My Life Story
Early
Years
I was borne an only child in 1958 in
Stoke-on-Trent, the son of a pottery worker. My early
education was at two Church of England schools. My mother
was a devout Methodist, my father was of no particular
religious persuasion. I attended Methodist Sunday School
from a young age. My parents were most concerned that I
should do well at school and gave me much encouragement in
my studies. I always liked reading, and enjoyed my time at
school.
My family life was very happy: my parents
rather spoiled me. I knew that they regretted not being
younger, for my sake: I was born when my Mother was well
into her forties. I suppose I was something of an
unexpected afterthought. I was well loved, though whether
because of or in spite of this, I cannot say. We were a
very close family, but I was closer to my mother than my
father. Some of my fondest memories being of the two of us
strolling on a Summer's evening, after the Chapel service
which I would occasionally attend with her.
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High
School Years
I had quite a hostile view of the Anglican
Church in my youth. I was very conscious of my Methodist
identity even when I was ten or so. I disapproved of
primary school friends of mine agreeing to act as altar
servers at the weekly School Eucharists that were held in
the adjoining anglican Church! When I moved on to High
School I began to mix with people who clearly took their
Anglicanism seriously, and one friend in particular (David
Bickerton) brought me to realize that High Church
Anglicanism (the only variety which I had experience of)
wasn't so bad after all!
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My
mother died of a stroke when I was about fourteen. It was
not unexpected, as she had had a couple of heart attacks
previously. My father had just got back from the pub and
the three of us were sitting down with cups of tea in front
of the ten o'clock TV news. I noticed that my mother was
having difficulties lifting her cup and soon my father and
I realised that something was seriously wrong. We
called the doctor out. When he came - after a long delay -
he said that she'd had a minor stroke. He didn't bother to
call an ambulance! Anyhow, her condition got worse and
worse. Eventually, very late at night, I went to my room to
try and get some sleep, while my father kept watch over my
mother who was slowly dying before our eyes. When I got to
bed, I lay awake and prayed: "If I'm worth anything to
you at all, God: please don't let Mum die!"
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Almost immediately, I had a sense that a
voice had spoken to me inside my head, or as if a thought
had been inserted in my consciousness. This was "Whatever
happens, Stephen, I will always be with you." That was
all. It did not answer my prayer in the terms that I had
wanted, but it stood out from my general flow of
consciouness like a sore thumb. I have never experienced
anything positive like this ever again. Somehow, I don't
need to. The promise was so absolute and uncompromising
that it has always been enough for me to fall back on in
all my later troubles.
Later that night my mother was taken - much
too late for it to be any good at all - into hospital with
a massive untreated stroke. A day or so later, she was
dead. Her funeral was an incredible affair. She was so well
respected and loved in the neighbourhood that the Methodist
Chappel was packed to the doors with friends and neighbours
as well as the normal congregation. I found it surprisingly
easy to accept my mum's death, as I never doubted but that
she was in God's good hands. The only real sorrow I felt,
was as a result of my own untimely loss. Although I had
always taken Christianity fairly seriously, it was the jolt
of my Mother's death that elicited a personal response from
me.
 I
still remember walking into my C-of-E School Assembly one
morning thinking "right, well if you're going to be a
Christian, it's about time that you started taking it
seriously". I started to attend evening service at
Chapel regularly and did some teaching in Sunday School. I
resolved to become a member of the Methodist Church. I
discovered C.S. Lewis, and from that moment I have never
had any lasting doubts about God, Jesus and His care for
me. I took Old Testament Religious Studies at O-level, and
because of this developed a life-long interest in the
history and traditions of the Hebrew People .
My mother's death brought my Father and I
closer together. It was now more or less the two of us
against the world, and we either had to pull together or
sink.
At about this time, I came into the
possession of a strange little book called "The
Testament of Light". This is described by its compiler
as "an anthology of the religious spirit". More
accurately, I have come to realize, it is an anthology of
thinly camouflaged NeoPlatonism. It is from this anthology
that many of the quotes distributed through my Web-Site
have been abstracted. When I first acquired this book, I
did not realize the influence that it would have on me.
While it was having that influence, I did not recognize it.
I do not agree with all the sentiments expressed in it, and
certainly not with the self description it contains
"Religion without God". Nevertheless, in the last
few years have I realized that many of my attitudes can be
traced back to my first reading of this little book. It was
my first meeting with Plato, Whichcote, Glanville, Mill,
Blake, Chesterton, Julian of Norwich, Marcus Aurelius,
Nietzche and The Cloud of Unknowing.
It was about this time that I first came
into contact with Catholicism - though of a suspect variety
- in the writings of Teillard de Chardin. I read his two
books: the Hymn and Prayer of the Universe, and though I
found them obscure, I was impressed with their
spirituality. I particular the emphasis on the transcendent
in his Cosmology and Eucharistic devotion. As a Methodist,
I had received no instruction whatsoever as to the nature
of "The Lord's Supper": it was something that one
simply went through the motions of doing, without comment!
When I moved on to Sixth Form College, I
became very interested in the Ecumenical Movement. I
persisted in maintaining an involvement with the
Evangelical "Christian Society" that existed
there, even though the doctrine of the "Substitutionary
Atonement" was offensive to my sense of justice. At
this time my theological outlook could definitely be
characterized as "liberal". I continued to
develop my involvement with High Church Anglicanism.
The local Anglocatholic parish was on good terms with the
Methodist Chapel that I was then attending, and I enjoyed
attending Midnight Mass and the annual Corpus Christi
service. I also got into the habit of attending their eight
o'clock Communion service.
It was about this time that my Father
re-married. It was not a successful venture. I suppose that
I resented it to a degree: certainly my step-mother misled
my Father over a number of matters and begrudged any sign
of affection that he bestowed on me. These were very
unhappy years for me at home.
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Cambridge University
I
was fortunate to be accepted to read Physics at Trinity
College Cambridge in 1976. Apart from academic matters, my
first year was spent getting to know some of the people who
would remain my friends for the next quarter of a century
and "getting over" my first unrequited (and not
then properly recognized) love affair, with my then best
friend, Adrian Shingler. The picture below shows
Adrian (looking typically embarrassed!) with his mother and
their pet poodle.
From
early days, I knew and benefited from the perspective of
evangelical christians. While at Trinity, I played a full
part in the College "Christian Union" and also
CICCU: the "Cambridge Intercollegiate Christian
Union". I still remember my friends David Nussbaum and
Anthony Jacombe-Hood with particular affection. However, it
became increasingly obvious to me that the core of their
belief system (Lutheranism and/or Calvinism) was
misguided. In effect, with the best possible of
intentions I am sure, it made God into a vindictive and
arbitrary tyrant. I had been convinced that God was in fact
loving, kind, compassionate, just and reasonable from my
earliest memories, so I was entirely unable to empathize
with this point of view.
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It
was at Cambridge that I met my best friend, John (grinning,
with a beard); who has been a main-stay of my life ever
since.
My main involvement with other Christians
while at Cambridge was via the Methodist inspired
"Ecumenical Fellowship Group" movement. I took
part in three E.F.G. based missions, to Winterbourne (near
Bristol), Warrington (near Liverpool) and Theydon Bois
(near London). I was further exposed to Anglo Catholicism
in the person of the esoteric Allison Legge, who I briefly
encountered. It was at Cambridge that I first encountered
the beautiful Russian Orthodox liturgy. I also met the
controversial Dr John A.T. Robinson, who was Dean of
Trinity College Chapel and heard him preach on a number of
occasions. He always struck me as a good and kind man, and
pretty sensible in his views, if only one paid attention to
what he actually said rather than what others represented
him as saying.
I discovered J.H. Cardinal Newman, and the
Apostolic Fathers (Ignatious of Antioch, Clement of Rome)
and then the Fathers of the Fourth Century, Athanasius,
John Chrysostom, Leo, Cyril and Basil, and was received
into the Catholic Church by the Chaplain at Cambridge
University: Maurice Couve de Murville, who later became
Archbishop of Birmingham. I got somewhat involved with the
"charismatic movement" through Nick Lloyd. The
picture on the right shows me (the one without the beard)
with three Catholic friends at the Trinity College May
Ball. My first encounter with the Tridentine Mass took
place at Cambridge, when Mgr Gilbey (a previous chaplain)
celebrated it in the Chaplaincy Day Chapel.
From my first days as a Catholic , I have
always adopted a more "traditional " theology ,
liturgy and ecclesiology than is currently fashionable. It
has always been centrally important to me, as a Christian
who is also a Scientist , to focus on what is TRUE, rather
than approved or popular or convenient. As Jesus said: "For
this I came into the world, to bear witness to the truth."
On returning from a holiday in Rome, where
I'd gone with some University friends, I found that my
father had died and that my "mad Aunt Nancy" (my
Father's sister) had set light to the front bedroom of my
home! I coped, as always. My step mother did not attend the
funeral: she had just filed divorce papers!
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The Hirst Research Centre
For
about ten years I worked in the electronics industry,
working in Wembley North-West London at the G.E.C. "Hirst
Research Centre", at first on "Charge Coupled
Devices" and then "Semiconductor Device Physics".
During this period I served on the national committee of
the Latin Mass Society. I also considered the Apostolic
Ministry, both as an Oratorian and a secular priest, but
was rejected as "unsuitable". The late Cardinal
Hulme told me that I had a personality such that no-one
would be able to "live with" or "get on"
with me. The absurdity of this judgement is revealed by the
facts that I had been sharing a flat with one friend, Peter
Polkinghorne (an Anglican), for about four years at that
time and have now been living with a partner (a Catholic)
for over ten years. What the Cardinal meant was that I
wasn't sufficiently malleable of thought for his purposes.
A few years later Aunt Nancy died, and I
was left without any family to speak of except for my
Mother's elder sister, my Aunt May, of whom I was very
fond. She had in effect, become my mother substitute and
had provided a very necessary refuge from a home that was
often little better than a war zone. The next picture shows
me with my Aunt, at the door to her home in Fenton.
I
founded and played a leading part in running an
inter-denominational Christian Fellowship, "H.C.F."
at my place of work and made many friends there. It was a
wonderful experience to be able to discuss the varied
view-points of those who came along, to share our mutual
faith in Jesus and to cooperate in witnessing to the Gospel
in the place where we worked.
I still have fond memories of Stephen
Shepherd (secret squirrel), Graham Townsend, Keith
Verhayden, Katherine, Angella, Les Cooper, Fuschia, Paul
Doree and Derek Abbott. Many of the attitudes I now have
were forged at this time. In particular, I owe Derek a
great deal. He never gave up, trying to open my eyes to a
wider vista than my innate conservatism and puritanism was
wont to allow. I wonder if my attempts to impress on him
the importance of truth and tradition were anywhere nearly
so successful.
For a time, I was somewhat involved with
Opus Dei, a secretive Catholic organization much in favour
at the Vatican. I found one or two of their priests very
impressive in terms of their wisdom, orthodoxy, piety and
sensitivity. I went on pilgrimage to Rome with Opus Dei
twice (via a "front organization" UNIV). On the
second occasion I suppose that I almost lost my faith. This
is because I heard one of the Opus Dei priests almost
gleefully proclaiming at length to a little group of fans
that those folk who haven't had the chance to hear the
gospel can't possibly "be saved". When I
challenged him that the Church teaches that everyone
receives sufficient grace from God to be saved, he replied
along the lines that it all depends what you mean by
"sufficient". I was scandalized and suffered a
three day depression, wandering about Rome by myself in
abject misery. It seemed to me that I was a better, kinder
person than the "god" that this priest, whom I
respected, believed in. If he'd been just any old Catholic
priest, I'd have dismissed his words as typical nonsense,
but because I respected him as a member of an orthodox
organization, his words hit at the heart of my image of God
as Love. Eventually, I got over this and moreover he
apologized for speaking out of turn and ill advisedly; but
that was the end of my involvement with Opus Dei.
I've
also been involved with the "Faith" movement, a
strange group: quite orthodox (but eccentric in their
theology); rather obsessed with their founder's ill
conceived attempt at reconciling Catholic Theology with
Science; and fixated on a narrow minded application of the
Church's official teaching on sexual morality. As someone
who generally prefers to stand on the sidelines, rather
than conforming too closely to the norms of any group, I
eventually drifted away from this group. Its obsessions
were not mine, and in any case they were deeply suspicious
of the Traditional Liturgy.
It was at this time that I met Paul May (in
the white "Presto" RUSH tee-shirt), Simon
Robinson, Daniel Doll-Steinburg, Joel Crisp and Paul
Miller, through playing "Dungeons and Dragons".
It was at this time that my alter ego Pharsea was first
conceived: as a Lawful Good Cleric to compliment Paul
Miller's Chaotic Good Bard.
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Bristol University
Then
my Aunt May died, and I was made redundant. I moved to live
in Leigh-on-Sea, Southend so that I could work in Basildon
with STC, as it then was. After a year or so, I got fed up
with the job and decided to return to academic studies for
a while. I resigned, and with the encouragement of Paul
May, went to Bristol University, where I did a Ph.D. in
relativistic quantum mechanics and computational condensed
matter physics. I thought this would make me unemployable,
but in fact it helped me to get my next job!
During my first two years at Bristol, I
supervised a student residence: 121 Redland Rd. which is
featured in my next picture.
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Out of the Closet
Eventually,
this position became utterly impossible to support. This
was because I fell deeply in love with a young man, Paul J
Hammond, see next picture: he's wearing a red tee-shirt. I
met PJH while working, as a mature student, for my Ph.D. in
theoretical solid-state physics at Bristol University in
1990. We had met as Committee members of the newly formed
Heavy Metal and Rock Music Student Society, and I had been
privileged to have a role in drawing him towards a faith in
Jesus and His Church. He wrote to me a tearful letter so
full respect for my poor self (after I'd given him an stern
"ticking off" about a very minor lapse of
personal integrity), that my heart was quite overcome.
For another six months I successfully
fought against telling him of my feelings, comforting
myself that "Jesus must become greater for him, and I
must become less". In the end, I found that I simply
could not continue the pretence with any personal
integrity, and I told him. He was very good about the
matter, and though he told me that he had no romantic or
sexual feelings toward me he was more than willing to
remain close friends and to continue learning about God and
Jesus. The next few years were very difficult for me. I was
"held together" by a number of friends. In
particular, John Sackett and Paul Miller (see next picture,
he's wearing red shorts and grappling with a punt pole.)
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When
I was being instructed at Cambridge by Fr Maurice Coeve de
Murville, I remember blithely agreeing with him in passing
that homosexuality was some kind of unfortunate malaise. At
the time, I had a protestant girl-friend (who I'd got to
know during the E.F.G. mission to Warrington, near
Liverpool) and was somewhat in love with her. Over the
years it became more and more forcefully apparent to me,
that I was myself "not exactly heterosexual" and
that I had been pressured by society into playing out an
external role or "script" that had no truth in
it, but was a lie about myself. Still, as a traditionally
minded Catholic, I soldiered on; somehow finding it
possible to maintain a conviction that the Church's
official teachings on love, marriage, procreation and
sexuality were coherent. For years I was a vociferous
advocate of these matters in my social circle of mostly
protestant or non-believing friends.
One thing that helped me through my own
"coming to terms" with the truth about myself and
the Church's attitude to gay and lesbian people was the
fact that I had already experienced condemnation and
rejection by the hierarchy by virtue of my commitment to
unfashionable traditional theology and forms of worship.
Thank God, the first things that I found myself condemned
for were things that I chose to believe and adopt, for
reasons that I could easily defend intellectually, and for
which there was an enormous weight of evidence on my side!
The issue of sexuality is so much more difficult, because
it calls into question not what one thinks or does, but who
one is. It seems to me that it is difficult to judge which
group Rome detests and condemns the more: homosexuals or
adherents of the Old Latin Mass. As yet, no-one has been
excommunicated for being gay. For my sins, I am both!
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I
had decided that contemporary church authorities were not
generally to be trusted years before I found myself
directly and personally in the firing line. Even so, for a
few days I seriously played with the argument: "If I
am intrinsically evil, and if all that God created is good,
then I must be a child of Satan, so I should worship the
Devil!" Thank God that some good Christian friends
renewed within me the certainty of God's love for ALL that
He made, and that he made ALL things, visible and
invisible, and that ALL that he made is good. I lost many
friends at this time, mostly because they couldn't deal
with the emotional anguish that I was going through. Some
because they rejected my homosexuality. Some because they
thought associating with me would be bad for their
children. I was helped a lot during this period by friends
made through involvement with the Bristol branch of the
Lesbian and Gay Christian Movement, LGCM.
Then followed about four years of blood,
sweat and tears. Paul Hammond could be a stubborn fellow.
Most of my Christian friends, even Paul Miller, thought I
was wasting my time and energies and that he'd never have
the "bottle" to commit himself to Jesus. I never
believed this, though I always recognized his flaws. From
our first meetings, I had detected a core of gentleness and
decency in his heart that I believed would, given the
waterings of God's grace, flower into charity and justice.
We both behaved very badly towards each other in various
ways on various occasions. We both forgave each other our
failings. We also had some wonderfully happy times. I think
that often PJH found me quite frightening, because I was
able to challenge his comfortable certainties with the
radical wisdom of the Gospel. He once said that I could
argue such that anything I wanted to convince him of could
be made to seem to be right. Of course, this wasn't true!
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 At
the start of this same period, I met and settled down with
my long term partner David. The picture shows him in a red
polo shirt at the top of the Avon Gorge, near Bristol. The
centre of our life together is not sex, but abiding
friendship, practical commitment and personal loyalty in
times of trouble based on our shared adherence to Catholic
Christianity. Our relationship has survived me being made
redundant three times, and David's contracting lymphatic
cancer. "By their fruits shall ye know them".
David and I made a number of wonderful friends while in
Bristol, the next two photos shows some of them playing
"silly games" at a birthday party I hosted.
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Back
To Essex
When I graduated with a Ph.D.
from Bristol (I hope you like my wonderful doctoral robes),
David and I moved back to Leigh-on-Sea. The next picture
shows some Bristol friends visiting us there.
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I managed to get a job with Nortel in
Harlow, and David started a long and varied career with
what was then Midland Bank: it subsequently became H5BC and
then IPSL. We got quite involved in the local Catholic
church. I was on the parish council for a couple of years.
The priest was quite a dynamic and theologically orthodox
man, and I was keen to help him with some of his plans.
Unfortunately, he "went native" after a while and
seemed to shelve all his "new" ideas in favour of
maintaining the status quo. We (and other folk, including
the Chairman of the parish council) were quite
disillusioned by this. David and I got involved with the
local Essex group of LGCM, and so met George and Carol
Hopper. Their simple human kindness, sincere love of God
and natural practice of hospitality has helped to rekindle
in me some hope for humanity. "Ubi Caritas et Amor:
Deus ibi est."
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Eventually, after much prayer, cajoling,
and some emotional bullying on my part, Paul Hammond
eventually got his act together and decided to be received
into the Catholic Church in London. A few days before his
reception, I visited Paul at his flat in London. We were on
very good terms at this time, though that would change
within the month. I had brought him a box full of books of
spirituality and theology which were surplus to my
requirements. I said to him: "Paul, I want you to have
these, in case anything happens to me." My meaning was
that if at some point in the future he didn't have me to
ask questions of or advice from, at least he'd have a few
half-trustworthy books to turn to. At that moment, a great
shudder passed through my body: as if someone had walked
over my grave. I told Paul what I had felt and then our
conversation continued; for I had no idea at the time what
- if anything - this had meant.
Acting as Paul's sponsor a few day's later,
and offering him the physical embrace of spiritual
communion with the Catholic Church was one of the high
points of my life. I remember his father thanking me
for all that I'd done for Paul and expressing the wish that
I would continue to guide him.
Sadly, I knew the meaning of the "strange
turn" I had experinced shortly afterwards. We had a
row over the 'phone, only a day or so after he became a
Catholic. For years, I had felt that he had systematically
treated me badly, and whereas I had felt it was right to
"bear the burden" before he became a Christian,
once he had done so I determined that he should be made to
realize that "you don't mess people about in that way,
and certainly not a Christian brother." I mis-judged
this.
I made many attempts to patch up the
relationship, but from then until now I have never seen him
or spoken with him again. It was unacceptable to me
that we should remain at odds. This was for me a matter of
serious sin. I was willing to do anything within my power.
Paul was as dear to me as the son that I shall never have.
He was my friend.
Paul got involved with various groups of
"Conservative Catholics", went to Medugorje, "had
a vision there" and came to the conclusion that
homosexuality was evil, and that while he might "love
the sinner", he must "hate the sin" and so
have no association with me, but treat me as a tax
collector!
It broke my heart that it was his
membership of the Catholic Church (which I had battled the
world, the flesh and the devil to achieve) that became the
excuse for his repudiation of our friendship. It was only
my apostolic commitment, in friendship, towards Paul, that
forced me to admit the truth about myself. It was only that
non-negotiable commitment that I had towards him, as a
result of my love for him that brought him to faith in
Jesus. No one else would have persevered with him, or put
in the effort. They wouldn't have seen the point! I think
that one reason the Good Lord put me in this world was to
witness to that young man and win his heart for Heaven.
Without my homosexual orientation, none of
this would have been. Yet the Catholic Church condemns me
as intrinsically disordered, worthy of no civic rights and
a danger to the young. I do not think that Church leaders
begin to imagine the pain, desperation and anger that is
evoked in the heart of the gay and lesbian members of their
flocks who look to them for bread and receive only a stone;
for fish and receive a scorpion.
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Bristol again, then
Basingstoke
Then
in 1997 I was made redundant again. The next picture shows
David and I together at about this time. After a difficult
job search, I accepted employment back in Bristol, and
David and I moved back to our old haunts and friends there.
David easily got a transfer to an H5BC Service Delivery
Unit there. Then the next bomb-shell hit, he was diagnosed
with advanced lymphatic cancer! Then I was made redundant
again!
We muddled on. David responded well to the
chemotherapy, and didn't have too many side effects. We
went on pilgrimage to Lourdes. Paul Hammond wrote to me,
claiming to have received the charism of a healing
ministry: but refused to come and pray for David to be
healed when I begged him to do so. Eventually, I got
another job as a research Physicist, and we moved to
Basingstoke, Hampshire. David seems to be fully cured, but
only time will tell. He worked for a time in Camberley for
H5BC and then IPSL. The next picture shows our house in
Basingstoke.
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Paul Hammond wrote to me about this time.
He wrote to me asking how someone as "wise" as me
could "believe" what I do. I immediately started
to write the four articles that form the core of "Faithful
to the Truth". I sent these to both him and one of his
new "friends", Peter Hamilton: a Physics teacher
at a Catholic school. I have no reason to believe that
either of these ever read a word of my essays. After
promising to do so, Mr Hamilton in fact said that he
"couldn't be arsed" to do so!
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More Recent History
Carol
Hopper died after protracted treatment for ovarian Cancer
in the Summer of 2002. David and I were privileged to
attend her funeral in Basildon, Essex.
Paul Miller is now married, and lives in
the U.S.A. with his wife Candice. They feature in my next
picture. I'm glad to say Paul still owns and wears the red
shorts! He is now researching in the field of
neuroscience.
After a traumatic time training to be an FE
teacher at my local Sixth Form College, I took up
employment as an Electronics lecturer.
I resigned from my lecturing job in June
2006 and published my first book "New Skins for Old
Wine".
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Move
to Cheltenham
In June 2009 David and I ourselves moved
home to Cheltenham, in furtherance of David's career. It
was a hard thing to leave all the friends we had made in
Basingstoke and also the house and garden which we had made
our home, with all its - generally good - memories.
Our first six months in Cheltenham went
very well. We have made new friends and have made
significant improvements to the garden here. Our household
had a third member; as Henry, young man with mental health
issues joined us as a lodger. I had met Henry on a MySpace
philosophy group a couple of years earlier. We became close
friends and I was able to help him a lot with his
philosophical, psychological and spiritual development.
Unfortunately, everything went horribly
wrong just after Christmas and Henry left us. I don't know
what happened exactly, as he stopped talking to me while
whatever was going on inside him took shape. I felt that I
was going through a somewhat reduced version of the PJH
experience all over again. David was very
understanding and supportive throughout the process.
Click on the photo to visit the FaceBook
page for our house.
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Update [November 2015]
Over the last few years, we have had a
number of friends lodge with us: Luke, Paul, Matthew, Ben
and David.
I am somewhat involved in the poetry scene
in Cheltenham; though I find it very cliquy and full of
pretension. Although almost all of the people involved are
left-of-centre in their politics they tend to be only
concerned with self-promotion and are uninterested in
cooperating to help others to promote work.
Until Easter 2013 David and I regularly
attended the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church in Gloucester
and I went so far as to transfer my juresdiction and become
a full member of the Ukrainian Eparchy. Hence I ceased to
be a Roman Catholic, while remaining in full communion with
the See of Rome. A tragic series of events then occurred.
Our bilingual parish priest was recalled to London and
replaced with another man who spoke hardly any English.
When this happened a small group of forceful women took
over the running of the parish and made it quite clear that
I was not welcome in the parish, not being of Ukrainian
blood.
At this time, I had also gotten involved in
the founding of an English speaking UGCC parish in Cardiff,
working closely with Rev priest James Seimens, and had been
enrolled on a diaconate programme. Sadly, the RC archbishop
of Cardiff took a dislike to me - mostly, I believe,
because of my public postion on homosexuality - and put
pressure on Rev Seimens to remove me from all positions of
leadership in the parish. [This all started, however, with
a dispute regarding waste-bins!]
David and I regularly attend the
Traditional Roman-Rite Liturgy at Prinknash Abbey on
Saturdays, occasionally at St Gregory the Great in
Cheltenham dring the week and Sunday High Mass at the
Birmingham Oratory. As I am a devotee of John Henry Newman,
I very much like being able to pray regularly in his shrine
there; and to attend Divine Worship in the place where he
celebrated Mass and preached during most of his life as a
Catholic.
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Update [July 2017]
I was verbally abused and physically
assaulted at the end of (Gregorian Clendar) Holy Saturday
Liturgy in 2015 in St Mary Moorfields by Dr Shaw the
Chairman of the Latin Mass Society. He had recognised me
and took offense at me speaking to his son in Church. The
police issued him with a warning not to repeat this
behaviour, but I tend to keep away from places where I
expect him to be. Apart from anything else he allows his
children to misbehave in Mass, which is most disruptive,
and reacts very badly when anyone remonstrates with him
about this.
I had a minor heart-attack on (Julian)
Easter Sunday 2016 and had two stents fitted. I enjoyed my
week in hospital, being fussed over by nurses - especially
one particularly kind Muslim women.
I fell off my bicycle on the Monday of Holy
Week 2017 and - even though I was wearing a cycle helmet -
sustained a potentially serious head injury. This resulted
in me having to forfeit my driving license for six months
because of fears that I might develop epilepsy. I am
pleased to report that, I experienced no neurological
symptoms in the following three months.
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Update [May 2022]
David and I are still living in Cheltenham.
We survived Covid with neither of us being infected. We
regularly attend Mass at the Birmingham Oratory; but given
the impact of pope Francis, Masses at Prinknash and Gregory
the Great are no more.
I have reconnected with what little family
I have, back in Stoke-on-Trent. It was wonderful to meet my
cousins Marlene and Grenville after so many years. They are
the children of my father’s brother.
Karl Dutton (a very dear school-friend from
when I was 11-14 years old, and who was taken to Australia
by his mother) visited us, with his partner. It turns out
that he is gay too. It was wonderful to be able to talk
with Karl and hug him again after all these years apart. If
he hadn’t gone to Australia, I guess we would have
become life-partners.
David’s mother has died of Pancreatic
cancer.
I have become a fan of the PC-based Role
Playing Game “Skyrim”.
My Godson Philip has given up on
Christianity.
Paul Miller has become an atheist.
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That brings you up to date with my
"history". I am interested in lots of things.
Here's a list:
Physics
(especially Quantum Mechanics),
Philosophy
(especially Plato, Popper, J.S. Mill and Ayn Rand),
Theology
(especially Patristics, Ecumenism, Catholic-Jewish
relations and sexual ethics),
Traditional
Liturgy (especially the Old Latin (Tridentine) and the
Byzantine rite),
Politics (I
am a strong "Euro-sceptic"),
Music
(especially Heavy Rock: Rush, Dream Theatre, Led Zeppelin,
Black Sabbath, Alaska, Queensryche, Metallica, Ozzy
Osbourne, Rainbow, Magnum, Judas Priest, Helloween, Motley
Crue),
Fantasy
Role Playing Games (e.g. Dungeons and Dragons),
Gardening
(especially dahlias) and Pot Plants,
Personal
Finance (especially Investment Trusts),
Theatre
(especially Sophocles, Shakespeare, Marlowe and Stoppard),
Science
Fiction and Fantasy books (especially Tolkein, Aldis,
Asimov, Brin, Silverburg, Le Guin, Eddings, Donaldson,
Christian Jacq),
Cinema
(e.g. 2001, Torch Song Trilogy, Ordinary People, Time
Bandits, The Breakfast Club, E.T., My Beautiful
Launderette, Crossroads, The Lost Boys, Dances with
Wolves, The Shawshank Redemption, Bill & Ted,
Interview with the Vampire, Get Real, Eyes Wide Shut, The
Blair Witch Project, The Talented Mr Ripley, A.I., The
Village, Thirteen Days, Brokeback Mountain, Ender's Game).
I like
animals, but my only pets are gold fish.
I have a
collection of stuffed toys.
My
favourite TV includes Casualty, A Touch of Frost, Cavenagh
QC, Judge John Deed, Silent Witness, Keeping up
Appearances, Star Trek (in all its incarnations), Roswell,
Farscape, Babylon V, Extant, The Expanse, Dark Matter, Mr
Robot, Twelve Monkeys, Supernatural, Emerald City, Angel,
Jeremiah, Open All Hours, Porridge, One Foot in the Grave,
Yes Minister, My Family, Birds of a Feather, Absolutely
Fabulous, Justified, Burn Notice, Bates Motel, How to Get
Away with Murder, Monarch of the Glen, Will and Grace, and
`Ello `Ello.
David and I both love Scotland, and
have been on holiday there six times.
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