INTERVIEW: Henry Martin.

Henry Martin, artist, writer, former prison chaplain and ordained Anglican minister, talks about his new book Alongside which examines what we can learn from Jesus’ struggles to help us in our own …

The idea for Alongside came about after you experienced a series of what you call ‘jolt’ moments when reading the Bible – can you elaborate?

There are moments when Jesus says something unexpected in the Gospels which force me to sit up and ask, ‘Did he really say that?’  Consider the time he refused his family’s demand to see him. He turns to the crowds around and says that anyone who obeys God is his mother, sister or brother. That must have hurt his biological family. On another occasion, he tells his followers to ‘hate’ their parents. This kind of thing jolts me to realise that he belonged to another culture and had a very different way of speaking, using hyperbole for example to make his points. I’m grateful for the jolts; I expect him to always say the ‘right thing’ but my version of the ‘right thing’ needs constant maintenance, lest it slips into some woeful default that he is always meek and mild, or worse, that he’s just like me (white, middle-class and British). It is impossible to read the gospels without encountering some bumps.     

By your reading of the Bible, which aspects of life do you think Jesus particularly struggled with?

It was so much more than the wilderness, Gethsemane and the cross. I believe that Jesus struggled with his family, who had expectations of him that he chose not to meet. He struggled with those he called friends, especially when they continually failed to ‘get’ him. He struggled with the crowds, who were often more excited about his next wonder than his Kingdom. He struggled with the scriptures, although we see only it’s fruit, not the actual struggle. He had many run ins with religious people; you don’t call someone a ‘white-washed tomb’ without some level of disagreement. We can only guess how deeply he struggled with his destiny. Also, we do not know how the realisation came to him that he would have to die, and die in the most unpleasant manner. I refuse to believe that he accepted this without any sort of struggle. And finally, he surely struggled with God. Struggle is inextricably wound into the very essence of human faith; struggle is in the DNA of faith – a key component without which faith is not faith. For Jesus to be human like us, he had to accept human faith, our type of relationship with God. He surrenders perfect union for a while and does his best with our best option, which inevitably involves a struggle. 

For several years you were chaplain at HMP Manchester (aka ‘Strangeways’). Did you sense Jesus alongside any of the prisoners in their struggle to come to terms with their crimes or in their desire for redemption and rehabilitation?

I do not think many of them would describe Jesus in these terms. Sometimes one of the residents would tell me about an experience of meeting Jesus. Whenever I try to retell their stories I spoil them because I cannot stop myself reframing them in my own church-speak. I wish I’d been allowed to record some of their statements verbatim, but that was not allowed (and moreover my edification was not the point of the conversation).  Despite these caveats, I remember stories of men having astonishing encounters. Often these came when they were at rock bottom, perhaps in the small hours or alone in their cells. In these they felt, not a reworking of their sentence plans or a deep revelation about their crimes, but an overwhelming sense that they were loved and had value. And peace, always profound peace. Following this, they would never be same again… but I suspect that once again I am guilty of rephrasing their words into mine; it’s an occupational hazard for a chaplain. The original version was always much better. 

If you could ask Jesus just one question what would you ask him about his forty days and nights in the wilderness?

Much depends on whether I was guaranteed a straight answer. Jesus was very good a spotting the real issue behind every question and responding accordingly. Taking all of that into account, I would want to ask him, how often he questioned himself; as to whether he was doing the right thing there in the wilderness, whether he would survive the ordeal and whether he was sure that this was what God wanted him to be doing. I think I’ve just given a threefold answer to a single question. Is that allowed?   

Jesus called his followers not servants but friends. How can we know that Jesus, in friendship, has drawn alongside us?

Friendship with Jesus is complicated. It is a mystery, the contradiction of an impossibility versus an invitation. This was as true for his twelve back then as it is for us now. Friendship implies a balance, where each party contributes roughly equally on a level playing field. With Jesus, friendship is always going to be lopsided; he will always be a better friend to us that we’ll be to him. He will draw alongside us at times when we’ll have no idea he’s there. And yet he still insists that ‘friendship’ is the correct word. We see this played out with the Twelve. They often don’t get him. They are his friends, but they are also his students. They sign up, not just for companionship but also for instruction. Jesus is their leader, their teacher and their example. Often they flounder because their expectations are set by what they bring to the relationship. We likewise limit our perception of Jesus’ friendship. In this mystery we are genuine friends, but we are not consorting with an equal. I am grateful for the Twelve’s frequent stumbles as I too shamble along, trying to puzzle out the wonders of this relationship in my own faltering ways today. 

Lastly, what do you think we can learn from Jesus’ attitude do the things in life he was not unduly troubled by?

I would love to say that Jesus helps me to be much less attached to my possessions and less stressed about my timekeeping and reputation. Maybe he does. Goodness knows how wound up I’d get without him? I am one of life’s natural worriers, with a tendency to overthink and agonise. I need him to help me to find that balance, where I am not so laid back I do nothing, but equally not so stressed that I lurch from one bad decision to the next. This is why in the section about the climate emergency I make eight observations about how he approaches difficult things including: careful planning, facing the truth, engaging others, refusing violence and never allowing his attention to be diverted from the most vulnerable. That’s the tightrope I need his help to walk.

Henry Martin’s latest book, Alongside, is available now in paperback for £12.99 from all good bookstores and www.dltbooks.com . His first book was the acclaimed Eavesdropping, and he has also illustrated Brian Sibley’s book Joseph and the Three Gifts. He has worked in ministry in Dagenham, Salford and most recently for seven years as the Managing Chaplain at HMP Manchester (Strangeways).