About this blog and the blogger

HI, I'm Mark and I'm a Middle-Aged, Middlesaxon male. I'm proud of my origins here in the South East of England, and am a historian by academic training and inclination, as well as a specialist in Christian writing and pastoral work. 'Anyway' is where you'll find my occasional thoughts on a wide variety of topics. Please dip into my large archive. I hope you enjoy reading, and please make use of the comments facility. Radio FarFar is really a dormant blog at present, but I may from time to time add thoughts my other main passions, audio broadcasting. You can also join the debate, keep up to date with my activities and learn more about me in my Facebook profile- see link on this page. I'm very much a friendly, WYSIWYG type, if you've not visited this blog before, do introduce yourself -I'd love to get to know you. Carry on reading, and God Bless

Thursday 9 April 2009

Crown Caught

It's not been a good week for the law, or at least the law enforcers. Today, Britain's top anti-terrorist branch policeman, Bob Quick, lived up to his name as he was forced to hastily resign from the Metropolitan Police Service, following the sort of momentary mistake anybody could make, but which was likely to lead to devastating consequences. It seemed highly appropriate on a day remembered in history for the most disastrous of 'mistakes' of all, yet which changed the world.

Quick was photographed as he arrived for a routine Downing Street briefing. No problem in that, except that a document marked "Secret" relating to "Operation Pathway" was clearly legible under his arm, rather than concealed safely away as it obviously should have been. The much-respected senior Met man took the only honourable course of action in resigning his post for his mistake, but as he did so, thirty years plus of invaluable experience was surrendered along with his warrant card. It seems such a tragedy, for such a momentary error.

On the same day, meanwhile, an un-named officer of the same constabulary was suspended from duty after video footage obtained by The Guardian seemed to show police had baton-charged a 47-year old newspaper seller, Ian Tomlinson, who later died of a heart attack after being caught up in the demonstrations last week as the G20 summit of the world's most powerful leaders met in London.

Justice is said to be blind- hence the blindfold and the scales carried by the statue of "Justice" which is located just metres from where this fatal event took place last week. The famous statue sits atop the Central Criminal Court,more commonly known as The Old Bailey, in the City of London itself. Here, Her Majesty's Courts Service supposedly ensures that justice is seen to be done. Many may come here to be prosecuted- too many- but it should be that only the guilty are convicted of a crime and punished.

The right of an English free man to be tried by a jury of his peers is regarded as a sacred principle dating back over 800 years, respected and copied by legal systems all over the world. Trial by jury, based on the evidence alone and the impartial decisions of twelve men and true (and women!) is one of our most treasured liberties.

Criminal trials in England are conducted in the name of the sovereign, often abbreviated to R for Regina. In theory, at least, anybody who believes there has been a miscarriage of justice can take it right up to the sovereign when all other avenues of justice have been exhausted. "R" was once considered God's representative, and thus liable to show neither fear nor favour- even though the lessons of history and many 'bad kings' prove otherwise. In practice though, the Law Lords or soon the "Supreme Court of the United Kingdom", a controversial new arm of the judicial system, are the highest court in England (we'll ignore for the moment the newer influence of the European Court- it only seeks to complicate matters further!)

How very different from the kangaroo court proceedings which 'convicted' the King of the Jews, many would say the Universe, on this night about 1976 years ago. It's Maundy Thursday, taken from the latin "Mandatum", meaning "commandment" and referring to the new commandment which Jesus Christ gave to his followers at what has come to be called the "Last Supper": 'to love one another, as I have loved you'. This moving and momentous event, the basis of the Holy Communion service which is a sacred part of many Christian tradition's worship, happened before he was hastily arrested following betrayal to the authorities by one of his own. But where was the evidence, where were the impartial jurors? Above all, what was the charge?

The nearest ancient Palestine under Roman law- ironically the basis of much modern English law- got to a supreme,impartial judge was Pontius Pilate, the pro-consul. At the dead of night, he conducted what amounted to trial rigged by the occupied people he feared might riot, and the defendant had absolutely no chance of a fair hearing or acquital, even when he spoke in his own defence. It would have made little difference if he did call on evidence though- all his witnesses, even his best friend, abandoned him at his darkest hour to protect their own interests. What kind of justice is this? If it happened today, surely there would be an outcry.

Or would there?

How quick are we still to jump to our own conclusions about people and situations, irrespective of the evidence. The evidence in this case should have had this man not thrown into a dungeon, but mounting a throne. Instead of which, the next day he was nailed to a wooden cross on a high mound used as a rubbish dump outside the city walls, known as Calvary. He was left clothed not in the garments of royalty, but with nothing more than a mock crown of thorns and a notice above his head "I N R I"- latin initials for "Iesvs Nazarenvs Rex Ivdaeorvm" - This is Jesus, King of the Jews.

There, in agony, the death penalty was not despatched swiftly. Little mercy was shown. Instead, in the mid-day heat, he bled and suffocated slowly, as was the Roman customary capital punishment, but he was innocent of any crime!

Why was there no outcry?

There was. It came from the victim himself. He cried for us :"Father forgive them, for they know not what they do". What kind of person can show that kind of selfless thought for others in the extremes of their own agony in extremis.

Jesus Christ, the King of the Jews and the saviour of the world could.

Nothing can really ever save this world now from the agony of its own depravity, debauchery, defunct debentures and dereliction of duty, than this man who Christians believe was God in the form of man, who gave so much, for so many, so long ago. It is we who should be in the dock, up before the supreme 'beak', or rather being. We should be enduring concurrent death sentences.

But there's no need for a trial for us. The verdict has been passed: 'guilty as sin' on all humanity. The Bible says as much: "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God". It needed no foreman to announce this, no charge sheet to sustain the accusation, and no human advocates, however talented, could get us off on a technicality. Yet the unbelievable result of Jesus's death was 'all charges dropped, you're free to go, and live your new life to the full, for ever".

What amazing justice is this?

Divine.

In the Easter school holidays back in the seventies, when afternoon TV in Britain was still in its infancy, I used to love a Granada TV show called "Crown Court". Running usually over three days in half hour lunchtime slots, this was the closest British television could get at the time to portraying the proceedings of a real court while cameras were banned from actual court cases (with few exceptions, they still are). Although the dramatis personae of each new 'case' were real actors, the jury were ordinary members of the Great British Public. It was their verdict which determined the outcome of each case, not the writer's.

Just as enjoyable for many as the cases though, were the closing credits of each case. The music used was called "Distant Hills". This Maundy Thursday night, moving into Good Friday, I prefer to think of another distant hill, in fact nearly a thousand miles from where I sit, in Jerusalem. In that 'City of Peace' agony, war, bitterness and hatred still condemn many to premature death. If only they too could be saved by Jesus, as beautifully portrayed in Mrs Cecil Frances Alexander's hymn which was one of my schoolboy favourites:

"There is a Green Hill Far Away
Outside A City Wall
Where the dear Lord was crucified
Who died to save us all"

If you may, and if you can, keep silence to remember that, and the supreme irony that it was Good that it happened, this Good Friday. God Bless.