making all things new

 The underlying theme of my recent musings grew out of an interest in ordinary, domestic architecture and design. The new residential communities of the 70s and 80s changed the way we live, where we live and the landscape around us.  But, taken house by house, estate by estate we don't recognise just how big those changes were, yet the lure of the 70s villa and its successors have had dramatic effect. We just need to stand back and take in the sheer scale the changes.

Especially in the current political and economic climate, which can feel as though it is replaying the darkest moments of earlier decades, it is tempting to suggest that in reality 'nothing much changes'. If there is truth in that, maybe it is because we are scared by the breadth of possibility which lies before us and convince ourselves that tiny, incremental change is all we can cope with. 

I moved out of my cosy, domestic interests to visit an exhibition of the work of architect Zaha Hadid. Known the sweeping rooflines of buildings such as the London Aquatics Centre designed for the 2012 Olympics, the exhibition focused on her early influences and thinking which underpin her work. Reimagining London offers a vison of something extraordinary and very much in contrast to what we see today when we gaze across the incredibly beautiful, vertical landscape of London today. Zaha Hadid is far more interested in the horizontal planes and in building down, rather than up. I have to admit the images I saw truly blew my mind. They describe a radical vision which demands that we look at the demands of living in a totally different way. A review of the exhibition tries to express the inexpressible:

Ablood red River Thames hurtles across a long sheet of black paper on the wall, splicing through a fractured landscape of city blocks that twist and sway as if commanded by some irresistible force. Tangled webs of arteries fan outwards from the centre of London, breaking through the M25 and surging eastwards, meeting in a crescendo of coloured shards that look ready to accelerate off the page.    (Oliver Wainwright in The Guardian - 14th June 2022)

The sheer scale and daring implicit in such ideas is utterly breath-taking, but also inspiring me to think what we could (can) achieve if  we dare to step away from the tightly controlled understandings which give us security, yet limit us.

  Early in my sabbatical journey I visited some houses on a windswept Kent estate that had fascinated me for years. Some of that fascination stemmed from them being so daringly inappropriate for the context. In a way that daring reminded my of some of the most beautiful Art Deco homes which often grace our seaside towns. (What is about the coast which provokes such rarefied thinking?)

At a discussion about recovering from the pandemic the speakers each set out a vision for what had changed (or should have changed) over the last couple of years.  During the course of the pandemic many of indulged in thinking about all the radical possibilities that lay before us. We learned about neighbourliness, wildlife exploring more urban environments, how the air could be cleaner, and in my context how we could  be church and community in new ways.

The seminar slightly disappointed by seeming to focus on how to make the old better, rather than how we could make 'all things new' (Revelation 21:5). Those words which pretty much round off the Christian scriptures should surely prompt us to seek a much bigger vision of how our world can be? 

These last weeks have opened up lots of new ideas, places and ways of being. Hardly what I expected, as embarked on a journey which was meant to help me reflect on the past. What has transpired is drawn not so much about the influences which got to me where I am, but the possibilities for new things which open up new perspectives, hopes and dreams.

I must admit this makes me somewhat fearful of going back to the 'day job' in a few weeks times. I know all the same desire to do things in a particular way, the fixed answers to every question, the parochial disputes and prejudices, not to mention the overwhelming bureaucracy which comes with trying to keep a dying institution on the road. Even the new stuff we try in a search to revitalise church life is pretty mundane, and has very few positive results. If we truly believe that God is making all things new - then the programmes and courses, the bible studies and prayer meetings are just a distraction, aimed at making sure nothing really changes.

The view of the London skyline brings me joy, but it is also comfortable and familiar. Daring to think it could be even more joyous is potentially dangerous - but with danger comes excitement.