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john davies
notes from a small vicar
from a parish
in Liverpool, UK

    Thursday, December 09, 2004
    Truth in the New Piccadilly
    Truth is my neglected child
    So unembraceable
    For any length of time
    She's always wanting ....

    - Sidsel Endresen's voice weaving through Bugge Wesseltoft's minimal music - the soundtrack of my journey to London and back today.

    Those words... yes, Truth is a neglected child. But the thing is, you can't neglect a child like that for long; Truth seeks your attention; throws things at you to alert you to her presence. And anyway, you can't resist her for long - in her warmth and her insistence she's dangerously beautiful.

    After a good lunch hour with Oliver at Greenbelt HQ, an unexpected afternoon with another Greenbelt friend Martin, who I met in the long and contented queue at Apple's new Regent Street store.

    Over a couple of cuppas in the New Piccadilly we mulled over Truth - two rookie clergymen uncomfortable with the role, struggling with its many contradictions. It is difficult, embracing the truth about the submerging church we're in. Except the dangerously beautiful side of her, which is there still, when you look closely. And it's wierd, reflecting on who we are now, disturbed by those people who act oddly around clerical-collar-wearers, even some close to us. Wondering where our personal Truth now lives.

    Truth, the song, ends with the words: "I make my compromise..." Perhaps that's really all we can do with resistable, dangerous, beautiful truth. Meanwhile, both Martin and I made our compromises with the credit gods this afternoon, in that gorgeous new temple of computer consumerism. And me, I came home with a Powerbook G4....