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In Christ there is no East nor West
As a a Yorkshireman, born and bred, one thing really gets up my nose; people from Yorkshire. Not people from Yorkshire in general, just those who consider that their home area is the only genuine part of the County of Broad Acres - the ones who think that anybody born north of Beverley is a Geordie or that Grimsby is in France because it is on the other side of a big stretch of water. My disapproval is especially reserved for the ones who believe that all Yorkshire people are white, Anglo-Saxon, and more Protestant than John Calvin.
There was a time when I lived perfectly amicably with neighbours who were neither white, nor Anglo-Saxon, nor anything remotely resembling Protestant. A visitor remarked on the number of little brown chaps in our street, except that he used a far more pejorative word for them. To be honest, I had not noticed that they were different. In fact, as most of them had been born south of the Tees, I considered them to be fellow citizens, with me, of God's own country.
All this handwringing about who is what and from where has been brought on by increasingly urgent requests from the Archbishops' Council to reveal my ethnic origin. Like Harry Potter's invitations to join Hogwarts' School, the more that I shred them, the more arrive. A disproportionately large part of the budget of the Central Board of Finance of the Church of England must be being wasted on the vain attempt to discover what colour I am. If they came up here and looked they would see. At this time of the year I am a light brown Celt, of uncertain temper and barely Protestant at all.
What does it matter? In Christ there is no East nor West, in him no North nor South, or so the hymn goes. British society has become obsessed with equal opportunities. With Jesus all mankind is equal, and that includes women. "Red and yellow, black and white, all are precious in his sight, Jesus loves the children of the world", we used to sing at school, in the days when we could mention skin colour without being dragged off by the thought police. Although I am not permitted to mention what shade he is, I am delighted to note that the next Archbishop for this part of Yorkshire hails from Uganda. It could have been worse. He might have been Welsh.
May God bless you all, Fr Allan
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