sugar and fat, making kale or celery your new best friend, walking ten thousand steps a day, etc, etc. All sorts of surprising people are paying vast sums to one of the many gurus on and offline to guide them in how to care for their guts and other crucial parts of their anatomy. Nobody bats an eyelid when tennis legend Novak Djokovic commits himself to eating food that ‘doesn’t take too much energy to digest’, dairy and gluten-free etc. etc. Detox is a familiar concept as are the numbers of adherents willing to tell you how much good it’s done them! More athletic everyday types are willing to do all this to raise money for good causes. The stringent training exercise and diet that goes with preparation for marathon running or participation in sport is commonplace for people who want to raise money for the charity of their choice – and much admired. And then there’s meditation or mindfulness – also a growing business, so popular that it’s being taught – again by gurus – to stressed business people and also in some primary schools. Taking time to sit quietly and seek inner silence is increasingly popular and ‘cool’ as an antidote to the strains and stresses of modern work and family life. The centuries old value of seeking for spiritual peace through meditation and yoga has been discovered and repackaged in the 21st century. So – the  basic elements of the Christian season of Lent – which started this week - are already with us in so many different guises. When the act of ‘giving up something’ is commonplace, what’s so different about ‘giving something up’ so that so that you can reflect on your life. In other contexts it seems to make sense to people to give up something or take up a particular practice as a means to gaining a clear mind. Why not do it while you reflect on your life  in the light of the Big Questions: ‘Who am I? ‘Why am I here? Where am I going? What matters? So we ask ourselves, why is Lent less attractive as an idea? Probably, we think, because in history the day before Lent was always marked by feasting and ‘carnival’ as people said ‘carne vale’ (goodbye to meat!) and goodbye to enjoying themselves. Even worse, Lent has been associated with a heavy idea of a finger-pointing God who stands waiting to accuse and judge us where we have fallen short – again! This year, St Valentine’s Day fell on the first day of Lent. We were reminded that Lent is not a time for self-accusation but a time to rediscover Love as the most powerful energy in the universe – the sort of ‘quick-eyed love’ the poet George Herbert wrote about which ‘bade me welcome when my soul drew back’. Far from depriving Love’s guests, Love offers a banquet of its own making, ‘You must sit down and taste my meat,’ Love says. Paradoxically, as athletes and detoxers of all kinds can witness, giving up, letting go, of whatever kind, can bring its own brand of feasting! Photo:BBC Food