Author: Suzanne

It’s Dragon Boat Festival today! This Chinese holiday falls on the 5th day of the 5th month of the lunar calendar. Although most people in China enjoy special foods, a public holiday, and some watch exciting dragon boat races today, the origins of this holiday are sombre. The Dragon Boat Festival commemorates the tragic passing of an ancient patriotic poet, Qu Yuan. 

What does Dragon Boat Festival have to do with Christians? It’s a secular holiday, but there are points of connection with the gospel in a back-to-front sort of way. Let me explain. 

A good heart … a bad king

Qu Yuan, so the story goes, ardently loved his country. Even when he was misunderstood, doubted and exiled from the capital after trying to warn his king against an unwise political alliance, he still loved his country. 

This man lived in what is now part of China. His tragic story took place about three centuries before Jesus’ birth. That was the era when, much further west, Greeks ruled Israel and the Hebrew Scriptures were translated into the lingua franca of the day, Greek. 

Poetry was how Qu Yuan expressed his love and fears for his country. When it became apparent that his land was doomed, Qu Yuan drowned himself.

The Dragon Boat Festival is named such because local people went out in boats looking for his body.  

Tragic. 

Pathetic. 

Hopeless. 

Deceitful hearts … an all-seeing king

The God-above-time spoke the following words about 300 years before the day of the good-hearted Qu Yuan.

The heart is deceitful above all things
and beyond cure.
Who can understand it?
“I the Lord search the heart
and examine the mind,
to reward each person according to their conduct,
according to what their deeds deserve.”  (Jeremiah 17:9-10)

Wait. 

What? 

That’s not the stuff of modern injunctions to ‘Follow your good heart’. And yet it is God’s word. It seems that even the heart of the hard-done-by Qu Yuan was not pure. I know that my heart is far from pristine.

Language and Culture- an Aside

In English, we read in Jeremiah 17:10 that the Lord searches our hearts and examines our minds. 

In Chinese, we read that the Lord searches our hearts and examines our 肺腑 – literally lungs and internal organs, though metaphorically that means ‘the bottom of our hearts’.  

In Hebrew, we read that the Lord searches our hearts and examines our כְּלָי֑וֹת (kə·lā·yō·wṯ), which literally means kidneys, though metaphorically means minds. 

Hearts, minds, lungs, kidneys and any other parts of the body that represent what is truly ‘us’, the Lord knows it all. 

Comfort or Calamity?

Under the gaze of the holy One, who can stand? To the one who stands in his own strength and uprightness, this examination must surely end in calamity.

And yet, thankfully, the words about God examining our hearts and minds come in the broader context of Jeremiah 17. We learn there that the person who throws him or herself upon God’s mercy is preserved. 

God sees our hearts and accepts us, despite ourselves, when we trust in him. 

God sees us just as we are. No pretences are needed. False bravado is pointless. External sweetness and light won’t conceal internal negativity and knots. 

Not only that, but the Bible is full of precious promises about the transformation of our hearts and minds as we look to our Lord.

Hope

On this day, many people in Asia commemorate the patriotism of an ancient tragic character with a good heart. Despite his integrity, Qu Yuan was doubted and exiled by his beloved king. He died without hope. 

In contrast, modern Christians live as citizens of the kingdom of heaven. Our beloved king sees our confused hearts and accepts us just the same. We may well die, but we die with hope of a future resurrection, of imperishable spiritual bodies, and of pure hearts.  

There is still a battle waging, but ultimately, our king is victorious. Even now, he sees our hearts … our minds … our kidneys … our lungs … our organs … our all … and still he loves us and saves us. 

That’s worth celebrating! 

Change. It never stops. Is it possible that the rate of change is faster than ever these days? The internet, for example, has revolutionised many of our lives. Communications – written, spoken, face-to-face, one-to-one, in community and one to many – all this often happens over the internet now. Banking and payments, books, movies, TV shows, music to listen to, music notation to play, maps, notes, games, access to almost unlimited information, educational tools, coffee shop loyalty cards and more … all this is available on my phone wherever I have internet access. Also on my phone are the ever-watching eyes of big companies who want my business.

God, however, doesn’t change. That’s reassuring.

Our unchanging God is constantly at work in our ever-changing world, though. I’ve been reminded of late of the importance of keeping spiritually current as we participate in his work. Let me elaborate, referring to Mark 3:20-35 along the way. 

Pursuing Purity

I feel sorry for those teachers of the Law back in Jesus’ day. Jesus blasted them, and rightly so. But they tried so hard…….. I’m looking at the sorry tale recorded in Mark 3:22-30 as I write this blog post.

The people of first century Israel had learnt their lesson … finally. After centuries of repeatedly turning from God to idols, being divinely disciplined, eventually repenting and a remnant returning to God and to the land, they had finally got their act together, or so it seemed. No more idolatry. The Law of God was kept to the nth degree. The teachers of the Law held prestigious positions in society, reflecting the value that the people placed on their role as guardians of the faith. 

Then along came Jesus. “New wine in new wineskins,” he said (Mark 2:22). He “… went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. ‘The time has come,’ he said. ‘The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!’” (Mark 1:14b-15)  The people were mesmerised, exclaiming, “A new teaching – and with authority!” (Mark 1:20) Jesus evicted evil spirits, healed people, claimed to be divine in roundabout ways … and made enemies amongst the religious leaders of the day. 

That’s not the way God had worked in the past. Oh yes, Jesus had power. That was indisputable. But, the religious leaders surmised, it couldn’t be of God. This left them with the so-very-wrong conclusion that earned them Jesus’ scathing indictment: “… but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven; they are guilty of an eternal sin” (Mark 3:29). 

Those religious leaders had become so caught up in their vital roles as preservers of the purity of God’s people that they had lost focus of the God they served.

What about us? Do I ever find myself so caught up in a God-given role that I lose focus of the God I serve? Do I ever miss being a part of what he is doing here and now because I am committed to preserving the way he did things in the past? 

I wonder, too, how these questions relate to brothers and sisters in a country I love in which Christian ministry is increasingly limited. Or to my role as a middle-aged woman with various limitations as opposed to the bouncy young woman who first visited that country 25 years ago.

One thing I do know is this: we need to keep spiritually current. May I keep my focus on my Lord, regularly taking time to put aside my own agenda and worship him, seeking him as each opportunity, threat or change of circumstance comes along. 

A Mother’s Heart

Oh Mary, dear Mary, how your heart must have throbbed the day your son – your special son – ignored you. It seems, even, that he disowned you that day. Ouch.

I’m thinking, of course, of the time that Jesus’ mother and brothers tried “… to take charge of him, for they said, “He is out of his mind’” (Mark 3:21).  Rather than go along with their well-meaning but oh-so-wrong intentions, Jesus identified those sitting around him that day as his mother and brothers. They were family, he said, and not his blood relatives waiting outside the door (Mark 3:34). 

Mothers know best, right? Not only that, but Mary was hand-picked by God to raise the Messiah. Mary knew God, and had a good track record of submitting to and participating in his work.

And yet, on this occasion, she lost focus. 

Mary was Jesus’ mother … but Jesus was Messiah. Mary was so focused on her God-given role that she lost focus of what matters … the work of her son, our Lord. 

How often do I focus on the role God has given me rather than God himself? I love my role and value my calling. I have a reasonable track record in my walk with God. That’s all well and good. But may living out that role never get in the way of focusing on my Lord. May it never be that my futile efforts to bring about what I think is best be out of line with what he is doing right here right now. 

Don’t worry. I’m not about to quit my role or anything. I’m just challenged to stay focused on him and be open to new ways he is working.

Devoted Disciples

“Then he (Jesus) looked at those seated in a circle round him and said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother’” (Mark 3:34-35). 

Who was seated around Jesus in that emotion-charged house, outside which Jesus’ mother and brothers waited, and inside which Teachers of the Law steamed with indignation at Jesus’ stunning rebuke?

Most likely, it was Jesus’ 12 disciples. In Mark’s gospel, we read of Jesus choosing them from amongst all those who followed him right before this scene in the house. (See Mark 3:13-19.) We read, “He appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them out to preach and to have authority to drive out demons” (Mark 3:14-15).

Oh, those were the heady early days of the devoted disciples’ ministry. That was the season for them to ‘be with him’. The years ahead would be challenging. Judas Iscariot would betray Jesus, though his remorse would be pathetic and tragic. Peter would deny him though he would be restored. Later, Peter would be led unwillingly to his death in a way which would glorify God. Interestingly, the only disciple who seems to have lived a long and relatively settled life (until exile near the end) is the very one to whom Jesus entrusted the care of his beloved mother. Ah … Mary … I’m so pleased. 

But all that was yet to come. At this stage in the tale, the twelve sat around Jesus watching, wondering, waiting…… And it was them that Jesus called family. Even, it must be noted, the one who would betray him. 

What about us? I don’t know what is ahead, but I do know that, as we do God’s will, Jesus calls us ‘family’. And that massively motivates me to spend time in worship and prayer, looking to him to show me what he is doing in this day and hour, and asking how he would have me work with him. 

Doing God’s Will

What does it mean to do the will of God? That is a topic for books rather than a paragraph at the tail end of a blog post. For now, let me just say that being still from time to time and looking to God for direction in the busyness of life is important.

The Teachers of the Law in Jesus’ day did things as they had always been done. And in so doing, they missed the coming of the very God they strove so ardently to serve.

Mary, mother of our Lord, was focused on her God-given mothering role. So much so that she unwittingly sought to stand in his way and keep him from his work.

The disciples, however, at this point in the story, were simply focused on Jesus, following him step-by-step in his work of preaching and powerful actions. And, that day, at least, they had it right. 

What about us?  

Living by faith. It sounds grand and adventurous. And, in a sense, it is. But in another way, it’s an ordinary day-by-day process.

‘Father Abraham’ was the topic of an English class I taught recently. I, for one, was encouraged and challenged by a fresh look at this extraordinary and yet somewhat ordinary man who lived four millennia ago. We took Hebrews 11:8-19 as our text, using the New International Reader’s Version. That version is ideal for English language learners because it minimises the hurdle of uncommon words and convoluted sentences. 

Let me share with you a few insights which I gained from our lesson on this ‘hero of the faith’. I know that the students learnt lots of new vocabulary. They had opportunities to use English in real communication. I wonder if they learnt as much as I did , though, about living by faith? I wonder, too, if you will glean a few fresh insights by reading along as well?

Foundations

It’s the lack of indoor plumbing which would disgruntle me. Not that they likely even had indoor plumbing back in Mesopotamia (modern-day Iraq) where Abram spent his first 70 years. Hebrews 11, however, makes a bigger deal about the foundations of the city dwellings Abram called ‘home’ back then. (Abraham and Sarah were known as ‘Abram’ and ‘Sarai’ for most of their lives.)

In response to God’s call, Abram moved his family from homes with foundations into tents. It wasn’t just a camping trip. No – this was to become the ‘new normal’. They would be nomads for the rest of their lives. Mostly, anyhow. 

There were a few occasions along the way when various family members moved into sturdy houses. Lot and his family settled in the city of Sodom for a season. That ended badly. Very badly. Abram took his beautiful wife and settled in Egypt for a bit, during which time Sarai was ‘invited’ to live in the palace as a guest of the Pharaoh himself – an invitation which couldn’t be refused (Genesis 12). That the elderly couple’s half-truths resulted in a similar scenario being played out again at the invitation of another king (Genesis 20) hardly seems appropriate for a hero of the faith. The ‘stuff-ups’ made by Abraham and Sarah give me hope that my relationship with God isn’t based on me having it all together. 

The contrast between the settled lifestyle Abraham enjoyed the first half of his life and the nomadic nature of the second half makes me think of the lifestyle of Tibetans. Traditionally, Tibetans have either been either nomads or settled farmers. The two groups are fairly distinct. These days, however, there is also a significant Tibetan diaspora living outside the country, hoping vehemently to return one day to their homeland. 

Abraham went from being a settler in a house with foundations to a nomad living in tents. This was not because it was thrust upon him, but because of a call from God himself. He left his home willingly, but according to the writer of the letter to the Hebrews, his focus was on becoming a city-dweller again one day. We catch a glimpse of the city that he longed for in the book of Revelation.

Kids

It doesn’t make sense. How can you be promised descendants and a nation when you’re an old man and childless? Yet he was. Believing that promise made Abraham a hero of the faith. 

Not that he was perfect in the way he believed. Going along with his wife’s plan of how to bring about God’s promised miracle by their own means wasn’t one of his smarter moves. The resulting dysfunction in his family was crazily messy, though it did result in a precious revelation of God. The Creator revealed himself to Abraham’s second wife as ‘El Roi – the God who sees me’ (Genesis 16).

Finally, Isaac was born – the child whose name means ‘laughter’. At the time, the aged Sarah said, “God has given laughter to me. Everyone who hears about this will laugh with me” (Genesis 21:5 NIRV). I envy the blessing bestowed on the elderly lady, but don’t envy the ensuing complications in her life. And can you imagine what Sarah had to say when she heard details after Isaac got home from the expedition with his father to make that special sacrifice to God … the time when Isaac so almost WAS that sacrifice? What would a child psychologist make of that experience? 

In all that, Abraham and Sarah were held up as heroes of the faith. Once again, I am reminded that living by faith means trusting in Almighty God … but it doesn’t mean that I need to have my act together. I want to, and I try to, but I’m as human and complicated as elderly Sarah was. Yet, despite our imperfections, like Abraham’s rejected and dejected second wife, we are also known by El Roi, the God who sees us. 

Thinking and talking

The way Abraham and Sarah thought and talked about God’s promises demonstrated their faith (Hebrews 11:13b-16a). Thoughts precede action. Just ask any dieter about the importance of managing our thoughts if we are to gain control over what goes in our mouths. In more important matters, not only did Abraham and Sarah keep their thoughts fixed on what God had promised, but they also talked in a way that reflected their mindset. 

The Bible teaches us a lot about the importance of managing our thought lives. We are told to meditate on the Law of God (eg Psalm 1:2), to renew our minds (Romans 12:2), to think about things that are good (Philippians 4:8) and more. It seems, from what the writer to the Hebrews has to say about it, that this discipline of thinking godly thoughts and talking out of that mindset is a key aspect of living by faith.

How is my thought life? Some days, it doesn’t take much for me to spin into a frazzle of worry about money or health or frustration at the mess at home or my inability to achieve perfectionistic goals. While such matters will likely always hover around the periphery of my thought life, I want to make an unswerving focus on God the centre. I hope that the way I talk even about money matters or health concerns or mess or unmet expectations will reflect my relationship with El Roi, the God who sees me.

Abraham and Sarah didn’t have it all together, but even in the messiness of life, they lived by faith. As heroes of the faith, they are models for us fallen, broken people, for we have also been invited into a relationship with the God of Abraham, the God who sees us. As we bumble through life, sometimes getting a little off track but drawn back by a faithful and patient God time after time, may we also live by faith and so be examples to others who come after us.

I had a hap on the train today. No, not a nap, but a hap. 

‘Hap’ – it’s an old English word, coming from the same root word as ‘happen’. I usually like a modern translation of the Bible, but was recently taken with the term ‘hap’ as used in the King James version of the story of Ruth. (We studied Ruth at Bible Study Fellowship last week, which is why it is fresh on my mind.) 

As for Ruth, the KJV says that “… her hap was to light upon a part of the field belonging unto Boaz….” (Ruth 2:3 NIV). When I read more about the original language, I learned that there are two Hebrew words in that passage which could be translated as ‘It just so happened’. Doubling up these words emphasises the providential nature of Ruth’s hap. In fact, her hap would change the course of her life and of history, for the man in whose field the foreigner scavenged grain would become her kinsman-redeemer, husband and, along with her, the ancestor of kings and of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

A modern hap

I love Ruth’s story. My own hap today was a little bit special too. I am writing up this story to remind myself again of the hand of our providential God in my own life and to encourage you to look out for it in your life too. 

Today’s hap involved a random encounter on the train with someone I know only slightly. Let’s call her ‘Drolma’ for anonymity’s sake.

Drolma is Tibetan. There are not many Tibetans in Melbourne, and those that are here are scattered around the city. It’s not like Sydney where most live in the one area. 

I had decided to take the train to a meeting today rather than drive because I was feeling a bit overwhelmed with a lot happening this week. You can double your time on the train with reading or doing digital things on your phone, plus get steps on your FitBit besides. Which is why I had left home in plenty of time for the 8.40am train, taking with me a big fat book that I am slowly slowly plowing through. I got there ten minutes early but my train was a little late, then delayed until further notice, then finally, it was cancelled. 

Grump, grump, grump went the middle-aged lady with the big book. Yes, that was me. I had things to do and places to go and people to see. This wasn’t the start to the day that I had planned. 

Frustrations

I know in my head that my plans aren’t actually that important. Not in the big scheme of things, they’re not. I’ve written at length about this before. But I still tense my shoulders and furrow my brow when my plans are frustrated. 

It’s nothing like the ancient tale of woe that Ruth lived day in and day out in the lead-up to her hap. Perspective is hard to maintain some days.

A train finally came, half an hour after I had arrived at the station. I could have driven to my destination in that time and here I was, still back at the starting point. Eight carriages, each with three doors. I picked one at random. 

Two stations later was where I experienced the hap.  Drolma just happened to get on the same train … on the same carriage … entering through the same door near which I sat. “Long time, no see,” she commented. 

What made this a hap? 

Part of my stress for the day was that I had arranged to start back with Tibetan lessons this afternoon after a lengthy hiatus. I felt unprepared. I have been reviewing, reviewing and reviewing some more, but there is so much to remember.  I forget so quickly. 

“Please, Lord,” I had been praying this week, “If learning this language is a good use of time and money, could you affirm that? And if not, would you show me that too?” 

I don’t think I’m reading too much into it when I say that I sensed God’s hand in the way that Drolma got on ‘my’ train this morning. Something similar happened three years ago too, actually, when I first started Tibetan lessons and ran into her husband at a petrol station right after praying for wisdom about spending time and money on learning this language. 

In the case of the ancient Moabiteness, Ruth, the Bible says that “… her hap was to light upon a part of the field belonging unto Boaz….” (Ruth 2:3 NIV).

In the case of this modern Australian, my hap was to light upon a particular woman in a particular section of a particular carriage of a particular train … a woman whose people God has put on my heart.  I am taking this ‘hap’ as affirmation that I’m spending my time wisely.

Ruth’s story had a ‘happily ever after’ ending. I wonder where mine will end? 

Watch this space. 

The rainbow stretched from Kilsyth to Lilydale (both suburbs of Melbourne’s outer east).  

The original story is complicated. This little tale of how it intersects with the life of an ordinary Australian woman today is a tad convoluted too. I hope you enjoy it and find it thought-provoking, just the same. 

Perseverance

Two days ago, I taught a lesson about Noah to a class of English language learners. My aim was that these theology students from Asia would grasp vocabulary specific to that story and which is also applicable to church settings in Australia in which they currently serve. Such words included ‘righteousness’, ‘deliverance’ and ‘covenant’.

I have been challenged yet again recently to persevere with the dream of writing, but struggle to make time for writing a priority. This blog post on Noah, for example, was outlined yesterday but then I ran out of time to write it up. I then planned to write it up early this afternoon after a morning full of activities, but again, the time slipped away.

It was late afternoon and time to head out and meet a friend for a walk. I got in the car, looked up at the black sky, and went back inside for an umbrella. 

Umbrella by my side, I got into the car, backed out of the carport and drove towards Lilydale, a neighbouring suburb.

Halfway there, mulling over Noah’s story, this rainbow (pictured) appeared in the sky. The photo doesn’t do it justice. It was a brilliant full rainbow with a second arc faintly visible above it. I pulled up for a photo but was not in a position, quite literally, to capture in all in one shot.

It’s not all about me, I know.  But, from my perspective, the rainbow suggested a divine prompt that it is time for me to write up a few thoughts about Noah.

Looking Back

Rainbows are a sign of the covenant God made with the earth. Never again will our Creator destroy the earth by flood. 

The earth was a wicked place back then. We think it’s a mess now, and in many ways it is, but that’s nothing new. Back in Noah’s day,  God’s heart was grieved. My English language students wrote down the noun ‘grief’ and the verb ‘to grieve’. They could be useful words in pastoral work.

As an aside, I wonder what I do … what we do … that grieves God today? Ephesians 4 (particularly the second half of the chapter) suggests that we grieve his spirit whenever we live in ways which are not not right in his eyes. 

To be fair, the depravity of Noah’s generation wasn’t entirely their fault, as I understand Genesis 6. Beings from the spirit world had intermarried with humans. Their descendants were giants and heroes of the day – people to be admired.  (‘Descendants’ was another new word for my students.) 

In that context of wickedness, we meet Noah, ‘a preacher of righteousness’ according to 2 Peter 2:5.  

‘Righteousness’ is a rather important word for theological students. I told them that Noah kept urging his peers, “Do what is RIGHT!” Right – righteous – righteousness … breaking words down to their roots is a helpful strategy for English language students.  

Noah’s peers did not listen. And they were judged. ‘To judge’ (verb), ‘a judge’ (noun) and ‘judgement’ (noun) were added to the list of new vocabulary, the latter somewhat complicated by different spelling conventions in British and American English. 

The rain poured down and underground waters gushed up. The verbs ‘to pour’ and ‘to gush’ were added to the list of new words in our lesson.  Every living thing on the face of the earth was wiped out. 

‘Wiped out’? Most students were familiar with the verb ‘to wipe’. But, they asked, what is the difference between ‘to wipe out’, ‘to wipe on’, ’to wipe off’, ’to wipe away’, ‘to wipe up’ and just plain old ‘to wipe’? 

Birds – a potential tangle for translators

I had the students tell me the story of Noah’s ark before I taught what I expected would be new to them. I wanted to see what English words they already knew and I wanted them to genuinely need the vocabulary they were about to learn. 

To my surprise, the students informed me that, after the floodwaters began to recede, Noah first sent out a crow, then later a pigeon. I tried to gently correct the students. 

“He sent a raven first – a big black bird.”  

“No, it was a crow.”  The students were adamant.

It turns out that, in the Chinese version of this tale, the word used – 乌鸦 – can be translated as both ‘crow’ and ‘raven’.  Some of the students were familiar with the English word ‘crow’, but none had yet come across the word ‘raven’. 

Being a bird that eats dead creatures as well as being a bird of prey, I tend to think negatively of ravens. In Tibetan culture, however, both crows and ravens symbolise good luck. I wonder what connotations, if any, ravens had in Noah’s day. That train of thought is a rabbit trail not to be pursued in an English lesson, fascinating though it be. 

As for pigeons and doves, I have encountered this confusion before. Again, in Chinese, the one word 鸽子 refers to both pigeons and doves. Having had a flying pigeon do its business right over my head in a city square in Sydney, I think of pigeons as dirty little creatures. In Chinese cities twenty or thirty years ago, ‘Flying Pigeon’ bicycles were ubiquitous. I suspect that the name ‘Flying Pigeon’ was intended to bring to mind an image of graceful birds swooping about town. Though I rode a Flying Pigeon bicycle for years, that imagery never worked for me. 

These tangents weren’t relevant in the English lesson but they are important for translators of the Bible to consider. What a challenging but purposeful role Bible translators have.

A Sign and a Cycle

The story of Noah finishes with hope and a future. 

After surviving cramped conditions for over a year, some animals were finally released only to be sacrificed by Noah as burnt offerings. And God was pleased. He made a covenant (yes ‘covenant’ was a new word for the students) with Noah, his descendants and the earth.

The rainbow image was a lovely way to finish this story. Yet it was not just an end but also also a beginning. Sadly, in just this first post-flood generation alone, sin would again tarnish God’s creation. Down, down, down humanity would spiral … again. 

The story of Noah illustrates a pattern repeated over and over in Scripture. It is a pattern of judgement, mercy and deliverance. ‘Deliverance’, a new word for most students, comes from the verb ‘to deliver’, a word with which the students are more familiar. Australia Post delivers parcels … sometimes. Mothers deliver babies. Something is taken from one setting to another and given a new start. Noah’s family were delivered. We enjoy deliverance too if we trust Jesus as Lord and Saviour. 

Ultimately the story of Noah points to Jesus. He not only delivers us for a season, but he will restore all creation, including things on earth and in the heavens.  The apostle Peter has some interesting points to make about just how the story of Noah pointed to Jesus. Turn to 1 Peter 3:1 8-22 and 2 Peter 2:5 if you are interested. I am fascinated by it, but glad that, as a mere English language teacher, I am not expected to understand it fully, let alone explain it. Next week, we will consider English vocabulary related to the rite of baptism. It is a natural segue since Peter likens the floodwaters of Noah’s day to the waters of baptism.

Today, as I admired the gorgeous double rainbow, I was reminded afresh of the fact that, like Noah, we serve a powerful God who is holy and pure and yet still perseveres with us. 

And that, in any language, is amazing. 

Red, gold and brown leaves flutter to the ground. This is my favourite season here in Australia.  Although I could do without the brown leaves in my backyard, whose only redeeming feature is the satisfying ‘crunch’ they make when you walk on them. 

落叶归根 – luo ye gui gen – falling leaves return to their roots.  Taken literally, this Chinese proverbs describes the way that dead or dying leaves, fallen from a tree, break down and provide nutrients for the roots of the very same tree. Figuratively, it describes the way that elderly people sometimes want to go back to their homeland so that they can die there. 

Homeland … where is my homeland? In China, most people could tell you the name of their 老家 – lao jia – ancestral home. Not so for most Australians. In one sense, I’m a tiny bit confused about where my roots are. But in another sense, I’m as clear as can be. As Christians, our home is in heaven (Philippians 3:20). “Absent from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8) … what hope we have! 

The 50+ checks

“I’m having the 50+ checks right now,” the lady on the exercise machine next to me at the gym-for-middle-aged-women said today. (That’s not the name of the gym, of course. It just describes it.)  The rest of us looked puzzled. “Boobs and bowels,” she explained in blunt Aussie terms.  It turns out that she is waiting anxiously for a phone call that she hopes never to receive. Her friend had received a telephone call after a routine mammogram and gone on to months of potentially life-saving treatment. My exercise buddy, however, is hoping for a simple email to say, “Thank you for coming to the breast-screening clinic recently. We are pleased to let you know that……”

I know what it is like to wait anxiously for phone calls you don’t want to receive. Even now, every time the phone displays ‘No caller ID’, my heart both plummets and pounds. That used to be the hospital calling to say, “We need another test,” or “The scans are not clear,” or “This is the next stage of your treatment plan.”  

Whether it is now or later, the fact is that all of us will one day be like the leaves that fall from deciduous trees in autumn. The question is whether we fall in a blaze of colour and glory, or whether we shrivel up and drop off like the the crunchy bits of brown that litter my porch these days. 

An Aged Gent

We rarely think of the ancient King David as an aged gentleman, but that he was at the end of his life. It was then that he put quill to parchment … or fingers to lyre strings … or dictated words to a scribe … or whatever they did back then, and left us with Psalm 71. This is a psalm which portrays someone going out in a blaze of colour. 

That wasn’t to say that he was confident. He wasn’t. He was nervous. He was anxious. He didn’t try to pretend that everything was okay. But in the midst of it all, he consciously turned his focus to his Maker.  

King David wasn’t nervous about calls from medical professionals. His concerns were more immediate. As his physical abilities decreased, he was afraid that his enemies would conspire to kill him. It might have even been his son, Absalom, whom he feared would try to ‘knock him off’. 

Psalm 71 is one of those ‘bulls eye’ psalms, the ‘bulls eye structure’ more formally called a ‘chiasm’, where similar ideas form rings around a central focus. It is a form of poetry where the matching concepts and structure reflect or contrast one another throughout. Pull out a Bible, if you’re interested, and see what I mean. I will list just a few key words from each section below.

A summary of Psalm 71

Going out in a blaze of colour

King David went out in a blaze of colour. Thinking back to the analogy of autumn leaves, he was like a tree to which photographers flock. Not for him an ignominious end. 

Of course, very few of us have the luxury of leaving the legacy of poetry and kingdom that David did. However, all of us can echo similar sentiments of trust in this same faithful God. All of us can pour out our hearts, laying before God our concerns in the autumn of life, and at the same time constantly coming back to a place of confidence in our Creator. 

‘Go out in a blaze of colour’ is easy advice to give when I’m a 50+ middle-aged woman who has ‘passed’ round one of the 50+ tests. It’s easy advice to give when the chapter of dreaded ‘no caller ID’ phone calls is, God willing, behind me. But it’s not me giving the advice. It’s King David. 

Kingly advice

King David left us with a model prayer for those in the autumn of life. The sentiments are as relevant now as it was back then, though the specifics vary. I often admire autumn leaves these days. And I find myself reflecting on the recent passing of not just one but several godly people who each went out in a blaze of colour. ‘This was her favourite coffee shop,’ I think. ‘That chair is where that dear man always sat,’ I note. They exemplified Psalm 71 in the autumn of life in glorious colour.

Others I know are going through exceptionally tough times even now as they await heaven – difficulties right up there with rebel sons contriving to overthrow one’s kingdom. In their tough times, I see them living out Psalm 71 in the autumn of life. I honour the God they serve because of their example. They are going out in a blaze of colour.

God is faithful. We needn’t pretend that we have it all together, but at the same time, we mustn’t lose sight of the faithful God in whom we take refuge.

落叶归根 – falling leaves return to their roots. When the autumn of my life comes, may I, too, return to my Creator in a blaze of colour. And may that be true for each of us whose citizenship is in heaven.

“It seems to me that if something comes across your path three times in a row, God is probably in it.”  This gem of wisdom, offered by a godly man a few weeks ago, has been echoing in my mind recently. Is there something particular which God is wanting me to understand right now, or is there just an inordinate number of feathers that keep, almost literally, coming across my path these days? 

Feather 1 – from a cockatoo

It was just lying there on what should be grass in my backyard. It was two days before I went away for a l-o-n-g stretch of meetings.  I had a sixth sense that God was behind its placement and timing, and was delighted, after posting the photo below on Facebook and asking about its asymmetry, to realise that it is a flight feather. After 3 1/2 years of taking life fairly gently for one reason or another, perhaps it is time for action again? Or was I reading too much into the presence of a simple feather in the backyard?

A prayer collage of feathers 

Have you ever done a prayer collage?  We sometimes do them at a particular gathering of friends, and I always find that God speaks to me as I stop and prayerfully flick through magazines. I had anticipated that this most recent collage, which I put together early in February, would feature fluffy feathers. I had been collecting magazines for the activity and had spotted a page which I fully intended to use. Only somebody else got to it first. The page of soft falling feathers was no longer available. You can see how the collage ended up. It is filled with other birds instead, most of which are soaring (though one is showing off). Significant? 

(Interestingly, I have since learned that the feathers used by birds for visual courtship are also flight feathers. They’re used for flirting rather than flight.) 

Feather 2 – a failed photo

After returning from that long trip, one of my first priorities was to take a half day retreat and pray about the year ahead. While doing that up in the hills near home, I happened upon a beautiful kookaburra sitting on a shelter. I crept closer, clicking my camera. Without a sound, the kookaburra took off, soaring through the trees. Would I have caught the perfect picture, I wondered, as it soared past the camera?  My shoulders sagged when I looked at the image. The kookaburra was too close and I had zoomed in too far. All I had were its wing feathers. 

Then, it struck me. Perhaps this was also from God. Flight feathers……

Feather 3 – from an Eastern rosella 

Two days after the failed photo episode, I had finally finished unpacking and sorting through the myriad of receipts, scribbled notes and candles and soaps (potential small gifts) from my recent trip. I had taken the collage, trimmed it to size, and pinned it to my notice board. As I did so, I had taken the first feather (the cockatoo feather, above) and added it to the picture. “Is this really of you, Lord? One more flight feather that I can’t miss would be lovely if it is you speaking……”. 

The brightly coloured feather was literally right in my path the very next day. I wasn’t looking for it. I wasn’t even in a park or bushland. I was simply walking up a driveway to a friend’s front door. And there it was. Asymmetrical. Beautiful. Almost demanding to be taken home and treasured.

Pinions

This morning I spent time in Isaiah 40:31. I learned that the Hebrew word  אֵ֖בֶר (’ê·ḇer), usually translated ‘wings’ in that verse, literally means ‘pinions’.  When I looked up the meaning of the word ‘pinion’, I found that … yes, you guessed it … a ‘pinion’ is the outer part of a bird’s wing, including its flight feathers.  

In fact, some people clip the flight feathers of big birds specifically to prevent them flying away. The feathers will grow back after the birds moult but it effectively grounds them for a time.

In contrast, “… those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings (pinions) like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint.”  (Isaiah 40:31 NIV)

How can we soar on wings like eagles? 

How do we renew our strength? How do we soar on wings like eagles? What is the secret to being a middle-aged woman who is full of energy, enthusiasm and action? Eat more vegetables? Take up jogging? Get to bed early each night? 

Isaiah clearly states, “The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom” (Isaiah 40:28 NIV).  It is this God who “gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak” (Isaiah 40:29).  

It’s not about what I do. It’s all about who God is. 

There is something I can do, though. Hope. Isaiah goes on to say that “… those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.”  (Isaiah 40:31 NIV)

But HOW do I ‘hope in the LORD’?  The next verse, addressed to nations, rather than individuals, finally, at long last, gives me something specific that I can DO. 

“Be silent before me, you islands! Let the nations renew their strength!” (Isaiah 41:1a NIV).

Silence. 

Contemplative Prayer

Contemplative prayer is something I have been exploring, as you may know from earlier blog posts. And today, as I look at what are now ‘my’ feathers mounted on my collage, I sense that God is reminding me that everything I do and am is only because of him. Times of silence before God is the best I can contribute. 

I very much hope that there is a season of productivity and ‘soaring’ ahead for me. I have a sneaking suspicion that there is. Time will tell. 

One thing I do know for certain is this. When we put our hope in the LORD, the Creator, the Untiring, Unchanging and All-knowing One, we can’t go wrong. 

And in the meantime, I intend to do all I can to make the soaring happen. ‘All I can do’  isn’t terribly energetic. It is just this:

Silence

Romans 12:1-2 “Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…..”

Bodies and minds. That’s what is on my mind as I sit in a Thai coffee shop today. An thin European lady, wrinkled, shoulder-length white hair pulled back in a pony tail, dressed in a simple cotton dress with butterflies printed all over it, sits outside smoking. Her husband (I presume) orders their coffees and walks around the art cafe taking photographs of all the decorations. I’m more taken with the beautiful plants scattered about the cafe than with the artwork.

“Smoking is not good for you,” I think, though don’t say to the lady. But I can’t talk, as I blob here, casually caffeinating my body. 

Bodies and minds – that is the topic of this blog post. 

In a class on spiritual formation which I took a few years ago, the lecturer kept saying, “It’s what is below the waterline that counts.” He was talking about boats, of course, and the importance of keeping them clean of barnacles and rust. He likened that to our spiritual lives. Today, though, as I sit in this inland city looking out through the roots of plants which are growing in water, it seems to me that the same truth applies. 

It’s all about what is below the waterline, or, usually, for plants, what is below the soil. It’s about our roots. Specifically, it is about how we are rooted in Christ. But I get ahead of myself……

Bodies – our responsibility

In Romans 12:1, Paul writes, ‘Therefore … in view of God’s mercy … offer your bodies as a living sacrifice … to God….”   

It is tempting to write a paragraph on the ‘therefore’. A teacher long ago taught me, “Whenever you see a therefore, look to see what it is there for.”  However, to do so would make this post too long. Suffice to say that Paul has just finished writing a brilliant doxology about God’s mercy before he begins this paragraph. 

Offering my body as a living sacrifice assumes all sorts of visible things. Living a healthy lifestyle is obvious. You won’t see me sitting outside a cafe puffing on a cigarette … but I admit that you may see me inside putting too much sugar and fat into my body. Offering my body as a living sacrifice involves watching my words, sometimes saying what needs to be said even though the topic is something I would rather avoid. It also includes how I use the resources I have been given of health, time, money, education, abilities, networks and more.

The way I act, the words I say, the choices I make – these are all things which are ‘above the waterline’. They are like the stems and leaves of the delightful plants in this cafe. They are visible to anyone who looks. But there is a lot happening below the waterline too. 

Minds – God’s responsibility 

In Romans 12:2, Paul writes, “… be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” He uses the passive tense – transformation is done to us. He does not write, “transform yourself” although we are instructed to “… not conform to the pattern of this world…”. 

It’s like what is happening beneath the waterline for the plants. The roots of the plants – the stuff of the mind – are parts we don’t usually see. But there is a lot happening there. 

The Greek word for what has been translated as ‘transformed’ is ‘metamorphoo’, ‘meta’ meaning ‘change’ and ‘morphoo’ meaning ‘form’. It is the same word from which we get the English word ‘metamorphosis’.  My mind boggles when I think of the way that grubby caterpillars spin cocoons and morph into beautiful butterflies. In the same mind-boggling way, the spirit of God renews our minds, causing us to morph into transformed beings.

The pressure is off … and on

I’m not responsible for transforming my mind. The pressure is off.

I am responsible for offering my body as a living sacrifice to God. The pressure is on.

Of course, thinking and actions are closely related just like the parts of the plant below the waterline (or the soil) can’t be separated from the parts which are above. The roots take up moisture and nutrients to feed the leaves, while photosynthesis occurring in the leaves feed the roots.

As I leave the cafe, I smile at the older lady clothed in a dress covered with a butterfly print. She smiles back. She will never know how her dress sparked my thoughts today, because my mind is part of ‘what is below the waterline’. My smile is all she sees. For a brief moment, our lives connect – two strangers in a city far from home.

Bodies and minds … my responsibility and God’s … what is above and what is below the waterline … these are the matters before me today. In a sense, it is liberating – I don’t have to be responsible for renewing my mind. There is plenty that I am responsible for, though, including writing up this meandering meditation on Paul’s words to the Romans. I wonder if they grew plants in glass jars of water as objects of art back then?  

Romans 12:1-2 “Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…..”

When I was young, I hoped to change the world. 

Then reality hit. 

Don’t stop reading. This isn’t a depressing blog post. 

Creation care

I spent time in Genesis 2 today. Verse 15 stood out to me – God’s commission to Adam, the first man, to care for creation. I wonder what filled his days back then? That was before weeds and bushfires and floods and disease. Did he have to dig the soil, plant, feed, prune, then harvest? Did he have to take flocks and herds from one pasture to another? I wonder how long he had to wait before God gave him a life partner. 

Adam’s days would have been rather repetitive, I imagine. How much more exciting it would have been to build things, to have something more concrete (quite literally) to show for his efforts. Babel was just such a project, undertaken by his descendants … though that venture didn’t quite work out as planned.

The daily grind

This blog post comes from a hotel room. It’s stimulating to be back in Asia, although also a tad bitter-sweet. I am a visitor here now and no longer a resident. And I never did change the world.

A significant part of my work these days involves contributing to the systems that support others to do what I once did. Training – mentoring – information management – resource organisation – clarifying goals and strategies – co-ordinating communication – meetings galore – it’s not the stuff of Facebook updates. 

Do you ever wonder what you do all day? And what you have to show for your hard work? I’m well aware that I’m not alone in this respect. In my case right now, living out of a suitcase gets a bit old too. I’m really looking forward to unpacking in ten days time. (Who is counting?!)

Don’t think that I don’t appreciate my current situation. Most of the time, I do. I get to spend time with special people, travel to interesting places and can even use ‘work time’ to focus on spirituality and writing. It’s a privileged life and I’m grateful to family and friends who make it possible. There have been many highlights over the years. Although I haven’t changed the world, I have had the honour of playing a part in what God is doing.

Non-headline work is valuable

The point of today’s blog post is to encourage myself  (and anybody else who may read along) that non-headline work is valuable. We’re not all like Moses or Paul in terms of our callings.  Many of us have roles more akin to Adam’s. Of course, it is important that we regularly assess what we’re doing and remain accountable to others so that we don’t spin off into blind busyness or mindless meetings. But we need not take on our shoulders the responsibility of changing the world. 

Creation is God’s. Maintaining it is his business. God gave Adam and his descendants, including us, responsibility to care for creation. My particular responsibility just now includes one cat, a few plants and a whole lot of special people with whom I interact with in various ways.

History-shattering it is not, but it is enough.

On this first day of the Chinese Year of the Pig, I have another chance at starting my New Year’s Resolutions.  (I’m only half-joking.). I have also just finished a lovely ‘retreat day’ here in a small but bustling Asian city. It’s a wonderful way to start the Chinese New Year. 

Feeling somewhat inspired to capture the essence of what God is inviting me to me these days, I attempted another haiku:

Rhythms of life

Striving less and Spirit led

Like nature’s rhythms

Rhythms … that shall be my word for the year.  In a sense, it is also my New Year’s Resolution, though that remains officially related to health and fitness. I hope that I can ‘strive less’ and ‘be Spirit led’ even as I establish some healthier habits in that area too.

Rhythms and lights

Here in Chiang Mai, I am enjoying magnificent sunsets most days, though the reason the colours are so spectacular is the little bit of pollution in the air. One scene I snapped shows, in the foreground, traffic lights regulating the flow of what sometimes seems chaotic – cars, songthaews, motorbikes, tuk-tuks and pedestrians intersecting. Behind that, the sun sets, regulating the lives of birds (which flock to sit on particular power lines at sunset), water lilies which open and close with the sunlight, and much much more. 

Yet in contrast to the rhythms of nature and even of traffic, we strive on. Too often we ignore the rhythms of day and night, of six days for work then one of rest, of feasting and fasting and more. We push hard to complete apparently very important tasks, day after day, night after night, tapping away on our computers, rushing from one strategic meeting to the next. 

Who do we think we are? 

Just for the record, I have long been adamant that we need to take a weekly rest day, both out of obedience to God and for our own well-being. Yet I confess that I often strive to do what I think is a good idea or what I sense others expect of me, sometimes taking on too much work because if I don’t say ‘yes’, the whole world will come crashing down … obviously. Crazy.

Striving less and Spirit led

Today was a case in point even as I strived to retreat. Like I said earlier,  I had planned start the Chinese New Year with a retreat day. I have a new book – ‘Pursuing God’s Will Together’ by Ruth Haley-Barton— and I was planning to incorporate some walking with journalling and reading in coffee shops. The day started out fine, with everything going according to plan … my plan, that is.

At midday, I enjoyed a scrumptious lunch, which I interpret as a kind gift from a generous father. I had heard of this place but didn’t know where it was and literally walked right past it today. Then I went to an air-conditioned shopping centre where I knew I could get a fragrant cup of coffee served with a glass of green tea on the side. I settled in for an afternoon of peace and quiet. That was my plan, anyhow.

First it was the Chinese New Year clamour.  Four young men dressed as two lions roamed the centre, while another drummed and one more banged cymbals. They went back and forth throughout the whole centre for a good hour or more. It was entertaining even though I felt the stress levels rising because MY plans to be renewed and revisioned were going haywire. 

Finally, they stopped their noise and the poor hot boys threw off their lion outfits right outside the cafe in which I sat, the drummers coming in for take-away iced coffee. Literally, right at that moment, a lonely American tourist approached my table and struck up a conversation. I considered packing up and moving elsewhere at that point, but a little voice inside me reminded me that I had just this morning repented of striving for what I thought was important rather than looking for the Spirit’s leading. The tourist stayed for almost two hours, talking of family and hopes and disappointments and more. I had no chance to share my faith or say anything I considered of eternal value. Yet I sat there, being friendly. I hope … and sense … that is what God wanted of me. 

Rhythms and leading

Finally, I left the shopping centre and walked down the street. The sun was setting. The birds flocked to their allotted power lines and started up their deafening chatter. (You can tell that they always go there by the white … er … ‘paint’ … on the pavement below. I took care to walk well away from it.) And was reminded again of the rhythms of nature. 

I did not finish the book I intended to study today even as I looked for God’s renewal. I’m only a quarter of the way through it. But do you know what? It doesn’t matter. The sun will still rise in the morning. The birds will go off to do whatever birds do during the day. The water lilies will open their petals. Just as nature’s rhythms continue under the hand of Almighty God, so I too need to cease striving and simply seek to follow his lead. 

I started this piece with a haiku. I would like to finish with some well crafted Ines from one of my favourite hymns – ‘Dear Lord and Father of Mankind’ by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-92). May this be my prayer and perhaps yours too, whatever our days may bring, even and especially when the pace of life picks up and we lose focus and start striving again.

“Drop thy still dews of quietness

Till all our strivings cease;

Take from our souls the strain and stress,

And let our ordered lives confess

The beauty of thy peace.”