Tidings of Blunkett and Boy

You'll probably need to register to read the full story from the link to The Guardian above, which you'll be brought to if you roll over the title of this post-though you won't be taxed or asked for evidence of identity before you can do so! Unlike Joseph, as around this time nativity plays and carol services re-tell the familiar story of a humble carpenter making the journey to the obscure backwater that was Bethlehem circa 4 B.C, because a decree by the civil power determined he had to return to the town of his birth for a government census.
Joseph knew his lady was with child, which ordinary folk would take to be his, even though he and Mary were not then married. There would be scandal, rumour, public humiliation and even perhaps the loss of his livelihood: all the consequences of not following the proper conventions of public life of his time if word got out of his doings. Joseph when he heard of Mary's pregnancy was even minded to "do the honourable thing" and divorce her quietly- betrothal was tantamount to a "pre-marriage" agreement.

It all rings strangely familiar bells as the Right Honourable Member for Sheffield Brightside now returns to the relative obscurity of the Commons back benches after three years holding one of the highest offices in the land, and rarely being out of the limelight. The 10.00 news on Radio 4 this morning described David Blunkett's departure last night as "dramatic", but this smacks to me a bit of tabloidese as during the last few days it had surely become inevitable. Everyone could see it coming, it was just a matter of timing.

I said in my earlier posting that I did not have much time for David Blunkett the politician, and certainly in his role as Home Secretary he has been one of the most reviled holders of that important office in many a decade. But blind eyes are surely shedding many a genuine tear right now, and mine were too, as the human story of sacrifice and love behind his resignation became poignantly obvious. Blunkett said that it was not the loss of office that saddens him- he is dispensible-but the possibility that he could never hold a little two-year old boy in his arms and play a part in the upbringing of his youngest son- and another child, possibly his, yet to be born to Kimberly Quinn, the other adult party at the centre of the Blunkett saga. As publisher of The Spectator, she is more than a mere onlooker, she has become the lady in the redtops of this story, although most of the tabloids have shown rare restraint towards her as stress threatens her latest pregnancy.

HE HAD TO GO
Even the quality press- since the Independent and Times went "compact" the broadsheet adjective no longer serves alone- were agreed that David Blunkett had become a liability. As far as I know, he holds no great religious beliefs but has held Socialism close to his bosom ever since his star first rose in the North amid the men of steel. But Blunkett like all human leaders has feet of clay, ultimately. My Bible readings these past couple of days have looked at the story of King Nebuchadnezzar, one time ruler of all the Babylonian empire. He had the whole ancient world fawning at his feet, but in a moment he was gone. Only Daniel, faithful Jew through all the trials of his time, dared to tell him the truth. He dreamt of a giant statue, made of all the materials which represented wealth and power at that time-but with feet made of a mixture of iron and fragile clay.
I couldn't help but think while reading this of Saddam Hussein, finally discovered in his bolt hole a year ago this week- can it really be that long already? The media-friendly symbol of the deposition of this dictator was, of course, the huge statue of him outside Baghdad, toppled in the path of the advancing US Army eighteen months ago. But peace has not returned to that land, let alone to the Earth, through any efforts of arms and the man since that time. Iraq this Christmas faces an uncertain future, even if the elections scheduled for January go ahead without trouble, which seems a vain hope. Christians in Iraq in particular still face persecution, hardship, misunderstanding and at worst martyrdom- apparently there have been more Christian martyrs this last century throughout the world than at any time in history.

Martyrs and the persecuted were much in my prayers today- and featured in Radio 4's Daily Service- as indeed were all who hold "authority" on Planet Earth, AD 2004. This included our British sovereign: as I looked into the background to the Blunkett story, I recalled that even the "rock" of the crown I referred to on Saturday, was shaken just before Christmas sixty-eight years ago with the Abdication of Edward the Eighth for the woman he loved on 10th December, 1936. The high offices of state can be hewn in the solidity of history, but the human heart is bound together only by the glue of love, without which all else topples.

AND THE GOVERNMENT SHALL BE UPON HIS SHOULDERS
In other words, no man or woman alone can be relied upon to lead us or guide our future actions-but a little child can! This is the wonderful paradox of the gospel stories.

The schedule of modern life means that the events of the Christmas story are often presented out of their temporal context: Holy Innocents' day falls just after Christmas as perhaps a poignant reminder that so-called mature adults are the only defenders of our vulnerable, helpless young. Herod the king, in his raging - to quote the words of the poignant Coventry Carol- slew all the little children in Bethlehem under two whom he saw as a threat to his "rule"- though in reality he had already been trodden under the feet of Roman imperialism anyway. Some might say there are some bells ringing there of similar power structures in today's world, mentioning no names. Perhaps we ought to send them all to Coventry.

Meanwhile, getting back to the hero of our time-jumping story, Joseph was warned in a dream that he had to go. It's funny how God so often uses the only times he can command our full attention, in our sleeping- to tell us things which are really for our own good. Joseph took his wife Mary and their infant child Jesus away into exile, to Egypt. There they were shielded from the gaze of the sudden unwelcome, mis-reported and misinterpreted publicity that befell them after those remarkable events in Bethlehem occupied all onlookers for so long.
These events too you will find reported differently depending on whose account you read, but believers know there is the vital kernel of truth at their heart, like a Christmas nut waiting to be opened before consumption. The birth of this special boy, long foreseen by the sages and wiseacres of the age much as David Blunkett's downfall has been this autumn, was destined according to scripture to bring the rising and falling of many nations. Yet at the same time and with the paradox which is divine love, He would bring salvation where meek souls would receive him still.

Perhaps now the sorry Blunkett saga is over, we can in these last nine days before Christmas turn our hearts and minds to what really matters in this season of goodwill. Instead of a wounded councillor, as Blunkett now appears, remember the "Wonderful Counsellor, Almighty God, the Everlasting Father- and Prince of Peace" Maybe Isaiah was the Andrew Marr of his day, presciently predicting with divinely inspired prophecy where the reins of power would be held not just in the next six months but for the rest of history. Couple the wise words of centuries-old books with the God-soaked music of George Frederick Handel, one time German immigrant, gifted stranger and herald of harmony, and you start to discover what The Messiah and true compassionate government is all about.