Cathy Le Feuvre

Founders' Day - the beginnings of The Salvation Army

If you've never had July 2 noted in your calendar as an important date, then you're probably not involved in or associated with The Salvation Army, the global church and charity organisation.

You won't know, therefore, that July 2 is 'Founders' Day' ... the day in 1865 which is marked as the start of the Christian movement that (eventually) became The Salvation Army.

More than a decade ago I was privileged to have published my first book ... 'William and Catherine - the love story of the founders of The Salvation Army told through their letters' (Monarch Books 2013).

As the title indicates, it's the story of William and Catherine Booth, who between them started the Christian movement which today is in 134 countries across the world offering not just spiritual support through a network of churches (or 'corps' as they are known) but also hope and help for people who find themselves disadvantaged - those who are homeless, victims of modern slavery, those struggling with addiction, families needing support through foodbanks and the need for housing, support and fun for children and young people. And SO much more!

In my book I trace William and Catherine's love story, family life, and spiritual journey ... a journey which began way before the couple came to London, where The Salvation Army was founded, way before William was ordained into the Methodist Church, and Catherine herself took up a preaching ministry mostly to other women.

My book is a mixture of story-telling. There are excerpts from William and Catherine's personal letters, which are today held in the British Library in London, who kindly granted me permission to reproduce parts of some of the letters. There's a whole lot of 'history' which followed many many months of research on my part, the narrative which brings the story together. And then there are short 'stories' of my own making, based on information in Salvation Army history, and the Booths' letters.

These little 'glimpses' into life in Victorian England and into the lives of the Booths and the early Salvation Army may be described as 'immersive history' telling, and they were such fun to write as I tried to get under the skin of the times and the people with whom the Booths came into contact. I hope they really bring the couple and their times to life!

Chapter 13 of the book includes one of those little tales from that summer of 1865, when we know the Booths were settling into life in London, after years of living in lots of different places in England. We know also that it was midsummer of 1865 that William Booth preached outside the Blind Beggar pub in the poor East End of London. Not long after that, he was invited to preach as part of a wider Christian campaign and on July 2 1865 he preached in a tent on the Mile End Waste in the East End... not far from that pub.

THAT tent meeting is the occasion that Salvationists - members of The Salvation Army across the world - mark as the start of the Christian church and movement to which they belong. Which is why we are marking THAT day today! 

Please feel free to read about that day at the Blind Beggar pub ... from that chapter in my book.... and if this whets your appetite for more and you fancy reading the whole thing and even buying the book then you may click here.

Thanks so much!

Outside on the street a tall man with a thick dark beard mounted an old box.

Oh, not this again!

Couldn’t a man enjoy a couple of ales without having that noise outside? If the pub wasn’t so handy for home, he’d find somewhere else to sup. But the Blind Beggar was perfect, especially when he’d had a few too many – all he needed to do was stagger round the corner to the old woman who’d be there, as always, waiting to put him to bed.

The drinker rubbed the dirty window pane to peer out.
“George!” he shouted to the aleman behind the bar. “Can’t you get rid of ’em?”
“It’s a free world, Joe. So long as they don’t step over the doorstep we can’t do nuffink about ’em!”
“Shut the door!” someone yelled.
“Don’t you dare! It’s bloody boilin’ in here!” shouted barman George.

He was right, of course. Even this late in the day, it was still warm. Well it was midsummer, after all, and the inn reeked of sweat, stale beer, and the stench of the open sewer in the road outside.

Joe looked out of the window again. He’d lost count of the times his drinking had been interrupted by these religious fanatics. There seemed to be an endless stream of them, all spouting about God and how he needed “saving”.

Saving from what, that’s what he wanted to know. Who could save him from the misery of gruelling hard work and grinding poverty?

Maybe another pint might help. He searched his torn pocket. Just a penny left. Enough for one more, but then he’d go home empty-handed again and he’d get it in the neck from the old woman. He’d done that many a time before, even though it meant the kids went to bed with empty bellies. But a man had to have his fun, didn’t he? What with spending all day at the docks, hauling all those sacks of whatever it was they were loading the ships with. Maybe he’d just spend the ha’penny.

“Another half, George!” Joe approached the bar, where the crowd had thinned out a bit. A few of his mates had ambled outside and seemed to be listening to the tall man. A few were heckling from the door, but a couple had moved forward.

Just to get a bit of air, Joe took his half across the threshold into the street and stood there under the Blind Beggar sign.
“Not seen this one afore, Will!” he said to the man next to him.
“No – new, I think! Looks a bit fresh, doesn’t he?”

Not just fresh, but not posh either, Joe noted. He wasn’t dressed particularly sharply; his frock coat looked a little worse for wear. In fact, he appeared more frayed around the edges that the other missioners who usually turned up outside the pub. This one’s thick black hair was all over the place as he waved his arms around. He was sweating profusely and occasionally mopped his brow with a grey-looking kerchief. And what was that accent? He wasn’t from London, that was for sure.

Joe was intrigued. He found himself listening to this one as he hadn’t listened before. He was, of course, a religious nut, but he seemed to be a bit more normal than the rest.

“What’s ’is name, Will?”
“That’s right!” came the reply, followed by a hearty laugh.
“Don’t muck me about, mate! What’s ’is bloody name?”
“You said it! ’is name is Will! William Booth!”

                                                                   .....

In the summer of 1865 outside the Blind Beggar pub, William Booth was doing what came naturally, preaching to the unconverted in their own environment. Under a pub sign, risking ridicule and even some physical danger – it wasn’t unusual for street preachers to have things thrown at them by a heckling crowd – William was part of an evangelistic tradition that was growing rapidly in mid-nineteenth-century London. There were numerous chapels and small missions, many of them Methodist, across this part of town. By the 1850s there were around 144 charities at work in London, many of which were already mixing religion with practical works and good deeds.

William’s street preaching impressed a group of churchmen and evangelists known as the East London Special Services Committee. Among them were Mr R.C. Morgan and Mr Samuel Chase, the editors of The Revival, who, despite their misgivings over the preaching antics of the Revd Booth’s wife, were still determined to have William join them for their next evangelistic campaign.

The Special Committee didn’t come from or belong to one single denomination, and William Booth had already preached for them at the Garrick Theatre some years before. Now they wanted him for more radical work, and on 2 July 1865 – the date that is now noted in history as the “start” of The Salvation Army – William Booth stood to preach for them in a tent on the Mile End Waste, on the old Quaker Burial Ground in Whitechapel, East London.

Although the old tent blew down that autumn, there was no stopping the Booth mission. 

The East London Christian Revival Society was born and in the winter of 1865 it moved indoors. On Sundays the meetings were held in a local building – the Assembly Rooms on New Road, Whitechapel, otherwise known as Professor Orson’s Dancing Academy, its main function in the week. Even on the Sabbath the evangelists had to share their meeting hall with a photographer, and on weekdays the Booths and their expanding group of supporters rented other venues: an old chapel, a warehouse, a stable, a carpenter’s shop, a skittle alley.....

What happened next? 

By 1870 the 'Christian Revival Association' had been renamed 'The East London Christian Mission' and then simply 'The Christian Mission'. It was early in 1878 that publicity was issued with both the name 'Christian Mission' and 'Salvation Army' attached, but by May of that year the name 'Christian Mission' had been finally dropped and William and Catherine's Christian movement became ... 'The Salvation Army'.

The rest, as they say, is history!

Founders' Day - the beginnings of The Salvation Army

If you've never had July 2 noted in your calendar as an important date, then you're probably not involved in or associated with The Salvation Army, the global church and charity organisation.

You won't know, therefore, that July 2 is 'Founders' Day' ... the day in 1865 which is marked as the start of the Christian movement that (eventually) became The Salvation Army.

More than a decade ago I was privileged to have published my first book ... 'William and Catherine - the love story of the founders of The Salvation Army told through their letters' (Monarch Books 2013).

As the title indicates, it's the story of William and Catherine Booth, who between them started the Christian movement which today is in 134 countries across the world offering not just spiritual support through a network of churches (or 'corps' as they are known) but also hope and help for people who find themselves disadvantaged - those who are homeless, victims of modern slavery, those struggling with addiction, families needing support through foodbanks and the need for housing, support and fun for children and young people. And SO much more!

In my book I trace William and Catherine's love story, family life, and spiritual journey ... a journey which began way before the couple came to London, where The Salvation Army was founded, way before William was ordained into the Methodist Church, and Catherine herself took up a preaching ministry mostly to other women.

My book is a mixture of story-telling. There are excerpts from William and Catherine's personal letters, which are today held in the British Library in London, who kindly granted me permission to reproduce parts of some of the letters. There's a whole lot of 'history' which followed many many months of research on my part, the narrative which brings the story together. And then there are short 'stories' of my own making, based on information in Salvation Army history, and the Booths' letters.

These little 'glimpses' into life in Victorian England and into the lives of the Booths and the early Salvation Army may be described as 'immersive history' telling, and they were such fun to write as I tried to get under the skin of the times and the people with whom the Booths came into contact. I hope they really bring the couple and their times to life!

Chapter 13 of the book includes one of those little tales from that summer of 1865, when we know the Booths were settling into life in London, after years of living in lots of different places in England. We know also that it was midsummer of 1865 that William Booth preached outside the Blind Beggar pub in the poor East End of London. Not long after that, he was invited to preach as part of a wider Christian campaign and on July 2 1865 he preached in a tent on the Mile End Waste in the East End... not far from that pub.

THAT tent meeting is the occasion that Salvationists - members of The Salvation Army across the world - mark as the start of the Christian church and movement to which they belong. Which is why we are marking THAT day today! 

Please feel free to read about that day at the Blind Beggar pub ... from that chapter in my book.... and if this whets your appetite for more and you fancy reading the whole thing and even buying the book then you may click here.

Thanks so much!

Outside on the street a tall man with a thick dark beard mounted an old box.

Oh, not this again!

Couldn’t a man enjoy a couple of ales without having that noise outside? If the pub wasn’t so handy for home, he’d find somewhere else to sup. But the Blind Beggar was perfect, especially when he’d had a few too many – all he needed to do was stagger round the corner to the old woman who’d be there, as always, waiting to put him to bed.

The drinker rubbed the dirty window pane to peer out.
“George!” he shouted to the aleman behind the bar. “Can’t you get rid of ’em?”
“It’s a free world, Joe. So long as they don’t step over the doorstep we can’t do nuffink about ’em!”
“Shut the door!” someone yelled.
“Don’t you dare! It’s bloody boilin’ in here!” shouted barman George.

He was right, of course. Even this late in the day, it was still warm. Well it was midsummer, after all, and the inn reeked of sweat, stale beer, and the stench of the open sewer in the road outside.

Joe looked out of the window again. He’d lost count of the times his drinking had been interrupted by these religious fanatics. There seemed to be an endless stream of them, all spouting about God and how he needed “saving”.

Saving from what, that’s what he wanted to know. Who could save him from the misery of gruelling hard work and grinding poverty?

Maybe another pint might help. He searched his torn pocket. Just a penny left. Enough for one more, but then he’d go home empty-handed again and he’d get it in the neck from the old woman. He’d done that many a time before, even though it meant the kids went to bed with empty bellies. But a man had to have his fun, didn’t he? What with spending all day at the docks, hauling all those sacks of whatever it was they were loading the ships with. Maybe he’d just spend the ha’penny.

“Another half, George!” Joe approached the bar, where the crowd had thinned out a bit. A few of his mates had ambled outside and seemed to be listening to the tall man. A few were heckling from the door, but a couple had moved forward.

Just to get a bit of air, Joe took his half across the threshold into the street and stood there under the Blind Beggar sign.
“Not seen this one afore, Will!” he said to the man next to him.
“No – new, I think! Looks a bit fresh, doesn’t he?”

Not just fresh, but not posh either, Joe noted. He wasn’t dressed particularly sharply; his frock coat looked a little worse for wear. In fact, he appeared more frayed around the edges that the other missioners who usually turned up outside the pub. This one’s thick black hair was all over the place as he waved his arms around. He was sweating profusely and occasionally mopped his brow with a grey-looking kerchief. And what was that accent? He wasn’t from London, that was for sure.

Joe was intrigued. He found himself listening to this one as he hadn’t listened before. He was, of course, a religious nut, but he seemed to be a bit more normal than the rest.

“What’s ’is name, Will?”
“That’s right!” came the reply, followed by a hearty laugh.
“Don’t muck me about, mate! What’s ’is bloody name?”
“You said it! ’is name is Will! William Booth!”

                                                                   .....

In the summer of 1865 outside the Blind Beggar pub, William Booth was doing what came naturally, preaching to the unconverted in their own environment. Under a pub sign, risking ridicule and even some physical danger – it wasn’t unusual for street preachers to have things thrown at them by a heckling crowd – William was part of an evangelistic tradition that was growing rapidly in mid-nineteenth-century London. There were numerous chapels and small missions, many of them Methodist, across this part of town. By the 1850s there were around 144 charities at work in London, many of which were already mixing religion with practical works and good deeds.

William’s street preaching impressed a group of churchmen and evangelists known as the East London Special Services Committee. Among them were Mr R.C. Morgan and Mr Samuel Chase, the editors of The Revival, who, despite their misgivings over the preaching antics of the Revd Booth’s wife, were still determined to have William join them for their next evangelistic campaign.

The Special Committee didn’t come from or belong to one single denomination, and William Booth had already preached for them at the Garrick Theatre some years before. Now they wanted him for more radical work, and on 2 July 1865 – the date that is now noted in history as the “start” of The Salvation Army – William Booth stood to preach for them in a tent on the Mile End Waste, on the old Quaker Burial Ground in Whitechapel, East London.

Although the old tent blew down that autumn, there was no stopping the Booth mission. 

The East London Christian Revival Society was born and in the winter of 1865 it moved indoors. On Sundays the meetings were held in a local building – the Assembly Rooms on New Road, Whitechapel, otherwise known as Professor Orson’s Dancing Academy, its main function in the week. Even on the Sabbath the evangelists had to share their meeting hall with a photographer, and on weekdays the Booths and their expanding group of supporters rented other venues: an old chapel, a warehouse, a stable, a carpenter’s shop, a skittle alley.....

What happened next? 

By 1870 the 'Christian Revival Association' had been renamed 'The East London Christian Mission' and then simply 'The Christian Mission'. It was early in 1878 that publicity was issued with both the name 'Christian Mission' and 'Salvation Army' attached, but by May of that year the name 'Christian Mission' had been finally dropped and William and Catherine's Christian movement became ... 'The Salvation Army'.

The rest, as they say, is history!

I'm Not A Celebrity - Get Me Out of Here!

Remember back in the early days of the Coronavirus Pandemic when millions of us took a couple of minutes out at 8pm every Thursday to 'Clap for Carers'?

Well, that's what happened across the UK anyway, including here in the lovely island of Jersey in the Channel Islands!

We were clapping, whistling, playing musical instruments, banging saucepans and generally making a big noise to say 'thank you' to all the people who looking after us. All those 'caring' for us at the height of the pandemic when people were getting sick with Covid19, being hospitalised, even dying from this illness that struck the world so quickly at the start of 2020.

We were showing our gratitude to those who were keeping our world going, supporting us to allow most of us to stay home and stay safe. All the health professionals who were (and still are actually) at the front line, by the bedside, wrapped in PPE, on the wards and in the emergency services. All the public servants keeping our streets and roads clean and safe, our rubbish collected, our streets safely policed and our homes safe from fire and other dangers. All the volunteers manning the food banks which were desperately needed by those who were unable to work to support their families. All those driving our buses, keeping our stores stocked and those serving us in so many ways.

When we clapped on those Thursdays for more than two months, we understood that all these people were putting their own safety on the line to keep our worlds going, to ensure WE could stay safe. These were moving, magical moments!

We truly understood the value of people who, let's face it, in the past have just been in the background, rather unappreciated for what they bring to our communities.

For a while, we began to understand that THEY were and are the Heroes of our society without whom we could not survive.

For a few months, the obsession with Celebrity we have developed over the years faded somewhat into the background. Although so-called, often self-identified 'celebrities' pounded us with images, videos and comments on social media, attempting to keep their profile high (it is, after all, how they make a living, promoting themselves and it was perhaps difficult being a TV or sporting celebrity when there were no live sports and no new celebrity TV shows being made) it seemed as if, for a while at least, the world wasn't paying that much attention.

Despite their attempts at pushing their self-proclaimed importance, even when the world was in dire straits, for a bit lots of us seemed to realise just how unimportant these 'celebrities' are to the real world.

There were even suggestions and dreams that, going forward, maybe the world and the media in particular, would move away from the constant pandering to 'celebrities', the never ending celebrity-led TV shows, the shoving-in-our-faces of people who, generally, are rather overpaid for what they do and are, and often appear to have lost sight of the 'real world' where people can't afford posh holidays, designer clothes and footwear, plastic surgery and huge homes and shockingly expensive vehicles. Some of us hoped that we would begin to see a reduction in the promotion of the celebrity culture!

Some of us hoped that, as we came out of the pandemic, we would still remember the 'real heroes', stop obsessing about what we don't have in comparison to the celebrities who are promoted through our media and through their own social media platforms, and begin to just appreciate what we do have and those who really make our world a better place. Some of us hoped that the so-called 'celebrity culture' where we're all apparently encouraged to emulate the lives of people who invariably do little to enhance our world, would start to be seen for what it is - all silly nonsense! 

Some of us hoped that even if the 'celebrity' stuff came back onto our screens maybe people wouldn't watch it anymore, and wouldn't be sucked in to the old pre-pandemic world. 

Six months on from the start of the pandemic and I've just seen an advert on the TV. It's promoting something called 'Celebrity Karaoke Club', The strapline goes something like  'Who wouldn't want to see a bunch of celebrities twerking?' 

WELL - ME FOR ONE!!!

I can't actually think of anything worse that watching seven ... yes seven ... so-called 'celebrities', most of whom from the line up appear to be just famous for thinking they are famous, doing a sing-off and then criticising and making fun of the others. For six weeks! For me this is not 'entertainment'.  Neither are all the shows which are popping up again now featuring would be celebs - including dating and game shows and ridiculous staged managed reality 'real lives' programmes. 

Have we learned nothing from the pandemic? Have the media companies learned nothing? That actually we're not all 'buzzing for the latest fix of TOWIE!' and some of us would rather watch paint dry than watch rich, pampered individuals trying to outdo other celebrities, often not with any sort of kindness. 

It remains to be seen if these shows will be as popular. My fear is that because we're not generally offered much of an alternative, they may well get lots of viewers, even if most of us now realise how shallow it all is. Time will tell. 

I'm not a celebrity and I guess about 99.9% of the world's population are not celebrities so we're out of here.

We're back in the background. Many of us just living and trying to get by, and many millions still being complete heroes, not worrying about how their hair looks under their Personal Protective Equipment, and realising that when you're caring for a dying patient, or a family struggling to put food on the table because, after the 'furlough' schemes which have kept them paid during the worst of the pandemic is cancelled and their jobs are gone, after all ... it really doesn't matter if you are wearing a designer outfit, or have spent hours with a makeup artist ensuring your lashes are thick and long and your lips are plumped having being injected with something nasty to ensure you look like the celebrity next to you with similarly ridiculous pouty lips.

If we've learnt nothing from 2020, I for one hope it is that what matters is that we care for each, that we all go the extra mile to make our society and our world, a better and kinder place.  What matters is not what we look like, or how much money we have in the bank or the glamourous house we live in, or the number of social media followers. 

What matters is that we love! Not just ourselves, but others!

 

 

Life in the Time of Covid19*

It's been more than a month now since Jersey in the Channel Islands - it's a small British island which lies just off the coast of Normandy in France - went into 'Lockdown'.

It was Monday March 30th and after witnessing the spread of the coronavirus from the end of 2019 and watching what was going on in the UK which introduced social distancing and other rules on social gatherings on March 23rd, our government announced similar restrictions to prevent the spread of the disease.

Since the end of March many islanders have been 'self isolating' in our homes, especially if they are over 65 (which, if you're reading this in 2020... I'm not .. yet!) I'm working from home because, although I am not in any particular danger, I look after my Mum who turned 90 a couple of weeks ago. We have been allowed outdoors for 2 hours a day for shopping, trips for healthcare or exercise. But we've pretty much stayed indoors.

Lots of people have called this a 'strange' time!

It is! 

As a writer I kept saying to myself 'you really should be documenting all this!' Writing a diary? At least blogging? But somehow, in all the weird lethargy of the times, I haven't quite got around to it. I did start writing something on April 1st but didn't post it because … what I wrote felt like an APRIL FOOL! You could make it up!

And then, I asked myself a second question 'what actually have you got to say?' That's because I feel like my life at the moment is incredibly BORING! I look at social media posts and everyone is being so creative - making stuff, home schooling, using their 2 hours for spectacular excursions, whether they should be doing so or not - and in comparison … I'm doing nothing. Or that's what it feels like!

Now, however, as the pandemic continues to sweep across the globe and more and more people are infected, affected and die, I feel I need to write! I realise as time goes on that being intimidated by what others are saying they are doing on social media, is worthless. Whether we know it or not, even the smallest day to day elements of life during such a strange time are worth documenting. Aren't they?

SO here goes … 

I AM working from home.  I work for the BBC local radio station (BBC Radio Jersey) and they sent me home and set me up with a computer with all the links to programmes and editing facilities, on March 31st. And it's busy.

Here in Jersey we are working our way up to the 75th anniversary of the Liberation of our island on Saturday May 9th. If you're not aware, the Channel Islands were the only place in the British Isles that were invaded and occupied by the German Nazi regime during the Second World War. We celebrate the Liberation from our Occupation every year, but  Liberation75 was meant to be a fantastic public commemoration, with masses of events planned. That's all been cancelled due to this wretched virus, although much is now happening online.

At BBC Radio Jersey, we're still planning lots to mark the day, which follows the celebration of the 75th anniversary of VE Day in the UK on May 8th. And as Communities Journalist in Jersey I'm helping to gather stories, and I've been involved in some long running projects in the run up to May 9th. So I've had loads of editing to do!

It's very surreal though. My 'office' is my Mum's dining room. No outdoor window but a couple of lovely paintings on the wall of Jersey scenes, and surrounded by family photos on the piano and mantlepiece.

Although I try not to, I find myself sitting for hours at my computer, only getting up occasionally to enjoy a cuppa, have a 'comfort break',  receive socially distanced post which has been pushed through the letterbox by the safe postman, chatting to Mum and my brother, who is also socially isolated at home (he's a Personal Trainer and he can't work right now because gyms are shut) and very occasionally, walking around the garden to get a bit of fresh air.

I've realised that at work we normally do break up our day. We chat with colleagues, we go make some tea or coffee, occasionally I have to walk three floors downstairs to open the door to visitors when our receptionist is on a break, we have meetings. And I'm missing all that … even the annoying doorbells!

I've discovered that it's very easy to become disconnected with the work programme. I have found myself becoming a little paranoid from time to time that OTHERS think I'm doing nothing here at home and I'm just sitting here waiting for their instructions. At other times I've found myself thinking 'Well they can't be doing much there in the office because it feels like I'm doing everything!' 

Both emotions are, of course, ridiculous in the extreme. But it's one of the results of isolation and if it's affecting me, someone who is usually pretty upbeat, then it must be having really detrimental affects on others who are not so fortunate of myself. 

I can go for walks. I have been for a few over the past month and they've been glorious! They've been mostly on the beach near to my home, the stretch of sand from West Park in St Helier to First Tower in St Aubin's Bay, which is fabulous! I should go for more exercise but by the end of the day in front of the computer I'm exhausted! And the weekends seem to go so fast, with an early morning Saturday shopping trip which has got earlier and earlier to avoid the social distancing long queues and cooking and cleaning and washing, and, truth be told,  just sitting in front of the TV.

By the way I have 'social mediared' some walks which I realise means that I'm part of that online weirdness that makes others feel incomplete. It's a complex world we live in.

I have a garden. Must get round to clearing some weeds soon as the weather warms up a bit.

Less traffic in the roads outside the house means I can hear the birds more clearly. I'm sure they've always been there but often we've not been able to hear them often over the general hum and hubbub of modern life. 

Meanwhile, in our beautiful island, as of TODAY we have 292 cases of COVID19 confirmed, 199 people have recovered and sadly 24 people have died with links to coronavirus.

I'm a journalist, so you might also expect me to report today on the world statistics ...  as of right now, in the UK 186,599 people have been confirmed with the virus, up 4,339 in the past 24 hours. Deaths stand at 28,446, up 315 on yesterday. Yes that daily figure seems to be falling at the moment, and 1,918 people have recovered. Across the globe there have been 3,462,682 deaths linked to coronavirus, up more than 76,000 in the last 24 hours. People who have recovered is 1,110,719 and the numbers who have died stands at 244,911 (up nearly 5,500 on yesterday).

I say 'statistics', but of course each person represents a life, a family, relationships. Every life lost is a tragedy. And, of course, people aren't just dying of COVID19. I've lost a couple of friends and acquaintances during these past weeks, of different long term conditions, and one of the awful things is that because of the restrictions on gatherings, we can't give them the send off they deserve.

But, one of the great things about this time in our lives is that it seems it's given us a new appreciation of people who make our world work. The health professionals and care workers, shop workers, postmen and women, the people who empty our bins. SO many people who until we entered this strange time, were invisible, undervalued, underpaid. Every Thursday evening at 8pm here in Jersey and across the wider British Isles, we stand in our streets and Clap for the Carers, showing our appreciation of all those people who nurse us when we're ill care for us, keep food on the shelves, help us stay in touch with each other and generally keep our world ticking over.  

We don't clap for the overpaid sports personalities and reality TV stars, the celebrities who (still) populate our TV screens, making money out of this situation by being paid to give us endless insights into how they're coping with lockdown in their posh homes and mansions! We clap for those who live in tiny homes, struggling to pay their bills.

We don't clap for the people who take home six figure salaries in the finance industry. We clap for the people who barely scrape a living in life.

We clap for what we have termed in the past  'the little people'. They are not little anymore. They are saving lives, putting their own lives at risk just so we can be safe and stay safe. 

And I pray that when this is all over we will continue to value those for whom we clap on a Thursday. That they will be able to negotiate better pay and better conditions. And that our 21st century British obsession with nonsense like celebrities who are famous for simply being famous and which currently dominates much of our culture, will disappear

And so we come to this weekend. Yesterday (May 2) some of the restrictions on movement were slightly raised here in Jersey. Now we are allowed to go out for four hours a day. We're allowed to meet others (just two) outside our own households. And our 'time out' can be for any purpose, not just exercise and shopping. Our Health Minister has warned that the change could lead to more deaths, but the government are already talking about relaxing some of the rules on the way restaurants can operate, and more. 

Yesterday and today I ventured out (shopping anda  short walk) and I've already noticed many more people out and about. People gathering in larger groups, especially young people. Although the government still advises 'social distancing' (staying more than 2metres apart) I saw many people not doing so. I read social media posts from people delighted that 'the Lockdown is over!'

It is NOT! 

It's just now we have our medical ducks in a row and will be able to cope with the upsurge in cases of COVID 19. We've seen a temporary 'Nightingale Hospital' go up in record time on a field near St Helier, our main town. It will house sick people in isolated wards. Cost? £14m! But I fear that the cost in lives will be even more devastating as people relax, mingle more and spread the dreaded coronavirus.

So how am I feeling today - Sunday May 3rd? Well, a little fearful for our island and it's people, many of whom right now are living with false hope.

And as for me and mine? We will remain locked in, socially isolated, wearing masks and gloves to go out, practising social distancing for a long while yet. Even if we slowly go slightly mad with the isolation. I'm a person of Christian faith, so that sustains me and gives me the optimism I need. I believe in prayer so I pray. And I practice some deep breathing and positive praying/thinking when it all becomes too much and I start to get a little panic attack.

But most of all, I remind myself that this time WILL pass.

It won't last forever.

Will it?

*The title of this blog post nods in the direction of a brilliant book called 'Love in the Time of Cholera' which is a novel by the Colombian Nobel prize winning author Gabriel García Márquz  (Spanish: El amor en los tiempos del cólera) … if you haven't read it … please do!

A Wedding Anniversary

June 16th!

I don't know about you but I'm pretty intrigued by dates. For every day in the calendar there will be something interesting that will have happened on that date, sometime in history.

For instance, did you know that it was on this day in 1890 that a child called Arthur Stanley Jefferson was born in Lancashire in Northern England? He would grow up to be Stan Laurel, one of the greatest comic actors of all time, who with his partner Oliver Hardy appeared in over 100 films at a time when the movie business was just beginning.

Now, this is not a piece of information I was born with, or even learnt at school. No ... I looked up 'June 16th' on the internet and  got the information from one of the many websites that has this kind of stuff on it.  In this case it was On This Day.com

But something that's not on many, if any, sites is that this day - June 16th - is also an important one in the history of one of the global Christian movements, a church and charity organisation that today works with the disadvantaged and the marginalised in over 130 countries across the world - The Salvation Army

Because it was on this day - June 16th 1855 - that the founders of The Salvation Army, William Booth and Catherine Booth, were married at Stockwell Green Congregational Church in London. 

They had met a few years earlier, in 1852, at a tea party organised by a fellow Methodist who had taken William, who was a would-be preacher, under his wing. In the intervening years, William had travelled across the United Kingdom, preaching the Christian Good News as an itinerant independent evangelist but at last the couple found time in his busy schedule to be married. After a long struggle to find a church which would ordain him, the Methodist Church would become their home for a while. Then followed years when they both became known as touring independent preachers, until they finally found themselves back in London where, in 1865, they set up an organisation called The Christian Mission, which reached out to and shared the Christian message with some of the poorest communities in the British capital city.  

 In 1878 they changed their name to ' The Salvation Army' and soon the Christian movement would not just have centres and groups ('corps') in London, in England and the British Isles, but across the world.

From the day of their first meeting, during their long engagement and over the next 35 years of marriage William and Catherine wrote letters to each other and these letters are held today in the British Library in London. When I was asked by Lion Hudson Books to write a book to coincide with the 150th anniversary of The Salvation Army in 2015, I turned to these letters - hundreds of them - to build their story.

So - on this day - June 16th - I offer a short extract from that book  - 'William & Catherine' - the love story of the founders of The Salvation Army told through their letters.

This is my imagining of that day and a little of the narrative that follows in Chapter 7.

 

 

The sun emerged from behind the early summer clouds as Catherine and William stepped over the threshold of the Stockwell Green Congregational Church.

Catherine clutched her new husband’s hand, feeling small yet secure.

William looked down at Catherine’s sweet face and smiled. He could feel her shaking ever so slightly and a rush of protectiveness towards this woman overwhelmed him. He could hardly believe that, after all this time and so many obstacles, they were at last man and wife.

It had been a short and solemn service and blessing. Perfect.

Catherine had been pale and had spoken quietly, her voice quivering as she repeated her vows of love and obedience. In contrast, William had found that his voice, which he was accustomed to using to rather larger congregations, had rung loudly around the church. As his “I do!” echoed around the building it had provoked a little giggle from his beloved. Then, in the cavernous chapel, William and Catherine had knelt at the altar and pledged themselves to God and to each other.

Behind Catherine, William noticed that his father-in-law, John Mumford, and his sister Emma, the only witnesses to the solemn ceremony, were now exiting the building and squinting in the watery sunshine. For a moment he regretted the absence of the rest of his family. Of course, it was unlikely that Ann would attend, but he had hoped that his mother and her namesake, his sister Mary, all those miles away in Nottingham, might have been able to make it, even at such short notice. However, he and Catherine had been thrilled when Emma had sent word that they would be able to afford for her, at any rate, to attend. He knew Catherine’s day was also slightly saddened by the fact that her own mother had been disinclined to attend the ceremony, but, as he held Catherine’s little gloved hand in his, he felt a rush of love and appreciation for her commitment to him.

Catherine pulled her shawl closer around her neck and shoulders. She shivered again. Even with layers of petticoats under her skirts she still felt the chill of the day. Maybe she should, after all, have worn her coat. The few days of milder weather in May hadn’t lasted and it was still chilly, even for mid-June.

Catherine turned to the Revd David Thomas, who had so kindly agreed to preside over this most sacred of ceremonies.

“Mr Thomas, thank you!” she announced, grasping his hand and shaking it wholeheartedly. No simpering little handshake for this gentleman. She remembered their previous debates and discussions about the place of women in church and society, and she knew he would expect this forwardness from her, even on this day.

Father Mumford was calling from the street. The Stockwell New Chapel was tucked away from the main thoroughfare and he had a cab waiting. William, Catherine, and Emma took their leave of the minister and made their way to the horsedrawn vehicle. It was but a short drive back home to Russell Street in Brixton, where, regardless of her unwillingness to attend the actual service, William was sure that Mrs Mumford would be waiting with some light refreshments. Whatever her views on the marriage, and he still wasn’t quite sure of her, she loved her daughter unconditionally and would, he was sure, come around.

William reached out his hand to Catherine. She grasped it and he helped her into the carriage. Whatever the future held now, they were one. The Lord would determine their way, and, whatever happened, they would face it together.

When William Booth married Catherine Mumford, they intended it to be a simple occasion, and it was. In common with many weddings of the time, theirs was a quiet ceremony in church, held in the morning. After the ceremony the couple would have signed the parish register in the vestry, the bride signing her maiden name for the very last time.

As was common then, the venue was the bride’s choice. This had been the subject of some discussion over the weeks, but despite her previous falling-out with the Revd Thomas over the matter of women’s equality Catherine still greatly admired him, and despite the fact that she and William had rejected Congregationalism, she knew the Stockwell Chapel and it was quite near home. They had to marry in a local church and other options fell through, but the choice of venue may have been a reason why Mrs Mumford decided not to attend the marriage of her only daughter. Mrs Booth Snr’s absence, along with that of William’s youngest sister, was almost undoubtedly for financial reasons. They and Emma still only scraped a living in a haberdasher’s shop in Nottingham.

The wedding ceremony would have been followed by a small family celebration at home, perhaps with a specially made cake or perhaps not; perhaps in the company of a few friends, but maybe not. This was certainly a wedding on a shoestring budget.

Although William had earlier intimated that they would both have new outfits for the wedding, it’s likely that they had better things on which to spend their meagre resources and the extravagance of new clothes may have been one step too far. "Sunday best” would have sufficed.

For the rich and well-to-do, marriage down the centuries had often been seen as a way of cementing helpful and even political alliances, and for the upper classes weddings afforded an opportunity to display their wealth. However, wearing white was not common for brides until it was made popular by Queen Victoria. When she married Prince Albert in 1840, some fifteen years before William and Catherine’s wedding day, she opted for a white dress and, following the wide publicity of the day, this was copied by those who could afford expensive white fabric.

But even if Catherine Mumford had been romantically inclined to emulate her queen in this matter, her purse and that of her parents, who still appeared to stagger from one financial disaster to another, would have disallowed it.

Very few couples other than those with money could really afford a proper “honeymoon”, but William had yearned for one, and had planned to take his bride “overseas” for that short “getting to know you” holiday. The reality was a week on the Isle of Wight, staying with friends. The couple then moved on for a mission campaign in Guernsey, from where Catherine wrote to her parents reporting crowds of people flocking to hear her husband but “not so many cases of conversion” as William had expected and hoped for.

Their return boat trip included a short stopover at the nearby and larger Channel Island of Jersey, but the voyage home to England left Catherine violently ill. Very soon she was to discover that she was expecting their first child, but she remained determined to be with William whenever possible. She had waited this long for her husband and now she hoped not to be apart from him for any length of time.

Theirs was to be an itinerant life. On his wedding day, William Booth gave his “home” address as Ardwick, Manchester, where he had lodged during his evangelistic work. He had very lately been confirmed by the Methodist New Connexion Conference in the post of evangelist with an annual salary of £100 for the year plus his travelling expenses.

As he had proudly informed his fiancée just a few weeks before their marriage, “This, of course, is an advance of £30 or £40 on the young man’s salary.” He was to be employed directly by the Annual Conference rather than by any circuit, and this greatly pleased him and Catherine because it meant that he was not under the governance of local church leaders.

After Guernsey he already had invitations to visit (among other places) York and Chester. As always, finances occupied his mind. He reported to Catherine that he had had to pay £5 for his Beneficent Fund Subscription but he hoped to receive £6 for preaching in London, so he had it covered.

Although they had no permanent home to move into once the wedding and honeymoon were over, William hoped to continue with his evangelism while Catherine would continue to live with her parents and join him whenever possible.

 

Hope you've enjoyed reading this little extract from what was my first book. I've written a few more since then but am still so proud of this one!

If you want to find out more or even buy a copy please feel free to go to the 'Books' Page of my website - https://www.cathylefeuvre.com/pages/cathys-books.html - or to any of the online sale sites, especially the Lion Hudson site for this book.

Thanks so much!

Have a great day!

 

 

'William and Catherine' - book promotion continues!

 

At The Salvation Army Territorial (national) Congress held in Glasgow in Nov 2013 there were live webcasts of the three main 'meetings' or sessions, and wrapped around those were live programmes introducing themes for the weekend, including interviews of those taking part.
On Sunday morning (Nov 3) presenter Major Martin Hill interviewed me about my first book whose central characters are the founders of The Salvation Army - William  and Catherine Booth. I was at Congress signing copies of her book and talking to people about it!
'William and Catherine - the love story of the founders of The Salvation Army told through their letters' is published by Lion Hudson and is a Monarch book 
The letters of William and Catherine are held in trust for the Booth family at the British Library in London and for the book I edited the letters and included some other personal and public writings and memoirs of these remarkable people. I also included historical narrative and created short stories which further bring to life this passionate, spiritual and loving couple.

Corruption? Not me!

You’re in a long queue outside a night club in the rain. You know if you slip the bouncer at the door a fiver you’ll get in first and jump ahead of all the other poor souls freezing on the doorstep. What do you do?

You think corruption has nothing to do with you? Think again!

In the UK - a 'civilised' and 'developed' nation -   most of us think corruption happens somewhere else. It doesn’t affect us. That sort of greedy dealing only happens in ‘corrupt’ societies, doesn’t it?

Of course, few if any of us will be making secret deals with corrupt government officials to secure business contracts, or will have been involved in illegal price fixing, or will have deliberately evaded paying our taxes. But if we think that corruption is only something that happens in ‘developing countries’ by people who are somehow less moral than us, and not here in our more sophisticated culture, then we need to just look around and examine at our own behaviour.

If you give a backhander to that bouncer to jump the queue, you’ve effectively given him, or her, a bribe to gain an advantage for yourself over all the other would-be revellers who are still out in the cold on the doorstep. If, to make ends meet for your struggling business, you’ve offered a ‘gift’ to a contractor to get a better deal than your competitors, then you’ve been involved in a form of corruption. You may think it’s just ‘good business’ but it’s actually a form of bribery. 

WHAT IS 'CORRUPTION'?

It takes many forms – deliberate tax evasion, that blatant bribery, secret business deals, abuse of power by people in government, business and even the church –and where there is corruption, it is the poorest of the poor who are worst affected. Corruption is one of the main causes of poverty in the world today! 

This week the EXPOSED campaign is 'Shining a Light' on Corruption but over the past year I've been privileged to work with the very small, inspiring and dedicated EXPOSED team who work tirelessly to make a difference on behalf of the world's poor. 

 

The EXPOSED team based in Salvation Army Territorial HQ in London got hold of a US$1 trillion note! That's how much goes missing in bribes each year. EXPOSED is asking the world's powerful leaders to step up efforts to combat bribery and tax avoidance.

EXPOSED is an international coalition of Christian organisations that is challenging the global church, business and governments to highlight the impact of corruption on the poorest of the poor. It represents millions of people who have already caught the vision of what a world without corruption could look like.

Since EXPOSED was launched last year, thousands of people have become involved and the message has now reached 150 countries.  Across the world EXPOSED hopes to reach 100 million people – Christian people, people of other faith and of no faith -  to encourage them to speak out against corruption in all areas of public life. People are being encouraged to set up ‘bribe boxes’ in their churches to declare bribery in their communities, to write to church leaders, business leaders and politicians to take action to resist and fight corruption in their nations, and to promote increased integrity and ethics in business. The stories emerging are just amazing!

EXPOSED is challenging governments to tighten up on financial regulations to ensure that taxes are paid in the nations where the profits are earned and to introduce policies which create fairer societies. When taxes are not declared, then it those already living in poverty who suffer most - lost income can't be spent on services which benefit the society, ensure good healthcare and education.

SHINING A LIGHT ON CORRUPTION

Duringthis EXPOSED Week of Action (October 14-20) up to 2000 Vigils are being held around the world encouraging people to consider the impact of corruption on the poor.

It all kicked off here in the UK on Monday night at St Paul's Cathedral in London and I was privileged to be present. There was music and prayers and inspiring words as we were among the first across the world to 'Shine a Light on Corruption'. Since then, people have been holding similar vigils worldwide. And hopefully government, business and church leaders, as well as the media and the general population will have started to become more aware of the scourge that is corruption and the terrible effects on the poorest of the poor and the duty we all have to get involved to see it end!

I'M 'ONE IN A MILLION'

This week there is also a major push on collecting signatures for the EXPOSED Global Call to End Corruption. EXPOSED is aiming for 1million signatures on this petition which presses for more open tax regimes and greater transparency in payments to combat bribery and tax avoidance. This Global Call will be presented to world leaders at the G20 Summit to be held in Brisbane Australia in November 2014.

I've already become 'One in a Million' by signing the Global Call to End Corruption. Please add your signature and name on the EXPOSED website 

The EXPOSED campaign and our action at every level is vital important if we are to start to see some real justice in our world, fairer division of the world's resources, and the end of  greed and corruption. 

You might not think Corruption has got anything to do with you. But I encourage you to think outside your own circumstances, and to stand with the poor, and with the EXPOSED campaign!

(Some parts of this article also appear in an article I've written for this week's WarCry, the publication of The Salvation Army UK and Ireland.)

Poor Role Models in our Sad British Culture

So, BBC television's latest series of The Apprentice UK has finally ground to it's conclusion.

The entrepreneur and businessman Lord Alan Sugar has chosen his newest 'partner' who will get a QUARTER OF A MILLION POUNDS (that's £250,000) to set up a new business.

For those of us interested in the cause of women, and the promotion of intelligent, enterprising individuals of the 'fairer sex', there was good news because both finalists were female....Luisa Zissman and Leah Totton.

But that, I'm afraid, is where the rejoicing ended.

Both the 'L's' reckoned their proposed business ventures were keying into current 'trends' in society...which when you read their business ideas, says something rather sad about our British culture.

Luisa, an already successful businesswoman, proposed a new baking/cupcake franchise. A little obvious and cliched but, I would argue, fairly harmless. 

Leah, or to give her real title, DOCTOR Leah, was advocating something substantially more sinister and suspect - a chain of non-surgical cosmetic clinics and associated skin care products.

I have to admit I watched the semi finals and was convinced that Luisa would take the Apprentice Crown. Not because I particularly thought that the world needed another cupcake business, but because I really did not think that the usually rather sensible Alan Sugar would go anywhere near the cosmetic surgery business.

I WAS WRONG!

'Doctor Leah' won!

First I was incredulous. Then a little angry. And now I'm just sad.

It's an real testament to our shallow, appearance-obsessed British culture and society that Lord Sugar is willing to invest such a large sum of money into an 'industry' (Dr Leah's own words) which perpetuates the myth that 'beauty' can be bought and, more importantly, that to make it in the world, one really needs to be 'beautiful'. Her clinics will also allegedly provide 'anti-ageing' treatments such as botox injections. SO not only do you have to be beautiful, but it's also better to be young or at least pretend to be/look young.

Now,  I understand that not everyone in the plastic/cosmetic surgery industry is just in it for the money...I have met and know people who have benefited from essential cosmetic surgery following accidents and disfigurement, illness and disability. But I fear that it will not be these people who Dr Leah will be targeting.

Hers will be the sort of clinics where people (probably women, more probably young women) will walk in to request things to be filled,  lifted and smoothed over simply in order to 'look good' and because they can afford it. Or maybe not.  While I'm sure a few may well need some treatments for conditions like severe acne and other skin conditions, which can be destructive for self confidence, most likely Dr Leah's 'clients' will be those simply requiring to 'look more beautiful'.

My main problem with Sir Alan's choice is what this says about our sad British culture.

You'll have more a chance in life if you are 'beautiful'? If you're not 'beautiful' perhaps you should just  forget being successful and happy?  That beauty comes before brains, or that brains ideally should be accompanied by beauty? During The Apprentice, Dr Leah herself admitted on several occasions that her own appearance is very important to her, even though as a qualified doctor, she obviously has intelligence. Luisa and Leah both played on their 'sexiness' and 'beauty' to promote themselves throughout the series. Unfortunately, it appears to have worked.

While I'm all for people making the best of themselves, presenting their smartest face to the world, even making improvements in their appearance (that, after all, is why we visit the hairdressers, wear makeup, like nice clothes etc) Dr Leah's 'success' in The Apprentice sends out all the wrong messages.

If I had a chance to speak to Leah myself I would say something very simple. Please remember that 'beauty' is in the eye of the beholder. We don't all have to be plumped lipped, false boobed, voluminously haired, perfectly whitened teethed, nipped and tucked, skinny would-be clones of some weird Footballer Wife, staggering treacherously through our shallow little lives on eight inch heels, to be part of the human race. Older people make huge contributions to society every moment of the day and growing old should not be a disgraceful prospect.

Leah, of course, witters on, insisting that HER clinics will be driven by ethical and moralistic conduct, and regulation on use of drugs/procedures will be strictly adherred to. She insists that she'll magnanimosly turn down potential clients if she (or her staff) think they really don't need or won't benefit from a 'treatment'.

I'm sorry. I just don't buy it.

Dr Leah's clinics will be profit making businesses and when it comes to the bottom line, cash will be king. If someone is willing to hand over thousands of pounds for a procedure, are you REALLY telling me that Dr Leah will not be tempted to take it to pay for what is likely to be her ever increasingly glamourous and costly lifestyle?

But Dr Leah's 'success' in The Apprentice is even more worrying for a couple of other reasons.

The girl is only 24 yet she's already setting herself up as an 'expert' in the cosmetic surgery/health field.

She apparently only qualified as a doctor in summer 2012.  That's just ONE YEAR AGO!

She's working in the National Health Service but according to news reports has still found time to privately also train in cosmetic surgery for two years. Today, leading doctors in the plastic surgery business have condemned Dr Leah's plans, explaining that most professionals train for at least eight or nine years before opening private clinics.

Would YOU take advice from a doctor who's got such limited experience, but who wants to fill your face with botox? Or, more importantly, wants to get her senior nurse practictioner to fill your face with botox? At one point in the selection procedure Leah admitted that although she, the doctor, would be in charge of the enterprise, her clinics would be manned by nurses, not doctors. She insists she'll still be off continuing with her 'research', so presumably when you enter a 'Dr Leah Clinic' for a quick lunchtime treatment, Dr Leah won't be wielding the big syringe!

But give the girl credit, she is, at least, a qualified doctor. And this is my second problem with her success on The Apprentice. She herself boasted that she's spent 7 years being trained, training which presumably has been paid for by the National Health Service and therefore, by us...the British taxpayers. Yet now, no sooner than she's taken advantage of us for years of costly training,  she's off into 'private practice' presumably to make loads of money!

Finally, and sadly, Leah could have become such a role model.  She impressed the judges, including Lord Sugar, with her intelligence and businesslike approach to life and as a doctor she could have become such a great example, especially for other young women. Who knows, she might have aspired to be a groundbreaking brain or heart surgeon, a 'real' doctor, a saver of lives in our cash-starved National Health Service.  Now though, she's chosen, in my opinion, to squander any real potential for lifelong good with a 'career' which ultimately relies on the insecurity of women and peddles the lie that if you've got enough money you can make yourself 'beautiful', ergo successful and important.

This morning I listened to BBC Woman's Hour and heard a really fabulous interview about a new 'popstar' - one Catherine Bennett aka 'live artist' Bryony Kimmings. Catherine is the creation of Bryony's 9-year-old niece, Taylor, who is now her 'manager'. She's the result of Taylor's wish to have a role model who isn't just a clone of someone else's view of what is beautiful and talented, and her songs not just a perpetuation of the sexualised and commercialised music targeted at and influencing the 'tweens' of which Taylor is one.

Catherine is a part time singer. In real life she works  in a museum and is a paleontologist - she investigates dinosaurs! She's backed by leading music producers and the Arts Council, and is 'likeable superstar' who wears glasses and 'normal' clothes and sings a sort of euro pop which avoids references to sex, money and love. In her debut song 'Apathy' now posted on YouTube, she encourages young people to get involved in social issues.

Young Taylor has fortunately already recognised the lie that is the world into which Dr Leah has already been sucked and would wish to suck others. A false world where, it seems, appearance and 'beauty' rules above integrity, intelligence and common sense. Taylor said she wants to be a midwife when she 'grows up', to help bring new life into the world. That's amazing!

I don't wish Leah ill but I truly hope that the public, especially those already vulnerable about their appearance, won't be taken in by her hype.  But she's already got a PR Agent and undoubtedly she'll put herself on the celebrity circuit, sell lots of stories to the media, be seen at all the celebrity events, where she will rub shoulders with all the insecure individuals who will just love to become one of her victims and pay her handsomely for the right to be plucked, lifted and enhanced to within an inch of their lives.

That is - provided she gets a licence to operate. She's pledged to be driven by regulation so presumably will be expecting to be operating legitimately and within strict guidelines. Given some of the adverse comments coming out of the plastic surgery industry today I just wonder if she will be considered experienced enough to have a licence to open. 

But that, dear reader, is another story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Celebrating Founders' Day

On July 2 1865 a tall dishevelled man with dark unruly hair and a hooked nose stood up to speak in a tent on the Mile End Waste in Whitechapel in East London. 

The tent was rather decrepit, and the crowd mostly represented everything that 'polite' society at the time would have abhorred - drunkards, street women, ruffians, people from the very poorest levels of society who all hoarded into the tent to listen to the guest speaker for the evening. The sight, and the smell of the crowd on that warm July evening must have been overwhelming!

But Rev William Booth, for it was he who stood in front of the crowd, felt immediately at home among these people. He hadn't grown up in the lap of luxury but had worked in a pawnbrokers shop from the age of 13. As a young Christian who desperately wanted to be an evangelist, he had been turned away or fallen out with several churches and congregations and had finally steered his own course and had travelled the country preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the 'whosoever'. He and his wife Catherine, herself a talented speaker and writer, in setting up their own Christian ministry, had not opted for the luxurious option. They often found themselves penniless, raising eight little children and relying on the good nature of friends and family members for support. They lived on faith.

Yes, William and Catherine Booth knew what it felt like to be excluded from society, unloved by the majority and living on the very edge of financial disaster.

Yet when William stood up in that tent on the old Quaker Burial Ground, the guest of the East London Special Services Committee who had organised the evangelistic mission, it was the start of something which would eventually result in a worldwide Christian organisation which today spans the globe, and reaches out to millions of needy and disadvantaged people every day.

From the humble beginnings of a tent in the East End of London grew William and Catherine's own outreach and mission to the community where they found themselves - the East London Christian Mission, later to be known simply as The Christian Mission. Although the central focus of the Booth's organisation was always to see people's lives transformed by the love of God, eventually the Christian Mission developed into more than a 'preaching ministry' and into a practical mission, offering support and assistance - food, clothing, shelter, jobs - to those who found themselves at the bottom of the social pile. However, in the process, God also used the Booth's ministry to reach people from all levels of society, transforming millions of lives not just spritiually but practically.

It wasn't until 1878 that the Christian Mission was renamed The Salvation Army, but it is July 2 which is celebrated and marked every year as 'Founders' Day' - the 'start' of the ministry which grew into The Salvation Army.

Although we are nearly 150 years on from that tent on the Mile End Waste, the need of society is still great. People are still struggling to survive, struggling to make ends meet, battling addiction, finding themselves in situations from which it is difficult to exit. 'Polite' society still often looks down on those who they perceive to be weak, people remain voiceless and powerless. And The Salvation Army is still there - to help, to support, to bring the love of God into lives without love. Not necessarily offering a 'hand out' but invariably a 'hand up' - to help people help themselves out of their situations. More importantly, the spiritual needs are still great. People still have a need for the transforming love of Jesus Christ, no matter their social or economic status in the world today.

As William Booth stood preaching on that warm July evening in a tent on an old burial ground, he  could not have foreseen what would come. But, undoubtedly, he trusted God for the future.

Perhaps THAT is the overriding message of Founders' Day - Trust God, he knows the future!

My book William and Catherine - their love story told through their letters is published in Autumn 2013 by Monarch Books.

Read more here. To pre- order from Amazon click here

 

Facebook Gambling Alert

If you are a user of Facebook, some of you (especially here in the UK) will have noticed recently that us FBrs are now having our timelines flooded with advertisements for gambling - slots, casinos and all sorts of gambling 'games' including 'online gambling' which encourages people to gamble at home.

These ads are often pretty and colourful  - one even has the name 'Candy Shop Slots' - and they could be very enticing. Many offer the first 'play' free and similar financial enducements....a very typical marketing ploy from the gambling companies wanting to lure in new players!

 

The Background
Last August, Facebook changed it's 'rules' on running gambling ads. It means that now FB accepts ads from gambling companies, for promotion of both 'offline' and 'online' gambling ie for casinos you can visit personally and for games you can play at home on your computer, presumably using your credit card and with little or no controls over the amount of time/money you spend! 

The most interesting thing to note is that some ads for online gambling are illegal in some parts of the world (eg USA) but here in the UK the gambling industry is free to advertise with seemingly little regulation. And the gambling companies are already being actively encouraged to target those of us unfortunate to be in their sights, as you'll see if you get to the end of this article!

The advertisement are apparently only being put on the timelines of us 'adults' but parents may want to check from time to time that their kids are not receiving them and not being sucked into what can be a very dangerous and addictive 'habit'. This is a matter of child protection!

 

I am aware that organisations like FB need to make money, but this departure is just too cynical for words. Surely there has to be a more responsible way of maximising profits other than acting as agents for an (gambling) industry whose sole aim is to part people from their hard earned cash, an industry which relies on people developing and sustaining an addiction.  Facebook wouldn't be allowed to promote the sale of alcohol, cigarettes or drugs....but it is facilitating the growth of another very serious addiction. Gambling, we know, is usually viewed as a 'bit of fun' but unfortunately it can also lead to debt, family breakdown, crime and even suicide when people find that their gambling addiction is out of control! 

Blocking / Hiding / Reporting Facebook Gambling Ads

Facebook doesn't allow us to block ads from our FB timelines but we can hide them by clicking on the little x on the top right of the ads and then reporting them. I have been checking the 'Against my views' or Offensive' boxes. If I keep getting the ads, I might even tick the 'Sexually Explict' box just to see if that stops FB from posting these ads on my pages!

I have also reported the ads to Facebook explaining that I think FB's decision to allow gambling ads is very dodgy. To report ...go to the 'help' section (find that on the little wheel top right hand of your page). Put in the words 'report ads' in the search box and then click on 'how can I report an ad I see on Facebook'. Read the blurb and find the link to the report page and follow the instructions. Note of caution...it involves taking a screenshot of your FB page showing the gambling ads you want to report!

 

Just pawns in a game
If you are still unconvinced about the whole FB Gambling issue and the dangers therein, you might like to check out the following website:

Facebook Changes Policies On Gambling Advertisements | Casino Affiliate Programs

What you will see on this site is advice to the gambling industry itself on how they can take advantage of the new relaxed Facebook rules.  You might like to check out what they think about us FBrs...we are ideal 'target customers' and FB is a great way for them to market their casinos, bingo, slots and paid for games! They obviously see Facebook as a partner and they undoubtedly think we're suckers!

Excerpt from Casino Affiliates Programs:
'More people spend their time on Facebook than any other website in the world. Facebook can help casinos target their ads to their demographic. Their audience tends to have an income of about $50,000 a year, have at least some college education and live in the north central part of the country. Don’t you want to get the attention of your target customers? Facebook ads could be the best marketing strategy available to you....

This decision will only affect you if you intend to target gamblers outside the US or countries where Facebook will allow ads.'

 

Facebook is a fantastic and trusted social medium, helping family and friends stay in touch and bringing people together across the miles. It started out with such great intentions but unfortunately it appears to be losing its way. It's a shame. It's a real shame!