Aberdeen Unitarian ChurchCALENDARNOVEMBER 2008
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CONTENTS
FOREWORD
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FOREWORDJust the other day, I came
across a quotation from a book by Professor Richard Dawkins,
the doughty champion of Darwin's Theory of Evolution against
the creationists and those committed to the 'Intelligent
Design Theory'. The quotation is: 'Nature is not cruel only
pitilessly indifferent'. Evolution or Nature having invented
the wonderful idea of 'life' left all the myriad
manifestations of that idea strictly to their own devices.
Nature couldn't care less about what happens to human beings
as a species or to butterflies or dolphins or elm trees or
nettles or sparrows or earwigs or grass snakes or anything
else that lives upon this planet. We human creatures may
have concepts of goodness and evil, kindness and cruelty,
but Nature is totally unaware of these consequences of its
actions, being ignorant of the fate of any of its creation,
whether we all suffer or survive, and has no particular plan
or destiny in mind for us. In his book, 'The Philosophy of
Civilization', Albert Schweitzer admits, 'It remains a
painful enigma for me that I must live with reverence for
life in a world which is dominated by creative Will which is
also destructive Will and destructive Will which is also
creative. The world is a ghastly drama of Many people are appalled by this mindless view of existence. 'What, then, is the point of Creation, if there is no overall plan? What is the meaning of human life if we exist in a random universe?' One answer, which I think has occurred to many people over the past six or seven thousand years, if their literature is to be trusted, is this awareness of Nature's indifference to us. Because we have developed intelligence and consciousness and because we are a part of Nature, we have made Nature itself aware of how things operate and have given Nature a conscience, of which, admittedly only we are aware, but it is sufficient that we make a difference where we can, as long as we have the will to do so. Our ever increasing knowledge of how the universe operates, claims Albert Schweitzer, places upon humankind a moral obligation to treat all life, no matter how it is packaged, with unconditional reverence. By doing so, we discover the meaning of our own existence on this planet. We are here to be the conscience of the Universe. Only we are aware of good and evil; and only we are able to do something about it. Given the vastness of the universe and the myriad forms of life on this small planet alone, our task is Herculean in dimension and more than enough to keep our hands occupied and our minds and spirits fully and happily engaged for the life-time of our species. Wm. S. Stephen (Secretary) Email: william134@btinternet.com or editor@aberdeen-unitarians.org.uk PASTORAL GREETINGSOur Church is very important to us, because it has been at the centre of our lives, Many of our great family occasions have been celebrated here. We have welcomed the new-born, rejoiced with the newly-wed and mourned the passing of the dearly loved. It is our sanctuary, where we find refuge from the turmoil of the world, a safe place where we are welcome and valued as friends. Many of us, however, are unable to attend services and Congregational occasions because of infirmity, and illness. However, our presence is acknowledged at every meeting. We who are absent are there is spirit and never forgotten. To all of our friends who dearly wish to be part of the Church company on every occasion, we send our greetings and best wishes. SERVICE OF REMEMBRANCEPlease note that in order to participate in the national Act of Remembrance at 11.00am, our Service will start at 10.50am. HALLOWE'EN FAIRSaturday 1st November, All Hallows Day, at 10.00am, we shall throw open the doors of our Church to welcome all our members, relatives, friends, neighbours and acquaintances to this major fund-raising event. Home baking, cakes and candies, pretty things, nik-naks, bits, bobs, bottles and books, raffles and tea, wheeling fortunes, fun and frolics, all in store for £1.50 (50p. juniors). Set up is on Hallowe'en at 10.00am. If you can help in any way please speak to Rhona Stewart. CHRISTMAS CRAFT FAIROur Christmas Craft Fair which specialises in gifts, cards, stationery, and decorations for Christmas, most of which are hand-made and therefore original, will take place on Saturday 6th December at 10.00am. Please note this in your Diary as an event not to be overlooked. A HARVEST OF HERRINGBy Bill Stephen "The sea wis heavin wi herrin. The wafter wis aa broken up wi their motion. Nivver, hiv I seen the like afore nor since. Then the boatie started tae cowp. She was gey near gaun ower, an fin I lookit up I saa this man come waalkin oot o the East. He raised up his airm and the boat juist gied a bit lift and I kent aathing wid be aa richt. He juist noddit he's heed as he gaed past, juist as naitril as ye like. ......." At this point in his story - and I heard him tell it several times Joe would add, either to confirm his exclusive claim to the experience or acknowledge his sole responsibility for it, should there be any doubt of its authenticity, "John wis lookin aft at the time an didnae see him. It wis juist me that saa him; but it wis him, I'll swear til it on my Bible, till the day I dee." On the first Thursday of July 1946 John shot his nets and hauled aboard the 'Violet' more than fifty crans of herring. Fifty crans or 200 baskets is a good catch. However, the 'Violet', named after John's eldest daughter, was a baldie, no more than 25 feet long, less than half the size of the normal herring boat of the time, and never intended to take more than half that load. I can still recall that Friday morning, watching the 'Violet' with barely ten inches of free-board, chug round the North breakwater, under a silver mountain of fresh herring, John just discernible in the tiny wheelhouse and Joe seated on a pile of nets in the stern. Half the town seemed to be on the South breakwater to see her cross the harbour bar, where many a ship before her had come to grief. However, that day there was a miraculous calm, not a ripple save a frothy pout at the 'Violet's' stem as she slipped between the pierheads and nosed into her moorings. The market bell was sounding and John dashed off with a sample of his catch. Almost immediately, he returned, his entire catch sold to the freshers, who packed the herring between layers of ice into wooden boxes which were then despatched to Billingsgate by the noon fish train. Some people censured John for being foolhardy in risking his boat and crew to land such an enormous catch; others while they admired his skill and courage, condemned his greed. Joe told his story a few times at the Sunday morning service but John remained silent until his daughter's wedding four years later, when he used his speech to deliver his religious testimony which included an account of that remarkable night. The people of Europe in 1946 were still crushed by the violence of the war; hunger and disease stalked the shattered cities; hundreds of thousands of homeless men women and children, desperate and confused were languishing in refugee camps. In Britain a bankrupt government had imposed a stricter rationing regime than ever and were anxious to maximise food production. Farmers and fishermen were exhorted almost daily to make ever greater efforts to increase their yields and catches. The Fishing journals were publicising a government report that the most nutritious fish of all was the humble herring, and since the supply was inexhaustible (how ironic that sounds now), every effort should be made during the season to maximise the herring harvest. John was an inshore line fisherman who rarely fished for herring. However, like other white-fish specialists he decided to ship drift nets and join the herring harvest, partly in response to the government's appeal, but principally out of religious conviction. People were starving, it was his Christian duty to help feed them and catching herring seemed the best way of doing it. John, Joe and many others of our community, lived lives deeply influenced by the Bible, particularly the New Testament. They felt a close kinship with the first Disciples, Peter, James, John, Andrew, who were all fishermen and could identify with their experiences on the Sea of Gallilee, the sudden storm, Jesus calming the wind and waves, and walking on the water. They were doing the same job, very much in the same way, for the same ends and subject to the same dangers. The two thousand years that separated them scarcely existed. Mentally, John and Joe, who carried their Bibles to sea with them and read them daily, existed in a moral and spiritual environment created by the writers of the New Testament. In fact we all, from the oldest to the youngest of us, lived within the pages of the New Testament, featuring as extras in the crowd scenes, over and over again, witnessing the activities of the principal characters. Our culture, in spite of the local library, newspapers, the cinema and the BBC, was quarried mostly from the pages of Scripture, and so we were steeped in the language, lore and philosophy of the Bible. Our lives were simple and since our livelihood was won from the sea, dominated by the elements. Any way of life is susceptible to the forces of change and is protected by the efforts of the people who support it. We had been born into our way of life and so we were committed to it, as it was the only one we knew and it gave us a sense of security. It gave our world a form and a meaning. We knew who we were, why we were here and what was expected of us. With this information, we could make sense of what was happening to us and when, on occasion events confounded our expectations or experience, we accepted it as the will of God. John then went on to tell us about that night in July 1946. He and Joe had already spent several unfruitful weeks in pursuit of herring, when he decided to meditate upon the story of the great draught of fishes in St. Luke, Chapter 5. After an unsuccessful night's fishing, encouraged by Jesus, the disciples had shot their nets again and been overwhelmed by the size of the catch. John, living within the same spiritual environment, saw no reason why he could not achieve a similar outcome. He knew how the system worked. If his faith were strong enough, not only would he achieve a similar result, it would be done safely, as he was motivated by a desire to provide food for hungry people. In fact he was testing his religious faith against the realities that all fishermen face, the weather, the sea and the location of his quarry, the fish. It never occurred to him to doubt that there would be fish; Genesis guaranteed that humankind had dominion over everything upon the earth. The night was moonless but bright with starlight, as they shot their nets. The sea was glassy calm. Wreaths of mist hovered like spectres between seas and sky. The 'Violet' drifted gently with her nets. They were suddenly aware of an unfamiliar rushing sound, like a tide race, and all around them the sea started to shake and convulse as an enormous shoal of herring surged around their small craft, churning the surface into a blinding phosphorescent froth. As soon as they started to haul their nets a cataract of shining silver bodies tumbled on to the deck, slithered across the boards and into the hold. A silver leviathan rose up from the sea, was snagged on the side of the boat and started to pull it under. The water was lapping over the gunwale. They desperately tried to stay upright on the tilting deck while tearing at the net with their hands to free it. Suddenly it split where it had been caught on the gunwale. An avalanche of fish cascaded over the two men as they fell backwards, pulling the net over themselves. The 'Violet' lifted and righted herself, as the first rays of the sun flashed over the horizon. 'It's aa richt,' shouted Joe. 'The Maister's here. We're safe!' 'And so we were,' said John, as he ended his wedding speech, 'but I never had ony doots that we would be. We were in the Good Lord's hands, then as noo, and we would be safe whatever happened, baith in this world and the next." John's world, our world, however, was already passing, though few realised it then. The great herring harvests continued and for he next ten years or so, as schoolboy and student I participated in each one of them. Occasionally I worked in the kippering kilns, another year in the curing yards, then in the canning or the freezing factories, sometimes on the quayside or the fish banks in the railway yard, wherever muscle and brawn were fairly rewarded. It is the nature of fish that as soon as it leaves the water, it starts to deteriorate, and so speed in preserving it is essential. The herring catch has to be processed on the day it is landed, whether it is kippered or packed into barrels of salt and brine, frozen or canned, operations requiring many hands, strong backs, physical stamina to cope with twelve or fourteen hour shifts in wet and exposed conditions and will power to keep at it day after day. Several thousand people depended upon the herring harvest for their livelihood every summer, but money was not our only reward. We were continuing a tradition started by our ancestors; we were participating in a cooperative endeavour that harvested food from the North sea and distributed about the country in good condition as quickly as possible; we were members of a community with a clear understanding of its role in the scheme of things, we had a purpose and what we did was wholesome, beneficial, life-sustaining. We occupied the moral high ground; our labours had been sanctified by Jesus himself on the Sea of Gallilee. We were a society at peace with itself. The boat's themselves proclaimed our objective, 'The Harvester' 'The Reaper', 'The Sea Harvester', the 'Silver Harvester' 'the Golden Harvest', 'The Golden Shear, 'The Harvest Moon', 'The Harvest Field', 'The Gleaner'. The 'Plentiful', the 'Bountiful'. 'The Cornucopia', 'The Provider'; and our spiritual aspirations, 'The Faithful'. 'The Good Shepherd', 'The Beatitudes', 'Green Pastures', The Promised Land', 'The Kindly Light', 'The Hopeful, 'The Harmony', 'The Pilgrim's Progress'. During the long summer weeks the herring Harvest took possession of the town, from daybreak to sunset and sometimes later if the catch had been unusually generous. The day starts quietly enough with the first boats appearing on the horizon soon to be crowded with masts and funnels and plumes of smoke as the steam drifters, the last survivors of their kind, raced side by side with their diesel-driven rivals for the best berths at the quayside. The harvest is coming home. Quickly the jetties are choked with carts and lorries, end on to the quayside to receive the baskets of herring lifted from the teeming hold and swung through the air by screeching derricks. The fish are tumbled into boxes and kits, liberally salted and the baskets are thrown back onboard to be filled again as quickly as possible. Smoke and steam and diesel fumes drift across the basins. Seabirds, thousands of them scream and squabble as they wheel and dive to pick up the herring falling from the airborne baskets. The sharp clangour of the market bell cuts through the din. Steel shod hooves clatter on the cobblestones, carters and lorry drivers shout and curse each other as they try to extricate themselves from the melee and head off into town with their loads, leaving a trail of sea water and herring oil in their wake. By 8.30 the first loads are emptied on to the benches in the kilns and factories and for the rest of the day, the gutters, the kipperers, the canners will transform the catch into products that will remain edible for months to come. Late in the afternoon, a score or more of kilns will light their fires and the town will be enveloped in a pall of brown wood smoke that will dim the sun to a pale amber ball and the bright sky to a dingy fawn. U ntH the fires are drawn six or seven hours later, every mouthful that is eaten and every sip that passes our lips will be laced with the acrid taste of burnt oak. But nobody minds. The streets are slippery with fish scales and herring oil. But nobody minds. From pierhead to hedgerow the whole town reeks of fish. But nobody minds. This is what we do. This is why we are here like our fathers and grandfathers before us; this is our harvest home.....but no longer. That was then. This is now. Where once the curing-stations and fish-houses stood, where the coopers, the filleters and the packers worked and the smokers set their fires, the bulldozers have wreaked their havoc. An elegy of shattered masonry, twisted metal and splintered timbers is all that remains of a hundred years of harvesting and of the reapers' way of life. The heart of this community has been ripped out. 'As ye sow so shall ye reap' and reaping without sowing creates a barren harvest. Decades of profligate fishing have emptied the sea of its most prolific crop and all around the coast silent harbours, shelter only a few sea birds behind their crumbling walls. Sixty years ago we were harvesting our future. Now the stockyard is empty. White-fishing survives, but by a much reduced fleet. It happened recently on BBC 1 on a Wednesday evening from 8.30 to 9.00. And there is a little herring fishing, enough to produce the occasional kipper as a breakfast luxury. Conservation, rather than catching, however, is the politically correct approach to the fishing industry at the moment. His critics accused John of recklessness and greed, but none of them found his action arrogant, yet that would have been nearer the mark. Faith and arrogance tend to go hand in hand, if the former is not leavened by humility, and as a community we were strong in our faith, firm in our self-belief, convinced of the value of our work, and confident of our future. The concept of a sea devoid of fish never occurred to us, except perhaps in some horrendous nightmare. Absolute faith engenders absolute security; arrogance makes one impatient of restraint; together they form a dangerous alliance. Our contemporary society is dominated, not by ancient scripture but by Science, and in spite of its many disasters, we have implicit faith that Science will solve our material problems, continue to support our affluent life-style and even improve upon it. We have cast Science in the role of the great provider, the great Reaper that has the ability to harvest the whole planet to satisfy our needs. But for how much longer? A recent report concluded that to sustain the life-style currently enjoyed by the citizens of the USA, for the foreseeable future, the resources of the earth and of another five planets of similar size and constitution, will be required....leaving nothing over for the rest of the human race! Science can achieve anything we wish, if we are arrogant and selfish enough to require it. What Joe saw among the morning mists was a projection of his own helplessness in the form of his Saviour from whom he anticipated immediate help. He attributed no responsibility to himself or to John for their predicament. All had been the will of God and clearly God would rescue them. Our planet is in crisis because we have been exploiting its resources without due care. We are responsible for pollution, global warming and all the many consequences of our thoughtlessness. Sustainable harvests depend upon sound husbandry which requires cooperation with Nature in a fair and equal partnership. If we can use science wisely towards such an end then the planet earth may escape the catastrophic fate that has overtaken so many fishing communities and continue to provide food, shelter and a wholesome environment for all its myriad life forms. GOLDEN CONGRATULATIONSJEAN INKSON
Other office-bearers of the Aberdeen League have come and gone over the past fifty years, but Jean has remained as the source of continuity, linking present and past, maintaining the ideals, traditions and aims of the League through all the changing fortunes of the Church, the Denomination and indeed of society as a whole, since social values have changed so radically over the past half century. Under Jean's guiding hand, the Aberdeen League has continued to flourish, meeting weekly from October to May, sustaining a programme of activities, talks, discussions, fund-raising for the National project and other good causes, practical activities, excursions to places of interest and occasional entertainment. As a result the Aberdeen Branch has survived as one of the most successful Leagues in the Denomination. It has enjoyed the full support of its members in all its activities and continues to attract new recruits. In addition to her local obligations, Jean has enjoyed a very busy career in both the National and International versions of the League. She is a much loved and respected past-President of the U.K. National League, Assistant Treasurer of the I.A.L.R.W. (the international Branch) a member of the U.K. National Executive Committee and Secretary of the Scottish District League. She has travelled far and wide throughout the world on League business and has made friends and acquaintances in many different countries. Jean has enjoyed the many years of hard work she has devoted to the cause of Unitarian women and has richly deserved the many tributes she has received over the past few weeks on this special anniversary. Jean is the firm and reliable support that our movement depends upon, a facilitator that allows new ideas to germinate and flourish while preserving what is good and noble from the past and projecting our traditional values and ideals into the future. GOLDEN CELEBRATIONJOHN LAWRENCEOn the last day of November we are to celebrate John's Golden Anniversary as our Organist. John not only holds the record as the longest serving employee in the 175 years of our Church, but also of the longest serving organist currently in post in the City of Aberdeen.
John's contribution to our worship and Church life has been incalculable. During our many pulpit vacancies and different ministries, John has been the constant factor, providing a sense of continuity and steadiness, instilling a feeling of reassurance to our members when everything else seemed to be uncertain and provisional. Music, because it communicates directly with the spirit, is an essential part of worship. It allows us to participate immediately in our own way. It opens a gateway into our inner selves. During the organ voluntaries for example, the music encourages us to abandon our present concerns and drift inwardly to a deeper place where we find our true selves, The hymns on the other hand allow us to participate with every one else, reinforcing our sense of cooperating in a communal event, strengthening our community feeling. For the past fifty years, this has been possible because John has quietly and unobtrusively, Sunday after Sunday, provided us with all this music. John also participates in many of our Congregational activities. He and his wife Audrey are enthusiastic members of the Terrace Scottish Country Dancers and of the Felix Walking Club and John plays in the Aberdeen Churches' Bowling League, though no longer as a member of the Unitarian team which quit the greens some time ago! John's contribution to Aberdeen Unitarian Church over the past fifty years is incalculable. In addition to his consistent musicianship, John has observed the highest professional standards. He has never let us down in all these years. He has been loyal, committed to every Service in which he has taken part, been supportive and helpful to every preacher he has worked with, and has taken the greatest interest in the well-being of the Congregation. He has been a very good friend to all of us. That there are regular weekly Services in our Church is due in no small measure to his dedication. We can never adequately express now grateful we feel towards John but I hope when we applaud his postlude, particularly his Bach and Mendelssohn at the end of a Service, he is aware our appreciation flows from warm and sincere gratitude for what he does on our behalf and from deepest regard and affection. |
