Early YearsI was borne an only child in 1958 in Stoke-on-Trent, the son of a pottery worker. My early education was at two Church of England schools. My mother was a devout Methodist, my father was of no particular religious persuasion. I attended Methodist Sunday School from a young age. My parents were most concerned that I should do well at school and gave me much encouragement in my studies. I always liked reading, and enjoyed my time at school.
My family life was very happy: my parents rather spoiled
me. I knew that they regretted not being younger, for my sake: I was born
when my Mother was well into her forties. I suppose I was something of
an unexpected afterthought. I was well loved, though whether because of
or in spite of this, I cannot say. We were a very close family, but I was
closer to my mother than my father. Some of my fondest memories being of
the two of us strolling on a Summer's evening, after the Chapel service
which I would occasionally attend with her.
High School YearsI had quite a hostile view of the Anglican Church in my youth. I was very conscious of my Methodist identity even when I was ten or so. I disapproved of primary school friends of mine agreeing to act as altar servers at the weekly School Eucharists that were held in the adjoining anglican Church! When I moved on to High School I began to mix with people who clearly took their Anglicanism seriously, and one friend in particular (David Bickerton) brought me to realize that High Church Anglicanism (the only variety which I had experience of) wasn't so bad after all!
mother died of a stroke when I was about fourteen. It was not unexpected,
as she had had a couple of heart attacks previously. My father had just
got back from the pub and the three of us were sitting down with cups of
tea in front of the ten o'clock TV news. I noticed that my mother was having
difficulties lifting her cup and soon my father and I realised that something
was seriously wrong. We called the doctor out. When he came - after
a long delay - he said that she'd had a minor stroke. He didn't bother
to call an ambulance! Anyhow, her condition got worse and worse. Eventually,
very late at night, I went to my room to try and get some sleep, while
my father kept watch over my mother who was slowly dying before our eyes.
When I got to bed, I lay awake and prayed: "If I'm worth anything to you
at all, God: please don't let Mum die!"
immediately, I had a sense that a voice had spoken to me inside my head,
or as if a thought had been inserted in my consciousness. This was "Whatever
happens, Stephen, I will always be with you."That was all. It did
not answer my prayer in the terms that I had wanted, but it stood out from
my general flow of consciouness like a sore thumb. I have never experienced
anything positive like this ever again. Somehow, I don't need to. The promise
was so absolute and uncompromising that it has always been enough for me
to fall back on in all my later troubles.
Later that night my mother was taken - much too late for
it to be any good at all - into hospital with a massive untreated stroke.
A day or so later, she was dead. Her funeral was an incredible affair.
She was so well respected and loved in the neighbourhood that the Methodist
Chappel was packed to the doors with friends and neighbours as well as
the normal congregation. I found it surprisingly easy to accept my mum's
death, as I never doubted but that she was in God's good hands. The only
real sorrow I felt, was as a result of my own untimely loss. Although I
had always taken Christianity fairly seriously, it was the jolt of my Mother's
death that elicited a personal response from me.
My mother's death brought my Father and I closer together. It was now more or less the two of us against the world, and we either had to pull together or sink.
At about this time, I came into the possession of a strange little book called "The Testament of Light". This is described by its compiler as "an anthology of the religious spirit". More accurately, I have come to realize, it is an anthology of thinly camouflaged NeoPlatonism. It is from this anthology that many of the quotes distributed through my Web-Site have been abstracted. When I first acquired this book, I did not realize the influence that it would have on me. While it was having that influence, I did not recognize it. I do not agree with all the sentiments expressed in it, and certainly not with the self description it contains "Religion without God". Nevertheless, in the last few years have I realized that many of my attitudes can be traced back to my first reading of this little book. It was my first meeting with Plato, Whichcote, Glanville, Mill, Blake, Chesterton, Julian of Norwich, Marcus Aurelius, Nietzche and The Cloud of Unknowing.
It was about this time that I first came into contact with Catholicism - though of a suspect variety - in the writings of Teillard de Chardin. I read his two books: the Hymn and Prayer of the Universe, and though I found them obscure, I was impressed with their spirituality. I particular the emphasis on the transcendent in his Cosmology and Eucharistic devotion. As a Methodist, I had received no instruction whatsoever as to the nature of "The Lord's Supper": it was something that one simply went through the motions of doing, without comment!
When I moved on to Sixth Form College, I became very interested in the Ecumenical Movement. I persisted in maintaining an involvement with the Evangelical "Christian Society" that existed there, even though the doctrine of the "Substitutionary Atonement" was offensive to my sense of justice. At this time my theological outlook could definitely be characterized as "liberal". I continued to develop my involvement with High Church Anglicanism. The local Anglocatholic parish was on good terms with the Methodist Chapel that I was then attending, and I enjoyed attending Midnight Mass and the annual Corpus Christi service. I also got into the habit of attending their eight o'clock Communion service.
It was about this time that my Father re-married. It was
not a successful venture. I suppose that I resented it to a degree: certainly
my step-mother misled my Father over a number of matters and begrudged
any sign of affection that he bestowed on me. These were very unhappy years
for me at home.
Cambridge UniversityI was fortunate to be accepted to read Physics at Trinity College Cambridge in 1976. Apart from academic matters, my first year was spent getting to know some of the people who would remain my friends for the next quarter of a century and "getting over" my first unrequited (and not then properly recognized) love affair, with my then best friend, Adrian Shingler. The picture below shows Adrian (looking typically embarrassed!) with his mother and their pet poodle.
early days, I knew and benefited from the perspective of evangelical christians.
While at Trinity, I played a full part in the College "Christian Union"
and also CICCU: the "Cambridge Intercollegiate Christian Union". I still
remember my friends David Nussbaum and Anthony Jacombe-Hood with particular
affection. However, it became increasingly obvious to me that the core
of their belief system (Lutheranism and/or
was misguided. In effect, with the best possible of intentions I
am sure, it made God into a vindictive and arbitrary tyrant. I had been
convinced that God was in fact loving, kind, compassionate, just and reasonable
from my earliest memories, so I was entirely unable to empathize with this
point of view. Click here for a dialogue on the basis
of Christian belief between myself and an ex-evangellical friend, Simon
It was at Cambridge that I met my best friend, John (grinning, with a beard); who has been a main-stay of my life ever since.
My main involvement with other Christians while at Cambridge was via the Methodist inspired "Ecumenical Fellowship Group" movement. I took part in three E.F.G. based missions, to Winterbourne (near Bristol), Warrington (near Liverpool) and Theydon Bois (near London). I was further exposed to Anglo Catholicism in the person of the esoteric Allison Legge, who I briefly encountered. It was at Cambridge that I first encountered the beautiful Russian Orthodox liturgy. I also met the controversial Dr John A.T. Robinson, who was Dean of Trinity College Chapel and heard him preach on a number of occasions. He always struck me as a good and kind man, and pretty sensible in his views, if only one paid attention to what he actually said rather than what others represented him as saying.
I discovered J.H. Cardinal Newman, and the Apostolic Fathers (Ignatious of Antioch, Clement of Rome) and then the Fathers of the Fourth Century, Athanasius, John Chrysostom, Leo, Cyril and Basil, and was received into the Catholic Church by the Chaplain at Cambridge University: Maurice Couve de Murville, who later became Archbishop of Birmingham. I got somewhat involved with the "charismatic movement" through Nick Lloyd. The picture on the right shows me (the one without the beard) with three Catholic friends at the Trinity College May Ball. My first encounter with the Tridentine Mass took place at Cambridge, when Mgr Gilbey (a previous chaplain) celebrated it in the Chaplaincy Day Chapel.
From my first days as a Catholic , I have always adopted a more "traditional " theology , liturgy and ecclesiology than is currently fashionable. It has always been centrally important to me, as a Christian who is also a Scientist , to focus on what is TRUE, rather than approved or popular or convenient. As Jesus said: "For this I came into the world, to bear witness to the truth."
On returning from a holiday in Rome, where I'd gone with
some University friends, I found that my father had died and that my "mad
Aunt Nancy" (my Father's sister) had set light to the front bedroom of
my home! I coped, as always. My step mother did not attend the funeral:
she had just filed divorce papers!
The Hirst Research CentreFor about ten years I worked in the electronics industry, working in Wembley North-West London at the G.E.C. "Hirst Research Centre", at first on "Charge Coupled Devices" and then "Semiconductor Device Physics". During this period I served on the national committee of the Latin Mass Society. I also considered the Apostolic Ministry, both as an Oratorian and a secular priest, but was rejected as "unsuitable". The late Cardinal Hulme told me that I had a personality such that no-one would be able to "live with" or "get on" with me. The absurdity of this judgement is revealed by the facts that I had been sharing a flat with one friend, Peter Polkinghorne (an Anglican), for about four years at that time and have now been living with a partner (a Catholic) for over ten years. What the Cardinal meant was that I wasn't sufficiently malleable of thought for his purposes.
A few years later Aunt Nancy died, and I was left without any family to speak of except for my Mother's elder sister, my Aunt May, of whom I was very fond. She had in effect, become my mother substitute and had provided a very necessary refuge from a home that was often little better than a war zone. The next picture shows me with my Aunt, at the door to her home in Fenton.
I founded and played a leading part in running an inter-denominational Christian Fellowship, "H.C.F." at my place of work and made many friends there. It was a wonderful experience to be able to discuss the varied view-points of those who came along, to share our mutual faith in Jesus and to cooperate in witnessing to the Gospel in the place where we worked.
Click on one of the following links to view articles based on talks that I gave to H.C.F.
For a time, I was somewhat involved with Opus Dei, a secretive Catholic organization much in favour at the Vatican. I found one or two of their priests very impressive in terms of their wisdom, orthodoxy, piety and sensitivity. I went on pilgrimage to Rome with Opus Dei twice (via a "front organization" UNIV). On the second occasion I suppose that I almost lost my faith. This is because I heard one of the Opus Dei priests almost gleefully proclaiming at length to a little group of fans that those folk who haven't had the chance to hear the gospel can't possibly "be saved". When I challenged him that the Church teaches that everyone receives sufficient grace from God to be saved, he replied along the lines that it all depends what you mean by "sufficient". I was scandalized and suffered a three day depression, wandering about Rome by myself in abject misery. It seemed to me that I was a better, kinder person than the "god" that this priest, whom I respected, believed in. If he'd been just any old Catholic priest, I'd have dismissed his words as typical nonsense, but because I respected him as a member of an orthodox organization, his words hit at the heart of my image of God as Love. Eventually, I got over this and moreover he apologized for speaking out of turn and ill advisedly; but that was the end of my involvement with Opus Dei.
I've also been involved with the "Faith" movement, a strange group: quite orthodox (but eccentric in their theology); rather obsessed with their founder's ill conceived attempt at reconciling Catholic Theology with Science; and fixated on a narrow minded application of the Church's official teaching on sexual morality. As someone who generally prefers to stand on the sidelines, rather than conforming too closely to the norms of any group, I eventually drifted away from this group. Its obsessions were not mine, and in any case they were deeply suspicious of the Traditional Liturgy.
It was at this time that I met Paul May (in the white
"Presto" RUSH tee-shirt), Simon Robinson, Daniel
Doll-Steinburg, Joel Crisp and Paul
Miller, through playing "Dungeons
and Dragons". It was at this time that my alter ego Pharsea was first
conceived: as a Lawful Good
Cleric to compliment Paul Miller's Chaotic
Bristol UniversityThen my Aunt May died, and I was made redundant. I moved to live in Leigh-on-Sea, Southend so that I could work in Basildon with STC, as it then was. After a year or so, I got fed up with the job and decided to return to academic studies for a while. I resigned, and with the encouragement of Paul May, went to Bristol University, where I did a Ph.D. in relativistic quantum mechanics and computational condensed matter physics. I thought this would make me unemployable, but in fact it helped me to get my next job!
During my first two years at Bristol, I supervised a student
residence: 121 Redland Rd. which is featured in my next picture.
Out of the ClosetWhen I was being instructed at Cambridge by Fr Maurice Coeve de Murville, I remember blithely agreeing with him in passing that homosexuality was some kind of unfortunate malaise. At the time, I had a protestant girl-friend (who I'd got to know during the E.F.G. mission to Warrington, near Liverpool) and was somewhat in love with her. Over the years it became more and more forcefully apparent to me, that I was myself "not exactly heterosexual" and that I had been pressured by society into playing out an external role or "script" that had no truth in it, but was a lie about myself. Still, as a traditionally minded Catholic, I soldiered on; somehow finding it possible to maintain a conviction that the Church's official teachings on love, marriage, procreation and sexuality were coherent. For years I was a vociferous advocate of these matters in my social circle of mostly protestant or non-believing friends.
Eventually, this position became utterly impossible to support. This was because I fell deeply in love with a young man, Paul J Hammond, see next picture: he's wearing a red tee-shirt. I met PJH while working, as a mature student, for my Ph.D. in theoretical solid-state physics at Bristol University in 1990. We had met as Committee members of the newly formed Heavy Metal and Rock Music Student Society, and I had been privileged to have a role in drawing him towards a faith in Jesus and His Church. He wrote to me a tearful letter so full respect for my poor self (after I'd given him an stern "ticking off" about a very minor lapse of personal integrity), that my heart was quite overcome.
For another six months I successfully fought against telling him of my feelings, comforting myself that "Jesus must become greater for him, and I must become less". In the end, I found that I simply could not continue the pretence with any personal integrity, and I told him. He was very good about the matter, and though he told me that he had no romantic or sexual feelings toward me he was more than willing to remain close friends and to continue learning about God and Jesus. The next few years were very difficult for me. I was "held together" by a number of friends. In particular, John Sackett and Paul Miller (see next picture, he's wearing red shorts and grappling with a punt pole.)
One thing that helped me through my own "coming to terms" with the truth
about myself and the Church's attitude to gay and lesbian people was the
fact that I had already experienced condemnation and rejection by the hierarchy
by virtue of my commitment to unfashionable traditional
theology and forms of worship. Thank God, the first things that I found
myself condemned for were things that I chose to believe and adopt, for
reasons that I could easily defend intellectually, and for which there
was an enormous weight of evidence on my side! The issue
of sexuality is so much more difficult, because it calls into question
not what one thinks or does, but who
one is. It seems to me that it is difficult to judge which group
Rome detests and condemns the more: homosexuals
or adherents of the Old Latin Mass. As yet, no-one
has been excommunicated for being gay. For my sins,
I am both!
had decided that contemporary church authorities were not generally to
be trusted years before I found myself directly and personally in the firing
line. Even so, for a few days I seriously played with the argument: if
I am intrinsically
evil, and if all that God created is good,
then I must be a child of Satan, so I should worship the devil! Thank God
that some good Christian friends renewed within me the certainty of God's
love for ALL that He made, and that he made ALL things, visible and invisible,
and that ALL that he made is good. I lost many friends at this time, mostly
because they couldn't deal with the emotional anguish that I was going
through. Some because they rejected my homosexuality. Some because they
thought associating with me would be bad for their children. I was helped
a lot during this period by friends made through involvement with the Bristol
branch of the Lesbian and Gay Christian Movement, LGCM.
Then followed about four years of blood, sweat and tears.
Paul Hammond could be a stubborn fellow. Most of my Christian friends,
even Paul Miller, thought I was wasting my time and energies and that he'd
never have the "bottle" to commit himself to Jesus. I never believed this,
though I always recognized his flaws. From our first meetings, I had detected
a core of gentleness and decency in his heart that I believed would, given
the waterings of God's grace,
flower into charity and justice. We both behaved very badly towards each
other in various ways on various occasions. We both forgave each other
our failings. We also had some wonderfully happy times. I think that often
PJH found me quite frightening, because I was able to challenge
his comfortable certainties with the radical wisdom of the Gospel. He once
said that I could argue such that anything I wanted to convince him of
could be made to seem to be right. Of course, this wasn't true!
At the start of this same period, I met and settled down with my long term partner David. The picture shows him in a red polo shirt at the top of the Avon Gorge, near Bristol. The centre of our life together is not sex, but abiding friendship, practical commitment and personal loyalty in times of trouble based on our shared adherence to Catholic Christianity. Our relationship has survived me being made redundant three times, and David's contracting lymphatic cancer. "By their fruits shall ye know them". David and I made a number of wonderful friends while in Bristol, the next two photos shows some of them playing "silly games" at a birthday party I hosted.
Back To EssexWhen I graduated with a Ph.D. from Bristol (I hope you like my wonderful doctoral robes), David and I moved back to Leigh-on-Sea (the next picture shows some Bristol friends visiting us). I managed to get a job with Nortel in Harlow, and David started a long and varied career with what was then Midland Bank: it subsequently became HSBC and is now IPSL. We got quite involved in the local Catholic church. I was on the parish council for a couple of years. The priest was quite a dynamic and theologically orthodox man, and I was keen to help him with some of his plans. Unfortunately, he "went native" after a while and seemed to shelve all his "new" ideas in favour of maintaining the status quo. We (and other folk, including the Chairman of the parish council) were quite disillusioned by this. David and I got involved with the local Essex group of LGCM, and so met George and Carol Hopper. Their simple human kindness, sincere love of God and natural practice of hospitality has helped to rekindle in me some hope for humanity. "Ubi Caritas et Amor: Deus ibi est".
Eventually, after much prayer, cajoling, and some emotional bullying on my part, Paul Hammond eventually got his act together and decided to be received into the Catholic Church in London. A few days before his reception, I visited Paul at his flat in London. We were on very good terms at this time, though that would change within the month. I had brought him a box full of books of spirituality and theology which were surplus to my requirements. I said to him: "Paul, I want you to have these, in case anything happens to me." My meaning was that if at some point in the future he didn't have me to ask questions of or advice from, at least he'd have a few half-trustworthy books to turn to. At that moment, a great shudder passed through my body: as if someone had walked over my grave. I told Paul what I had felt and then our conversation continued; for I had no idea at the time what - if anything - this had meant.
Acting as Paul's sponsor a few day's later, and offering him the physical embrace of spiritual communion with the Catholic Church was one of the high points of my life. I remember his father thanking me for all that I'd done for Paul and expressing the wish that I would continue to guide him.
Sadly, I knew the meaning of the "strange turn" I had experinced shortly afterwards. We had a row over the 'phone, only a day or so after he became a Catholic. For years, I had felt that he had systematically treated me badly, and whereas I had felt it was right to "bear the burden" before he became a Christian, once he had done so I determined that he should be made to realize that "you don't mess people about in that way, and certainly not a Christian brother". I mis-judged this.
I made many attempts to patch up the relationship, but from then until now I have never seen him or spoken with him again. It was unacceptable to me that we should remain at odds. This was for me a matter of serious sin. I was willing to do anything within my power. Paul was as dear to me as the son that I shall never have.
He was my friend.
Paul got involved with various groups of "Conservative Catholics", went to Medugorje, "had a vision there" and came to the conclusion that homosexuality was evil, and that while he might "love the sinner", he must "hate the sin" and so have no association with me, but treat me as a tax collector!
It broke my heart that it was his membership of the Catholic Church (which I had battled the world, the flesh and the devil to achieve) that became the excuse for his repudiation of our friendship. It was only my apostolic commitment, in friendship, towards Paul, that forced me to admit the truth about myself. It was only that non-negotiable commitment that I had towards him, as a result of my love for him that brought him to faith in Jesus. No one else would have persevered with him, or put in the effort. They wouldn't have seen the point! I think that one reason the Good Lord put me in this world was to witness to that young man and win his heart for Heaven.
Without my homosexual orientation, none of this would
have been. Yet the Catholic Church condemns me as intrinsically
disordered, worthy of no civic rights and a danger to the young. I
do not think that Church leaders begin to imagine the pain, desperation
and anger that is evoked in the heart of the gay and lesbian members of
their flocks who look to them for bread and receive only a stone; for fish
and receive a scorpion.
Bristol again, then BasingstokeThen in 1997 I was made redundant again. The next picture shows David and I together at about this time. After a difficult job search, I accepted employment back in Bristol, and David and I moved back to our old haunts and friends there. David easily got a transfer to an HSBC Service Delivery Unit there. Then the next bomb-shell hit, he was diagnosed with advanced lymphatic cancer! Then I was made redundant again! We muddled on. David responded well to the chemotherapy, and didn't have too many side effects. We went on pilgrimage to Lourdes. Paul Hammond wrote to me, claiming to have received the charism of a healing ministry: but refused to come and pray for David to be healed when I begged him to do so. Eventually, I got another job as a research Physicist, and we moved to Basingstoke, Hampshire. David seems to be fully cured, but only time will tell. He worked for a time in Camberley for HSBC and then IPSL. The next picture shows our house in Basingstoke.
started to create this website at the unwilling instigation of PJH, at
about this time. He wrote to me asking how someone as "wise" as me could
"believe" what I do. I immediately started to write the four articles that
form the core of "Faithful to the Truth". I
sent these to both him and one of his new "friends", Peter Hamilton: a
Physics teacher at a Catholic school. I have no reason to believe that
either of these ever read a word of my essays. After promising to do so,
Mr Hamilton in fact said that he "couldn't be arsed"
to do so! Such are the forces of mindless conservatism. It then occurred
to me that other people might be interested in reading what I had written,
so I decided to post the essays to the Web, along with a few other documents.
This brief autobiography itself began life as a letter to Archbishop Nichols
of Birmingham. Pharsea's World started to take shape from then on!
More Recent HistoryCarol Hopper died after protracted treatment for ovarian Cancer in the Summer of 2002. David and I were privileged to attend her funeral in Basildon, Essex.
Paul Miller is now married, and lives in the U.S.A. with his wife Candice. They feature in my next picture. There is a link to his web site on my "links" page. I'm glad to say Paul still owns and wears the red shorts! He recently visited me for an intensive time of conversation and intellectual/spiritual sharing. He is now researching in the field of neuroscience. Candice and Paul now have a daughter, Alexandra.
Paul Hammond started training for the Catholic priesthood in 2000. Unfortunately, this initiative came to nothing. He told me that he wants to be reconciled with me; that he is sorry for having mistreated me; but that he cannot be my friend "at the present time". In 2001 I got a Christmas Card from him for the first time since he became a Catholic. In April 2002, I received a very pleasant email from him explaining that the seminary atmosphere didn't suit him at all and that the experience has had a profound impact on his psychology and spirituality. An email received in April 2003 includes the statement:
"I know it wouldn't work if we were to try to be friends again. For starters, your intensity, your demands for time/communication, and your fixed (and, I believe, misguided) views on and obsession with homosexuality would simply drive me away again. I've enough challenges in my life at the moment... without having the equally large challenges that would come from a friendship with you."In November 2003, he wrote:
"I'll try to reply to your other e-mails, and will try to be more charitable. I may eventually look at your web site, but I need to be careful not to spend a lot of time in doctrinal discussions as it's not good for me spiritually right now. I'm trying to focus more on my personal relationship with Jesus, not on doctrine. I will just say one thing now: yes, I may well have a moral responsibility towards you, but (like many other of your friends, I suspect), upon doing some cost-benefit analysis, it seems very likely to me that in the time it could take (and in the effort it could take) to help you change your mind, I could conceiveably help tens of other people to grow much closer to the Lord. I know it's a cold way of looking at things. I pray that the Lord will reveal the "helping path" He wants me to take in my life."This I took to be a very positive sign, as it indicated a recognition that he had been uncharitable in the past and also that he wished to count himself as one of my friends. Unfortunately, he then decided to discuss the whole matter at length with his spiritual director, who told him to have nothing to do with me. So for the fourth or fifth time PJH then informed me that he would have nothing more to do with me ever again. Needless to say, the credibility of such statements with me is wearing thin!
In 2003, out of the blue, a neighbour contacted me about playing Dungeons and Dragons. She'd read of my interest in something I'd posted on the Web. Subsequently three other locals interested in the same thing materialized, and we got a pretty active group going.
After a traumatic time training to be an FE teacher at my local Sixth Form College, I took up employment as an Electronics lecturer. David is now working (indirectly) for Royal Liver Insurance in Basingstoke.
I resigned from my lecturing job in June 2006 and have just published a book "New Skins for Old Wine" based on parts of this website. I have completed a Fantasy Novel set in the land that I have invented as a backdrop to the Dungeosn and Dragons game that I Dungeon-Master. I am presently looking for a publisher.
In September 2007 PJH got married. In February 2009, after a silence of over five years, PJH write to me again - out of the blue:
"Whilst I of course wish there was no division between us, I sadly still feel it would be a mistake for us to try to resume friendship at this point, especially now that I'm married and my priority must be the building up of my own family "community", which I don't want to put in jeopardy.He had just moved house and the letter was an excuse to advise me of his change of address, so that I could continue to write to him, as I had done occasionally.
I was very happy to receive this letter, as (once more - surprise, surprise!) it gave the lie to what he'd previously written. While this letter is couched in negative terms, my view of it was entirely positively. I have received many such missives from him and know only too well the code in which they are written and how they should be interpretted.
I responded as enthusiastically and positively as I could - while pointing out that he had treated me very badly and must change his attitude and ways before being properly reconciled with me. He didn't take this well, saying that he was only willing to be "mates" not proper friends - and suggesting that I should be happy to pick up from under the table what ever scraps of information he deigned to drop my way. I told him that this was unacceptable. The only way that I wanted anything to do with him was as the friends that we once were; not passing acquaintances - there was nothing to be gained in that. He than wrote that I should stop writing to him - which I did.
Needless to say, my estimation of PJH declines yearly.
Move to CheltenhamIn June 2009 David and I ourselves moved home to Cheltenham, in furtherance of David's career. It was a hard thing to leave all the friends we made in Basingstoke and also the house and garden which we had made our home, with all its - generally good - memories. I have not told PJH of my new address; though he could find it very easily if he deigned to accept the "FaceBook friend" request I have sent him.
Our first six months in Cheltenham went very well. We have made lots of new friends and have transformed our new garden. Our household had a third member; as Henry, young man with mental health issues joined us as a lodger. I had met Henry on a MySpace philosophy group a couple of years earlier. We became close friends and I was able to help him a lot with his philosophical. psychological and spiritual development. Unfortunately, everything went horribly wrong just after Christmas and Henry left us. I don't know what happened exactly, as he stopped talking to me while whatever was going on inside him took shape. Now he won't communicate with me at all. I feel that I am going through a somewhat reduced version of the PJH experience all over again. David has been very understanding and supportive throughout this process.
I am still looking for a publisher for my first "Swords and Sorcery" novel - it really is a time consuming and thankless slog!
I have just finishd my second non-fiction book "The
Good of Being" and am hoping to get this published with the people
who produced my first book.
brings you up to date with my "history". I am interested in lots of things.
Here's a list:
My "heroes" are: Jeremiah the Prophet,
(picture to right),
Alexander the Great, Stephen the Protomartyr, Athanasius, Prince
Charles Edward Stewart (picture below), Isaac Newton, William Blake,
Isembard Kingdom Brunel, Cardinal
Pope Leo XIII, Oscar Wilde, Karl Popper and Margaret Thatcher.
Theologically, I am of a "radical-orthodox-traditionalist" bent. I believe strongly in objective truth and the reliability of the Christian Tradition, but I do not think that the conventional attempt to turn truth and tradition into simple rules about "do and don't" is at all successful. I am disenchanted with what has been going on in the Catholic Church over the last forty years, seeing it as a "dumbing down" both of the practice and theory of the faith. I would like to see more honesty and dialogue in the Church, coupled with a confidence that the Gospel is "God's Truth", and rightly appreciated holds the answers to mankind's troubles. In essence, I think, the Good News is that God wants to be the friend of all men and women, and that it is time we started being each other's friends.
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