Thought for the Day

Good morning.
You’re listening to this, so the chances are you’re not on holiday. You may be enjoying a staycation and devoted to early-morning radio, even when you don’t have to go to work; but for many Brits this is the peak season for getting out of the country, and indulging the luxury of a lie-in, as the summer loosens our usual routines.
I really feel for those whose holidaying plans have been disrupted recently by travel companies collapsing into bankruptcy. Holidays are good for us, psychologically and physically; and though it’s less often noted, spiritually too. In which context, it’s worth remembering those countless other people around the world for whom they are simply an impossibility.
The word holiday comes from the Old English and literally means “holy day”; and in a colloquial sense, many of us continue to think of our holidays as something sacred. But the old Christian holy days meant more than just time off work. They included formal worship, processions, pilgrimage. Their moods varied – from fasting and mourning, as on Good Friday, to feasting and celebration, as at Christmas or a saint’s day – but they all had a definite religious focus. A world away, in other words, from pina coladas on a sun-drenched beach, the cliché contemporary breakaway that’s focused instead on personal pleasure.
That said, supposedly secular forms of escapism can sometimes offer spiritual nourishment too. J. R. R. Tolkien made the point that escaping from the immediate demands of your life can take very different forms. Whereas we might deplore the military deserter who abandons the fight he ought to face, Tolkien says, the flight of the person who’s been falsely imprisoned might be courageous and good. Reading certain works of fiction can, he thought, offer that positive sort of escapism. So too, it might be argued, can a beautiful walk, an intimate conversation, laughing with friends. Imaginative flights of all sorts grant glimpses of truth and goodness, refreshment for our souls.
Andy Burnham has been criticised by some for taking a holiday this week – just six weeks after taking office. But his escape with his family on Monday may well provide him more than leisure, in the sense of doing nothing. His flight from Downing Street might, as Tolkien understood it, offer the kind of freedom that’s positively enabling.
Whimsically, given that he’s Britain’s first Catholic prime minister, I like to think he’ll spend at least some of his holiday plotting a revival of merry old England’s medieval holy days. More seriously, and leaving all party-politics aside, perhaps everyone who loves this country should hope that time relaxing with loved ones will nourish his soul as well as his mind and body. There will surely be work requiring moral leadership awaiting him on his return.

06 AUG 26

Good morning. August is the month of exam results and education is in the news again. Each year, young people find themselves at the centre of debates about standards, academic versus vocational. Reform, opportunity and social mobility. And governments struggle with how we can equip young people for the economy of tomorrow and still give them a balanced education. But I wonder if we're asking one question often enough – what kind of human beings do we hope they’ll become?
A couple of days ago my son phoned in the morning from his regular coffee shop. I could hear the chatter and tinkling in the background. "The coffee here is so good," he said. I replied, "Is this your little moment of joy before you start the day, settle down to work?" He said “joy - that’s a nice way of looking at it.” Afterwards I thought to myself: Why did I call it a little moment of joy? Why do we think that joy belongs only in the margins of life - before work begins or after success has finally been achieved?
And I think that our education system reflects that assumption. We make so much effort to prepare children for exams, employment and success that it’s hardly surprising that many end up feeling their value is something they must constantly earn. The pressure and anxiety has made many incapable of seeing or letting any joy into their life – as if joy has now become a luxury.
In a world where cynicism and pessimism is everywhere, even encouraged, devastating news a daily feature, to find joy for yourself, and to try to inspire it in others is an act of courage, even resistance. As a Belgian surrealist artist Rene Magritte pointed out it’s a waste when life is made more frightening precisely because that’s easy to do. For him, finding beauty was harder and because of that more important – as he said: ‘it’s much easier to terrorise than to charm.’
Perhaps this is what faith tries to remind us, that to ponder on the world means finding love and enchantment amidst our struggles and sorrows. The Qur'an invites us to look, to reflect and to marvel at the changing seasons, the stars, the diversity of humanity. The words `do they not see’ pull us constantly to what can be observed, imagined and made possible. Whether it’s in a morning coffee or a quiet walk, perhaps joy accompanies us all the time – we are simply too busy to notice.

04 AUG 26

03 AUG 26