The SatNav of life and the theology of postcodes .......
Every time I travel home I am advised by the sat nav to turn left into my neighbours property.
As my neighbour is some six fields away I ignore the satnav's prompting and carry on for a 1/4 of a mile or so and turn into my own gate.
I am then advised to turn around and then turn left.
The satnav and I then have a few words until I switch off the ignition only to resume the conversation on the next occasion.
The reason for all this confusion is postcodes.
My neighbour (six fields away) and I share a postcode.
Since the postcodes invention it has become the dominant location identifier. If you enter your postcode into a search engine you will be invited to choose your address from a drop down list.
I usually choose my address rather than my neighbours, although letters and parcels are often delivered theirs to us and ours to theirs.
In fact on the occasion of our moving into our new house the furniture van headed towards their house with all our furniture, goods and chattels!
I guess that before postcodes parish boundaries served a similar purpose.
Identification.
Location.
Your place in the world.
I live on the edge of things. I live on a boundary.
The River Derwent is the demarker of the point when the Diocese of Newcastle elides into the Diocese of Durham. It demarks the point when my parish elides into the parish of Shotley Bridge in both a different County and a different Diocese.
It may well be that when the boundaries were drawn if there had been postcodes I may now not only share a postcode with a neighbour but we may both be living in a different county and parish and diocese .
So the DH postcode identifies us as living in Shotley Bridge, in Consett in the County of Durham whereas in fact we live in Shotley in the County of Northumberland.
I once attended a conference when one of the speakers, an Australian, spoke on the theology of postcodes.
My memory of his contribution was that when parish boundaries were dropped in favour of postcodes all sorts of things made sense.
The normal divisions of human living were made clearer because postcodes defined both class and race connections, community makeup and differences, in Australian society.
Here the distinctions are possibly not as stark.
Nevertheless the make up of parish life in this region of the Northeast of England is shaped by the way some of us who live in a DH postcode do in fact look towards Consett for our shopping, our entertainment and leisure activity whereas those of us with an NE postcode could be seen to be looking towards Hexham.
Although I must admit to looking at both sides now, after all there is neither a Waitrose nor a Majestic Wines in Consett!
On one side of me is a united benefice of eight parishes which are divided by the postcodes DH and NE which raises the interesting question of whether and how they might be perceived as a 'group with common interests and agendas if the DH part is drawn South to Consett and Barry's Bargains and the NE part is drawn North to Waitrose.
My nearest parish neighbour recently reached out and I responded so if we were to make common cause, support each other in our ministry or even pray and study the bible together, whilst parish boundaries might be challenged or offended by this, the satnav would be quite comfortable.
Recent social, community and parish activity has seen the dissolving of parish and diocesan boundaries and the strengthening of postcode relationships as prayer meetings, bible study courses and celebrations including work including with refugees and the homeless have been focused on real time community relationships and shared postcodes.
I love living on the edge.
Some years ago I ran a poetry event at Selly Oak on the theme of living on the edge, on the boundary, it produced some good poetry.
I think a theology of edginess is entirely appropriate in a community that has determined that faith is neither necessary or needful.
As churches we have lost at least three generations who live in the comfortable centre of lives that no longer need to be justified by faith.
Having lost a partner of fifty years and a son at age 38 I am of necessity struggling to hang on to the faith that I learned as a younger man.
But I guess like Job I might say, 'I know that my redeemer liveth' and I am sustained by the essential promise that 'underneath are the everlasting arms'.
So I continue as best as I can to do 'justice', to live 'humbly with my God' and to set my course by the satnav of life, always of course ignoring the instructions that lead me in the wrong direction entirely.
As my neighbour is some six fields away I ignore the satnav's prompting and carry on for a 1/4 of a mile or so and turn into my own gate.
I am then advised to turn around and then turn left.
The satnav and I then have a few words until I switch off the ignition only to resume the conversation on the next occasion.
The reason for all this confusion is postcodes.
My neighbour (six fields away) and I share a postcode.
Since the postcodes invention it has become the dominant location identifier. If you enter your postcode into a search engine you will be invited to choose your address from a drop down list.
I usually choose my address rather than my neighbours, although letters and parcels are often delivered theirs to us and ours to theirs.
In fact on the occasion of our moving into our new house the furniture van headed towards their house with all our furniture, goods and chattels!
I guess that before postcodes parish boundaries served a similar purpose.
Identification.
Location.
Your place in the world.
I live on the edge of things. I live on a boundary.
The River Derwent is the demarker of the point when the Diocese of Newcastle elides into the Diocese of Durham. It demarks the point when my parish elides into the parish of Shotley Bridge in both a different County and a different Diocese.
It may well be that when the boundaries were drawn if there had been postcodes I may now not only share a postcode with a neighbour but we may both be living in a different county and parish and diocese .
So the DH postcode identifies us as living in Shotley Bridge, in Consett in the County of Durham whereas in fact we live in Shotley in the County of Northumberland.
I once attended a conference when one of the speakers, an Australian, spoke on the theology of postcodes.
My memory of his contribution was that when parish boundaries were dropped in favour of postcodes all sorts of things made sense.
The normal divisions of human living were made clearer because postcodes defined both class and race connections, community makeup and differences, in Australian society.
Here the distinctions are possibly not as stark.
Nevertheless the make up of parish life in this region of the Northeast of England is shaped by the way some of us who live in a DH postcode do in fact look towards Consett for our shopping, our entertainment and leisure activity whereas those of us with an NE postcode could be seen to be looking towards Hexham.
Although I must admit to looking at both sides now, after all there is neither a Waitrose nor a Majestic Wines in Consett!
On one side of me is a united benefice of eight parishes which are divided by the postcodes DH and NE which raises the interesting question of whether and how they might be perceived as a 'group with common interests and agendas if the DH part is drawn South to Consett and Barry's Bargains and the NE part is drawn North to Waitrose.
My nearest parish neighbour recently reached out and I responded so if we were to make common cause, support each other in our ministry or even pray and study the bible together, whilst parish boundaries might be challenged or offended by this, the satnav would be quite comfortable.
Recent social, community and parish activity has seen the dissolving of parish and diocesan boundaries and the strengthening of postcode relationships as prayer meetings, bible study courses and celebrations including work including with refugees and the homeless have been focused on real time community relationships and shared postcodes.
I love living on the edge.
Some years ago I ran a poetry event at Selly Oak on the theme of living on the edge, on the boundary, it produced some good poetry.
I think a theology of edginess is entirely appropriate in a community that has determined that faith is neither necessary or needful.
As churches we have lost at least three generations who live in the comfortable centre of lives that no longer need to be justified by faith.
Having lost a partner of fifty years and a son at age 38 I am of necessity struggling to hang on to the faith that I learned as a younger man.
But I guess like Job I might say, 'I know that my redeemer liveth' and I am sustained by the essential promise that 'underneath are the everlasting arms'.
So I continue as best as I can to do 'justice', to live 'humbly with my God' and to set my course by the satnav of life, always of course ignoring the instructions that lead me in the wrong direction entirely.
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