Author: Suzanne

Frustration had been simmering just under the surface. The email, a response to a query I’d sent several days earlier, brought the frustration up to a roiling boil. The details are irrelevant. Suffice to say that it wasn’t an issue that involved friends or family. It was just an issue.

I had picked up the email just before I sat down to do my somewhat unusual homework … contemplative prayer. I am required to practise it 3-4 times a week as part of some study on missional spirituality. Usually, I love this homework, but not today. I was too cross to pray. Too distracted. I didn’t want to think wise thoughts. I just wanted to be cranky. A serious sulk beckoned.

My usual way of responding to something like this would be to get busy. Weeding the grass is a satisfying way of handling frustration. Cleaning works too. But today that wasn’t an option. I only had a small window of time for this, my homework. Why, oh why, did I check email first? 

“What is going on in your heart?”  

We are encouraged to ask this question in a prayerful attitude as part of our spirituality practicum. And so, as I entered into a time of contemplation, reverently though without restraint, I took time to tell my heavenly Father just what was going on in my heart. 

“I’m frustrated. Feeling helpless. It’s not fair. They don’t understand. But there is nothing I can do about it.” Actually, Chinese has a an apt phrase to describe what was going on in my heart. My heart was 纠结 (jiujie) – tied up in knots. The character 丝 (si) literally means silk or threads. Can you see the pictograph of two sets of threads lying neatly side by side in the character 丝？ In contrast, can you see how those threads are all tangled in the Chinese word 纠结 ? (If one must be literal, the other parts of the two characters give us an idea of the sounds. Only the threads 丝 are pictographic. But I still think that 纠结 looks like a mess of thread as well as meaning ‘tangled’. Don’t you?) 

It won’t surprise you to know that as I continued with the contemplative prayer practice, somehow, God sorted out that mess of metaphorical threads. By the time I was done, the strands in my heart were lying nicely side by side (丝 ), no longer tangled (纠结). Not only was I feeling better, I was able to pray in a mature and compassionate way for others involved in the issue too.

“What wisdom is God revealing here?”

This is another question we are to encouraged to explore as part of our homework. What springs to mind in this particular instance is Biblical teaching on how we are to manage our thought lives. 

The Bible describes the non-believer as “gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts” (Ephesians 2:3b). Indulging in chips and chocolate to salve the knotted heart as well as succumbing to sulking are examples of my natural responses to frustration. The context of this verse is a description of the person who follows “the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient” (Ephesians 1:2). Yikes!  That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?

Christians are told elsewhere to “take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5b).  That was actually written in the context of teaching about spiritual warfare and the importance of nipping problems in the bud. 

Does ‘making thoughts obedient to Christ’ mean repressing our frustration and anger? A simple glance at many of the Psalms in the Bible make it clear that no, this is most certainly not what it means. Repression would most likely be quite unhelpful. What it does mean, as I understand it, is that we open our hearts to God and let him untangle the threads of our knotted up hearts. 

The end of the story

After this particular prayer time, I felt quite pleased about the change in my heart. I jotted some notes in my journal to that effect. Yes, reflective journalling is another requirement for this practical exercise. 

And then I fired up the computer. 

To my astonishment, there was another email awaiting my attention. It had been sent as a follow-up to the earlier one which had evoked such a reaction. My predicament had already been resolved!

God doesn’t always make everything fall into place just as we want, but he did in this case. I am taking this as a metaphorical ‘gold star’ on my contemplative prayer homework. I hope that my classmates are enjoying some gold stars too. 

May I remember this lesson about letting God unknot the heart long after my essay has been submitted. (That essay will incorporate reflections on our practices of certain spiritual disciplines and show evidence of academic reading on the subject, by the way.) Writing this blog post helps reinforce my reflections too. I hope that these meandering thoughts may also be of encouragement to my fellow believers, for we are all all enrolled in God’s transformation course. Most of us don’t have to submit essays, but we all have practicums to undertake. May we support and encourage each other along the way as we become more like Jesus (2 Corinthians 3:18).

A group of giggling girls lounge on the grass, their limbs gangly, their heads huddled together. “I need a rich husband who likes animals,” I overhear one say. “I want a small farm with horses and dogs.” 

Life doesn’t always turn out as we hope. I think back to when I held similar aspirations, 35 years ago now, although the specifics were a little different. Is it harder being a teenager these days, I wonder, with the pressures of social media, possibilities of cyber bullying and the media’s role models far from good? In different ways during different times, it has always been challenging to be a teenager, full of hopes and fears and flooded with hormones. 

What was it like for teenagers two millennia ago? At this time of year, my thoughts go to Mary, mother of our Lord. I think of choices that were made for her as well as by her. Times were different then, but there are still points of connection with teens of today. 

Thank God for a godly older woman who invested in the teenage Mary at a most crucial stage in her identity formation.

Identity crisis

Mary was clearly a devout Jew, for the angel Gabriel greeted her as “You who are highly favoured!” (Luke 1:26).  Yet just when she thought she knew who she was and what role she was to play in society, a good virgin girl promised to a respectable man, her world was turned upside-down.

In an act of kindness, the angel Gabriel did not leave Mary alone to come to terms with her newly announced identity as mother of God’s own son. As he left, he handed her a lifeline. “Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age….” (Luke 1:36). 

Scripture tells us that Mary immediately gathered a few things and hurried to Elizabeth’s home in the countryside (Luke 1:39). I wonder how much she explained to her parents, her peers or her betrothed before she left. Did she travel alone? What went through her mind along the way? Was she excited? Scared? Numb?

Identity formation

Elizabeth, an older woman, wasn’t seeing anybody. In her womb she carried a precious life … a miracle baby … a divine gift. Scripture records that Elizabeth remained in seclusion for five months  (Luke 1:24) … until breathless Mary burst into her home. 

A devout Jew, the wife of a priest, Elizabeth was sensitive to God at work. As soon as she heard Mary’s voice, she was filled with God’s Spirit and spoke powerful words of affirmation into Mary’s life. Buoyed up by her relative’s prophecy, Mary responded with words that have since been repeated for generations. (‘Mary’s Magnificat’ is what we call those words today.) 

These two godly women, one older and one young, spent an incredibly special period of their lives together – the first trimester of Mary’s pregnancy and the last of Elizabeth’s. I can only imagine that they marvelled together at how God was breaking into history, retelling over and over the stories of how the angel Gabriel first appeared to Elizabeth’s husband and later to Mary, reciting over and over every word he had spoken, and marvelling over and over at the events that followed. In those three short months, simply by sharing life together, Elizabeth perhaps unknowingly grounded her young relative in her identity. She prepared her for all that was ahead – the shame of returning home as yet unmarried but with a bulging belly, the disappointment of being doubted, years of worry, a season of refugee status and excruciating heartbreak.

A timeless pattern

Just as God used an older godly woman, Elizabeth, to build into Mary’s life and affirm her identity as a chosen and favoured servant of the Lord, so he has done for others through the centuries. The Old Testament has many stories of older followers of God building into the lives of younger ones. The apostle Paul would later instruct older Christian women in particular to live exemplary lives and teach younger Christian women to do likewise (Titus 2:3-6). This is a pattern that applies to us in the 21st century too.

I particularly admire Elizabeth’s openness to what God was doing in Mary’s life despite what was going on in her own life. At the time that Mary burst into her house, Elizabeth had been in intentional seclusion, soaking in the wonder of her own unlikely pregnancy.  As an older Christian woman today who enjoys a myriad of meaningful activities, I wonder how God would turn my attention to others and speak into their lives. May I be open to what he is doing and not begrudge the focus it takes from my own matters.

Elizabeth didn’t go looking for Mary. The angel Gabriel all but sent Mary scurrying to Elizabeth. Yet Elizabeth did not treat Mary’s visit as an unwelcome intrusion into her seclusion, but communicated clearly that she saw it as a great honour. Elizabeth was a godly woman and thus primed to recognise God’s hand at work. May I also live as well as I can, not being busy for busy’s sake, open to who God would bring into my life.

I look at that group of 21st century teens huddled together on the lawn, dreaming of the future. None of these teenagers has been sent by an angel to my doorstep for affirmation. But there are other women I spend time with in various contexts. May I be aware of what God is doing in the lives of those around me as well as in my own life. May I live well as a godly woman, not scheduling every moment of every day but leaving room for the unexpected. And as I do so, may I too be given the honour of playing a role in the identity formation of my younger relatives in the Lord. 

‘Father’. This word – this concept – was to be my focus for today’s prayer time. I sat on the porch, the cat by my feet, my phone on the table beside me with the ‘prayer app’ open. Quiet music started. The timer was set for 20 minutes. The air was heavy with humidity. 

The cat was easily distracted by jasmine petals which fluttered down in a sudden breeze. Not so me. Not externally anyhow. Inwardly, thoughts of the day kept fluttering about, but each time I bid them go and returned to focus on my heavenly Father.

A few drops of rain hit the UV-filter-perspex above me. The cat moved to sit right under my seat. Then the heavens opened and sheets of rain crashed to earth. The cat disappeared … no doubt she was cowering under the bed inside. Although I tried to focus on my heavenly Father, it was quite exhilarating to sit on the porch through it all. I was dry and protected. It felt like being kept safe in the embrace of our all-powerful Father even as the world was battered. 

Later, the TV news would report that 31mm of rain (1.22 inches) had fallen in just 15 minutes. Fancy choosing that exact time for my Christian meditation practice. I couldn’t even hear the timer on the prayer app alerting me to the end of the 20 minutes, it was raining so hard.

I had been protected through the storm, but not so my garden. Yet to my astonishment, the flowers in the backyard were more glorious than ever – the rain drops enhanced their beauty. Admittedly, they wouldn’t have survived certain other adverse conditions, but this torrential downpour, at least, hadn’t damaged them. Indeed, they had fared much better than the cars I later saw on the TV news which had been caught in floodwaters, or the trains on the line to my side of the city which came to a grinding halt as tracks flooded. 

How did these delicate flowers survive this storm? The answer, of course, is that they are just part of bigger plants, each of which is rooted firmly in the ground. If Jesus were standing in my garden today, he may well have told a story about my backyard flowers. He did once tell a similar tale in a Middle Eastern setting about a grape vine, likening his hearers to the branches, himself to the vine, and his Father to the gardener (John 15). The point of the story was to urge his listeners to abide in him, to be tended by his Father, and so, in him, to bear much fruit. 

My flowers are tougher than they look. They’re tougher than cars and trains in my area when it comes to coping with a sudden downpour.  When I am abiding in Jesus, cared for by the Divine Gardener, I too am tougher than I appear. 

I prefer to sit under the shelter during summer storms. I like to stay dry. In the metaphorical storms of life, however, that isn’t always possible. Yet come what may, as we abide in Jesus, tended by our Divine Father, we need not fear. Indeed, it may even be that the storms of life will somehow serve to enhance our beauty and so bring glory to our Father.

As part of a current exploration of spiritual disciplines, I’m enjoying ‘centering prayer’. This is an ancient way of praying in which you keep coming back to a key word or phrase and otherwise remain silent in the presence of God. The intention is that you listen to God rather than just talk and talk and talk at him. It’s not as easy as it sounds, but very helpful. 

Yesterday, I practised ‘centering prayer’ using a Scripture which had come up in my daily reading:  “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 40:28b). 

But the fence kept playing on my mind. 

I had set myself up to enjoy a fine Melbourne day as I practised centering prayer. A faded terracotta-red outdoor cushion protected me from the freshly-cut grass. The cat was curled up next to me. My neighbour’s young chickens are learning to cluck, and their calls blended with those of other birds high up in the trees. 

I was ready.

Hands on my lap, palms up, the timer on my phone set so that I can’t wimp out early from this period of worship, I settle down for just ten minutes. All I want to do is to focus on the Lord, the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth, for ten short minutes. 

But I keep thinking about the fence. 

I have five neighbours and share ownership of four fences, despite only having a small backyard. One fence is in danger of falling down. The neighbours and I agree that we want to put off the inevitable for as long as possible. One day, it will need to be replaced. And that won’t be cheap. 

That is not a problem for today. 

So why do thoughts of the fence keep filling my mind? I bid them go away and return again to Scripture. “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.” 

As the ten minutes progress, my thoughts flit between the fence and worship. “The Lord is the everlasting God……”

It occurs to me that the Lord created this little piece of earth on which I sit. He saw this land when it was untouched Australian bushland. He saw this land when local people, who first called this land ‘Mooroolbark’, made this their home, though not for them constraining little blocks with five neighbours and four fences. He saw this land when the current fence was first built. He sees this land now. And he already knows what is ahead. One day, when the Creator redeems all creation, fences won’t be needed. In that day, we will live in harmony with one another, neighbourhood cats included. 

I finish my ten minutes of centering prayer. I may not have practised centering prayer quite perfectly, but I have come out of it with a realigned perspective. Temporary worries such as the rotting fence fade into insigificance. It’s not a big deal, because ‘The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.’ 

There are times when frustrations to our plans serve God’s higher purposes. But there are other times when frustrations are just that … frustrations. We live in a fallen state, and fallenness can be more than a little frustrating. Let me tell you a story about this past weekend……

Months ago, I had communicated with a few friends and family members and come up with a date that worked for me to visit. It was to be a mini-holiday, a long weekend, a few days of renewing special relationships. It wasn’t cheap, but it would be worth it. I booked my tickets.

Frustrated plans

The long-anticipated day arrived. After dropping the cat and car at the home of a family member, I shouldered my backpack and headed to the airport. My stomach rumbled in anticipation … only it wasn’t anticipation. It turned out to be the beginning of a nasty gastro bug. It hit later that night. 

They say that when one tells a story, one should describe the sights, sounds and smells. I’ll spare you. Suffice to say that the first half of my time away was a write-off. 

After a couple of days of staying out of circulation, infecting only my kind host (oh no!), I was pleased to catch up with a couple of sets of friends over lunch in another town. I had planned to stay there two days, but lunch together turned out to be the best we could manage. It wasn’t just me that had been laid low. A member of every family present either had been or soon would be similarly afflicted. And it was not my fault. There is just a lot of gastro around at the moment. 

After three hours on trains and a bus, I arrived first and ordered a drink. The drink was all I got because it turned out that the cafe closed at 12 midday.  Through various messaging apps, we arranged to meet outside another well-known cafe … which turned out to have closed down altogether.  So then we arranged to meet at a third cafe … which actually worked. 

The rest of my trip went somewhat according to plan, and it was good to spend time with some special people. Lunch was lovely once we all found each other. 

Prayers of Intention

As I travelled, I have been using some Christian prayer and meditation practices suggested in a recent class. After that lunch, I left my friends and caught another train. I sat in a a ‘quiet carriage’, eyes closed, breathing deeply, and practising ‘Daily prayers of intention’. (The original questions were shared with us by a wise man, but I won’t credit him here because I’m sure he got them from somebody else originally.) I will share an abbreviated version of these prayers for your edification. I will also share my responses for your entertainment. You’re meant to spend three minutes in each area. The five areas are are in italics and bold, below.

1.  “Lord, I am here. I present myself and my will to you as my act of worship.”

Oh no, no, no,  I wanted a full weekend with friends. I wanted us all to be happy, healthy and bouncy. I don’t want to present my will to God as an act of worship. I want God to act according to my will. 

After a moment of two of muttering, I do the sensible thing and present myself and my will to God as an act of worship. I move on to the second prayer. 

2.  “Lord, I am listening. What words from Scripture or what wisdom has your Spirit been bringing to my attention lately?” 

James 4 springs immediately to mind. It’s not hard to see why. 

“Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.  Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.”     James 4:13-15 NIV

Touché.  

3. “God, whatever I do today, my identity is in you and not in anything else.” 

At least a couple of us were feeling a bit like wrung out dishcloths as we gingerly nibbled toast.  It’s good to know that we don’t need to pretend to be anything other than who we are. And who we are in Christ is very special indeed. Though being with friends sure perks me up! 

4. “Lord, what is going on in my heart right now? Search my heart and reveal anything I need to deal with.” 

I’m a reforming control freak. God is actively transforming me. Nice. I wonder if there is a Facebook support group for reforming control freaks? 

5. “Lord, how can I respond to what you are doing? Show me your will.” 

I determine to share my insights about holding our plans lightly as an element of true wisdom on Facebook. I’m now reflecting further on ‘frustrations in fallenness’ through this blog post. 

As I settle back in my train seat, the angst of upset plans … and upset stomachs … abates. 

A postscript

Although I don’t affirm the way we sometimes downplay the frustrations of living in a fallen state by looking for a silver lining in times of trouble, I do recognise and appreciate very much touches of divine mercy this past weekend. 

First, because of an error on my part, although I visited an aged care home the day I came down with the bug, the dear man I went to visit wasn’t in his room. So I left without seeing him … and potentially infecting him and introducing the bug to the whole home.  

Second, if the bug had developed just a few hours earlier, I wouldn’t have made the trip at all. 

Third, I like to think I kept the germs to myself while travelling. Had it hit halfway there, I would have been an embarrassed public hygiene hazard.

God is good. All the time. Even when things don’t turn out as I plan. 

“Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you.” (Psalm 73:25 NIV)

That verse puts my chocolate cravings into perspective. 

I pray these words of Scripture as I walk around a small local lake. As I begin my walk, I am reminded of the people in heaven whom I am very much looking forward to seeing. And there are a great many things which I desire on earth – success, significance, harmony within my community and, of course, a little bit of chocolate from time to time.

In the same way that I am often short-sighted in how I view ‘reality’, the writer of this psalm was also limited in perspective. The psalmist had been seduced into envying those who seemed to have everything, but in writing this prayer, he was able to refocus.

Through praying this beautiful prayer with the ancient Jews for whom it was first penned and chanted by generations since, our perspectives can also be realigned with reality. We glimpse a bigger picture. God is in heaven. That is what matters. And that fact impacts us, his people here on earth.

(And yes, I know that God is omnipresent. Yet the Bible also portrays him as being in heaven, seated on the throne. The Trinity is a bit of a mind-bender.)

 

Heaven – the place where God reigns

Heaven is referred to throughout Scripture as the place where God rules. This is reflected, for example, in the prayer Jesus taught us which includes the line, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10).

From time to time, glimpses of heaven have been given to mere mortals. Examples include the heavenly courtroom scenes of Job’s day, Jacob’s dream of the heavens opened and a ladder connecting heaven and earth, the 72 elders who glimpsed heaven in Moses’ day, the visions of Daniel and Ezekiel, the heavens opening and a voice speaking at Jesus’ baptism, and of course the visions given in the revelation to the apostle John. 

And there is even more!

 

Hope of heaven

Heaven is a resting place for the spirits of God’s people who have died, and so much more. God’s people are promised that when we are ‘absent from the body’,  we will be ‘present with the Lord’ (2 Corinthians 5:8). Knowing that we go to be with our Lord gives us tremendous comfort. But there is more besides.

The Bible portrays God enthroned in heaven, but promises that Jesus will return to judge the living and the dead and to usher in his new creation. Heaven and earth will be united, just as a bride and a groom are made one. God will rule in his new creation.

It is a mystery to me as to how it all works, but when Jesus rose from the dead in a physical flesh-and-blood body, he guaranteed that we, his people, will one day be given resurrection bodies too. I wonder what we will look like? How will we act? Will we all be super-smart? We will all be healthy and whole.

We will be given meaningful roles to play in that day too. We will be set up for success, assured of significance and we will live in harmony with all creation. Will there be chocolate in the new creation? If so, it will definitely be ethically sourced. 

 

Tricky questions

I don’t know about you, but I have a lot of questions about heaven that the Bible does NOT answer. Whatever happened to Enoch and Elijah who didn’t die but were taken to be with God? What does Scripture mean when it says that many of the ancients were ‘gathered to their fathers’? How could Samuel’s spirit be summoned from the grave by the witch of Endor? How literal was the story that Jesus told of Lazarus and the rich man? What did Jesus mean when he spoke of ‘Abraham’s bosom’? What was Paul was talking about when he spoke of a man going to the ‘third heaven’?  

My questions reflect a limited perspective. Imagine asking the small child of a molecular biologist what her parent does for a job.  Perhaps that is a bit like asking me about heaven.

 

 

In the meantime, as best I can, I will keep focused on the big picture. Heaven is where God reigns. Heaven is a sure hope for God’s people. My hope of heaven impacts how I live in the here-and-now. Although I often lose focus, as a follower of God, I can pray together with the Psalmist and so realign my perspective along with God’s people through the ages: 

“Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you.” (Psalm 73:25 NIV)

“Are you okay?”  I knock on the window of the ute, the motif on its side suggesting that the owner rescues and re-homes dogs. Inside, there is only a silver-haired gentleman. He is slumped over the steering wheel. 

Today was the first of my ‘contemplative walks’ – a spiritual disciple that I’m trying as an experiential part of a subject on missional spirituality. ‘Missional’ means that the ensuing spirituality benefits others and not just myself. I didn’t expect it to be this immediate. 

I had left home with only my water bottle and keys, determined not to be distracted by my phone. I had chosen to meditate on the verse, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10).  I diligently repeated the verse over and over to myself, the first half as I inhaled and the second as I exhaled. I was consciously enjoying the sensation of a cool breeze on my face and noticing my underused leg muscles as I strode down the street. 

And then I saw the ute. The ‘rescue and re-home dogs’ decal caught my attention. But seeing the man slumped over the steering wheel shattered my meditative mood. What should I do? 

I looked around for somebody responsible … or at least somebody with a phone. There was only a group of school kids on the footpath. I figured that I could dash to the medical centre, just down the road, and ask for help … but there was little point in going there until I knew if this was indeed a medical emergency What if he was dead? What if he was inebriated and angry at being disturbed? What if ……?  Deep in my mind, a little voice recited, unbidden, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.” 

*****

I approach the vehicle, conscious that my heart is pounding and that the hairs on my arms are standing on end. 

I knock on the window. “Are you okay?”

The driver jerks up in his seat, his bleary eyes struggling to focus. He attempts to open the passenger door window, but fumbles with various knobs for what seems like an eternity. In reality, it only takes a couple of seconds. 

Finally, the window down, he speaks to me. “What?  Oh – yes – I’m fine. I’m just waiting for somebody.”

Man! He could have put his seat back if he wanted a snooze. That way it would be clear to concerned passers-by that he had chosen to nap. He could have driven around the corner to a more secluded area. Seeing him slumped over the steering wheel like that had scared the living daylights out of me. I stomp away, muttering under my breath … though not God-centred meditative muttering, I’m afraid.

*****

Embarrassed to be watched continuing down the street, I turned the corner. At the same time, I turned my thoughts back to my phrase for the day: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.” Could God have just given me an object lesson, I wondered? Choosing how best to act in that situation was informed, in no small part, by my awareness that the all-knowing one would know how I responded, even if no-one else did. Yes, I had behaved like a responsible citizen, but that, too, comes from a fear of God. Making wise choices about priorities, how I spend my time, and even what I think about all stems from a healthy fear of the LORD.

 

Just the same, I will take my phone on my next contemplative walk. And I will walk around Lillydale Lake, where plenty of others also walk, rather than roam the roads near my home. But walk again I will. Contemplative walking – I like that concept – I like it very much indeed.

Lights in an operating theatre are bright. Nothing is hidden. And that is as it should be. 

Powerful searchlights scan a disaster scene, looking for signs of life. Onlookers who have lost family members desperately hope that nothing is missed in dark corners of collapsed buildings. 

不留黑暗角落 – literally meaning to ‘leave no dark corner’ – is the name of a current policy in the country I often visit. Transparency in every part of life is its purpose. The authorities want to ensure safety and harmony the community. This includes, of course, an absence of civil unrest. Cameras are everywhere – above roads, in every corner of every business, in bus and train stations, in concert halls and anywhere else people gather. The facial recognition technology used to process the data is powerful. Internet use is monitored. Spending patterns are tracked. Nothing is private.

 

Personal privacy is a bigger deal in most Western cultures than it is in over there. Can you imagine the fuss if a political party tried to institute transparency in every part of life in Australia? Some people even choose to opt out of a national body for consolidating health records because of privacy concerns down here. 

The concept of living life transparently is Biblical. Do a search for ‘light’ in the Bible and you will see that Christians are called to walk in the light, to be light and to attract others to the light. While travelling recently, I happened to spend time in Romans 13 – it was where the Bible class I am part of in Australia (BSF) was up to as well. I sat in an Asian cafe with two cameras above me as I watched the lecture from Romans 13 on my ipad. Romans 13 contains the instruction to “… put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armour of light” (Romans 13:12b). 

Interestingly, this particular verse occurs in the same chapter as Paul’s admonition to oppressed Christians in the Roman Empire to honour and respect local authorities (Romans 13:1-7).  I am quite convinced that the timing of this personal study was a divinely ordained detail … one of many … for which I am grateful. In a government-approved church service I attended while there, the preacher also stated proudly that Christians are not the ones the authorities should be worried about in terms of being a threat to civil unrest. Christians build up society, he proclaimed.

Not all Christians in Asia, however, choose to 100% obey local authorities. Many prefer, whenever possible, to remain active in building up God’s kingdom, despite clear direction at times to abstain.  It was like that long ago, too. Back in the days of the early church, the Apostle Peter and others said to authorities who had forbidden them from speaking of Jesus, “We ought to obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). Going back even further, Hebrew midwives in the days of Moses disobeyed the king of Egypt and let baby boys live because they feared God (Exodus 1:17). Moses’ parents were commended by the writer of Hebrews as ‘heroes of the faith’ because they did not fear the king but hid their baby boy as long as they were able (Hebrews 11:23).

What about foreigners who are permitted to live for a time in ‘creative access nations’, where they are welcome as Christian visitors but not as Christian missionaries? Should they carry out activities such as evangelism and discipleship, training of church leaders and building into a local missions movement? Such activities are ‘grey’ at best and forbidden at worst. Should Christians accept funds sourced from overseas for such purposes, knowing that their host country would be most unhappy about this arrangement? Or should Christians stay entirely within the law, practising their own religion within the limits permitted, and seeking only to radiate light within their immediate spheres of influence?

The answer isn’t black and white. In fact, the one point that I am clear about, is that we must not judge one another regarding our choices on this matter. For the record, my conscience requires me to be a very well-behaved and compliant guest when in Asia. I mostly choose to just ‘let my little light shine’. 

Lights in an operating theatre are blinding. Powerful searchlights scan a disaster area. A country I love has a broad-reaching policy of bringing the actions of every person into the light. But all this fades into insignificance compared to the light which burst into our world some 2000 years ago. 

Jesus said, “I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness” (John 12:46 NIV). As his people, we also do our best to ‘appear like lights in the world’ (Philippians 2:15). And as we wait for his return, we say, “Come soon, Lord Jesus, and set our world ablaze with your presence.”

 

So what do computers, shells and hellebores have in common? They all relate to my question last week of, “Who am I?”

 

Computers

My laptop frequently crashes, hangs and freezes these days. Every time it does an automatic update, it gets yet slower. It will barely multitask now, and using an external keyboard and screen – better for people like me who spend hours on the computer each day – is just beyond its ability. Reluctantly, I decided that it is time to upgrade.

I have had positive experiences with both an iphone and an ipad, each of which has lasted for years and been repaired or replaced at minimal cost. In contrast, I have had dreadful experiences of being ripped off and sold pirated software while paying full price for legal versions at a computer market in Asia. More recently, I have felt manipulated by an over-enthusiastic salesman here in Australia who kept bring the prices of goods and services down, down, down if only I would buy NOW.

And so I decided to explore the option of buying a MacBook. They’re expensive. Yes, in the long run, they’re worth it, but the initial outlay is considerable.

But who am I, to splurge sacrificially given funds on a MacBook?

 

Hellebores

This is where those super humble, delicate spring flowers, hellebores, come into the picture. I’ve been studying the verse, “Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you.” (Romans 12:3 NIV) The original readers, proud first-century Roman citizens, were warned against arrogance. But as I gazed at these gorgeous hellebores in modern-day Melbourne, crouching low so I could look up at their bowed heads, it occurred to me that perhaps we can be too ‘humble’. We can refuse to display our gifts in ways which bring God glory and benefit those around us.

Paul instructed those Roman readers to think of themselves with sober judgement, in accordance with the faith God had distributed to each of them. I wonder about myself. I dabble in writing, translation and academia, as well as spend too much time on administration and not enough time on conference calls. All of this requires a computer. A good-quality computer which will last more than a couple of years, resilient when bounced about in a backpack, and which will manage an ergonomically advantageous monitor and keyboard when at home – that is what I need.

Am I being hellebore-like, stifling God-given gifts with inadequate equipment? Oh yes, there are issues I need to work through, including how I manage my time, finances and the dreaded marketing of what I write. But God has provided before. Shells are one way he has cared well for me in the past.

 

Shells

Having taken the plunge and committed to buy a MacBook, the salesman said, “What is your computer’s name? Call it Seniqua. That sounds sassy.” Of course, I needn’t name my computer, but I enjoy a bit of silliness, as the salesman had sensed, and decided to call it ‘Shibboleth’.

Why ‘Shibboleth’? According to www.dictionary.com, ‘shibboleth’ is “… a peculiarity of pronunciation, behaviour, mode of dress, etc., that distinguishes a particular class or set of persons.” This concept relates directly to my research project on how language use is part of the identity of a small Tibetan people group in Asia. ‘Shibboleth’ is also just a fun-sounding word, though rather too grand for daily use, which is why the computer will be called ‘Shelby’ for short.

As an aside, in ancient Israel, the word ‘Shibboleth’ was used to identify one clan from another with disastrous results for outsiders. Read Judges 12:5-6 if you’re interested.

‘Shelby’ … shells … again. Shells have been a theme of this current chapter of life. I’ve written about this before in several blog posts – you can read them on https://developingpassionatepatience.blogspot.com/ if you’re interested.

Shells became a theme just after I moved back to Australia ‘for good’ in 2015 with the generous provision of a car, called ‘Shelly’ because of half its number plate, ‘5HL’. This was followed soon after by various moments involving shells when I sensed God’s presence, reassurance and words of hope before, during and after cancer treatment. In addition to special moments meditating by the ocean when shells have caught my attention, my specialist is named Dr Pearly, the chemo nurse was a vibrant Christian named Shelly and the sweet short-term cross-cultural missionary nurse who often looked after me on the ward was named Shelina. I recently learned that my own second name, Margaret, means ‘Pearl’. Shells are everywhere I look, it seems, and they remind me of God’s provision, plans and purpose for me.

And now I have a computer named ‘Shelby’.

 

Call it what you will, but I’m calling this computer a gift from above. My hope and sure expectation is that Shelby will be an important tool in the blossoming of writing, research, translation and serving my team during this next chapter of life.

So what do computers, shells and hellebores have in common? They all relate to my question, “Who am I?” I am a woman of God, called to think of myself with sober judgement in accordance with the gifts God has given me, not thinking of myself more highly than I ought but neither lowering my head, hellebore-like, paralysed by poor self-worth. A good computer is a necessary tool for this current season of life. Just as God has called me, cared for me and commissioned me, so he has for each of us who are his people.

And because I enjoy naming inanimate objects that are important parts of my everyday life, that playfulness being part of the unique person God has created me to be, I have given my MacBook a name. ‘Shelby’, short for Shibboleth. I hope and expect that Shelby shall be by my side for years to come, reminding me of who I am – one of God’s own people – and enabling me to serve him well.

“Ask the streets for the answer,” says Street Wisdom[i]. “Come with a question – not too big and not too small – and see what the streets have to say.” Street Wisdom leaders instruct participants to “Slow down. Walk VERY slowly. Notice patterns. Look for synchronicity.”

Street Wisdom is not a religious movement … not openly, at any rate. Street wisdom is basically an exercise in mindfulness. It’s becoming quite a phenomenon in our modern world, and is interesting to think about in light of what the Bible has to say about wisdom in the streets.

 

Biblical Wisdom

“Wisdom cries aloud in the street,
in the markets she raises her voice;
at the head of the noisy streets she cries out;
at the entrance of the city gates she speaks….”  (Proverbs 1:20-21 ESV)

“Does not wisdom call?
Does not understanding raise her voice?
On the heights beside the way,
at the crossroads she takes her stand;
beside the gates in front of the town,
at the entrance of the portals she cries aloud….”  (Proverbs 8:1-3 ESV)

The first nine chapters of the book of Proverbs are written from the perspective of the woman, Wisdom, who calls out to those who will listen. She is depicted as being in the streets, beside the way, at the crossroads and beside the gates in front of the town.

Centuries later, the half-brother of our Lord Jesus, James, also wrote about wisdom.  “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him” (James 1:5 ESV). James points us to the source of wisdom. He contrasts godly wisdom with jealousy and selfish ambition, which he calls ‘earthly, unspiritual and demonic’ (James 3:13-18).

 

A mini-retreat

It’s not ‘street wisdom’ … not the secular sort. But in my mostly-monthly mini-retreats, I purposefully slow down for half a day. Sometimes I stay home, and other times I go somewhere beautiful.  I usually use the Navigator’s pattern[ii] in which I break the time into three one-hour blocks. This last time, having just been exposed to ‘street wisdom’, I took parts two and three to the streets. Don’t think that I’m boasting about having ‘half-day retreats’. In my line of work, I ought to treat them as priority to keep me on track, and very much appreciate the flexibility to do so.

One key difference between standard ‘Street Wisdom’ and a God-centred retreat is, naturally, the focus. Nevertheless, I found myself journaling on the topic of ‘the question’ that I intended to seek God about later in yesterday’s mini-retreat, though came up with five possibilities rather than a single question. With my rambling thoughts now on paper, my mind was freed up to get on with the business of worship. Using a combination of ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ and Psalm 27, along with pages of journaling, I spent a delightful hour. I sensed a call to repent… again … of perfectionism and procrastination. This pair of vices are a bit of a ‘besetting sin’ for me.

The official ‘Street Wisdom’ people encourage practitioners to look for synchronicity. I prefer to think of it as God’s hand. The second part of the retreat, when I moved to a ‘Sushi and Coffee’ shop, was full of divine touches. The second section of my mini-retreat is usually when I pray for others. As I passed my letterbox on the way out, I picked up a new book about a midwife in Africa which we’re reading in book club[iii] – I like it so much I had ordered a hard copy. It inspired me to pray for friends who work over there. The sushi shop is Chinese run, and I figure that the owners are Christians, based on the verses they display on their chalkboards. That inspired me to pray for the Chinese church.  I watched other customers as I sipped my coffee and savoured my sushi. Some of what I observed prompted prayer for others in my life too.  I noticed and appreciated people far more through this exercise than I usually would.

The final part of the retreat, the self-focused part, seemed almost like an addendum.  My ‘question’, which I had intended to choose from the five possibilities I had drafted just two hours earlier, and which had seemed all-consuming at the time, had now shrunk into its proper perspective. As it turned out, I had one single answer to all five of my ‘possible questions’. Here they are, with the single answer:

1. Where do I start with promised language mentoring?

(Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – I had my first session later that afternoon, and it went well.)

2. I have SO much translation work to do this month – what can I do?!        

(Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – do it one phrase at a time)

3. Should I book tickets for planned travel next month and specifically should I visit Shanxi where I lived for many years?

(Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – I went home and booked tickets!)

4. How can I increase my productivity, especially with writing?

         (Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – just do it, hence this blog post.)

 5. Health and fitness goals too often slide – what can I do?

        (Repent of procrastination and perfectionism – it’s a matter of one good choice at a time.)

 

Look to Wisdom for the Answers

The official ‘Street Wisdom’ movement encourages practitioners to ‘look to the streets for the answers’.  They are so near the truth … so very near … and my suggestion is that they are looking for God. Wisdom is calling aloud in the streets, beside the way, at the crossroads and at entrances to our towns.  No wonder our fellow human beings are looking there for answers to their questions. May they find God as they search.

 

Let me close with the words of a truly wise man, C.S. Lewis. The following quote ‘just happened’ to be at the top of the page for this week in my diary … a week in which I was exposed to ‘street wisdom’. There is another example of ‘synchronicity’ in the hands of a sovereign Lord. Lewis said,
“We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito[iv].”

[i] You can read more about the movement here:  https://www.streetwisdom.org

[ii] https://www.navigators.org/resource/spend-extended-time-prayer/

[iii] https://velvetashes.com/category/book-club/

[iv] C.S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer (San Diego: Harvest, 1964), 75.