Leavers, I need your help: A Christian Remain Response to the EU Referendum

I woke up yesterday morning not remembering what news I had been waiting for in my sleep. What I have felt since then resembles the stages of grief: shock, denial and anger. I cried for a long time when I found out the news that we had voted to leave the European Union. I honestly feel an overwhelming sense of sadness, anger, bewilderment, betrayal, desperation, and powerlessness.

And yet. And yet, I totally believe with my heart and my head that God is in control; yes, indeed, “I know that my Redeemer lives and that in the end he will stand upon the earth” (Job 19:25). I know my citizenship is not of this earth; I know that God is sovereign; I know that my primary concern is the spread of the Gospel and his Kingdom, not earthly principalities.

But does all that mean that as Christians we shouldn’t feel emotions about this? I think not and I’m here to express that. This post is written out of a heart in turmoil, a head that aches from thinking about all this and a desire to try and struggle through these issues and come out the other side with grace and love. I’m trying, and praying, but it’s hard. I need help, and I imagine a lot of Christians are feeling like this too.

When someone endures a loss such as a loved one dying, getting a cancer diagnosis or becoming bankrupt, do we glibly tell them it’s ok and not to worry because “God knows”? No… at least I hope not. Yes, we use the Bible as a means of comforting them but in the context of offering support, love, compassion and understanding.

God cares deeply about our membership of the EU (or not). That’s not to claim I know his opinion on it. I just know that he cares. His sovereignty does not preclude sadness, anger or pleasure at earthly actions. Quite the opposite; who cares more about injustice and poverty than the Lord our God? Whose heart breaks more than his at needless death, greed and violence? (Proverbs 6:17 – “The Lord hates hands that shed innocent blood”; Psalm 10:17 – “You, Lord, hear the desire of the afflicted”). So God himself, who knows that all things are bound together for his pleasure, purposes and glory, feels pain and anger and devastation at the events that happen on this earth.  

I have seen many Christians post verses and quick-fire responses that seem to reference God’s sovereignty as a reason for not having strong feelings about the referendum. And I find them very hard to accept because I am struggling. I’m struggling to wrap my heart around the truths of God’s word, and I am clinging onto them, but just as in any other crisis you are still buffeted around by grief and anger while you hold onto the anchor, and I need help.

So, Christians who voted Leave, and those who voted Remain but weren’t all that bothered about the vote, I am asking you 5 favours:

1) Please accept and acknowledge that a deep Christian belief in God’s sovereignty is not incompatible with deeply negative feelings about this decision. Please do not gloss over these legitimate feelings or assume we are responding unchristianly because we are going through them.

2) Please show compassion to us and allow us to feel what we need to feel while we struggle to hold onto God’s promises through this. Yesterday it had been literally HOURS since the decision was announced,  we were all still reeling, and my feed was full of people telling us to “stop whinging”; “suck it up”; and other less wholesome language. I’m fully aware there were Remain voters also coming out with some nasty stuff and that’s not on either but I’m not speaking specifically to them in this post.

3) Please try and understand that you really don’t understand how this feels, and that’s ok, but it needs acknowledging. If you voted to Leave, or voted to Remain but didn’t really feel that passionate about it, it’s impossible to understand why we are feeling genuinely awful about it. It’s not at all the same as how the Leave voters would have felt if they’d lost, because a) that wouldn’t have been a shock and b) that would have meant a return to the status quo. This is a seismic shift and one that’s very much full of uncertainty and turmoil.

4) Please talk to us. I am sensible enough to be deeply concerned that the referendum does not come between Christian brothers and sisters! But a lack of grace in any situation, from either side, is more difficult to overcome. I am a flawed person and I struggle to be fully gracious when it comes to political issues, but I am desperately trying! As the winners, I need the help of Leave voters to be magnanimous in victory!

5) If you’re a Christian and not bothered about politics, please question why not. I have more empathy for Leave voters who were passionate about their belief for the right reasons than Remain voters who aren’t bothered. The Christians of the past – the Wilberforces, Booths and Frys – they were at the forefront of social change because of their Christian beliefs, not in spite of. And if our minds are on heaven, we will act on earth.

You might sense that this isn’t written as a wrapped-up, perfectly-packaged piece but a whole load of scrambled emotions…. And you’d be spot on. I am aware, and sorry for, any ungracious attitudes to those who disagree with me and don’t empathise with my feelings on the matter throughout this campaign. Some may think that enough is enough and one more opinion piece on the EU is one too many, but I hope by writing this it may help some and at least explain my seemingly nonsensical reactions to some of my friends.

In Christ, who will indeed one day stand upon the earth – Amen!

3. Even Dogs in the Wild - 50 Books in a Year

I liked this book immediately for three reasons: first, it was a surprise present from my husband (albeit after quite a lot of heavy hinting... like, "Has anyone bought me the latest Rankin for Christmas?"); second, it's an Ian Rankin/Rebus book; and third, the cover has flocked bits on it that are really nice to run your finger over.

Ever since we found an Inspector Rebus book in the Greek hotel we honeymooned in and fought over reading it for the duration of the week, I've been hooked on the series. My dad was into them first, but I guess I still had a hangover of teenage refusal to enjoy something on the basis that he did (see also: Bob Dylan, olives and avocado). I've now read them all.

If you haven't come across Ian Rankin's Inspector Rebus series before, it's a set of 20 books about a Scottish detective with excellent musical taste called John Rebus who works in and around Edinburgh solving murders, getting himself into trouble with his bosses, and nurturing a long-term abusive relationship with whisky and bacon butties.

The last three books in the series are actually set after Rebus' official retirement from the force. We find him scrabbling around for a purpose without his career to give him one, leading him to continually hustle his protegée-turned-successor DI Siobhan Clarke for cases to 'consult' on.

This does mean that I wouldn't recomend this title if you haven't read any of the others in the series. There's a lot of Rebus background painting the scenery of Even Dogs in the Wild.

This book doesn't err from the tried-and-tested whodunnit formula, yet keeps you on your toes as usual. Rankin writes a classic murder mystery very well while taking an interesting angle on current affairs. He's discussed everything in this series from the G20 summit to the Edinburgh tramline development to the Scottish vote on independence. This novel sees him tackling the horrors of the child abuse cover-ups that have come to light since the Jimmy Savile revelations. Wry lines such as "they can put that in their pipe and vape it" root his books firmly in the present-day.

The first few pages had me rolling my eyes more than once at the over-familiar Rebus tropes: he hates the parking in Edinburgh; he buys fattening food on the go; he likes cigarettes and pints of IPA and drives a battered Saab. We know. But Rankin has managed yet again to develop his personality in retirement in a believable and satisfying manner. Age has softened him somewhat, as shown through his relationship with Malcolm Fox, a character who is becoming more and more interesting in his own right. Yet his scenes with Cafferty reveal his steely side too as the two men and their intertwining lives continue to form the backbone of these books.

It's not the most beautiful literature ever written; nevertheless, it's not only a great crime novel, but also somewhat philosophical. The Rebus books never fail to provoke thought about some aspect of being human. If you haven't yet read them, I'm envious. Start here (this new edition will have the nice flocky bits on too - bonus).

2. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas - 50 Books in a Year

After I finished The Kite Runner, I thought it would be good to read something a bit lighter, funnier and more uplifting. Then Aidan thrust his copy of The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas into my hands. I knew it was something to do with the Holocaust, having gleaned that much from the trailer for the film, but thought, it being a children's book (aimed at Year 7ish), it couldn't be that harrowing to read.

Given To Kill a Mockingbird is one of my favourite books, I should have known better. It's the same concept: a child telling a story through their own eyes, with the reader understanding more than the child themself does. It makes it all the more chilling to read of a concentration camp in the childish language of a 9-year-old, just as Scout's innocent narrative of racism in the deep South renders it more disturbing to her audience.

Aidan would say it is a spoiler to mention the Holocaust as he thinks the book is at its most powerful when the reader has no concept of its subject matter and thus gradually understands as Bruno, the narrator, tells his story. I agree with him, but it's hard to write a book review without revealing anything about the book.

Having spent several years of my life studying the Second World War from various angles, I suspected I might find this book somewhat clichéd. But the perspective is different; Bruno is the son of a Nazi officer who has found favour with 'the Fury' and runs the concentration camp at 'Outwith'. He befriends a Jewish boy who lives on the other side of the barbed wire fence which is all that separates his hellish life from Bruno's cosseted one.

The characters in this book are well developed and Bruno's thoughts, as a 9-year-old boy, will resonate with any other boy of a similar age. I felt there was a discussion to be had about just how far the author pushed Bruno's naivety - at times he seemed to be doggedly determined in his failure to understand the events unfolding around him - but most books request you to suspend disbelief in one way at some point anyway, and as long as it is in one way only, as it is here, I will happily acquiesce.

The only weak point for me was the ending. I'm very particular about endings, and this one didn't quite satisfy, but it was also suitably harrowing; a plus point in my book, as I hate sugar-coated finales.

I have not yet seen the film, but want to do so. I'm curious to see how they could interpret a book whose principal purpose is to convey its tale via a specific means of narration rather than plot. I've heard good things though, so will reserve judgement.

Next up is book 3: Even Dogs in the Wild by Ian Rankin.

50 Books in a Year: 1. The Kite Runner

My husband has challenged me to read 50 books in a year. He's attempting the same challenge, and time was I would have outpaced him easily, but since I've had children my literary appetite has been somewhat lacking compared to my days as a bookaholic teenager and student.

However, now the baby days really are fast disappearing behind me and a full night's sleep is the blissful norm now, I've become quite the avid reader again, and I can feel parts of my brain that have lain dormant for the last five years waking up and feeling great relief that there is life yet. 

So I've accepted the 50 Books challenge, and wanted to blog about it, as quite frankly I struggle to keep count, and I want to remember what I thought of them. 

Number 1 is a very worthy opener; The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, although I cheated a bit with this one as I finished it in 2016 but started it in 2015. I say 'worthy' because this is one of those novels that everyone knows they ought to read but doesn't, and I count myself as 'everyone' until December 2015, when our newly founded Book Club selected this for our first joint read. 

I was apprehensive as I knew it was set in Afghanistan and involved sad things and there's a part of me that just wants to bury my head in my own little sandpit of school runs and meal planning and forget that there is a horrible world out there full of war and children who don't have enough to eat, let alone so much to eat they can afford to throw it on the floor in a strop. Nonetheless I'm far too much of a competitive perfectionist not to rise to the challenge, so I dove in.

I didn't get hooked straight away, although I know a lot of people do. It wasn't long though until I was compelled to read it whenever able. 

It's beautifully written, and so in one sense easy to read. In another though, there are some gruesome and stomach-turning events that make it almost impossible to read at points. The voice of the story is Amir, and his character is wonderfully complex, garnering sympathy and disgust from the reader at turns. 

Others would describe The Kite Runner as a very sad book, and although there are threads of deep sadness running throughout, not only in Amir's life but in the depiction of the ravages of Afghan history, I didn't shut it feeling devastated or distraught; rather there is a note of hope left ringing in your ears too. 

Since reading it I have been told by many people that A Thousand Splendid Suns by the same author is equally good if not better; and I'm interested to read that, especially as at times I struggled with the lack of female characters in The Kite Runner, and ATSS has central female characters. Hopefully that will make it onto my 50!