TRANSITION TO A COMMUNITY-BASED ECONOMY
Associate Heather Marshall writes about the Transition Movement and Transition Towns.
I first came across Transtion Towns in a newspaper article about Lampeter and Totnes, towns which were looking to organise their daily activity without depending on oil – and I wished I lived somewhere that was engaging in just such a conversation! Some years on, the Transition Movement has gathered pace since those pioneer towns, reaching all around the world, including my nearby town of Hawick in the Scottish Borders. Our local group, A Greener Hawick, has embarked on the Transition process and my wish has come true!
What is Transition?
The transition referred to in Transition Towns and the Transition Movement is the transition from an economy based on globalisation, the need for economic growth and the availability of cheap oil, to one focussed on what we need locally, and how we can produce it locally, without the easy availability of the energy supplies we enjoy today.
There is a Transition Handbook which gives background to the twin challenges we now face of climate change and Peak Oil, and which gives practical suggestions on how to encourage local activity, and as a group we have read and absorbed much of its contents. We are organising seminars, film showings and panel discussions to raise awareness of the challenges that we will all face in the next 20 years. From there we seek to motivate individuals and community groups to come together and make plans to create a local economy, considering the need to have good secure food supplies, energy supplies, transport, education, all the things that matter to us in our daily lives – but will look somewhat different without cheap and easily available oil.
For many of us, right now, the future beyond plentiful, cheap oil is unimaginable. But in all the literature I have seen associated with the Transtion Movement I am left with the possibility of something far better than what we have now. It is not a return to the 'dark ages', as some see it, but more a chance to create, as Rob Hopkins (the initiator of the Transition Movement) puts it: 'an abundant future: one which is energy-lean, time-rich, less stressful, healthier and happier.' And I think most of us who are challenged and often dismayed by the way our society is largely based on accumulation of money and stuff, would breathe a sigh of relief at its passing.
For me it is truly about the chance to be where I am, not jumping in a car each day to be somewhere else; doing work that serves my local community and provides something of real (not necessarily monetary) value, and enjoying the company and talents of others in person, not through a screen.
The future is orchards:
So what might Transition mean practically?
I had an idea, when walking round Biddulph Grange Gardens in the summer, of initiating a Community Orchard in the village of Denholm where I live. I thought of the number of existing fruit trees in the village which are not harvested; and you can regularly see fruit rotting in gardens and on the street (I hasten to add this can include our garden too!). If I, as a committed, fit, forty-something can't keep on top of my fruit trees, how does a busy parent or elderly person manage? Perhaps the community could organise a service where fruit trees could be well-cared for, and harvested with surplus produce sold or processed for the benefit of the community. And this fruit could be available now, not waiting for the growth of a newly planted orchard, which would of course be the next step. As I talked over this idea, the possibility of keeping bees and chickens and even pigs (EU regulations allowing) in the orchard adds excitement. Others suggest allotments for the village, point out 'wasteland' that could be used and tell me how Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall has already been trying all this out!
So here is the tangible possibility of a community coming together and creating jobs (real jobs pursuing a right livelihood of producing food for the community and caring for the land). With these jobs comes a small business of tending the land, providing food from the land, supporting animals, creating more jobs to process and sell the food, not just in the village but to the towns and villages around us, who will have their own goods and services to trade with us.
Of course you will recognise this as trade as it has been since time immemorial, but has escaped our practices of late in favour of moving money on screens around the world, and calling this economic activity. Whilst not the answer to everything, the Transition Movement does offer a model for creating community-based economic activity, to replace an economy driven by the need for economic growth which has supported the wasteful, damaging habits we have acquired that have left Creation under such threat.
Most of all, it reinforces that deep truth that we all are connected with each other and with the land; and if we embrace renewing our relationships with each other and the land, the possibilities are only limited by our imagination.
We are having our first meeting about Community Orchards in Denholm in March. What will 2030 look like for your community?
For more information on the Transition Towns Movement: www.transitiontowns.org, or contact Eva Schonveld at eva@transitionscotland.org
The Transitions Towns Handbook: From Oil Dependency to Local Resilence, by Rob Hopkins, is available from Green Books
greenbooks.co.uk/store/transition-handbook-p-273.html
GANDHI FOUNDATION ANNUAL LECTURE
For over 30 years, Community Members Helen Steven and Ellen Moxley have campaigned tirelessly against WMDs and the arms industry. In 2004, Helen and Ellen received the Gandhi International Peace Award and gave the 2004 Gandhi Foundation Annual Lecture.
Many Iona folk may not have heard or yet read this talk, which is entitled 'Nonviolence or Nonexistence'.
gandhifoundation.org/2004/11/14/2004-peace-award-and-annual-lecture-helen-steven-and-ellen-moxley/
THE LEAVING OF BOSSEY …
Community Member Murdoch MacKenzie has spent the last six months volunteering at The Ecumenical Institute at Bossey.The Ecumenical Institute is the international centre for encounter, dialogue and formation of the World Council of Churches. Founded in 1946, the Institute brings together people from diverse churches, cultures and backgrounds for ecumenical learning, academic study and personal exchange.
Big people don’t cry – except on the jetty when leaving Iona, or in the early morning when leaving Bossey. It has been said: ‘The world is small but Iona is big.’ The same is true of Bossey. In both you can grasp the hand of friend and stranger, of pilgrims from faraway places, of those who come seeking peace and unity and leave seeking justice. Iona – a dream – perhaps a nightmare! – for George MacLeod. Bossey, the dream of W.A. Visser’t Hooft, as he and others gave shape to the World Council of Churches in 1946.
Nestling above the shore of Lake Geneva, with the long range of the pine-forested Jura mountains behind and the magnificence of the Alps rising across the lake, the Château de Bossey has a beauty and a tranquillity all of its own. Yet, like Iona, Bossey is a thin place, with a fragility which beckons strangers to become friends in the mystery of ecumenical encounter within the love of God. It is a vulnerable place with all the conflicts and clashes of cultures, all the imperfections of participants and staff, which are not unknown on Iona. Like Iona, Bossey is what we bring to it. In the words of Hans Ruedi Weber: 'It has a chapel but no spirituality of its own. It has its organisation, but no monastic rules, no prescribed code of behaviour. Its continuity has to be built up every time again. The tears at the departure are as strong a reality as the smile of the first encounter.' It sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
Quite out of the blue, Anne and I were asked if we would go as volunteers to Bossey to accompany 43 students from 25 countries in the 60th Session of the Graduate School of Ecumenical Studies from mid-September to mid-February 2008-9. The theme for this 60th Session was concerned with Poverty and Wealth in Overcoming Violence in the light of the message of 2 Corinthians 5:18: ‘God has given us the Ministry of Reconciliation.' Successful students gained credits from the University of Geneva, eight will complete a short Master’s course in June, whilst others are now continuing their studies for two years towards obtaining a Master of Theology in Ecumenical Studies. Six nuns, two Lutheran, two Catholic and two Orthodox are pursuing a new programme in Ecumenical Spirituality together.
Thus we suddenly found ourselves in the midst of the World Church. A Baptist from Myanmar, Reformed from Thailand, Kenya, Nigeria, Uganda and Rwanda, Orthodox from Romania, Greece, Russia, Cyprus, Ukraine and Serbia, Catholics from Guatemala, Rwanda, Poland and India, Pentecostals from Nigeria, Sierra Leone and Guinea, Methodists from USA, Burundi and South Korea, Anglicans from Sudan, Sri Lanka, USA, Rwanda and Burundi, Lutherans from Tanzania, United Church people, like ourselves, from Zambia and India, and Protestants from China.
Working alongside people struggling with the situation of boy soldiers in Sudan, of HIV/AIDS in Burundi, of pollution in China, of vulnerable ethnic children in Myanmar, of women being trafficked in Thailand, of eco-justice in South Korea, of truth and reconciliation in Rwanda, of violence against women in Nigeria, of Christian unity in the Chinese context, of peace and international security in Uganda, of inculturation of traditional dance into worship in Zambia, of violence in the Great Lakes region of Africa, of dialogue between Buddhists and Christians in Thailand, of polygamy in Southern Sudan, of Dalits in India, of mission alongside vulnerable people in Tanzania, of challenges facing the United Church of Zambia, of the Trinity in interfaith dialogue in the USA, of the role of Pentecostal prophetic leaders in Nigeria, of the future of Christianity in the European Union, and of so much more, was, to say the least, an exhilarating and humbling experience. What do you say to someone both of whose parents were killed in the genocide in Rwanda? Or to someone who spent many years as a child soldier in Sudan?
As well as the students in residence, Bossey is home each year to hundreds of organisations, usually with three or more meetings each day. Just as we were leaving, the Centre for International Humanitarian Cooperation had begun a month’s interactive sharing between 35 people from conflict zones around the world, at which we heard David Owen speak on Zimbabwe. A random sample of other users included the World Health Organisation, pilgrims from a German church, UNICEF, UNCTAD, WCC Friends in Korea, the World Trade Organisation, World Vision and the World Wide Fund for Nature. Also during our five months people came from various bodies across the globe to plan for their celebrations of Edinburgh 2010, the centenary of the ecumenical movement, focussing on Mission in the 21st century, to be celebrated not only in Edinburgh but within their own contexts. At the WCC in Geneva a public hearing was held on the whole issue of reconciliation. It was chaired by Revd Kjell Magne Bondevik, a former Prime Minister of Norway, who is also moderator of the WCC Churches Commission on International Affairs. He stressed the dilemma that societies often face between justice, on the one hand, and peace on the other.
In amongst all of this there were parties, dancing and singing, in Asian, African and European nights; walking in the snow high up in the Juras; as well as amazing morning worship with songs and stories from around the world to the sound of drums from Africa and Orthodox chanting from Romania. Nigerians were making snowmen and visitors from the UK discussing how stronger links could be forged between St Colm’s, Iona, Scottish Churches House, Queens Birmingham and Bossey. The leaving of all of this was not easy and many a tear was shed as students departed to return home. Eventually it was our turn one morning early at 7am with our car surrounded by a semi-circle of students, some in dressing gowns, singing ‘Masithi Amen, siyakudumisa’ as we embraced each one and with lumps in our throats turned the car towards Scotland. But then, big people don’t cry …
African Cultural Night
New Year's Day in the Dining Hall at Bossey
The Ecumenical Institute, Château de Bossey
www.oikoumene.org/en/activities/bossey.html
CRUCIFIXION, A PAINTING BY DE MAISTRE
Hanging in the North Transept of Iona Abbey is a painting entitled 'Crucifixion'. When it first came to Iona, and in what circumstances, no one seems to know. I remember it being there in the summer of 1964, the year I joined the Community, so it’s not a new acquisition. Last year, because it was showing signs of quite serious deterioration, it was cleaned and restored, and set in a new frame behind a screen of non-reflective glass. So it has been given a new lease of life, and should be good for a long time to come. I was told that technically, it’s a very good picture, and was well worth restoring. Theologically, I think, it is also a very powerful picture, and well worth looking at more closely.
I can confirm that the title of the painting is 'Crucifixion' – without the definite article – because I saw the word written by the artist on the reverse of the picture. The repair work entailed sealing the picture on to a new canvas backing, so that the title can’t now be seen; so it’s probably good to record it here. The painting is signed 'R. de Maistre' and dated '1945-46'. Who was he?
Roy de Maistre, whose family roots are in France, was born in Australia in 1894. He studied art in Sydney and during World War I served as medical orderly with the Royal Australian Army Medical Corps. He travelled in Europe during 1923-25 and eventually, in 1930, settled permanently in London, where he stayed till his death in 1968. In 1951, he was received into the Roman Catholic Church.
De Maistre’s painting is not exclusively or even centrally concerned with biblical or religious themes, but they do form a significant element in his work.
In 1951, he began painting 'The Stations of the Cross' for Westminster Cathedral. Our painting comes before these, immediately after World War II. During the war years, starting in 1940, de Maistre worked for the French Section, Joint War Organisation of the British Red Cross and the Order of St John in London, and in 1940 was posted to the Red Cross’ Foreign Relations Department. I’ve seen a note to say that during the war, de Maistre stopped painting. If so, 'Crucifixion' may well have been among the very first paintings to be completed after he took up his brushes again.
At first sight, the subject of the painting seems obvious enough. It’s clear that this is a painting of the Crucified One, Jesus of Nazareth. Around the bowed head is the rough circlet of thorns, reddened with blood. And yet equally clearly it’s not an 'illustration' of the scene on the hill of Calvary, as described in the Gospels. There are no other figures seen – no soldiers gambling, no women weeping, no crowds jeering. The top part of the cross is hidden beyond the top of the picture, the traditional placard with its 'INRI' absent. What is de Maistre trying to express here?
By 1945-46, something of the fuller horrors of the war would have been known, and his own experiences through his work in the Red Cross would have been fresh and poignant. Add to these his experiences as a medical orderly in the First World War, out of which he worked on devising a 'colour treatment' for shell-shocked soldiers, and it’s not too much to say that in 'Crucifixion', de Maistre is giving expression to his sense of the reality of human suffering. He does so, however, with some reserve, as if he can’t bring himself to portray the whole picture. We don’t see the man’s face, or his hands, or his feet. But we do know that his body is hanging, and that he is dying or dead. The first theme of the painting, at one level, is humanity’s inhumanity, a not uncommon subject for artists of the modern era.
In Paris, after the war, Georges Rouault expressed similar emotions with his painting 'Homo homini lupus' (Man is a wolf to man). Painted in 1948, it too was Rouault’s response to the destruction and misery of war. The motif he used, however, was not a cross but a gibbet. On it hangs the body of a man, lifeless and alone, while a blood-stained moon looks down on a war-blasted landscape. Both paintings, completed in the immediate aftermath of war, express both the pain and the pity of war: The North Transept of the Abbey, where information about issues of peace and peace-making, justice and humanity are highlighted, is the right place for de Maistre’s painting.
But there’s something else. As well as expressing a deep sensitivity to human suffering, de Maistre displays the profound understanding that in the Cross, Christ identifies with all who suffer in the world today. And in that identification is the humanity of God, the ground of our hope. In his book 'On a Friday Noon', Hans-Ruedi Weber points out that originally the Cross in Christian art dealt not with the suffering of Jesus but with the victory of Christ. In that, the earlier artists were reflecting a central theme of the New Testament which speaks of the Cross not in terms of human suffering, but in terms of the victorious fulfilment of God’s plan of salvation. Jesus as both Victim and Victor. An example of that theme can be found on at least one of the high crosses on Iona. Called MacLean’s Cross, it stands by the roadside below the Parish Church. In the centre you can make out the figure of Christ, in royal robes: Cross and Resurrection together.
De Maistre conveys the same message, I believe, by the simple device of altering the levels of the horizon on either side of the Cross. Here, he is saying, is the decisive moment in human history, the seismic shift which indicates the beginning of a New Day, a New World. That’s the ground of our hope, out of which, and within which we seek to realise that new world of justice and peace, forgiveness and reconciliation, and that fullness of life which Christ has already brought through the Cross.
Of course, I look at the painting from a Christian perspective. Others with another faith or none may look at the picture differently, or ignore it completely. But it’s also quite possible – given the numbers of people who come to Iona from all walks of life and with all sorts of life questions – that someone might stand before the painting and be moved to ask what it means for them. And who can say where that search might lead.
Stewart Smith
Prayer
O Jesus, you weren’t only crucified 2000 years ago.
You are being crucified today –
here and now …
We pray for those who are being crucified here and now:
We pray for those being crucified by poverty:
in Sudan, in Easterhouse in Glasgow …
For victims of capitalism and other powers;
for those struggling under the burden of unfair debt and trade,
unfair debt and trade we profit by.
We pray for children being crucified.
Children working in sweatshops around the world.
Children who make the clothes we wear,
who help to harvest the food we eat.
We pray for women being crucified.
Women working in the sex trade in London, in Bangkok …
Women who suffer abuse in our neighbourhoods
and in the neighbourhood of the world.
Women who suffer while we are look away, deny, remain silent.
We pray for those being crucified by disease,
by AIDS, TB, malaria …
Diseases which might be cured if only we’d choose life;
if only, as a nation, we didn’t spend 29.9 billion pounds every year
on the military;
if only, as a world, we didn’t spend over one trillion dollars U.S. a year
on death.
We pray for those being crucified in jails around the world,
in jails in Saudi Arabia, Indonesia, Guatemala, Guantanamo Bay …
in countries and by countries whose governments
our government is happy to do business with
and to call good friends.
And we pray for this good earth we stand on,
this precious, fragile planet
we pay mock homage,
give poisoned streams to drink,
bind with fences,
strip and beat and flog,
pierce with spears until the blood and water pours out.
Jesus Christ,
we confess our complicity in all these crucifixions,
and in others.
Forgive us, Lord, we know not what we do.
Or do we?
We give thanks for individuals and organisations
working to bring healing and
hope in your world:
Church Action on Poverty
Oxfam
Save the Children
Christian Aid
Médecins Sans Frontières
Amnesty International
Earth First!
We give thanks for their passion and commitment.
Spirit of love, help us to do all that we can to support them in their work;
help us to do more to ease suffering and to bring healing and hope,
in our neighbourhoods and in the neighbourhood of the world.
Christ has no other hands but our hands:
No other hands but our hands
to do God’s work in the world.
Christ has no love but our love:
No love but our love to share
with the imprisoned, the silenced,
the persecuted, the marginalised.
Amen
Neil Paynter, From a Stations of the Cross
MacLean's Cross, Iona. Photo © Anja Grosse-Uhlmann. Anja is a photographer and cook living on Iona.
www.orancrafts.co.uk
THE UNTIDY DRAWER
Tom Gordon, Chaplain at Marie Curie Hospice in Edinburgh, reads excerpts from his book 'A Need for Living: Signposts on the Journey of Life and Beyond' (Wild Goose Publications). 'A Need for Living' is a book 'for people facing a life crisis and for those who care for the dying. Ultimately it is for everyone, especially those for whom traditional words and symbols have failed, and who need new images to help them live again …'
www.iona.org.uk/podcasts/Tom 2.mp3
www.ionabooks.com/1901557545-A-Need-For-Living.html
