In Depth:  Niv Lobo

Niv Lobo

Nolo episcopari! No, not a Harry Potter spell. It’s a Latin tagline – meaning "I don’t want to be made a Bishop!" – a reaction that has almost become traditional when someone is nominated to significant office in the church.

It’s an intuitive idea: the best person to be given power is the one who isn’t grasping for it. Given how much influence and authority the role entails, perhaps the most becoming candidate for an overseer in God’s church is one who refuses it.

Niv Lobo

Here’s one of the least wholesome and most shocking experiences in 21st century life: one is scrolling unknowingly, perhaps even unthinkingly, on one’s phone, and suddenly sees an act of murderous violence as a video plays automatically.

Particularly in the last few weeks, with footage of the murder of Iryna Zarutska in Charlotte, North Carolina, recently released; and then with the assassination of Charlie Kirk - political activist and committed Christian - while speaking at a campus event in Utah. We may be an ocean away, but we're connected enough for these tragedies to feature in our cultural conversation, not least when they are played and replayed on our screens.

Niv Lobo

I often think about a scene in The Simpsons Movie (2007): a terrifying dome comes down on Springfield, and its citizens are thrown into disarray.

In the panic, we see the church and Moe’s Bar emptying out, the congregants and the drinkers standing outside the respective buildings, looking up in horror.

Niv Lobo

Warning: the following content relates to crimes of abuse and could be both upsetting and triggering.

Recent headlines have reported on the shocking case of Stephen Ireland and David Sutton, both jailed for multiple child sex offences. The former has been a prominent LGBT advocate and campaigner, was a founder of ‘Pride in Surrey’, and cultivated significant relationships with local police — drawing added attention to the case.

Niv Lobo

One should never watch anything that wounds one’s conscience; Romans 14:23 tells us there are terrible consequences of acting against our conscience.

I don’t often, therefore, speak about my fascination with the horror genre in cinema. And yet, the popularity of horror films is worth pondering. Rather than engage at any length with the film which prompted these reflections — Robert Eggers’s 2024 remake, Nosferatu — what might its success teach us?

Niv Lobo

Near the start of A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens describes Scrooge as ‘a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone’. When a pair of portly philanthropists assail Scrooge on Christmas Eve, looking for a charitable donation, he says something that proves the description accurate. On being told some would rather die than go to the workhouse, Scrooge says, ‘they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population’.

It is a moment of heart-stopping heartlessness. In the peerless Muppet adaptation, Beaker and Doctor Bunsen Honeydew shake their heads in disbelief and consternation. This moment has signalled Scrooge’s unmistakeable depravity to generations of readers, staking out just how far his inhumanity goes — and therefore just how drastic his redemption will need to be.

Niv Lobo

There’s a beautifully written, perfectly acted scene in an old TV show: two characters, husband and wife, have been in a heated argument. As they’re beginning to see one another’s point of view, and the heat is about to seep out of the argument, one admits that they were in the wrong.

Just as they add, ‘however’ - about to defend their corner - the other jumps in immediately: 'No. No "however". Just be wrong. Just stand there in your wrongness and be wrong and get used to it!'