SOME Vicars with Jokes (BBC4, Wednesday of last week)
was not, as one might have expected, a digest of the proceedings of
the recent sessions of the General Synod, but served up exactly
what it said on the tin. The model was last year's Old Jews
Telling Jokes, and the comparison was illuminating.
The elderly American Jews, male and female alike, told almost
uniformly filthy jokes, while the British clerics, though happy to
refer to matters of a sexual nature, were much more restrained (the
best joke of the evening employed the rudest language).
As a measure of clerical openness to the vagaries of life, and
ability to entertain, it offered an admirable riposte to the
widespread assumption that ordination involves surgical removal of
the funny bone. It was not just vicars: the term was used in the
media-sense of anyone with back-to-front collar. Incumbents shared
the stage with chaplains and ministers of other denominations, and
the event was dignified by the participation of a diocesan bishop
(retired).
I suspect that the material will be recycled more in
after-dinner speeches than as sermon illustrations. In one respect,
the performers will have felt completely at home: recorded as
simply as possible, the venue appeared to be an echoing hall with a
tiny and generally unresponsive audience.
Relentless cheeriness was the hallmark of Rashid Khan, our guide
to A Very British Ramadan (Channel 4, Monday of last
week), an introduction to Channel 4's daily Ramadan
Diaries. This year, Ramadan comes at the most difficult time:
the length between sunrise and sunset is as long as possible,
making the fast from food and drink exceptionally challenging. But
what we saw were people, young and old, excited by its
approach.
It was impossible not to draw comparisons with our keeping of
Lent: Islam integrates religious observance with ordinary daily
life in a way that most British Christians would consider reserved
for excessive enthusiasts. Khan met a wide range of Muslims eager
to talk about how the holy month brings them spiritual discipline,
builds up their relationship with God, encourages them to greater
hospitality and charity, and binds them together in the nightly
feast.
Keenly awaiting 30 days of getting up at 3 a.m. to pray is, to
say the least, counter-cultural; how challenging for us to have so
many neighbours delighted to live out their faith with such
commitment.
There was a different approach to food in Great British
Budget Menu (BBC1, Thursday of last week). Three top chefs
were confronted by the food poverty of many UK households, sharing
for a few days the lives of a pensioner, a couple with four
children, and a single mother with a teenage daughter.
After paying necessary bills, about £2 per head per day was left
for food. The chefs surprised their hosts with a nutritious and
balanced diet, and served up a great banquet for £1 a head - but
then they spent all day shopping, and had a lifetime's skill. More
impressive was their outrage at the conditions many ordinary people
experience in our wealthy country, and their resolve to use their
celebrity status to challenge them.
