Author: Suzanne

Sweet smelling smoke wafts from behind the garden shed at the side of my unit. It’s not a naughty boy in my backyard. It’s a naughty boy next door.

Recreational drug consumption has increased significantly during this covid chaos. Authorities can tell that by testing our wastewater. 

That random fact was on the news this week, by the way. You can read about it here if you like: https://www.theaustralian.com.au/breaking-news/new-report-reveals-what-drugs-are-most-popular-in-every-state/news-story/30569b0a6b43e70c0a01224621a2a179

You’ll not be surprised to hear that illicit drugs don’t interest me. Caffeine is my drug of choice and its quite legal. Caffeine isn’t causing significant chaos in my inner world, however. No, my problem is far more respectable. 

The Brewing of Soma

The use of drugs, natural or man-made, illicit or legal, has been around since time immemorial. One of my favourite poems describes the ecstasy which imbibers enjoy.

If you’ve not read it, look up ‘The Brewing of Soma,’ written in the 1800s by John Greenleaf Whittier. If you’re a long-time church-goer, you will recognise some lines starting about 2/3 of the way through. Here is a sample.

“Drink, mortals, what the gods have sent,
Forget your long annoy.”
So sang the priests. From tent to tent
The Soma’s sacred madness went,
A storm of drunken joy.

Then knew each rapt inebriate
A winged and glorious birth,
Soared upward, with strange joy elate,
Beat, with dazed head, Varuna’s gate,
And, sobered, sank to earth.

(Stanzas 4 and 5 from the poem ‘The Brewing of Soma’ by John Greenleaf Whittier)

Distractions

My mind spins out of control sometimes too. A lot of the time actually. Probably even most of the time, just at the moment. 

Studies suggest that distractions affect our minds in a similar way to that of drugs or alcohol. A frequently-aired TV advertisement at the moment highlights the fact that distractions while driving are as potentially lethal as drink driving. Quite apart from driving a vehicle, distractions can also affect our performance on a host of other tasks too – tasks to which we would like to give our full attention. 

If we let it … and it’s hard not to … modern life can be FULL of distractions. Social media poses a particular problem. (If you’d like to read more on this, see https://theconversation.com/social-media-is-as-harmful-as-alcohol-and-drugs-for-millennials-78418 ) Pop psychology suggests that over-stimulated minds and a corresponding inability to concentrate is the malaise of millennials. I’m not a millennial, but I identify.

When I was a teenager, life was simple. I had my study, a casual job, family, friends and a few hobbies. Generally, I focussed on one thing at a time. Now, decades later, the various things that fill my life are all mixed up.

Throughout the day, my phone or iPad or computer continually dings, trills, quacks like a duck, rings and more. Social media apps keep me informed of what people I barely know (though quite like) ate for lunch today. ‘Prayer points’ (surely good and appropriate) come thick and fast. I constantly check the internet for the latest virus figures and stay there to understand a stranger’s opinion on some matter that I didn’t even know interested me until a moment earlier. 

Lessons from roses

As I sat on the back porch this morning pondering such things, my attention wandered to the glorious rose buds on a bush nearby. They are just about ready to burst open. Each stem carries six or seven rose buds. Although they stand tall and proud now, I know that once they open, the stems will bend under their weight and they will lower their proud heads. Some people would have clipped off all but one rose bud per stem so as to allow the bush to pour all its energy and nutrition into that one bud. I am not one of those good gardeners.  I can’t bear to ‘waste’ something with such potential. Pruning is painful … not just to the plant but also to some gardeners. 

The similarities between my overly prolific rose bush and what is inside, on my desk and in my head both, are stark. I have lots of interests, responsibilities and commitments. It’s hard to concentrate though. I don’t sense that God is asking me to prune any of them completely just now. However, I need to do something if I am to make headway on any of them. 

A popular hymn

‘Dear Lord and Father of Mankind’ was declared one of the most popular hymns in the United Kingdom in 2019, according to a poll conducted by the popular BBC programme, Songs of Praise.  (Check out the full list if you’re interested in this article: https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-49871456 ) It is one of my favourites too. Did you know that this whole hymn is actually an excerpt from the longer poem, a portion of which was quoted above, called ‘The Brewing of Soma’? The part about drugged frenzies, mentioned earlier, is NOT sung as a hymn. It contrasts with what we do sing about, however.

Today I sat in the backyard singing quietly the part of that poem which has become one of England’s most loved hymns.

Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our foolish ways!
Reclothe us in our rightful mind,
In purer lives Thy service find,
In deeper reverence, praise.

Stanza 12 of the poem, ‘The Brewing of Soma’ by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892) and now a hymn in its own right

A respectable problem

My problem is not soma or any other drug, illicit or otherwise. It is distractions. 

If you read this blog regularly, you may have noticed that a few weeks ago, I started a four-part series on the Jewish high holy days … but never got beyond part one. (I would like to get back to that, but those holy days are now long past. It can wait.) Why did I not get to it? How did I run out of time for other projects too? My days were full but full of what?

I blame my scattered focus and general lack of concentration on the unsettling times in which we live. In addition to the obvious covid chaos as well as changes at home, I have also been indulging in too much mental stimulation through the ever-changing news and more.

Life is settling down now. It’s time to take myself in hand. 

And so I pray, in the form of a song, while sitting in the backyard. 

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.

(Stanza 16 from the poem, ‘The Brewing of Soma’ by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892)

Our state premier has said that we can look forward to “a COVID-normal Christmas”. That’s nice, but little comfort for Melbourne’s Jewish community. And Melbourne is where about 55,000 of Australia’s 91,000 Jews live. 

The most holy day in the Jewish calendar, a day celebrated by devout Jews and agnostic Jews alike, is Yom Kippur.  As Gentile Christians, we are perhaps more familiar with this festival’s Old Testament name – ‘The Day of Atonement’. It was held from sunset on Sunday to sunset on Monday of this week (as I write). 

There are two other important Jewish holy days at this time of year too. Rosh Hashanah (The Feast of Trumpets) was held over a week ago and Sukkot (The Feast of Tabernacles) will be held in a few days time. These (and specifically the first two – Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur) form the Jewish ‘High Holy Days’. 

Here in Melbourne, they have all been celebrated in a very quiet fashion this year thanks to our citywide lockdown. 

I hope to write three short blog posts over the coming days looking at each one of these very special holidays from the perspective of a Gentile follower of Jesus.  First, though, I have another question to ask myself.

What is the relevance?

Why should I, an Australian Christian woman of British stock, care about Jewish holidays? I’m not Jewish, after all. But care I do … and the more I learn about these holy days, the more I care.  In glimpsing devout Jews in the city in which I now live commemorating these festivals, I learn so much more about my own heritage as a Christian.

Some might say, and rightly so, that the early church leaders declared at the Council of Jerusalem (described in Acts 15) that Gentile believers such as myself need not be burdened by keeping the Jewish Law. Nevertheless, there is a great deal that we can learn even as spectators of Jewish customs. 

The great apostle to the Gentiles, Rabbi Paul, warns us Gentiles about thinking ourselves in any way ‘better’ than the people of Israel. “You do not support the root, but the root supports you,” he wrote to early Christians in Rome (Romans 11:18). He went on to express his ardent hope that Israel would ultimately turn to God through his Messiah. The details of Romans 11 have confused greater minds than mine, but one thing is clear: we are to honour our Jewish roots. 

I think, from my reading of Romans 11 in particular and the Bible generally, that God has a very special place in his heart for the people of Israel even now. 

Here in Melbourne, there are quite a lot of these men and women who, in Paul’s words, “… God loved on account of the patriarchs, for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable.” (Romans 11:28b-29). There are devout Jews, agnostic Jews, modern Jews, orthodox Jews and, amongst them, Jews who recognise Jesus as Messiah.

I have appreciated watching online services held by Messianic Jews to commemorate the first two of these three holy days. I plan to watch the third at the end of this week. You can access them too from their website: https://beithamashiach.com 

Crossing Cultures

The good news of salvation through Jesus spread from Jews to Gentiles. Jesus told his disciples, shortly before his ascension, that they would be his witnesses “… in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8). That has certainly come to pass.

As the gospel spread, it crossed cultures. This has posed no end of challenges for church leaders over the years. The Council in Jerusalem, mentioned above and described in Acts 15, specifically looked at the question of how much Gentiles like me needed to adapt to Jewish ways in order to follow Jesus. Various other church leaders have met over the two millennia since to seek God’s guidance and set church policies on other matters too (including, though not exclusively, cultural issues).

The gospel continues to cross cultures. Questions continue to be debated. Some followers of Jesus in Central Asia ask questions like these: “Can Christians string prayer flags around their homes if we put Bible verses instead of Buddhist words on them?” “How about prayer beads if we chant Bible words or prayers instead of Buddhist words or prayers?” (Rosary beads immediately spring to mind.)

Where does one draw the line between lifestyle and deep-rooted belief? When is the line crossed? What word should be used for the name of God in certain languages … a local word for the supreme deity with Buddhist overtones or an imported word from Hebrew or something else entirely?

Wisdom is needed today as much as it ever was as the gospel enters new territory. Pray that God will grant wisdom to those who grapple with such matters.

Today, however, I am thinking more about how much has been lost in our understanding of things of God as we – the Gentile church – cast aside Jewish traditions. It’s not wrong. It’s just a bit sad, because we miss out on a tremendous depth of understanding about God and his kingdom.

Festivals

Our premier has promised us a COVID-normal Christmas here in Melbourne. That’s nice. Christmas is the most important festival of the year for many Melburnians. Easter is equally as significant to Christians, but Christmas is more enthusiastically celebrated in my particular culture.

But not all people are like me. Not even here in Melbourne.

Some people in Melbourne are flesh-and-blood descendants of Abraham. What a privilege.

I gave up waiting. 

My hair was in my eyes. I had originally decided to wait for a trim. Surely our city’s virus numbers would come down. Only then I would brave visiting a hairdresser, I had thought.  

Our numbers didn’t improve. We went from level three restrictions to a ‘hard lockdown’. Whenever the wind blew, I looked through hair.

It had been far too long … which was why my fringe (bangs) was far too long. 

And so I watched a YouTube tutorial on cutting hair, picked up a pair of scissors with a shaking hand, and snipped. 

If only it was so easy to quit waiting for other things too. 

Waiting is Biblical

I was honoured recently to be invited to give a talk in our church. It was part of a series called ‘Hope in the Waiting’. My allocated topic, ‘hope realised’, was about two elderly Bible characters – Simeon and Anna. They waited a l-o-n-g time … but in the end, that for which they waited came about. Their hope was realised. The main point of the sermon was this: ‘God can be trusted to keep his promises and fulfil his purposes in his perfect time’. 

It was only when I sat down to prepare the sermon that it struck me that the Bible is FULL of waiting. From the measured daily progress of creation (rather than one quick ‘ta-da’) to all creation waiting in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed (Romans 8:19), we wait. 

Consider these few examples of waiting:

Adam and Eve waited for the promised consequence of eating from the forbidden tree … death.  Yet even in judgement, God offered hope and mercy through another promise about the seed of the woman who would crush the head of the serpent … but not yet. They had to wait … and wait … and wait. 

In Noah’s day, there was a lot of waiting for judgement too … waiting to build that ark, waiting for the animals, waiting for the rain to fall and the waters of the deep to gush up, waiting for the water to subside … waiting, waiting, waiting. 

Poor old Abraham was promised a country of his own and so many descendants that they couldn’t be numbered. Yet he waited almost his whole lifetime before seeing even his firstborn. And then that child wasn’t the one who had been promised … so he had to wait some more. 

Joseph of the multi-coloured coat waited for many difficult years before the fulfilment of a childhood dream.

Space doesn’t permit me to elaborate on the Jewish people’s wait for their promised land, the fulfilment of all that the sacrificial system pointed to, Israel’s return from exile or the wait for her Messiah as promised by the prophets. Think of phrases such as ‘Wait for the Lord’ which appear in quite a few Psalms. The New Testament has a lot of waiting too, for although Jesus came to save us, we still live in a ‘now and not yet’ era.

Waiting is Biblical. 

I’m not a fan of waiting. But that, unfortunately, is irrelevant. 

The marshmallow test

 A psychological experiment about delayed gratification, ‘the marshmallow test’, has become popular again in recent years. Search the internet and you will find no end of YouTube clips about cute kids who are given the choice between one marshmallow now or two if they can wait a few minutes before eating the first. I’m currently enjoying a book entitled ‘The marshmallow test – Understanding self-control and how to master it,’  written by the researcher who pioneered ‘the marshmallow test’, Dr Walter Mischel.

Dr Mischel’s research is convincing.  Overall, preschoolers from the 1960s who could sit with one marshmallow and wait without gobbling it down immediately have matured into adults who earn higher incomes than those who couldn’t wait way back then. They are overall fitter, healthier and less likely to struggle with addictive behaviours such as gambling and substance abuse. 

What interests me is the author’s claim that self-control can be learned and practised. 

My city was presented ‘a path out of lockdown’ today (as I write) by our premier. “We all want to get on with life as we knew it,” our premier explained, “but if we don’t wait for these case numbers to get down to single digits, then we will enjoy two or three weeks of freedom before a third wave. We have no choice but to wait.” 

Not everyone agrees with him, but he claims to have made this decision based on advice from epidemiologists. It feels like a grown-up version of the marshmallow test. We can have one marshmallow now … haircuts, face-to-face social interactions, sports and more … or we can wait. If we wait, we can expect so much more. 

A measure of ‘indulgence’

‘Indulgence’ (versus ‘restraint’)  is one aspect which is highlighted in a series of cultural measurement tools called ‘Hofstede Insights’. (You can read more about it if you’re interested on https://hi.hofstede-insights.com/national-culture .) International companies sometimes use this tool as they navigate different cultures in their business dealings. 

One example of ‘indulgence’ versus ‘restraint’ could be illustrated by the marshmallow test. People from a culture with a relatively high ‘indulgence’ score would be more likely to take one marshmallow now than wait for two. Conversely, people from a culture which values ‘restraint’ would be more likely, in the marshmallow test, to restrain themselves.

In the world of adults, our use of credit cards, rather than marshmallows, could illustrate the difference. In a culture in which people like to indulge ourselves, we would be more likely to run up credit card debts to enjoy some of life’s little luxuries now rather than wait a while. In a culture which values restraint, however, people would be more likely to do without some of life’s luxuries in order to save first and avoid hefty interest rates. 

Not surprisingly, Australia scores quite high on the ‘indulgence’ scale according to the Hofstede Insights tool. Our score of 71 suggests that, overall, we like to have fun and to indulge our impulses NOW. We don’t like to wait. Compare this, say, to China, with its score of 24, which suggests that people there, overall, do much better than we Australians at delaying gratification.  (https://www.hofstede-insights.com/country-comparison/australia,china/ )

I’m not pointing the finger at anyone. In one sense, we are the product of our cultures … and yet, in another sense, we create our cultures. I’m thinking about ‘waiting’ at the moment and realising that I need to work a little harder at living according to Biblical culture norms when it comes to waiting well.

A walk in the park

Waiting isn’t a walk in the park … metaphorically speaking.

I quite literally walked through a park, actually, as I thought about this blog on the topic of ‘waiting’ and dictated thoughts into my phone at the same time. (Under our lockdown restrictions, we are allowed out for one hour of exercise a day, masked of course.) I stopped frequently to admire spring blossoms, comment on strangers’ pet dogs and laugh at the antics of cute kids with ribbons dangling off their tricycle handlebars.

In contrast, two lycra-clad women pumped it out in the centre of the park with music blaring. Kick – punch – lunge – do the plank – run like crazy on the spot – push ups and more. It was exhausting just watching them.

I am reminded of a Bible verse, the first part of which I like to quote out-of-context. 

For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come. This is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance. That is why we labour and strive…. 

1 Timothy 4:8-10a NIV

That’s not to say that physical exercise is not admirable. It is just to say that working on godliness is so much more important.

As the fitness fanatics wait purposefully in the park for lockdown to end, so I wait … kind of. I’m not talking about pushing my body quite like they do, though. Godliness has value for now and for eternity … and so I labour and strive towards that end … kind of. 

That’s the ideal, anyhow. Even as I dictated these thoughts into my phone while wandering about the park, I found myself tightening my glutes and picking up the pace. Physical training is, after all, of some value.

How, then, do we wait?

I’m waiting for more than just ‘covid-normal’ criteria to be set in my city. I’m waiting for all that God has promised us for eternity. 

I think of the fabulous chapter of hope which has been of such comfort to me lately – 1 Corinthians 15. The chapter is about the assurance of our resurrection and an eternity with Christ. It finishes with a flourish … victory … immediately followed by one last statement. We have so much to look forward too, so while we are waiting, the writer urges us to … what? It’s an admonition to work hard.

Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.

1 Corinthians 15:58 NIV

I still don’t like waiting. I want my marshmallow and I want it now … figuratively speaking. Yet as a follower of Jesus, I am reminded of the value of waiting. And not just waiting lazily like a middle-aged woman taking a gentle amble in the park but waiting purposefully like a fitness freak in that same park. 

I’m not sorry that I gave up waiting for hairdressers to re-open so that I can get my fringe (bangs) trimmed. There is no point in that waiting. But waiting for God to fulfil his promises and usher in his kingdom … now THAT is worth waiting for. 

And so I wait, working on being godly, looking to Jesus. 

God can be trusted to keep his promises and fulfil his purposes in his purposes in his perfect time.

And so, we wait.

 “It’s not the flower,” I explained through tears. “It’s all that it represents.” 

It had been ten days since Dad’s funeral. After lowering the coffin into the grave, we each took a rosebud from the floral arrangement that had decorated it. The flowers had opened beautifully within a few days. 

And now it was the 85^th anniversary of Dad’s birth and also happened to be the day when ‘my’ rose had clearly passed the point of beauty. It appeared … well … dead. 

Lakeside Lessons

Rewind forty years. I remember sitting in the front passenger seat of the family car after Girls’ Brigade or a church youth service, travelling along the road that wound alongside the lake. Dad was healthy and fit then … and super intelligent. We would discuss things that mattered … really mattered … things like what actually constituted ‘reality’.

Dad was fascinated with something called ‘string theory’ at the time. It involved atoms bouncing so fast that they escape the very limitations of time and space.  Like a string curled up or stretched out appears shorter or longer yet is still essentially the same piece of string, these atoms morph into another dimension. It is the stuff of science-fiction, yet it is, Dad assured me, ‘science’.  

Time and space – four dimensions – breadth, width, depth and time – this is usually all we experience in our limited bodies, Dad explained. But that’s not all there is to reality. God is big – very big – bigger than anything we can fathom. In our resurrection bodies, which will be perfect like Jesus’ resurrection body is, we too shall experience reality as it is and not just as we perceive it now.

I went on to gain a science degree but still never quite grasped string theory. It’s not that I doubted it was ‘a thing’ … I trusted my dad implicitly … but my mind is just not flexible enough to grasp it. 

A Fresh Perspective

Dad’s perspective brings a freshness to the  stories a good Christian kid like me learnt in Sunday school. 

When God became man, it wasn’t just a sweet story about shepherds and mangers for us to re-enact year after year with tea towels wrapped around our heads. Far more significantly, the infinite became finite. 

When Jesus was killed on the cross – an abhorrent story really, the dramatisation of which could justifiably be restricted to adult viewings – it was more than just tragic. The infinite briefly appeared silenced – finished – defeated. Who knows what three days actually is in a dimension beyond time that we can’t quite fathom.  From our perspective, it took three days … and on another note, Dad was always adamant that the crucifixion happened three full days before the resurrection, a special Sabbath in addition to the regular Sabbath filling the void. But that’s another story. You can look at John 19:31 if you’re interested in checking that out. 

Jesus’ resurrection body was similar yet different to his temporal body. He would be walking with others on a road, talking and then sharing a meal with them, then suddenly he would be gone. He would appear in a closed room through locked doors, and invite the man who has ever since been known as ‘Doubting Thomas’ to put his hand in his pierced side and hands. He would sit by a fire on a beach, inviting his disciples to join him for breakfast. He would ascend to heaven in full view of many. 

After his ascension, he would appear to the apostle Paul. Some would suggest … and it makes sense to me … that even before his birth, it was Jesus himself who had appeared to a variety of Old Testament characters and who was referred to as ‘the Angel of the Lord’ – a phenomenon we call ‘theophanies’. 

As for Jesus’ bodily ascension, that was taught but not emphasised in Sunday School … something I now consider an unfortunate oversight. Broken, limited, cursed humanity was restored, released and sanctified. Humanity in holy form was incorporated into the very Godhead itself through Jesus, the ‘first fruits of those who have fallen asleep’ (1 Corinthians 15:20). 

A Divine Coincidence

Return with me now, however, to my limited here-and-now sadness earlier this month as I stood by a wooden coffin covered with flowers and containing the broken remains of my father. It was positioned on two sets of webbing and two stout bars (called ‘putlogs’) and balanced above a very deep hole. 

Then I heard the minister say something quite unexpected. It wasn’t ‘dust to dust, ashes to ashes’ that I heard, but ‘Don has been released from our limited dimensions.” (It was words to that effect, anyhow.) It turns out that the minister has his PhD in mathematics and, like my dad did, has quite a complex view of reality. 

He knew that my father was an avid reader. Even after Dad wasn’t really able to follow a convoluted argument due to failing health, he still found comfort in holding a book in his hands. The pastor referred to Dad’s voracious appetite for knowledge. But, as he confirmed afterwards, he had no idea that Dad had spent time explaining string theory and the possible physics of theophanies to his teenage daughter decades earlier. 

That comment at the graveside was providentially provided in part, at least, as a comfort to me, I suspect. The minister made other comforting comments that were full of meaning too. 

Memories and more

 The rose that I wrote about at the start of this piece with has gone. Well, strictly speaking, the matter that comprised that rose remains somewhere, but not in a vase and not in a form that brings joy to those who view it. Effectively, it is no longer a rose. Only its memory remains.

Dad’s limited body too has gone. Well, strictly speaking, the matter that comprised Dad’s body remains in a box at the bottom of a deep hole in a cemetery, but that is not the person who was my Dad. Yet more than just a memory remains. 

My father lives on in a different form. His ‘soul’ (‘nephesh’ in Old Testament Hebrew) or ‘spirit’ (‘psyche’ in New Testament Greek) is no longer constrained in a limited, failing body but in heaven itself. 

In Dad’s words, he now exists in a dimension that is beyond my ability to grasp in my limited, temporal form. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn in eternity that string theory somehow features. We can debate the what and where and when of heaven, of the new creation and of our resurrection bodies, but those very questions reflect our limited perspectives, fixed as we are in time and space. Eternity with God is reality. I can’t explain it or picture it, but I can be sure of it. 

Hope

The rose has gone. The memories remain. 

My dad has gone. But far more than memories remain. 

The great apostle Paul, to whom the resurrected, ascended Christ appeared, wrote a beautiful passage about resurrection bodies. He quoted in part the prophet Isaiah who had himself glimpsed the Lord in human form. I shall finish with his words:

For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’

1 Corinthians 15: 53-54 NIV

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for.

Hebrews 11:1-2 NIV

Does it seem to you like our world is spinning out of control? Plague … pestilence … floods … famine … explosions … uprisings … corruption … loneliness … loss … death….. And I’m only talking about 2020.

That’s where faith makes ALL the difference.

Death is not the end

Hebrews 11 is a fascinating ‘Who’s Who’ of Old Testament times. The tales summarised here could fill a book. These characters must surely have often felt that life was spinning out of control. Some were murdered while others were mysteriously spirited away. Some gave up all they had for a promise from a God they couldn’t manipulate while others were given back loved ones they had lost.

Even as they faced death, many looked ahead to the fulfilment of promises that had not come to fruition. Joseph, for example, said as he lay dying, “God will surely come to your aid, and then you must carry my bones up from this place” (Genesis 50:25 NIV).

Hebrews 11 said of those people of faith:

And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth….

…. they were longing for a better country – a heavenly one.

…. for he (God) has prepared a city for them.

Hebrews 11:13, 16 NIV

Faith impacts our living

Because of their faith, these ‘heroes of the faith’ could live boldly.

Moses’ parents risked the ire of a powerful Pharaoh because they knew that their baby boy was special. Moses himself grew up to disdain the treasures of Egypt and chose instead to endure disgrace. He reluctantly accepted a mandate even less desirable and more taxing than that of a national leader in a pandemic.

Hebrews 11 describes these people as heroes. Because of their faith, some endured torture, jeers, flogging, chains, imprisonment, stoning, being sawn in two, killed by the sword, and many were destitute, persecuted and mistreated (Hebrews 11:36-37). Their lives make mine look positively boring.

I like boring. I like it very much.

We’re not all called to embrace horror and torture. God calls many of us to steady, faithful lives of service to him. Though our lives be blessedly boring, our hope is no different from those heroes of the faith who lived in such a way “… that they might gain a better resurrection” (Hebrews 11:35).

The point I want to make here is that faith impacts our living. Death is not the end.

Hope

The apostle Paul was another hero of the faith … a New Testament hero. He put up with an awful lot in order to preach the gospel. He could ‘suck it up’ only because of his faith … faith that there was so much more beyond this life. He stated that conviction in black and white terms when he stood before Roman governors and Jewish leaders on a couple of occasions in his colourful career.

… I have the same hope in God … that there will be a resurrection of both the righteous and the wicked….. ‘It is concerning the resurrection of the dead that I am on trial before you today.’

Acts 24:15, 21 NIV

‘Heaven’ is our destination. I’m not exactly sure what ‘heaven’ is like, let alone where it is. As a little girl, I pictured a city gate made of a ginormous pearl, inside which were golden streets. The city was build around a river which was lined by trees covered with tasty fruit. Perfect people bustled about doing meaningful tasks. There were no light posts in heaven. The whole city was illuminated by a very special light source at its centre.

In Old Testament times, those who died were said to be ‘gathered to their people’. Jesus comforted his frightened followers when he spoke of ‘my Father’s house’ (John 14:2). To that thief who hung beside him on Golgotha, Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43). Paul emphasised the certainty of our future imperishable, no-longer-weak, glorious, spiritual resurrection bodies (1 Corinthians 15:42-44). Revelation 9 paints a picture of people of God drawn from all tribes and nations standing in his very presence.

Now that I am grown up, I suspect that my childhood picture of heaven was too small. Even as a middle-aged woman, my mind is too limited to grasp the enormity of heaven. New heavens and a new earth … the coming judgement … evil defeated once and for all … the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God … so much is beyond my comprehension.

But of this, I am sure. Heaven is real.

People of faith

The writer to the Hebrews summed up that ‘Who’s Who’ list of Old Testament heroes of the faith with an astounding statement.

These [heroes of the faith] were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised. God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.

Hebrews 11:39 NIV

I don’t pretend to understand how it all works. I think in a fixed space-time continuum. What I can fathom is that Jesus makes us all perfect in himself. Through Jesus, those people of faith from of old have received what was promised, just as we do.

This planet is riddled with disease … decay … and death. As our world seemingly spins out of control, I am reminded that there is a much bigger reality than what I perceive with my five senses.

My hope is in God, through Jesus.

Death is not the end.

When life settles down, I will be able to focus … to work hard … to achieve … to fulfil my potential. When all my ducks are in a row (metaphorically speaking), then I shall write, I shall weed, I shall create and I shall be the woman God wants me to be. 

That’s a lovely dream. A nice ideal. But not realistic.

A wild ride

In my imagination, inspired by a Bible verse and distracted from a webinar, I find myself flying high.

Wind whips my hair. My cheeks are red and chapped. The air is icy. My heart pounds in my throat. My fingernails just about pierce the skin beneath strong feathers and my legs flail wildly, trying desperately to stay on top of the giant wing and not behind it. I look down, down, down through squinted eyes. There, I see my safe and cosy home, a tiny speck in the landscape.

A seminar

In reality, I was sitting in my safe and cosy home. I was in front of the computer screen, participating in an online seminar, watching a presentation by a fellow student at MST (the Melbourne School of Theology). The topic was the ancient Israelites’ two confessions of faith. One dealt with who they themselves were (Deuteronomy 26:5-11) while the other, known as ‘the YHWH creed’, described their God and ours (Exodus 34:6-7). 

The content was fascinating. I sat, listening, doodling, making notes to keep myself focused. Then one aside that the presenter made caught my attention. Or, rather, God pointed me to it. I scribbled furiously. 

… the LORD … said…. ‘You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself….’ 

Exodus 19 3b, 4 NIV

Eagles’ wings

As the presenter continued with his topic, I skipped around Biblehub.com following this delightful tangent. 

‘Eagles’ – plural. God’s people were carried on eagles’ wings. I picture myself on one wing of an eagle, hanging on tightly, and you, perhaps, on the other. He (whoever ‘he’ may be) is on a wing of a second eagle and she (whoever ‘she’ may be) is on that eagle’s other wing. 

I know, I know … I am being too literal. Those ancient Israelites had to take one frenzied step after another even as God miraculously liberated them from Pharaoh’s grip.  

In a parallel passage in Deuteronomy 32:11, God represents himself as an eagle which stirred up its nest so as to force the young out. The eaglets then had no choice but to make their own feeble flight attempts, afraid yet secure with the wings of the parent eagle underneath. That sounds outright scary. 

Out of Egypt

God carried his people on eagles’ wings from Egypt. 

Egypt, in the context of Exodus 19:4, represented slavery, suffering, oppression and hopelessness … yet it was familiar to that generation of Israelites. They knew what each day would hold.

Leaving Egypt meant that they became fugitives then nomads. Yes, there were incredible displays of God’s power along the way. Their divine direction was indisputable, in the form of a special cloud or pillar of fire to follow. Yet it was anything but comfortable. 

This was how God treated his people. He carried them from Egypt on eagles’ wings. Uncomfortable, inconvenient, the future unknown, but carried nonetheless. 

And he carried them to himself. 

A theophany

After God spoke these words through Moses, he proceeded to give the ancient Israelites a glimpse of his own nature – he, the one who had been their God for generations. 

It would do us good to stop sometimes and meditate on this expression of God. It is a rather different to some of the various pictures that our culture paints of the Divine One. Fire – lightning – thunder – billows of smoke – loud trumpet blasts – the whole mountain reverberating with the divine presence – an experience that made even the great leader Moses tremble with fear (Hebrews 12:21). If I had had the privilege of standing there with the Israelites, I would have probably joined them in begging Moses to make it all stop (Exodus 20:19-20).

This is where those eagles’ wings had taken them. To God himself. 

Carried

When I think of God carrying me on eagles’ wings, I think of an effortless flight. I sing with a sense of peace and harmony, “I will rise on eagles’ wings”.  I visualise myself soaring – high, confident, calm, safe and triumphant in God. 

I wonder how those ancient Israelites thought about their flight from Egypt? Were they confident? Calm? Did they feel safe?  

Many people are struggling these days. As well as the pandemic, there are the usual pressures of life transitions, the added concern about our national economic outlook, uncertain work prospects for those we love and more. In the middle of these current uncomfortable, unsettling, insecure and sometimes outright frightening days, I wonder how we see God. 

It is right to think of God as a place of refuge, safety and stability. However, I wonder if we ever think of him unsettling us, like a parent eagle unsettles her eaglets?

In no sense am I suggesting that this pandemic or other forms of suffering are all about us. Our current situation is quite different to The Exodus. But I am suggesting that being ‘carried on eagles’ wings’ isn’t necessarily a smooth ride. 

Symbols

The presentation finished. I stopped scribbling. But I kept pondering, intending to write this blog post. And then … it’s a long and irrelevant story as to how … I came across this carved eagle that very same day.

The carving came from a Siberian Baptist pastor whose life was anything but secure. He gave it to my father many years ago. It reminds me that even in the uncertainties, the difficulties and the chaos of life, God still carries his people. He is an unchanging God. He carried his people out of Egypt and to himself. He carried that Siberian pastor decades ago. And he carries us – his people – on eagles’ wings today. 

Forget my ducks being in a row. That’s not going to happen. 

Even in the chaos and clutter of life, we are living out our identity as people of God right here and now. The ride might look a bit different, though, to what we anticipate when we sing, “I will rise on eagles’ wings.” 

God carries us to himself.  As the writer to the Hebrews put it, we have not come to a burning mountain but “… to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God” (Hebrews 12:22). 

It’s quite a ride. 

A wealthy woman … that’s me. 

I have just received my ‘tax-ready notice’ from our government. The number is not big but that’s good because with the low-income offset, a few tax-deductible receipts and a number of work-related expenses, I should get quite a nice refund. 

But all that is irrelevant to my status as a wealthy woman. 

Stereotypes

An Asian friend once told me that Westerners are poor in terms of relationships, though materially rich. I could feel my hackles rising. (I’m don’t actually have hackles, but something fiery rose in my spirit.) I clenched my fists. My pride was bruised. 

“That is a stereotype,” I retorted. “We value individualism, yes, but we are NOT relationally poor.” 

After watching a news report this week about a tragedy of a woman not so different to myself, however, I wondered if perhaps my friend had a point. 

A tragedy

It was a tragedy. A disgrace. A crime. Guilty by neglect … though who or what institution is guilty is not yet clear. 

Ann was a single woman just a couple of years older than me. And a lot wealthier  … if you define ‘wealth’ by one’s possessions or the balance of one’s bank account. She had gold hair clips custom made for her. Shopping for gold jewellery constituted a pleasant afternoon’s outing. She lived in a fancy house in a posh suburb. 

She had a disability. 

And she was alone. 

The last year or more of her life was spent stuck in a cane chair in her living room. Literally.

Her paid carer came and went. Her gold jewellery and a couple of fridges also went who knows where. Her car was used and fines incurred. Her neighbours minded their own business. 

Eventually she died.

Poverty … absolutely destitute in terms of relationships was Ann, despite her financial security.  

A pandemic

This pandemic has highlighted the gap between those who have homes in which to isolate and those who don’t. The virus rips through communities in developing countries where personal space, running water and indoor bathrooms are a luxury.  

And yet in such places, you are unlikely to find vulnerable people living alone, sitting in solitude, their neighbours unaware of their plight. 

Now don’t think that I am romanticising material poverty.  I am profoundly grateful for my home. I am very fortunate not to stress about paying for the necessities of life. I appreciate the privilege of being able to isolate at home and reduce the risk of getting or passing on the virus.

I am one of the lucky ones.

But material wealth is not all there is to life. 

Kingdom culture

Two millennia ago, Jesus had a lot to say about wealth. Material possessions don’t feature prominently in his definition of ‘wealthy’. 

Parables about people selling everything they have to purchase one precious thing – a pearl or a piece of land – spring to mind. 

Jesus spoke of a rich fool who built silos and stored grain but died just like anybody else. 

Lazarus and the rich man ended up in quite different places despite their vastly different social and financial statuses on earth.

I think sadly of the rich young ruler who wanted to join the band of Jesus’ followers, but couldn’t bring himself to sell all he had and give it to the poor. He left, dejected. 

Jesus taught that his community of followers was not just ‘like’ family but actually was family. The early church lived accordingly. 

Wealth

According to Jesus’ teaching, I am a wealthy woman. I have treasure in heaven and I have community on earth. On top of all that, I have a roof over my head and food in my fridge. 

What’s more,  I can spatially (and, thank God, not socially) distance myself from others. I will likely come through this pandemic physically unscathed by the virus.

May I use well all that God has entrusted to me.

“They sow the wind and reap the whirlwind,” pronounced the prophet to a rebellious people long ago in a land far away (Hosea 8:7).

‘What does this mean to you?’ asked the writers of the online devotional I listened to this morning (https://pray-as-you-go.org/player/prayer/2020-07-07 )  

The lives of those to whom this proverb was initially applied are very different to ours. But human nature is not so different. It got me thinking…….

Then … the original context

Hosea used this image of sowing the wind and reaping a whirlwind to express how foolish Israel had been. They hadn’t intended to rebel against Almighty God. 

 It had started out with Israelites from the northern kingdom just looking.

Next it was a case of minor transgressions from God’s strict laws. What is wrong with wanting something pretty and sparkly … something like neighbours had, though the neighbours treated them as idols.  A golden calf perhaps. (Had they forgotten what happened in Moses’ day when their ancestors made a golden calf?! History repeats itself.)

Speaking of neighbours, perhaps the very helpful Assyrians could assist with national defence. It couldn’t hurt to ask.

Before Israel knew it, trouble was upon them. A whirlwind of trouble. 

“…. in 733 B.C., Israel was dismembered by Assyria…. Samaria was captured and its people exiled in 722-721, bringing the northern kingdom to an end.”

NIV Study Bible – Zondervan – 2002 – Hosea – Introduction

Now … the virus

It’s not too different to the spread of covid-19 here in Melbourne. 

We sowed the wind. Now we’re reaping a whirlwind.

It seems that not all returned travellers followed strict infection control protocols. An investigation is currently underway to determine just who or what was at fault. As if it matters now.  (We don’t even have quarantine here in Melbourne at the moment.) But we like scapegoats.

It is likely that the security firm hired to enforce hotel quarantines will be in trouble. In my humble opinion, though, the individuals who broke quarantine rules are in no small way responsible.

It didn’t seem a big deal at the time. A shared lighter as smokers slipped out for a cigarette … shutting a blind eye to an outing here and there … inadequate staffing for venues that didn’t need protection from the outside (ghosting) … they are just some of the accusations.

Admittedly, biosecurity breaches occurred in other parts of Australia and those places haven’t ‘reaped a whirlwind.’ I am thinking of a young man who slipped out of quarantine in Perth in order to visit his girlfriend. Or a woman who claimed to be a flight attendant so as to get out of quarantine in Sydney.  (I’m not referencing such stupid behaviour … you can search online for those stories if you’re interested.) These are just a couple of examples of those who have been caught.

Administrative errors have resulted in strict quarantine protocols not being followed on occasions too, with devastating results at times. The name ‘Ruby Princess’ will be synonymous with ‘major stuff up’ in Australia for years to come, I’m sure. 

Sowing the wind doesn’t always lead to reaping a whirlwind. But sometimes it does. It has in Melbourne in recent weeks. 

Applications

Assyrians wiping out the northern kingdom of Israel almost three millennia ago is huge. The virus ripping through the city of Melbourne today is distressing.

At an individual level, I am reminded that little choices can have significant repercussions too. It’s a bit like throwing a pebble into a pond and seeing the ripples spread. 

Big things in life often result from small choices. Often a series of little choices lead to big outcomes. Failing to wash hands … choosing not to observe adequate spatial distancing … general lifestyle choices repeated over and over …  how we use our resources of finances, time, energy and networks … nipping trouble in the bud or failing to do so…… 

As I sit here ‘safe at home’ (which equates to ‘stuck at home’), I am thinking about how I use my time each day, the new routines I am enjoying, the choices I make and more. The applications are endless. These are just little things. But I am mindful of the warning from Hosea, just the same.

If we are not careful, we sow the wind. 

And sometimes, just sometimes, we reap the whirlwind. 

A happy ending … eventually

“Return, O Israel, to the LORD your God. Your sins have been your downfall! Take words with you and return to the LORD. Say to him: “Forgive all our sins and receive us graciously….” 

“I will heal their waywardness and love them freely….”

Hosea 14:1-2a, 4a NIV

I like happy endings. 

It would be a long time though. The people who listened to Hosea’s impassioned words were the last of the northern kingdom of Israel. Those very neighbours, the Assyrians, to whom they turned for help, would soon decimate the nation.

Centuries later, Jesus offered living water to the Samaritan woman. She then brought her whole community to their Messiah. Jesus later commanded his disciples to be his witnesses in Jerusalem and Samaria and to all the ends of the earth.

This was the happy ending.

And yet……

How much distress and loss could have been avoided if Israel’s northern kingdom hadn’t ‘sown the wind’ in the first place? 

Here in Melbourne, how much distress, isolation and economic pain, let alone the loss of health and even life, could have been avoided had not those infection protocols been followed to the letter in the first place? 

What do I need to watch out for in my own life so as to avoid ‘sowing the wind’? 

Life is complicated. But I can take heart, for our ever-patient God still calls his people. “Take words with you and return to the LORD” (Hosea 14:2a). He promises healing and love when we turn to him. It won’t undo the damage past but it will give us hope for the future. 

Right now, though, it still feels like we’re in a whirlwind of sorts. 

Here, Lord are our words. Draw us back to you. 

Screen after screen after screen on my iPad was filled with faces of women just like me. There are a couple of hundred women in our class, of which 164 were present on this zoom call. 

It was BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) sharing day. We have just finished a one semester study of the book of Acts. Today was our opportunity to share some of our insights with the whole class rather than just with our small group. 

I did not speak publicly today. Not because I am shy … far from it. I have only been part of this class for one semester and plan to transfer to another class which meets closer to home next semester. I figured I’d let the long-term class members have priority. And besides, I have this blog where I can share what I’m learning. 

To the ends of the earth

The book of Acts starts with Jesus’ commission to his disciples to be his witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and to the ends of the earth.  It ends with Paul, who had not even been a Christian at the start of Acts. The last verse of Acts tells of Paul witnessing for Jesus at the very centre of the Roman Empire. Although under house arrest, Paul preached and taught  … and he did it boldly and without hindrance. 

Being Jesus’ witness … that has got me thinking about the definition of what we call ‘gospel’, and what it means to ‘share the gospel’. But that’s not what I learnt from our BSF study this semester. Maybe I’ll come back to that another time. 

As I looked at our BSF class, the members all appearing in little boxes on my screen, I am struck by how varied we are in terms of colour and accents. (Yes, I know -‘race’ is a sensitive topic these days.  I’m just stating the obvious, though, with no hint of judgement.) 

The birth of the church, Pentecost, was in Jerusalem. That was the centre of Christendom at the time. Since then it has shifted all around the world, and our class make-up shows that beautifully.  Wow – all glory be to God!

Over this past semester, in this particular class, I am grateful for the leadership and teaching provided by good Christian women from various parts of Asia who now live in Melbourne. (I am thinking of my group leader and teaching leader in particular.) 

Actually, though, secular statistics show that the world’s most devout Christians are actually in sub-Saharan Africa. (If you want to read more, check out this research: https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2018/08/22/the-worlds-most-committed-christians-live-in-africa-latin-america-and-the-u-s/ft_18-08-21_globalchristianity_worship-attendance-prayer/ ) I look forward to the day when I sit under African-Australian leadership. In the meantime, I enjoy submitting to the leadership of Asian-Australian women in this context. 

I love being part of the global church. God’s people are not separated by ethnicity, even though in our broken world we suffer the prejudices and ignorance of racism.  

Jesus delights in his body which is made up of people from many and varied ethnicities. I delight in being part of that community too. That’s the first insight I want to share from the study of Acts in BSF this past semester.

It’s Jesus’ work

The second thing that struck me afresh during this past semester is how the work of mission is Jesus’ work. Yes, we have a role to play, but ultimately we are servants of the Master. Let me elaborate.  

Do you know how many times Jesus himself appeared or spoke to people during those early days of the church? At least eight times!. If you include references to ‘an angel of the Lord’ or to an explicit communication from the Holy Spirit or God, it’s eighteen times. (See the annotated list of quotes below). 

Although I might not have worded it like this, I seem to have somehow figured that after Jesus’ ascension, it was more-or-less up to us to do God’s work, albeit empowered his indwelling Holy Spirit. But it is actually Jesus’ work. 

I think of that classic missions passage from Romans asking, ‘How can they call on Jesus unless they hear?  … And how can they hear without someone preaching?  … And how can they preach unless they are sent?’ (Romans 10:14-15 paraphrased)  I seem to remember having had that verse printed on a prayer card early on in my cross-cultural career. 

It’s true –  we have an important role to play in being Jesus’ witnesses. But let us never forget the limits of our role too. Our role is to be witnesses. Jesus is with us. He guides us. He encourages us (though not as spectacularly as he encouraged Paul … not me anyhow … not yet).  Jesus remains very much involved in the nitty gritty of missions. 

Missions is Jesus’ work. That’s the second insight from BSF this past semester which I want to share.

Verses which refer to divine presence, direction and encouragement in Acts

Supernatural deliverance – An angel of the Lord opened the doors of the jails in which the apostles were imprisoned, instructing them, “Go, stand in the temple courts … and tell the people the full message of this new life.” (Acts 5:20 NIV)

 Supernatural encouragement – The martyr Stephen was encouraged to stand firm by a glimpse of the bigger picture. “Look,” he said, “I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.” (Acts 7:55 NIV)

 Supernatural direction – An angel of the Lord sent Philip to the road on which he met an Ethiopian eunuch who took the gospel home with him. (Acts 8:26)

A supernatural commission – Jesus himself called and commissioned Paul in brilliant light on the Damascus Road (Acts 9:5-6 and Acts 26:15-18). Shortly after that, the Lord (presumably Jesus, since my Bible helpfully puts the text in red) explained to a disciple named Ananias that Paul was his “… chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings, and before the people of Israel…” (Acts 9:15) … along with an assurance of great suffering in Jesus’ name. Shortly after that, the Lord appeared to Paul while he was in a prayerful trance in Jerusalem (I’d LOVE to know more about that!), providing specific direction (Acts 22:18).

Supernatural direction – The God-fearing Gentile Cornelius “distinctly saw an angel of God”  (Acts 10:3 NIV). Later we read that he saw “a man in shining clothes” (Acts 10:30 NIV). I love the response: “Cornelius stared at him in fear.” (Acts 10:4 NIV). The angel instructed Cornelius to send for Peter. In contrast, the apostle Peter only heard a voice in a vision but the meaning was clear. This was God’s next move in his work of kingdom expansion. 

Supernatural deliverance – Acts 12:7-10 records the divine intervention of an angel of the Lord in releasing Peter from jail, though he hadn’t intervened earlier when James had been jailed and executed. Peter would later identify the angel of the Lord as just ‘the Lord’ (Acts 12:17). It’s God’s work and his call regarding even when we live and when our time is up. 

Supernatural direction – Acts 13:2-3 attributes the first formal missionary commissioning service as being in direct obedience to the Holy Spirit. There is much that could be applied here to the selection process for missionary candidates as well as to meetings in general. 

Supernatural direction – When it came to taking the gospel to Europe for the very first time, the Trinity was involved – I have blogged on this before. The Holy Spirit kept Paul and his companions from one planned course of action (Acts 16:6), the Spirit of Jesus blocked them from another planned route (Acts 16:7) and then a vision led Paul to conclude that “God had called us…” to Europe (Acts 16:10). 

Supernatural encouragement – At a particularly low point in Paul’s ministry, the Lord spoke to Paul in a vision … it’s recorded in red letters in my Bible. “Do not be afraid; keep on speaking, do not be silent. For I am with you….” (Acs 18:9-10 NIV)

Supernatural prophecy – Paul’s decision to go to Jerusalem where trouble awaited him was attributed to the Spirit: “… compelled by the Spirit … the Holy Spirit warns me….” (Acts 20:22, 23) . A Judean prophet also warned Paul of trouble ahead, demonstrating his imprisonment powerfully through drama, and attributing these insights directly to the Holy Spirit (acts 21:11). 

Supernatural encouragement – In the thick of trouble and discouragement and on the cusp of being thrust into the clutches of the leaders of Gentiles and ultimately the highest court in the empire, the Lord stood near Paul (doesn’t that give you goosebumps!) and said, “Take courage….” (Acts 23:11). 

Supernatural prophecy – An angel of God appeared to Paul on a ship which would soon to be submerged by tumultuous waves.  Unsurprisingly, his opening words were “Do not be afraid….” (Acts 27:23-24)

Personal Applications

Bible Study Fellowship emphasises personal application of what we’re learning … a LOT. And so of course, as I look back on the semester just finished, I am considering this question:  ‘How will I apply what I’ve learnt?’ So here goes……

Application 1:  Know my place and be encouraged

I am a very little person in the great scheme of Jesus’ work. Building God’s kingdom is a project which spans time, place, language and culture. Recognising my smallness in it all takes a  weight of responsibility off my shoulders. I have a particular focus right now in terms of missions but that’s all it is – my focus.  Yes, I sense that it is a God-given focus. It’s where I need to pour my resources of time, energy, experience and education. But what happens is not my responsibility. There’s a big difference between the two. 

Application 2: Maximise prayer, minimise chatter

Decision making processes should be centred more on seeking God’s direction and less on endless discussions. Yes, clear communications with one another, policies and strategies have a place … but not first place.  

As an obvious starting point I need to pray more about how I use those resources that God has given me, and talk less about what I could, should, might, won’t or can’t do. 

Application 3: ‘Practice the Presence of God’ (to borrow words from the 17^th century monk, Brother Lawrence) 

“Do not be afraid – I am with you,” said the risen, ascended Jesus to Paul on a number of occasions. I know that it is true for us today too. Just the same, I would rather like the goose-bump-generating experience of sensing him standing right there in person from time to time. Although were I to actually experience it, I may well freeze up like dear Cornelius and just stare in fear. 

Physically standing beside us or not, Jesus IS with us. And that gives us courage. Personally, I take encouragement as I continue to plug away on that particular focus which feels too big and unwieldy for little me … and IS too big and unwieldy. But (a) it is not my responsibility, and (b) the one who is responsible is with me. So I will not be afraid.

And that is what I would have shared had I chosen to speak up in our BSF online class sharing day. Here it is in written form instead. It’s been a good semester.  

A wise man said, “If something happens three times, it’s probably not a coincidence. Look for God’s hand.” 

‘Gazumpa’ … or the concept this character represents … has come to my attention three times over the last few weeks. I think an awareness of this odd creature and appropriate management is where I need to focus just now. That’s the lesson I’m up to in the divine personalised curriculum laid out for me. 

Who or what is Gazumpa, you may ask? 

Introducing Gazumpa

‘Gazumpa’ is what I have named my inner critic. Yes, an ‘inner critic’ is  a psychological concept rather than a person. That’s why I’m not referring to Gazumpa’ as ‘him’ or ‘her’. It makes it a bit tricky to write about this pesky entity though. I think of Gazump as a person … someone with a persistent, nagging, whiny voice. Gazumpa is that voice in my head. 

No, I’m not going mad. I don’t think so, anyhow. 

This genderless creature is small, with pointy features. It wears a drab shirt buttoned tightly around the neck and at the wrists, dark neat trousers and polished shoes without a hint of scuffing. Its hair is pulled back in a tight bun without a flyaway strand to be seen. Gazumpa walks and talks with a pompous, self-righteous, arrogant air. Its favourite phrases are, “What DO you think you’re doing?” “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well,” and “If you can’t do it perfectly, don’t bother doing it at all.” 

The verb ‘to gazump’ is used in real estate transactions. If one person makes an offer on a property, which is verbally accepted, and then, at the very last moment, someone else makes a slightly higher offer and gets the property, we say that second person has ‘gazumped’ the first. It’s not illegal but it’s not morally or ethically right either. 

That’s why my inner critic is named ‘Gazumpa’. 

Unconscious Persuasion

The phrase ‘unconscious persuasion’ caught my attention on an advertisement for an SBS program recently.  “[Dr Xand] investigates if unconscious persuasion could be the future of dieting,” I read.

I doubt you want to look it up, but I can’t quote even a TV programme on a public blog without proper referencing, so Gazumpa reminds me. I read it here: https://www.sbs.com.au/ondemand/program/how-to-lose-weight-well accessed 17 June 2020, though watched the programme a month ago. Thank you, Gazumpa.

Actually, it turns out that ‘unconscious persuasion’ isn’t about dieting at all. Some people who practise this talk about ‘the dirty d-word’, which is, of course, ‘dieting’.

‘Unconscious persuasion’ is about changing the way we think, and in this case, specifically about food and exercise. Advertisers mess with our thoughts all the time through repetitive slogans, images and sound clips. They’re not as concerned about our health, however, as they are concerned about profit. Am I being cynical?

I signed up for a twelve week programme called ’Thinking Slimmer’ and have been enjoying it. Every day, I watch a short video and listen to a repeated pep talk. One of the videos was about identifying and distancing ourselves from our inner critics. We were encouraged to give that inner critic a silly name. 

Hence Gazumpa.  

Writer’s Block

My productive procrastination these past months has been impressive, if I say so myself. I have a particularly important writing project to work on. Why can’t I get into it? I have an outline, I have plenty to say, and I have sat at the computer for hours, writing and re-writing one section,  perfecting footnotes as I go. 

And then, this week, in yet another feat of procrastination, I took an online test to determine the problem … or to put off doing the writing a little longer … or both. I also read the book that goes with the test. The results were astounding.  

(The test can be found here: https://newforums.com/resources/ebooks/blocking-questionnaire-tool-scholarly-writers/  … Gazumpa prompted me to give proper credit.)

First, I learnt that I could legitimately claim to have had writer’s block. (I think it’s gone now!) 

Second, I learnt that my inner critic, or, more to the point, my inappropriate attention to that inner critic, was largely to blame. Yes, that is Gazumpa. 

Gazumpa is not my enemy. Its critical nature will be quite useful when I get to the editing and polishing stage, and when fiddling with the footnoting. But right now, Gazumpa needs to be sent out for a l-o-n-g walk whenever I sit down to work on this project. 

Subconscious Processes

‘Subconscious Processes’ was the name of lesson I attended yesterday in a zoom training session. We were shown a lovely diagram of a mind with the conscious thinking and sensory entry points above a deep and mysterious subconscious. The subconscious is where Gazumpa resides. 

The training was rich and practical. I will spare you the details, but suffice to say that our ‘inner critics’ featured in terms of unhealthy self-talk. The relevance to this blog post was one of the practical applications that we were given at the end of the session. 

“When the Holy Spirit brings things to mind, deal with them,” I wrote in my notebook. 

Given that this was the third time in a short time that I was hearing about internal critics, I figured that the Holy Spirit was bringing this to mind. This blog post is my way of dealing with it … or it’s a move in the right direction, anyhow. 

The Voice of the Spirit

Not only do I have Gazumpa whispering half truths in my mind, but I also have the Spirit of God nudging me towards holiness. The two are nothing alike. 

‘You’ve got to be perfect,’ preaches Gazumpa. ‘If you can’t do it perfectly, don’t bother doing it at all.’

The Holy Spirit reminds me of the value of weakness. 

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 

2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV

But … ‘Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect,’ murmurs Gazumpa, taking Scripture (Matthew 5:48 NIV) out of context just as The Enemy did way back in Eden. 

The Spirit reminds me that when Jesus spoke those words about being perfect, it was in the context of him explaining that we cannot achieve the perfection standard of the Jewish Law. Indeed, Jesus had come to fulfil the Law.

Interestingly, as I edit this blog post the day after writing it, these EXACT words – ‘Be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect’ – were the focus of the devotional I listen to each morning. (The devotional can be found here: https://pray-as-you-go.org/player/prayer/2020-06-16 )

Yes, the Spirit is transforming me through the renewing of my mind, as per Romans 12:2.

Instead of bashing myself up for failing to be perfect, I think of the apostle Paul’s encouraging words to the less-than-perfect saints in Rome.

… so that the Gentiles [people like me] might become an offering acceptable to God, sanctified by the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:16b NIV

I’m being sanctified. I’m a work in progress. 

Inner critic – friend or foe?

This week, I have sat at the computer every day with the intention of putting in 25 minutes of non-perfect work on my academic writing project. To my astonishment, after struggling for weeks, I am now easily putting in 90 minutes a day. And enjoying it.. That’s what happens when I send Gazumpa out for a walk. 

When Gazumpa whispers those half-truths about perfection or anything else, with God’s help, I shall recognise them and refute them. 

But when it comes time to edit my document and make those pesky little footnotes perfect, Gazumpa will have a role. 

My inner critic is not all bad. Gazumpa is neither friend nor foe. My inner critic just needs to be kept in its place and stick to the truth. 

THAT is the challenge.