Tag: principles

It would have been easier if I’d been drunk

A young couple asked me, their minister, to conduct their wedding. “Delighted!” I replied. They added, “It will take place in Shetland,” apparently because the bride came from there. But that was no problem. Shetland is a long way north, but an easy flight from my base in Aberdeen.[1]

So, in mid summer I flew to the furthest place north of mainland Scotland where some of the 100 islands in the Shetland archipelago are closer to Norway than to major cities in the south. That far north, summer days are long and nights have very little darkness.[2] I had time to explore. Since then I have visited dozens of other countries, but Shetland is still the most awesomely beautiful place I have ever seen.[3]

The wedding service went well, after which the couple stood in warm sunshine for photographs and to greet their guests. Then came the reception, with plenty to eat and to drink. It was a great time.

I had a flight to catch back to Aberdeen that evening. But, just before I started on the 25 mile journey south from Lerwick to Sumburgh airport, I heard that a thick sea mist meant all flights were cancelled. Not to worry, because the airline had booked all passengers on the overnight sea ferry from Lerwick which would arrive in Aberdeen at breakfast time. ‘That will be fine,’ I thought.

It was very far from fine. The problem wasn’t the cabin, which I would be sharing with a Christian friend who’d also attended the wedding, and with two oil-rig workers going on leave. Nor was the problem lack of food on board, especially since I’d eaten well earlier and wasn’t hungry. And the oil workers weren’t the problem; they disappeared for hours to the bar.

The problem was everything to do with the ferry journey. Once out of the harbour and into the North Sea, the ship pitched up and down as strong waves lifted and dropped the vessel. My stomach began to heave in sync with those waves. Then the ferry got far enough south to escape the shelter of Shetland, and waves from the Atlantic competed with waves from the North Sea. The ship’s up/down movement was matched by an all around movement in my inner parts. I could not have been more miserable. Lying flat on my bunk was the worst so I went to the middle of the ferry where people were stretched out on seats and the floor. Apparently, so the gift shop assistant told me, they did that because the central area pitched less than the bow or stern. Maybe it did ‘less’ but still a lot. “Never mind,” the assistant tried to comfort me, “trawlermen also get sick on the ferry because it doesn’t pitch enough.” I was not comforted.

Back in my cabin, and foolishly lying down again, my stomach churned. Suddenly I knew I was about to bring up my delightful wedding reception meal. I rushed to the small ensuite bathroom, but the door was locked. My Christian friend was emptying everything he’d eaten that day. Now desperate, I ran into the corridor where there were toilets for passengers without ensuite facilities. I saw the word ‘toilet’, went straight in, and was sick on an almighty scale into a sink. Only after I got back to my cabin did I realise I hadn’t checked whether I’d entered the toilet for men or the toilet for women.

The rest of that night I lay sleepless on my bunk except when I was being sick. Around 1.30 in the morning, the two oil workers returned from the bar. Both were clearly very drunk. So drunk, they collapsed on their bunks, immediately fell asleep and stayed asleep until the ship docked in Aberdeen harbour. The oil men that morning were bright and cheery. I was not. Alison met me from the ferry, and said she’d never seen me look so ill. All I could reply was, “It would have been easier if I’d been drunk”.

I didn’t actually wish I’d been drunk, but I couldn’t escape the thought that my non-drinking friend and I had no reward for our righteousness. The oil men had a peaceful night. Our night was a horror story. It didn’t seem fair.

The hard truth is that doing what’s right doesn’t guarantee an easier life.

The writer of Psalm 73 in the Bible didn’t hesitate to complain to God that the wicked “have no struggles; their bodies are healthy and strong.They are free from common human burdens; they are not plagued by human ills” (vs. 4-5). While he has kept his heart pure, the wicked have amassed great wealth (vs. 12-13). Later in his psalm, he does recognise that the final destiny of the wicked will be ruinous, but his earlier words are comfortingly honest, that those who live to please themselves may have an easy life, with none of the sacrifices faced by those who try to do what’s right.

So, let’s recognise a few realities.

First, this world often seems unfair. People cheat – such as some students at school or university with assignments or exams – and too many are not found out. Applicants for top jobs submit their résumé or CV (curriculum vitae) claiming qualifications they have never earned. Mistakes at work are covered up. Tax claims are falsified or earnings hidden. The owner of a garage told me I would be entitled to a big discount on my car repairs if I paid with cash rather than cheque. Naïvely I asked how that could be. “It’s simple” the garage owner said. “If you pay with cash we can avoid the value added tax.” I quickly replied that I couldn’t do that since I was a church minister. “Yes, I know you’re a minister,” he said. “That’s why I thought you might appreciate a discount.” I smiled, but he was proposing fraud. I paid by cheque.

There is a cost – sometimes literally – from being honest, truthful and virtuous. It has always been like that, and it’s never likely to change.

Second, short-term advantage can, however, lead to long-term disaster. I recall being asked to check if someone had actually held the university posts he claimed on a job application. I did find out – he had never held any of those posts. Not only was that applicant not appointed to the position he now sought, news of his deceit inevitably spread far and wide. His dishonesty meant he’d never be employed at a senior level.

Cheating can reach the level of bizarre. One of the most flagrant and now notorious cases concerns George Santos who was elected to the US House of Representatives from a New York congressional district in 2023. News reporters then researched Santos’ background. What they found differed significantly from his own story. He had lied about his education, past employment, business activities, earnings and wealth, and not disclosed his criminal history, nor that he was facing lawsuits. Just before the end of 2023 the House of Representatives voted 311 to 114 to expel Santos. In August the next year, he pleaded guilty to identity theft and wire fraud, and was sentenced to 87 months in prison. On the day of his sentence, John J. Durham, United States Attorney for the Eastern District of New York, said this: “Today, George Santos was finally held accountable for the mountain of lies, theft, and fraud he perpetrated. For the defendant, it was judgment day, and for his many victims including campaign donors, political parties, government agencies, elected bodies, his own family members, and his constituents, it is justice.”[4] Santos was jailed but a few months later President Donald Trump commuted his sentence and he was released. He had freedom from prison, but no freedom from a ruined reputation.

Another reputation – that of David, King over Israel and Judah – was ruined around 1000 years BC. While walking on the roof of his palace late one evening, David saw a beautiful woman called Bathsheba bathing in her nearby home. Her husband, Uriah, had been gone for some time, fighting in David’s army. Filled with desire, David sent for Bathsheba and they had sex. Later she discovered that she was pregnant and let David know. The King’s secret affair would soon not be a secret. Trying to cover his tracks, David had Uriah brought back from the front line, supposedly to report on the progress of the fighting but actually so he would go home and have sex with his wife. But Uriah’s sense of honour would not let him make love to his wife while his fellow soldiers were camped on a battle field. David was now desperate. He gave Uriah a sealed letter to take back to the army commander. That letter was Uriah’s death sentence, because it ordered the commander to put Uriah where the upcoming battle would be fiercest, and then withdraw support from him so Uriah was stranded and killed. It happened: Uriah was abandoned during the battle and died. David, an adulterer and now a murderer, breathed a sigh of relief. But not for long. Through a prophet, David’s sin became known, resulting in great trouble during the rest of his reign. His sin was also recorded in the Jewish scriptures and then in the whole Bible, where we can read about it today (in 2 Samuel, ch.s 11-12). David indulged his lust for Bathsheba, but one night of pleasure led to one of the world’s worst stories of illicit sex and murder being read everywhere for some three millennia.

Doing something wrong for short-term gain rarely ends well.

Third, honouring your beliefs and principles is always right. In a previous blog post I described a personal experience.


The UK runs a national census in every year that ends in a ‘1’. The census is done now by answering questions online but in earlier years everyone filled out census forms. In one of those past ‘1’ years, I was a student looking for summer employment and got hired to help deal with the millions of census forms. My job was in a very large warehouse, almost entirely filled with shelving holding boxes of forms. A small team of ‘experts’ sat at one end coding each answer for entry into the rudimentary computer system used back then. I was a much more lowly file-picker. All I did every day was take an order for a batch of files, find their boxes among the shelves, and transport them by push-trolley to the coders. When the coders were finished with them, I put them back on the shelves. It was brain-numbingly boring work. But they paid me to do it, so I was grateful to have the job.

A fellow file-picker told me one day that when he was given an order to bring a batch of files, he was told not to use a trolley, just bring them one box at a time and walk slowly. He thought it hilarious that he was ordered to take as long as possible to do his job. I didn’t think it funny, just strange, perhaps too strange to be true. Until one of the bosses gave me virtually the same instruction: to fetch files but not to use a trolley and to take my time.

Eventually the explanation dawned on me. It wasn’t just the file-pickers who were temps; so were the coders and so were many of the bosses. Almost everyone working in that warehouse had a financial interest in their job lasting as long as possible, hence a secret ‘go-slow’ policy.

That first time I carried the files one by one to the coders and back to the shelves. And I did it the next day. But then I couldn’t do it any more. This was wrong, just wrong. Deliberately slow work cheated the top officers who needed census results processed promptly, cheated the tax payers who were paying my wages, and, for me as a Christian, I felt I was cheating God by not giving my best. I didn’t sleep well that night; I knew what I had to do next morning. I got my first order for files, went to the shelves, offloaded the boxes on to a trolley, and wheeled it to the coders. Later I did the same in reverse to put them back on the shelves. I kept doing that through the day. No-one said anything.

But they did the day after. I got an order for files, and found my way to their location in the centre of the ‘stacks’. Two file-picker colleagues were waiting there for me. One pinned me against the shelving, while both of them made their views very clear. ‘You do what you want to do, but you’d better not show us up by how you do it.’ I can’t reproduce the hostile tone they used, and I haven’t included the words beginning with ‘f’ and ‘b’ that littered their warning. With a last shove they let me go, and disappeared. It was a moment of decision. But the only decision I could make was to be true to myself. I had to live what I believed, and that was to do the job right. Which I did, day after day. And, as with most bullies, the file-pickers didn’t go through with their threats.

Living with a clear conscience, living as you believe you should – it’s the only way to feel good about yourself, to honour others and God, and to get a good night’s sleep.  [From https://occasionallywise.com/2021/03/27/be-true-to-yourself/]

That was a trial-of-principles moment for me. It was hard at the time but it strengthened my determination to always be true to what I believe is right.

But no trial of mine can be compared to the choice which faced Polycarp.[5]

Polycarp was Bishop of the church in Smyrna, a city in Asia Minor (modern Izmir in Turkey), around 160 AD, a time when Christians were distrusted and hated in the Roman Empire. They would not submit to the rule of the emperor as a divine figure, nor would they sacrifice to the Roman gods, so Christians were considered guilty of disloyalty and treason. Many died for their faith.

Bishop Polycarp was an old man, old enough to have known and followed the Apostle John. His age did not save him from persecution. He was told to burn incense to the Roman emperor or he would die. He refused and he was arrested. Polycarp knew what lay ahead for him, but said: “86 years have I have served him, and he has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King and my Saviour?”[6]

Dragged into an arena, the Proconsul warned Polycarp he would be torn by wild animals if he would not recant his faith. Polycarp was unmoved. Then, the Proconsul said, you will be burned at the stake. Wood and bundles of sticks were heaped up. Soldiers stood ready to nail Polycarp to the stake so he could not flee when the fire was lit. Polycarp stopped them: “Leave me as I am, for he that gives me strength to endure the fire, will enable me not to struggle, without the help of your nails.” The fire was lit and blazed furiously. Polycarp stood still, and somehow – by a miracle observers said – the flames burned around Polycarp but did him no harm. But he could not be allowed to live, so an executioner was ordered to stab Polycarp to death, which he did, and his dead body was later burned by the Roman authorities.

Not many have been as true to their beliefs as Polycarp was. His remarkable example is of someone determined to be firm in his faith, no matter how dreadful the consequences.

In conclusion, then, it’s easy to opt for the easy life, doing what everyone else does. You don’t upset anyone. You don’t get into trouble. But can you live with yourself doing that? Suppressing the truth deep in your soul? Abandoning your principles just to be safe, just to be comfortable? It’s not right, and the benefits don’t last.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German pastor, could not accept Nazi ideology, could not go along with the crowd as many others did. Alexei Navalny could not keep quiet about the way his beloved Russia was being governed. Both dared to oppose their nation’s rulers, knowing that might mean paying the ultimate price. Bonhoeffer was hanged only a few months before World War II ended. Navalny died in a remote Arctic prison colony in February 2024. Neither saw their dreams fulfilled, but their example, their refusal to abandon their beliefs, has inspired thousands, probably millions.

Jesus said: “… wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it” (Matthew 7:13). Don’t be part of the crowd on that road.

[1] There are more than 790 islands off the mainland of Scotland, but only 93 of these are inhabited. The islands can be grouped into four main clusters: the Inner Hebrides and the Outer Hebrides to the north west, the Orkney Islands and the Shetland Islands to the north.

[2] In midsummer, after 19 hours of daylight, Shetland experiences the ‘simmer dim’ – described this way: “Simmer dim refers to the time around midsummer, when after the sun has set, light lingers. It is neither daylight or darkness, but an uncanny in-between time, an extended twilight blurring the boundaries between day and night.” https://www.shetland.org/blog/midsummer-in-shetland

[3] For more information about Shetland, I recommend this website: https://www.shetland.org/about

[4] U.S. Attorney’s Office, Eastern District of New York: https://www.justice.gov/usao-edny/pr/ex-congressman-george-santos-sentenced-87-months-prison-wire-fraud-and-aggravated

[5] The details which follow about the death of Polycarp were in a letter called The Martyrdom of Polycarp sent by eye-witnesses of the martyrdom to churches in the surrounding area.

[6] It is hard to be sure if Polycarp meant he was 86 years old, or that 86 years had passed since his conversion to follow Christ.

‘If only everyone thought like me, things would be much better.’ No, they wouldn’t.

During two weeks in an Aberdeen hospital I got to know most of my fellow patients. Further down the ward was the 25-year-old who’d been there for 12 weeks after smashing his leg by simply falling off his stationary bicycle. Across from me was the man whose wife visited each evening, after which he’d phone his girlfriend. Then there was the old fellow from a remote island off the north of Scotland. Until this illness, he’d never left his small island. Not once.

But the patient I never got to know was right next to me. We exchanged a few words, but that’s all because he had his own TV and watched soap operas all day. Since he had no earphones, I endured every episode too. Most evenings his wife drove a long way to see him, but they didn’t talk – they spent their hour watching one of the prime time soaps together.

I couldn’t do what he did. So much of his life spent on so little. I wanted out of that hospital to pour my energy and skills, such as they are, into things of importance. I wanted my life to matter. I wanted a life well-lived.

But perhaps I’m the odd person. Maybe more people are like the man in the next bed, thinking only about finding pleasurable ways to pass the time.

But, if we are to have a life well-lived, what are (at least some) of the principles we should live by?

Starting with the story of a building project, I’ll lay out some principles in this blog. In other blogs I’ll add some more.

Here we go.

After living in our current house for about nine years, Alison and I finally decided we had to enlarge the back of the property. We’d always disliked the smallness of our kitchen, particularly since it was also a passageway to another part of the house. It was time for a house extension.

An architect did the drawings, the necessary official permissions were granted, and we engaged a builder. He started work in February, and promised the project would be done by June. It wasn’t done by June. Not even nearly. The work continued through the summer, and finally he said it would be finished by Christmas. I almost asked him ‘Which Christmas?’ In the end, the builder kept his promise but only just – the last workman left on Christmas Eve.

It seems all building projects over-run. But our experience pales into insignificance compared to the story of building St Vitus Cathedral in Prague.

There were religious buildings on the same site from the year 960, some of which were enlarged after 1060. But I won’t include those.

We’ll start counting from when work started on the present building. It began, on the instruction of Charles IV, in 1344. Work slowed when the king diverted one of the early architects to other projects, such as the construction of the Charles Bridge. As the years ticked by, architect succeeded architect, each contributing their own features to the building.

Then the slow work became no work. In 1419 the Hussite Wars halted all construction. It wasn’t a short interruption. Little happened for a long time because of wars, a major fire, lack of funds, and probably apathy. The half-finished building stayed that way for over 400 years.

Then, mid-way through the 1800s, a society was formed with the purpose of completing the cathedral. They began by removing some elements of earlier design, repairing others, and in 1870 laid the foundation of a new nave. A whole new façade was built in the later years of the century, and a rose window created in the 1920s.

The cathedral was complete by the time of the St Wenceslas jubilee in 1929. I’ve visited it, and it is truly a remarkable building. It’s also a large building. I was told you could park a Boeing 747 Jumbo Jet inside (though there would be a problem getting it through the doors). The cathedral has a prominent location, sitting inside the boundaries of Prague Castle, towering high on the hill above the Vltava River.

So, construction began in 1344 and was completed in 1929. That’s a staggering 585 years. Don’t ever complain again that your building project is taking too long.

The construction story of St Vitus Cathedral gives us some principles of living well.

The best and most lasting of things take time

Nearly 600 years was a very long time to build a cathedral. But the end result is magnificent. In the 21st century, however, what we want we want now. Waiting isn’t in our vocabulary.

While living in America, my TV viewing was interrupted by ads for the P90X fitness system. I was shown how ‘Wayne’ had lost 43 lbs in 90 days. The trainer said: ‘Work out with me and you’ll be shocked by the results.’ I’m sure I would have been shocked, though not in the way the trainer meant.

What that ad was selling was quick-fix fitness. That’s much the same as ads telling us we can speak a foreign language in a week, or look ten years younger with an instant makeover, or pass your motorcycle test after one day’s training, or have a gorgeous garden after one visit to the garden centre.

We’d like to believe these messages. We want things now. Not next week, next month, next year. And we don’t want the effort of mastering a skill, or waiting until the right time, or allowing something to mature or develop.

But that’s not how the best things happen.

I like to remember that God put Jesus on this earth and then gave him 30 years before he started his ‘public ministry’. Time had to pass. The work was too important to rush.

For the important things we do, the same principle applies. Skills must be gained. Maturity and wisdom must develop. The right time must be reached. The right preparations made. The right care put into the work.

We need to be the best we can be. We need to do the best we can do. Those take more than 90 days.

We can’t be loners

Thousands of people, with hundreds of skills, were used to build St Vitus Cathedral – architects, foundation diggers, wall builders, roof builders, creators of stain glass windows, furniture makers, painters of fine art, and so on.

But the foundation diggers couldn’t have built the walls, nor could the stone masons have erected the complex roofs, and neither of them could have installed the beautiful windows.

The important things of this world need people with many different skills and insights.

But there are two problems with this principle.

One, it offends some people’s pride. ‘Are you saying I’m not competent to do this work?’ they’d say. To which I’d want to answer: ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying’. The task requires more wisdom and skill than any one person has.

The other problem is that people don’t like to hear alternative views. They might grudgingly agree there should be input from others, but they don’t want that input to challenge their already established opinion. It should line up behind what they already want to do. It’s annoying and awkward when someone puts forward another proposal. An angry voice eventually shouts: ‘Why can’t you see things the way I do?’

In other words, ‘if only everyone thought like me, …’ ‘if only everyone agreed with my ideas…’  if only everyone had my vision…’ then things would be much better.

No, they wouldn’t. They’d be much worse.

Important things require interaction and interdependency. Ideas and abilities generated by only ‘one brain power’ and ‘one skill set’ would be seriously limited. Good work needs others.

One challenge, then, is to overcome our pride, to accept our ideas may not be the best, and to really believe others have wisdom. Then comes the second challenge, to blend several visions into a cohesive and effective whole. There’s nothing easy about those challenges. But not to try is disastrous.

We must play our part in our day

Since it took so long to build St Vitus Cathedral there’s something peculiar about the experience of the workers. The first foundation diggers toiled generation after generation, and not one of them saw a wall go up. The same was true for the early wall builders, fathers and sons raising high walls, but never seeing a roof in place. And probably those who built the roofs never saw the marvellous art placed later inside the cathedral.

So, almost none of the tens of thousands who laboured on the cathedral during  585 years of construction ever saw the end result of their work: people gathering there to worship God. They never saw the whole thing complete.

But – and here’s the essential truth – each played their part in their day and each part was needed. The wall builders couldn’t have erected towering facades if the foundation labourers hadn’t done their work. Roofers couldn’t have built steep and complex roofs if the walls hadn’t been built.

Every generation who worked on that cathedral needed the one before to have toiled hard and well on their part of the building, because they were now (literally) standing on it. And every generation after them would stand (or fall) depending on how well they did their work now that it was their day.

For the same reasons it’s important we give our best in our day, wherever that’s needed: in our workplace, our family, our church, among our neighbours, in our town or city. We stand on the shoulders of our forebears, building on the work of those who came before us. Others after us will want to stand on our shoulders, the shoulders of people who have given their whole hearts to our tasks and responsibilities. We are the forebears of the next generation.

Put simply: just as we needed those who came before us, those after us will need us to have given our best.

Today is our moment, our time, our day. It’s when we influence lives for the best, shape the world around us, and build something strong that lasts and something magnificent for which others will be grateful. Others came before us, and others will come after us. But this is our day. We cannot fail in what we’re given to do.