Author: Suzanne

I can’t find just the right song for this topic. 

I’m currently on day seven of a good intention that will hopefully become a habit. Each day, I want to stop, meditate on a passage of Scripture or an attribute of God, and prayerfully sing something related to that theme. Until today, it’s been easy. Songs I have enjoyed this past week have included ‘Rescuer’, ‘Turn your eyes upon Jesus’ and ‘Purify my heart’. 

I was meditating on a passage which we discussed in BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) yesterday. In Acts 24, we find the great missionary to the Gentiles and Jews both, Paul, standing before a Roman governor, Felix, and the ruler’s Jewish wife, Drusilla. His words cut straight to their hearts. Their reaction was intense. There’s got to be application for me in there too, right? 

Not quite the song I’m after

… Felix came with his wife Drusilla, who was a Jewess. He sent for Paul and listened to him as he spoke about faith in Christ Jesus. As Paul discoursed on righteousness, self-control and the judgement to come, Felix was afraid…. 

Acts 24:24-25a NIV

Righteousness, self-control and the judgement to come … that was the topic of my meditation today. I walked around some lovely wetlands near my home, mumbling ‘Righteousness, self-control and judgement to come’ in sync with the rhythm of my footsteps. 

But I couldn’t find a song. I delved deep into my memory. Finally a melody from my childhood surfaced with a pleasant ‘pop’.

“Music machine, music machine,
Like no other gadget that you’ve ever seen…” 

Frank and Betty Hernandez, 1977

After I got home, I looked up the lyrics for the self-control song from what was then a much-loved vinyl record of ours – ‘Music Machine’. Along with examples of self-control in everyday life, the lyricists hammered this lesson into the minds of little kids through the chorus:

Self-control is just controlling myself
It’s listening to my heart
And doing what is smart
Self-control is the very best way to go
So I think that I’ll control myself.

Frank and Betty Hernandez, 1977 – this is the chorus to the song ‘Self-Control’ from ‘Music Machine – The Fruit of the Spirit’

A master missionary’s method

Actually, cute Christian kids in the 1970s singing ‘Music Machine’ had very little in common with the royal couple before whom Paul spoke in the first century. 

It struck me as an exceptionally odd gospel presentation. Perhaps we over-emphasise grace and honour at the expense of works and owning your shame. Even so, Paul’s focus on righteousness, self-control and the judgement to come in an initial gospel presentation was surely unusual. 

Paul is a master missionary. His models are worth studying. In Athens, the identity of the ‘unknown God’ was his starting point for explaining the gospel to the Greeks. Amongst Jews, he skilfully interpreted Scripture to show how Jesus was the fulfilment of prophecy. As for the Philippian jailer and his household, Paul (and Silas) simply urged them to believe in the Lord Jesus. 

And to the Roman Felix and Jewish Drusilla combination, Paul spoke of righteousness, self-control and the judgement to come.

Terror

Interrupting Paul’s ‘gospel presentation’, filled with fear, Felix sent Paul back to his prison cell. Nevertheless, over the next two years, he would often send for him and discuss matters further. The historian, Dr Luke (author of Acts), noted too that Felix hoped in vain that Paul would bribe him. 

Why were Felix and Drusilla filled with fear at Paul’s emphasis on righteousness, self-control and the judgement to come? As I delved a little further, using online study aids, my ‘good Christian girl sensibilities’ were shocked.

At one point, I had thought that I might write this blog post from the perspective of Drusilla. But no. I don’t need to do that to myself. And besides, I wouldn’t know where to start.

The reason for the fear response was surely the certainty of judgement … unless, of course, they turned to Jesus in repentance and faith.

Nature and nurture

Nature and nurture … Drusilla had both against her in terms of ‘righteousness and self-control’. And surely she had every reason to fear the judgement to come. Yes, forgiveness is available through Jesus but repentance is required. And it doesn’t sound like she was interested in that.  Felix, too, was angling for a bribe … behaviour hardly conducive to righteousness and self-control. 

Drusilla was the daughter of King Herod Agrippa I who is known as the ‘Royal Persecutor of the Church’. She was the granddaughter of Herod the Great, who had ordered the massacre of baby boys around the time of Jesus’ birth in an attempt to kill the Messiah. She was the niece of Herod Antipas who had ordered John the Baptist beheaded, and cousin to the girl who had asked for John’s head on a platter. Her family connections were impressive in a warped way. 

Although she was probably only a young woman at the time of Paul’s two-year imprisonment in Caesarea, Drusilla had already lived quite the life. Married as a teenager to a king in modern-day Syria, she had left him for Felix. Tradition suggests that Felix was fascinated with her and involved a Jewish sorcerer in orchestrating this unholy union.

Drusilla wasn’t surrounded by … let us say … people of ‘good influence’. But that did not excuse her for the choices she made along the way.

Live well

My own battles with self-control relate to little things like household and administrative chores and needing to spend more time in my home office chair (something I don’t like to do).  These trivialities are nothing in comparison to the massive sins of Drusilla, the Jewish wife of Felix, surely.

The New Testament letter of 1 John tells me that, as a follower of Jesus, I must walk in the light. Drusilla’s sins were big. They were obvious. There was no hiding them. Mine are small. Most people wouldn’t even recognise them as sin unless they actually lived with me. But sins they are. And there is no hiding of them, either, when I ‘walk in the light’. 

If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.

1 John 1:8-9 NIV

It’s all about Jesus. He forgives us and purifies us and makes us righteous. But read on … John had more to say……

The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever.

1 John 2:17 NIV

It’s also about my behaviour. My actions don’t save me. But I can’t follow Jesus and continue to live in a worldly way. I can’t ‘do the will of God’ and live without regard for God’s standards.

Still singing

Don’t worry. I’m not sliding into a works-based theology of salvation. But I have been reminded of a three-pronged truth as I spend time in this rather strange gospel presentation of Paul’s to a Gentile ruler and his Jewish bride. 

Righteousness is important. Self-control is important. We live in light of the judgement to come. 

Our lifestyles must reflect our calling as people of God.

No wonder Felix and Drusilla were terrified as the gospel pricked their consciences. For it seemed that they were unwilling to change their ways. Yet judgement would be inevitable.

I am very grateful for my Christian heritage. ‘Music Machine’ was a great way to instil Biblical truths in the hearts of kids decades ago. God bless those artists who produce music similar to this for kids today. God bless Christian parents who are intentional in teaching Christian truths to young children. 

I just wish I could find an adult song to sing meditatively about righteousness, self-control and the judgement to come.  If you have a suggestion, do pass it on to me.

In the meantime, I shall be singing the chorus from the self-control song of Music Machine.

This past Sunday was Pentecost, a church holiday (holy day) we barely notice in my circles.  Many of us were more focused on chaos and injustice the world over after the tragic passing of a brother in Christ a few days earlier. 

His death highlights a lesson from that Pentecost day almost two millennia ago on which the church was born.

In Christ, barriers between us have been broken. 

If you’re interested in reading about the Christian character of ‘Big Floyd’, as the brother who died last week was affectionately known, check out this article: https://www.christianitytoday.com/news/2020/may/george-floyd-ministry-houston-third-ward-church.html

Gender discrimination no more

Women were lifted into significance in the early church through Jesus’ ministry. In the Jewish culture of the day, women were not allowed into the inner courts of the temple; they were restricted to the ‘women’s court’. Women were not permitted to be priests, though there were several female prophets honoured in Israel’s history. Women did not count amongst the twelve disciples closest to Jesus either, but they were not far out from his inner circle. Dr Luke records their presence in his record:

After this, Jesus traveled about from one town and village to another, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God. The Twelve were with him, and also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene) from whom seven demons had come out; Joanna the wife of Cuza, the manager of Herod’s household; Susanna; and many others. These women were helping to support them out of their own means.

Luke 8:1 – 3 NIV

Women not only followed Jesus throughout his ministry, but women followed Jesus to the cross. Jesus took time to address women on the road to Gethsemane as well as to look out for his mother from the cross itself. A woman was the first person to whom Christ revealed himself after his resurrection. Women were treated with dignity and respect by our Lord. 

Come the Pentecost Day on which the church was born, women were right there with the twelve. Dr Luke records how Jesus’ followers spent their time between Jesus’ ascension and the coming of the Spirit: 

They (Jesus’ disciples) all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.

(Acts 1:14 NIV) 

Equal though different

Relax. I’m not about to get into a debate about complementarianism versus egalitarianism. That sensitive discussion relates to the role of women in churches. I’m not going there right now.

Some of us are created with high emotional intelligence but we can’t fix blocked toilets in our church buildings. Others of us are gifted at keeping the books but we are lousy in putting words together in an easy-to-listen-to manner. Some of us are evangelists. Others are teachers. Still others are gifted in hospitality.

We have different gifts but we are part of one body … Jesus’ body. We have different personalities but we are indwelt with the one spirit … Jesus’ spirit. 

Some of us have black skin. Others have white skin. The luckiest of us have skin that is neither too dark nor too light, but just right.

None of that affects our value in God’s eyes. Though it just might in the eyes of one another. 

Prophecy

It was very important that the women were there with the men when the Spirit of God descended on the group that Pentecost Day. When the apostle Peter explained to astonished onlookers what was happening, he referred to a prophecy given by a prophet named Joel. 

I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy.

Joel 2:28-29, Acts 2:17-18 NIV

Back in the Middle East in the first century, women were second class citizens. But not in Jesus’ eyes. And at Pentecost, his spirit was given to both men and women. 

Peter made sure the onlookers knew it.  Breaking gender barriers was a powerful statement about the work of Jesus. As was breaking linguistic barriers.

Broken barriers

Racism would also become an issue in the early church in the years to come, but perhaps not in the way that we understand it now. Back then, people of other races could convert to Judaism so long as they took on Jewish ways of life. 

There were Jews from all over the empire gathered in Jerusalem that first Pentecost. Some were born Jews, while others had converted (see Acts 2:11). Amazingly all of them could hear those followers of Jesus … men and women … declaring God’s wonders in their own languages. 

The issue of whether those who would believe in Jesus had to become culturally Jewish was going to become a big deal in the years to come. But on that first Pentecost following Jesus’ death, resurrection and ascension, the message that came through loud and clear was this: 

Jesus had broken the barriers of gender and language. 

Simeon called Niger

Some years after the Holy Spirit was spectacularly given to God’s people that Pentecost Day, the leaders of a Christian community in Antioch would fast and pray and commission the prophet to the Gentiles, Paul. Actually, the church leadership team was made up of five men, two of whom were sent by the church to take the gospel to those who had never heard – they were Barnabas and Saul (Paul). Of the other three, as best we can tell, one was black. Simeon, called Niger, was his name (see Acts 13:1). 

Dr Luke, the author of the book of Acts, has done it again … he has piqued my interest but left me hanging. Who, pray tell, was ‘Simeon, called Niger’? Bible scholars tell us that the Latin name, Niger, did indeed mean black. What was Simeon’s heritage? Was he a convert to Judaism first then a Christian later? (Just as an aside, Antioch was where followers of Christ were first called Christians.)  Was he circumcised? Did he follow Jewish food laws?

There is a lot we don’t know. But one thing we do know is that one of the senior leaders in Paul’s sending church was Simeon, called Niger.

Thanks, Dr Luke, for pointing that out.  

Paul’s empassioned plea

Some years after Simeon, called Niger, and his team had sent the apostle Paul and his companion on their first missionary journey, racism reared its ugly head. 

It wasn’t about the colour of one’s skin, but more about the lifestyle one led. Young Christians in Galatia, a church established by that very same missionary outreach sent from the church in Antioch, had been convinced that following Jewish ways were necessary for salvation. 

Paul wrote to correct this heresy. He was rather rude, actually. “You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you?” he wrote. “Did you receive the Spirit by observing the law, or by believing what you heard. Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?” (Galatians 3:1-3) And on and on and on he ranted. 

Along the way, in his rant, he pronounced this truth: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28)

All one. 

Neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female. 

Neither black nor white, illiterate nor well-educated, rich nor poor. 

As members of God’s kingdom, we are all one in Christ Jesus.

Pentecost 2020

The prophet Joel spoke of a day when God’s Spirit would be given to all God’s people, regardless of gender or age. The apostle Peter and his group, comprised of both men and women, demonstrated that God’s Spirit would be given to all who called on the name of the Lord. The apostle Paul wrote that, in Christ, all barriers between us are broken down. 

Pentecost 2020 is time for us, Spirit-led people of God, to speak up. I am in no way condoning violence and destruction, nor suggesting we participate in even peaceful public protests during a pandemic. I am, however, aware that injustice is perpetrated over and over again. In as much as we have influence or authority to speak, act or even just ‘be’, as children of God, let us portray kingdom values. 

Politics is complicated. Modern media reports don’t help with various biases and sensationalism needed to grab attention and make money. One thing, though, is clear:

In Christ there is no black and white. 

Though I still envy people whose skin colour is just right. 

 

Have you ever heard a sermon on Paul’s Corinthian vision? I haven’t, though can’t imagine why – it’s such an encouraging passage. Found in Acts 18:9-10, certain words are even printed in red in some Bibles.  It is the tale of a discouraged church worker who is spurred on by our Lord himself. 

Highs and Lows

The adrenaline had worn off, it seems. Paul had pushed through isolation and danger and come to a place of companionship and care … after which he crashed. 

Isn’t it so often the way that we push through when the pressure is on, only to fall apart when the pressure is off? 

The vision comes partway through Paul’s second missionary journey. It had been a rough trip so far and yet exhilarating at times. In just over twelve months, his life was like a little boat on choppy seas, bouncing from highs to lows, peaks to troughs, in danger of being overwhelmed by it all.

LOW: It started badly because of a blow-up with his mentor and friend, Barnabas, before they’d even left Antioch (Acts 15:36-16:5). 

HIGH: Once Paul got moving with new travel companions, divine direction was SO clear. The Holy Spirit kept them from entering a province called Asia (Acts 16:6). The Spirit of Jesus kept them from entering an area called Mysia (Acts 16:7). Then there was the vision of Macedonian man which led Paul and his men to conclude that God was calling them to take the gospel to Europe. (If only discerning God’s direction were so obvious for many of us today…..)

HIGH: They arrived in Philippi, were warmly welcomed by a wealthy woman and accommodated very comfortably indeed.

LOW: What a shock to the system, then, to go from Lydia’s luxury to a Philippian prison. Thankfully, that ordeal ended well (Acts 16). 

LOW: In Thessalonica, jealous Jews rounded up a mob, forcing Paul and his pals to flee. So on to Berea they went, where the same thing happened.  This time, Paul left for Greece, where he waited. Alone. 

HIGH: Paul had the privilege of explaining who God is to the aristocratic council of ancient Athens. That was no small privilege! This invitation springboarded from his claim to know the identity of their ‘unknown God’. 

HIGH: After moving to Corinth and before his travel companions joined him, Paul developed a close friendship with Priscilla and Aquila. I wonder if he valued their hospitality as much as I have appreciated several families, at different points over the years, who have included me, the single aunty, in their family rhythms? 

LOW:  Paul had no patience for abusive members of the synagogue in Corinth. Formally and deliberately, he gave up on trying to share the gospel with them. “Your blood be on your own heads,” he protested as he shook out his clothes as a visible sign that he was done with them. What garments did he actually shake out? My mind boggled as I considered the options. After going to Biblehub.com, I understand it to have been a long, flowing outer garment that he shook out, and not quite everything.

He demonstrated his change in focus by shifting his teaching base from the synagogue to the home of a man with a good Latin name, Titius Justus. 

CRASH!

Perhaps Paul had been heading for a crash for some time. Much later, he would write to the church in Corinth, saying, “I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling” (1 Corinthians 2:3). Without thinking it through, I always assumed that Paul was just being humble about his abilities. But now I realise that this great missionary was actually struggling at that time.

Was Paul teetering on the edge of burnout by the time he got to Corinth? Or even in the thick of it? I don’t know anyone who has had as many intense highs and lows as Paul experienced in just a year or so. Could Paul sleep at night? Was he constantly wound up, fists clenched, shoulders hunched, forehead furrowed? 

Then came the vision (Acts 18:9-10). 

The Vision

At this point, I am rather frustrated with Dr Luke, who recorded the tale, because I want details! Was Paul awake or asleep? Or in some state in-between? What did he see? It was a ‘vision’ after all … there must have been something visual. Was it a brilliant light, similar to his Damascus Road experience? Or was there more?  Dr Luke says that ‘the Lord spoke to Paul’ (Acts 19:9). What did the voice sound like? Was ‘the Lord’ God or Jesus or does that question show my limited thinking? Did the Lord speak in classical Hebrew or Aramaic or Greek or in some other language?

Despite the lack of details, one thing is clear. The Lord’s words gave Paul the encouragement he needed to keep going. “Do not be afraid; keep on speaking, do not be silent,” said the Lord (Acts 18:9).  

“For I am with you and no one is going to attack and harm you,” he continued (Acts 18:10). Was Paul expecting to be harmed? He had already fled for his life several times over. Indeed, it could well have happened again.

Dr Luke goes on to relate the details of an attack by jealous Jews on Paul. Just as the Lord had promised in the vision, though, it came to nothing as far as Paul was concerned, thanks to a disinterested Roman ruler. (Acts 18:12-17). Mind you, the ruler of the synagogue, Sosthenes, copped a beating (Acts 18:17). Presumably, Sosthenes had chosen to follow Jesus, for he would later co-author 1 Corinthians with Paul (see 1 Corinthians 1:1). 

Why was God determined to keep Paul there for a season? The Lord explained to Paul that it was “… because I have many people in this city” (Acts 18:10). I wonder whether he was referring to all those who would turn to him in the years ahead?

Encouraged

‘Do not be afraid for I am with you.’ This was essentially what the Lord said to Paul, and it is something that we can all take heed of, regardless of where and when we serve God. The other details – the promises of safety and the purpose of ushering God’s people in Corinth into his kingdom – were specific to Paul right there and then.

Why can I claim the admonition not to be afraid and the promise of God’s presence as being for us? The Bible is full of instances where God or his messengers told people, “Do not be afraid…” The command, ‘Do not be afraid’ was given to different characters in various settings in Scripture 365 times apparently (though I have not counted them myself). Yes, we are to fear God, but when God is with us, we need fear nothing and no-one else. Jesus himself promised to be with his followers and those who come after them until the very end of the age (Matthew 28:20).

God with us

The Trine God is with us just as he was with Paul. I sometimes wish he would guide us as clearly as he guided Paul, with the Holy Spirit stopping one plan, the Spirit of Jesus another and then a dream pointing in a third direction.  But then, as I look back at life, certain courses of action have been very clear. I just didn’t feel confident at the time to attribute the direction to God himself. Only in hindsight is it obvious.

Some of us have been and continue to go through rather stressful times just now – highs and lows – something like Paul experienced in the year prior to his Corinthian vision. (Personally, life is fairly smooth for me just now – something I am enjoying while it lasts.) None of what Paul endured took God by surprise, and in the same way, he knows what is ahead for us. He doesn’t promise immunity to suffering, but he does promise to always be with us. 

Although I am a little jealous of Paul and his visions, it isn’t like God is silent around me. Far from it. God has frequently communicated with me through nature, ‘divine coincidences’, hunches, timely words from other people, Scripture verses that seem ‘to jump off the page’ and music. Sometimes I have been prevented doing what I thought was best and other times the way ahead has been smooth. In hindsight, I can see that God was in it all and can be confident that he won’t leave me … ever!

Settled

Paul’s second missionary journey had been full of tumult, turmoil and constant movement … until the point that he received this vision. We sense his physical and mental exhaustion. But then something changed. 

After the vision, Paul stayed put. For the next year and a half, he taught the word of God to new believers in Corinth (Acts 18:11). Yes, those jealous Jews continued to harass him, but rather than unsettle him, their shenanigans seemed to be like water off a duck’s back as far as Paul was concerned. 

At the end of the 18 months, he  returned to his home base of Antioch, visiting a few other places on the way. Calm. Quiet. Settled.  

God was with Paul. God is with us. God already knows all is going on with life. When I remember that, my heart is settled too. I am able to get on with the job at hand – the tasks God has given me – in a quiet focused fashion. 

And that includes this blog post. 

So I finish with this reminder to myself: God is with us. God is doing his work. He chooses to use us in that. I can settle down and get on with the tasks he has for me, my heart calm and quiet, relishing the relationships he has given me.

Confucius was a wise man. His observations about the various stages of life are particularly astute, despite the massive differences between the world he inhabited in China 2,500 years ago and our globalised lives in the 21st century.

‘Study’ is a key part of my work, making up about 25% of my workload (ideally … though these are not ideal times). I wanted to share that fact with a prayer group the other day. “It’s important to be a ‘reflective practitioner,” I planned to tell them.

But then that overly critical inner voice started hounding me. “What is a middle-aged woman doing still studying? Surely you should have moved past that stage long before now?”

My inner critic has a point.

What would Confucius say?

Confucius

Confucius said, “At 15, one should throw himself into learning; at age 30 one is established in life; by age 40, one is free from doubts; at 50, one knows the ‘mandate of heaven’ (what your purpose is in life); at 60 one’s ear is attuned (to listen to good and not rubbish … I think), and at 70 years of age, one can do whatever one wants because rules don’t apply to him anymore.”

子曰：‘‘吾十有五而志于学，三十而立，四十而不惑，五十而知天命，六十而耳顺，七十而从心所欲，不逾矩。

Confucius lived approximately from 551BC to 479BC

Age appropriate

Those of us who have the privilege of living in different parts of the world for lengthy periods of life don’t always neatly fit the categories laid out by that wise old man. I look back on my own life.

“At 15, one should hard at learning” – yes, that I did. I learnt well in my first language.

“At age 30 one is established in life.” On my 30th birthday, I was a student AGAIN. I was stumbling through language textbooks that ten-year-old kids in my adopted country could have read more fluently than me. Though let it be known that I was reasonably competent in my first language.

Changing my country of residence at age 27 threw everything into confusion. Choosing to transplant myself into a place in which my strengths and abilities were stripped away was humiliating. Nevertheless, it was process which enriched and grew me in ways I could never have anticipated.

“By age 40, one is free from doubts.” Ha! During my forties, I returned to Australia ‘for good’ … twice … once when I was 40 and again when I was 47. Though I must say that being comfortable in my own skin was important for riding a few rough rapids of life that decade.

“At age 50, one knows the ‘mandate of heaven’ (your purpose is in life).” That’s where I am at now. (Well, I’m a couple of years into my 50s.) Do I know ‘the mandate of heaven’? Why am I still studying?

“At age 60 one’s ear is attuned.” I saw this just today when an older lady cut my fringe (‘bangs’ in North American English). She was complaining about how negative some people are. Then she added, “But I’m too old to be bothered listening to them. I just ignore them.” Yes, now in her 60s, her ear is attuned to good and not bad.

“At 70 years of age, one can do whatever one wants because rules don’t apply anymore.” If I make it to 70, I might wear the sort of sparkly outfits with bouncy skirts that little girls wear sometimes. And I might get a purple foil in my hair. We’ll see.

A personal ‘mandate of heaven’

Let’s get back to the question of this 52-year-old woman still engaged in academia. Could it be that study IS very much part of the ‘mandate of heaven’ for me right now?

I took a ‘Strengths Finders’ assessment a couple of years back as part of a short secular hobby writing course. (Look up ‘Clifton Gallup Strengths’ if you’re interested.) According to my responses to their questions, my particular strengths are: (1) learner, (2) developer, (3) input, (4) connectedness and (5) restorative. Official descriptions of these categories can be found on the Clifton Strengths website or their book, but in short, I like to learn and I like to see others do well.

I was reminded of another English teacher … a Westerner like me who also taught English overseas. He was also impacted through living amongst a people who were very different to himself. No doubt his ‘stages of life’ were a little mixed up too.

Like Confucius, this man was a keen observer of life. He later took his observations and opinions and put them through the rigours of academia. The result was a movement that has influenced a great many other workers, myself included.

I am speaking of the somewhat mysterious man who popularised the concept of ‘the 3D gospel’. He is best known for his observation that people interpret life through various lenses of ‘shame and honour’ or ‘guilt and innocence’ or ‘fear and power’. He chooses to remain relatively unknown because of regular visits to sensitive parts of the world. (I need to be wise for similar reasons too.) If you’re interested, check out his blog on www.honorshame.com

A dream

My dream is that this Australian English teacher cum eternal student can make a significant contribution to God’s work during this decade even as I spend time in the books.

God has given us different roles in his kingdom work. He has given me a love for learning. Unlike when I was a teenage girl, though, I am not preparing for the future. No, in many ways, I am taking what has shaped me in the past and honing it. I am observing things and delving into those matters much more deeply, with the hope that approaches and programmes can be improved upon.

THIS is ‘the mandate of heaven’ (as Confucius expressed it) for me.

And so, in answer to my inner critic which tries to discourage me, I say this: ‘Study remains a part of the work to which God has called me right now. So stop being negative and start working with me to study well.’ When I did my short little presentation to the prayer group later that day (online, of course), I outlined the reasons for focusing on the particular topic I’m immersed in these days and their responses were encouraging.

In being a ‘reflective practitioner’, I am, in fact, fulfilling the task to which God has called me. It feels good. Even my inner critic is satisfied.

“Please pray that we will make it through this tough time with our sanity intact,” emailed friends whose situation seems unsustainable.

“It’s really hard. Please pray for me,” messaged another friend.

“People are dying of starvation or lack of medications.” A friend described the effects of lockdown on his country, asking for prayer.

“Most of our church members have lost their jobs. We can’t go back to our villages. Please pray for us.” That message came from a beautiful part of the world where many people work in the tourist and hospitality industry.

I’m happy to pray. Of course. But where do I even start?

Praying Scripture

We often present a list to God of what we think would be wise courses of action for him to take. I do it myself, and also send out regular prayer notes asking people to pray for X, Y and Z. But perhaps there are better ways to pray.

Lifting people and situations before God as I turn Scripture into prayer is one way of praying I find helpful. How can I pray Scripture for these friends and the people amongst whom they live who are finding life so exceptionally difficult just now.

‘All things work together for good’

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28 NIV

Surely this is a good verse to pray for my friends who feel like they are at the ends of their tether. It’ll all work out well in the end, right? There is a song that I often hear on Christian radio right now, which draws on this verse and contains the catchy line, “Every little thing’s gonna be all right.”

But will it? I think of earnest prayers offered by early church members for Peter and James when they were imprisoned by King Herod. (The tale is recorded in Acts 12 … we studied this passage in Bible Study Fellowship last week. That’s why it’s fresh on my mind.)

Oh yes, God worked for good when the apostle Peter was miraculously freed from the clutches of that evil monarch. But did God also work for the good of the apostle James, brother of John, when he let him be executed?

I’m not questioning God … that would be foolish … but just want to say that these matters aren’t straightforward. God’s idea of ‘good’ doesn’t always equate to our ideas of ‘comfortable’.

‘We must go through many hardships….’

Acts 14:22 is not a verse I have ever memorised in my half-century of Christian life. It’s probably worth memorising though, because it summarises the parting message that Paul and Barnabas left with each of the new churches they had established during their first missionary journey. (This passage is fresh on my mind because we studied it just today in the Bible Study Fellowship class I attend online these days.)

Then they returned … strengthening the disciples and encouraging [the believers] to remain true to the faith. “We must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God,” they said. Paul and Barnabas appointed elders for them in each church and, with prayer and fasting, committed them to the Lord, in whom they had put their trust.”

Acts 14:21b-23 NIV

To pray along these lines for my friends will require prayer and fasting if I am to follow the excellent example of Paul and Barnabas.

Ouch … fasting and praying … now the rubber hits the road, in a metaphorical sense, of course. Since we are all staying at home these days, ‘the rubber hitting the road’ is probably not the best analogy for having to put my words into action.

‘The Spirit helps us in our weaknesses’

As I consciously sit quietly in God’s presence and bring my friends to him, I sense a divine nudge to pray that verse about the Spirit helping us in our weaknesses.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.

Romans 8:26-27

Did you know that this verse comes immediately before the ‘All things work together for good…’ verse?

Hearts and minds

My friends are confused, frustrated and upset at the way things have turned out for them. Even those of us in comparative stability and comfort find ourselves perturbed by all that is going on around us.

It’s okay to be 忐忑不安 … a phrase without an exact English equivalent. It means ‘perturbed’, ‘disturbed’ or ‘upset’. If you look carefully, you can see that it is made up of a heart – 心 – flip-flopping around, sometimes facing up -上- and sometimes facing down -下. Regardless, our hearts are not – 不 – at peace – 安. The character for peace – 安 – incidentally, is a pictograph of a woman – 女- under a roof – 宀.

God searches our hearts (Romans 8:27). The ups, the downs, the confusion, the grief, the frustrations … he sees it all. I don’t understand even the complexities of my own heart, let alone those of my friends who are going through really hard times. But God does.

God not only knows our hearts but he also knows the mind of the Spirit (Romans 8:27). The Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God (Romans 8:27). God is getting the full picture – the state of the heart and the mind of his Spirit. And we have the privilege of praying along with the indwelling Spirit of God.

How do I pray?

Having sat with this verse for a while, I have changed the way I pray … some of the time, anyhow.

First, I come to the one who searches our hearts and I just present myself. “Here I am, Lord.” I don’t need to pretend to have it all together, or to work at coming in a sensible frame of mind. He searches my heart and understands it better than I know it myself.

Then I name my friends for whom I am praying. I name them in the presence of our all-seeing God. I don’t try and tell him what to do in their particular situations … not first up, anyhow. I just lift them in my prayers before the throne of Almighty God.

The Spirit is already interceding for them … and for me … in accordance with the will of God. I consciously commit them … commit us … to the care of El Roi, the God who Sees.

Conclusion

I wish that there would be ‘happy endings’ to the stories of my friends in terms of what the world sees as ‘happy endings’. I wish that God would intervene and made everything better.

Maybe God will do something miraculous for my friends. Whatever the outcome, the conclusion is actually going to be good … but not necessarily comfortable.

The Bible lays it out clearly in a passage in Romans 8 which comes just a few verses after the sections about how the Holy Spirit prays for us in our weaknesses and how all things work together for good . Paul, who warned new believers in the early church that there would be hardship, later sets out this powerful truth:

If God be for us, who can be against us? …. No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:31b, 37-8

Right now it’s tough for many people – if not most people – in our world. But those of us who belong to God have a hope that keeps us going.

Hardships have come. God searches our hearts and knows the mind of the Holy Spirit who prays for God’s people. All things work together for good. Nothing – not a virus, not economic disaster, not racial discrimination, not travel bans, not relationship breakdowns, not even death – NOTHING can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ.

And so I lift my friends before the throne of the One who Sees.

Amen.

Where do you belong? 

When the world comes tumbling down around you, who will be there for you no matter what? ‘Blood is thicker than water,’ they say. 

During these days of pandemic restrictions, I have enjoyed connecting online with extended family members in both Australia and the United Kingdom. It’s fun to see a computer screen full of faces which look SO similar to one another.

I’m proud to belong to this network of people who all trace their ancestry back to one particular couple who lived over a century ago – the father of the gentleman pictured below.

Drolma

Unlike my story, Drolma’s forbears did not cross from one side of the world to the other in a rickety old ship that was decommissioned soon afterwards. As long back as anyone could remember, her ancestors had lived in the mountains in a district that is still written on Drolma’s ID card as her hometown today. 

After she moved to the city for college, she met some Christians. Lonely, frustrated and confused, she was glad to go along to parties they organised. In the spring break, she helped out with some of their charity work. Before long, she was a regular attender at their meetings. The day came when she decided to join their ranks and was baptised. 

That was all very good and well until her family found out. “If you reject our religion, you reject your community,” her monk cousin explained. Indeed, the word for Buddhist in her language, ནང་པ (nang ba) literally means ‘home’ (ནང). To reject the one implies rejecting the other. 

With tears, her mother begged her to renounce her city-girl beliefs. “I don’t mind you wearing modern clothes. I haven’t even criticised your haircut. But this?  Go to the temple and burn some candles. Give them some money and say some prayers. Amend your foolish modern ways. You are Tibetan. You are Buddhist.” 

Hard times

That was three years ago. Drolma was a devout Christian for a season. But after she and her friends graduated from college, they all went different ways and drifted apart. Drolma found a teaching position in a town closer to her family. Her position in the community there, once so clear with its responsibilities and privileges, was now uncertain. Nevertheless, she went home for the New Year celebrations, though as usual, she abstained from participating in anything too religious. 

Then the virus hit her country. Her town remained unscathed, credited by some to the gifts given to the monastery, to the juniper burnt on fires, to the prayers chanted fervently and to the circuits some devout ones made one painful prostration after another around local holy places. The school in which Drolma taught did not reopen, and she stayed on in the mountains with her family. 

The disapproval and pressure from her family and community was getting to her. It had been a long time since she had opened her Bible. One day, when her mother suggested that Drolma go with her to the temple, Drolma agreed. That evening, her father handed her a string of prayer beads. “Do your bit for our family, daughter. We need all the prayers we can muster during these difficult days.” 

A forum

Drolma’s story is typical of many who come to faith in Jesus when they’re away from their families. Though they’re sincere when they believe, pressure from their home communities makes it hard for them to continue on in faith after they return. 

I was privileged to recently be part of a forum discussion on the topic of ‘resilience amongst Tibetan Buddhist background followers of Jesus’. The group was made up of wise, experienced workers, one of whom came from a Tibetan Buddhist background himself. 

The first question was this: ‘What are the greatest sources of pressure on new believers?’ ‘Family,’ everyone immediately responded. Whether overt or covert, the pressure new Christians feel from their home community is immense.

Fear was another source of pressure that was mentioned  – both fear of not knowing how to navigate life cut off from family, as well as fear of reprisal from local spirits which they no longer try to appease. Pressure from local authorities was the third difficulty mentioned. But everyone was clear – pressure from family is huge.

‘What has been helpful in helping new believers remain strong?’ the group was asked. The response was unanimous:  ‘Community’.  Build community. Maintain community.  Use social media and modern communication. Travel and visit regularly. Share stories of what God is doing amongst the community through recordings, booklets, or word of mouth. Whatever it takes, community is vital. 

Culture

I am a fairly individualistic Westerner. I admire people who strike out on their own, take some risks and successfully create a new life for themselves. My father and uncle both did that in the middle of last century, which is why half of our extended family is now based in Australia. 

People like Drolma, however, come from collectivist cultures. Her very identity is wrapped up in who she is within the context of her community.  After consultation with her community, if she were to physically leave her homeland and make a new life for herself elsewhere, as many have done, that would be okay. But to decide as an individual … let alone to decide to reject her community’s Buddhist faith … now that is  unthinkable. That decision is not hers to make. 

Bible times

The people whose lives are recorded in the Bible are perhaps more like Drolma than they are like me. Community was a big deal to them. What an individual did reflected on and affected the whole of the community. Just think about Achan with his pillage in the Old Testament, or Ananias and Sapphira whose selfish choices threatened the purity of the early church in the New Testament. 

The Bible teaches a lot about the importance of community and of striving for unity amongst the people of God. Jesus prayed for the community of believers in the garden on the night that he was betrayed. Love for one another was to be a hallmark of his followers. It was a theme that would be repeated over and over … one body with many parts; one building with many stones etc.

And yet community is very hard to build in parts of the world where there are very few believers, let alone amongst Christians who share a common language, culture and live in the same general area. Add to this the pressure that comes from a tight community in which Buddhism is part of the very fabric of society – a community that is reluctant to lose any of its own. 

Pray

Those who participated in the forum discussion I mentioned earlier felt that community was the key to building resilience amongst Tibetan believers. But how do scattered believers become a community?

The third and final topic discussed in the forum – what could be done to help – was addressed primarily by the Tibetan Buddhist background believers in the group. “Pray for us. Facilitate gatherings and trainings. But don’t come in and lead us. Don’t tell us what to do as outsiders. We need to be insiders building a community of God’s people here. Please get people from your communities to pray for us too. And pray especially for our leaders.” 

Hence this week’s blog post. I can never belong over there. I belong with my pale-skinned English-speaking family members. I am a welcome guest to the places in which Tibetan brothers and sisters live, but I don’t belong there. 

Will you pray for Tibetan believers generally to remain firm in their faith despite the pressures of family and community? Will you especially pray for leaders of Tibetan Christian communities? May they have wisdom and provision for all the needs of their communities – material, emotional, educational  and more. May Christian communities be well established there. 

When hard times come … when viruses hit … when economies come crashing down … who will be there for Tibetan followers of Jesus? 

May they have a place to belong.

I’m LOVING procrastinating from study by reading a ‘relevant novel’. Tents Against the Sky is written by an academic who, in his scholarly missives, doesn’t address the question which I am asking in my own studies. The author, Robert B. Ekvall, has also written a number of novels and our library had one of them … there just may be clues in there that will help me in my own musings about cross-cultural missions.  (Or maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to enjoy a good story.)

The following paragraph from the book I am reading describes a child monk waiting for his mother to come to the monastery in which he lives.  It is set in the 1940s.

“Dorje Renchen wriggled his impatient, rebel toes. All his excitement could find expression and release only in their frantic motion. They were hidden as he sat cross-legged in the proper attitude, demure as any one of the little bronze Buddhas that filled the image cupboard at the far end of the room. Presently all ten toes played an irregular tattoo on his bare thighs as he watched, through the latticed window, a line of moving figures cross the distant pass…. Among them … he felt sure, was his mother.” 

Robert B. Ekvall, ‘Tents Against the Sky’, p.10  (Good News Publisher – second edition – 1978)

That scene has lodged itself in my imagination. As a somewhat maternal spinster, my heart aches for the little boy who had been separated from his mother. As a woman who has travelled in the part of the world in which the story is set, I enjoy ‘visiting’ there again in my mind. As an amateur writer, I appreciate Ekvall’s use of imagery and the way he ‘shows, not tells’.

The author of the novel

Who wrote this story? How did he set the scene so beautifully? Surely he had lived there at some point. If the truth be told, I am probably following another rabbit trail of enquiry that keeps me from getting on with the job at hand.

Whatever the reason, today I investigated who this Robert B. Ekvall actually was. As I read a little of his story, I found a man that I could identify with, despite the decades and distance between us. An American missionary, a secular translator, writer and academic, he died an old man while I was still choosing a career. (Born before the turn of the last century, he died in 1983, when I was in my mid-teens.)

A true biography

As I child, I LOVED missionary biographies – and still do. Those stories no doubt impacted my own choices in life. Ekvall, however, left no missionary biography … not one that was published, anyhow. But he did write stories – stories that could have been true – stories similar to some of the little tales I have told too, but much longer and beautifully written.

Not only did he leave no missionary biography, but he formally finished ‘missionary work’ halfway through his working career. That’s what his supporters may have thought anyhow.

In fact, perhaps his most strategic work in a rapidly changing world came later. As an older man, he was intensely involved with supporting the Tibetan diaspora who were scattered around the world. As an academic, an ethnographer, he also worked with them to record information about their lives while it was still their lived reality.

His own life story would have made for a rather depressing book, actually. The poor man suffered tragedy after tragedy. As a child in China (where he was born to American parents), his father suddenly died, after which he was uprooted and taken to his passport country of the USA. Years later, back in China, his dearly loved wife also died. He and his only son were then imprisoned for a time in a Japanese prisoner of war camp. That boy went on to become a soldier and was killed in the Korean war. (The book I’m reading is dedicated “To the memory of Dave, my son, who was with me – all interest and help – when this was being written.”) He remarried, had two more children, then that wife died while the children were still young. An old man, he married a third time but the two went their separate ways.

Shaped but not defined by tragedy

Those tragedies may have shaped him but they didn’t define him. What did define him was his insatiable desire to listen to and learn about the peoples of Tibet. The publisher of the edition of the book I’m reading (the second publisher – it was republished 24 years after its first printing) describes Ekvall in this way:

“Robert B. Ekvall (was) a pioneer student of foreign cultures, a poet and a novelist with an unseen spirit ready to listen to both the inner voice of God and the cultural voices of men and women, especially the Tibetan people whom he knew so well.”

Victor L. Oliver, 1978, foreword to ‘Tents Against the Sky’

Plans thwarted again and again

I wonder if the author somewhat identified with the little boy who is described in the quote at the start of this blog post … sitting still, but wriggling impatient ‘rebel toes’. Events outside of Ekvall’s control brought life as he knew it to a screeching halt, and not just once but several times. In each instance, he was unable to control things let alone ‘fix’ anything. Survival was his only option.

Later in life, he yearned to return to China but couldn’t because of policies of the government of the time. Although he had an official invitation from the Tibetan community to visit India, where the Tibetan diaspora had established their headquarters, he was refused an Indian visa. (That was because he had served as an intelligence officer – a translator – for the US military during the war.) He was, however, allowed to spend time in Switzerland which had welcomed thousands of Tibetan refugees in the early 1960s.

Rebel Toes

The main character in the book I am reading, the boy monk with the impatient rebel toes, goes on to live an interesting life – one with many twists and turns. (Yes, I am bad … I have already skimmed the book just to see what happens.) That boy’s story ends with a horse, a tent, a wife and a Saviour.

Life is rarely straightforward. Some of us know what it feels like in this day and age to sit and wait as our world spins out of control. (Okay – that’s a gross oversimplification – the ubiquitous internet makes working from home well and truly possible.) Others are straining through various intense pressures – overwhelming work, illness, fear, financial stress and more during these strange times. Life may never be the same again.

I take encouragement from the story of Robert B. Ekvall, who lived through times as intense as any of us and more – the Sino-Japanese war, imprisonment, a world war (serving in intelligence on the front lines in Burma, no less), and personal tragedy several times over. His life’s direction changed dramatically each time as a direct result of what was going on around him. But just as some parts of life finished up forever, so other opportunities presented themselves.

There is no nice neat moral to wrap up this tale of an author I admire. All I can say in conclusion is this — the times in which we currently live will pass, life may never be the same again, but as long as we draw breath, there is still purpose and meaning in life.

Even if it isn’t what WE had planned.

(And now I really should get back to the many and varied tasks from which I am procrastinating by reading this excellent novel.)

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Ephesians 2:10 NIV

It’s a classic Easter verse, and for good reason. It is sometimes printed over a background of a stunning sunrise scene.

I think wistfully of years past, of sunrise services followed by hot cross buns and coffee by a lake in Melbourne or overlooking the plains of Western Sydney at a lookout in Glenbrook. The discomfort of leaving my cosy bed has been long forgotten. But there was none of that this year … not with the pandemic restrictions … not unless we were to keep moving and count it as ‘morning exercise’. And that would pretty much rule out hot cross buns and coffee with friends afterwards.

Yet the incredible truth of Easter has not changed.

Less appealing, but more intensifying because of the contrast, is the following verse in the chapter of Isaiah from which the ‘greeting card verse’ above comes:

“See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the LORD rises upon you and his glory appears over you.”

Isaiah 60:2 NIV

Darkness and Light

When I think of darkness, I think of deeds done in secret, illegal or illicit. Darkness doesn’t feel safe – you’re at risk of accident or being the victim of crime. Darkness is disorienting. It’s bad.

Light, on the other hand, feels safe and good. Everything is visible and transparent. Even when under a surgeon’s knife or dentist’s drill, we can be confident that nothing will be missed if there is a bright light above us.

That’s what this ordinary Australian Christian woman thinks when it comes to darkness and light. I did a quick search to see how Bible writers used the concepts of light and darkness. The list was incredibly long. I shall only mention a few verses as they relate to Easter and our hope in these dark days.

Movement from darkness to light

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

Genesis 1:1-2 NIV

The Bible starts with darkness. However, light is very quickly introduced into the creation narrative.

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness.

Genesis 1:3-4 NIV

And now, skipping right over Isaiah 60:1-2 (the ‘Easter verses’ quoted at the start of this blog post), let us jump to the very end of Scripture. There we read of brilliant light in the city of God – the city which we, the people of God, will one day call ‘home’.

The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp….

There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light.

Revelation 21:23, 22:3

How does God bring about this great transition from darkness to light? See Jesus’ claim:

I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.

John 8:12.

And that is the great message of Easter. Isaiah 60:1 looks to the light of God breaking into a dark earth, while Isaiah 60:19-20 looks even further ahead. Can you spot the connection between Isaiah’s prophecy about light below and that of John’s Revelation?

The sun will no more be your light by day, nor will the brightness of the moon shine on you, for the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory. Your sun will never set again, and your moon will wane no more; the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end.

Isaiah 60:19-20

Called from darkness into light

As any good Christian will tell us, we live in a ‘now-and-not-yet’ period. Yes, Jesus has lived, died, risen again, ascended into heaven and sent his Spirit to indwell his people. And yet there is so much more to come. The history-making events of that Resurrection Sunday are like the sunrise of Isaiah 60:1-2 in which the blazing glory of God is breaking into a dark world.

This current pandemic that has turned all our lives upside-down and even ended some slams into our faces the ugly truth that we still live in a broken world in which decay and destruction remain.

If only we could understand the mindset of a New Testament Christian. Their worldview of the spiritual realm was perhaps more accurate than that of post-Englightenment Christians like me today. They were better able to grasp the meaning of passages which suggest that we are part of a cosmic battle in which children of light are pitted against the powers of this dark world. There are many verses that illustrate this concept. I shall just quote one.

But you are … a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

2 Peter 2:9b

How then should we live?

As a woman who follows Jesus, the light of life, I want to ‘live as a child of light’ (Ephesians 5:8, 1 Thessalonians 5:5). I want to ‘walk in the light’ (John 8:12, 1 John 1:7). I want to live out in this broken, aching, decaying world what it means to ‘Arise, shine, for your light has come’ (Isaiah 60:1).

But what does that mean in practice?

It means interpreting the events of these dark days in the context of eternity. It does NOT mean pretending that everything is okay right now. But it does mean very deliberately looking towards the one who is light and centering myself … ourselves … in him. Just as the apostle John wrote the book of Revelation in obedience to the risen Christ to encourage people to stand strong during the dark days of the early church, so we too need to look to him now.

Complaining and arguing are two things the apostle Paul particularly warned against even as he urged early church Christians to ‘shine like stars in the universe’ (Philippians 2:14a, 15b). That is not to say that I can’t admit that I miss gathering as a family at Easter … that I am sad not to spend time with a family member who was to have come down for the Easter holiday … and yes, that I even miss crawling out of bed at some crazy time of the morning to go and watch the sun rise with friends on Easter Sunday. That is not to say that I can’t admit that I miss the affirmation and interaction that come with both teaching and learning face-to-face with flesh-and-blood people these days. That is not to say that I must only think about the positive things that have come out of these strange times. (Yes, there are some.) But there is a bigger reality and when I focus on that, our current troubles dwindle to a healthier perspective.

Hope

We know that the whole creation has been groaning, as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.

Romans 8:22-23

Now-and-not-yet – that’s the time in which we live. Children of the light, walking in the light – that is us. And yet it’s still only dawn, metaphorically speaking. God’s great light has broken into the world but there is so much more to come. Creation restored, sickness and sorrow long gone and society centred around God himself … all that is ahead of us.

We are living in a fallen, broken world, but this isn’t the end of the story. Arise! Shine! For the light has come! The glory of the Lord has risen upon us!

Happy Easter.

Flesh presses against flesh. The breath of my neighbour warms my cheek. The weight of my children leaning against my thighs reassure me that they are beside me and so safe even in this crowd.

I stand tall, snug and confident in my brand new cloak. I wove the fabric myself, after spinning the wool from cousin Jake’s sheep. I have never had a cloak like this before and likely never will again.

Here he comes. The Messiah – the one promised by our prophets – is about to make his grand entrance into Jerusalem. No more oppression. Or so we thought. Freedom. A new era. 

Hosanna!

Men jostle one another in their eagerness to line with palm branches the path along which a mother donkey carries our coming king, her foal by her side. We can see his head now as they come around the bend.

“Hosanna,” I yell. “Hosanna to the Son of David!”  The children join me, their voices clear and high. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” 

The figure draws close. People throw their cloaks down on the pathway, a poor man’s version of a royal carpet. Without another thought, I yank my brand new cloak off my shoulders and hurl it on top of the palm leaves. “Hosanna in the highest heaven,” I scream as the Promised One passes us. 

My children and I are making history. Surely this is the moment that the Psalmist was referring to when, inspired by the spirit of the Creator himself, he wrote, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD…. With boughs in hand, join in the festal procession up to the horns of the altar” (Psalm 118:26-27).

The kids and I join the throng that is following Jesus as he makes his way up to the temple. I look down and spot my lovely new cloak, now covered with dirty footprints of animals and people. I dare not stoop to pick it up … you could get crushed in a crowd like this.

The Temple

Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee, arrives at the gates of the sparkling gold temple. The children continue to yell and scream in excitement, “Hosanna to the Son of David!”

Carers dragging blind people push by me, desperate to get their loved ones to Jesus. A man with a wooden stick almost knocks me over as he unsteadily lurches through the crowd. A neighbour’s kid squirms past us and my two follow.

From inside the temple gates, I hear a sudden crash. Screams. Another crash. A flock of doves flutter over our heads. A few people force their way out of the gate, one almost knocking me over in his haste.

I stand on tip toes and strain to see through the gateway. All I can see are more heads. The report ripples through the crowd – Jesus had flipped over the tables of all the business people there. Some change foreign money to Jewish coins and others sell doves for sacrifices. 

“My house will be called a house of prayer,” he apparently said. “But you are making it a den of robbers.”  What? ‘My house’ … but this is God’s house, surely.  ‘A den of robbers…?!’ The religious leaders are not going to like this. Not one little bit.

Trouble

I look around for my children. There may well be trouble, and I need to keep them safe. Where are those two? I wiggle my way through the crowd, urgently scanning left and right. I squeeze though the gate. There they are … near the front of the crowd … oblivious to the impending storm. They are still yelling over and over, “Hosanna to the Son of David.” 

I’m close enough now to hear the formally dressed religious leaders ask Jesus, “Do you hear what these children are saying?” 

“Yes,” replies Jesus. “Have you never read, “From the lips of children and infants you, Lord, have called forth your praise?” (Matthew 21:16 and Psalm 8:2).

If looks could kill…….. Actually, ‘killing’ may not just be a figure of speech. Jesus spins around and strides out of the temple complex. I push between people, grab my two by the hands and drag them away.

An ice cold dread squeezes my heart. I literally shiver. If only I had my cloak. But retrieving it will have to wait for another time. Right now, I just want to get home. I need my children to be inside with me, my husband home too, and the door firmly locked.

Holy Week Announced

Things didn’t work out as I had anticipated that day. And yet, though I didn’t know it then, these events heralded the start of a week that would quite literally change the course of history.

And my two precious children had announced it. Well … they and some of the other kids in Jerusalem at the time, anyhow. From the lips of children … my children … God had ‘called forth praise’. Standing in the temple court, surrounded by chaos and distress, yet full of hope and confidence, they had yelled, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” 

Despite scrubbing it with soapy water until my fingers were red and sore, my new cloak was never the same again. But who cares? That day, the Messiah, the promised Saviour, had entered Jerusalem as a victorious king. God himself was at work to restore his creation to himself. 

I pull my worn-out old cloak around my shoulders and hurry to join my Christian friends. Life is hard. But our hope is sure.

I don’t consider myself a ‘touchy-feely’ person. I once heard an experienced lady who works cross-culturally advise singles to pay for a weekly massage so as to satisfy the need for ‘physical touch’. I spun around when I heard her words, my brows furrowed, though perhaps that had more to do with the traumatic therapeutic massage I had endured not long before. I have since come to enjoy socialising over relaxation massages in places where it is affordable. But it wouldn’t have been my top tip for how singles can thrive.

That lady must be suffering more than most from a lack of touch now. The official advice these days, of course, is ‘social distancing’, and not to go out at all if you can avoid it. For those of us living on our own, that means no touch … not with another human being, anyhow.

Don’t feel bad for me. Not only am I not particularly touchy-feely, but I also have a fat black cat to pat. Her Feline Highness was curled by my feet as I studied a BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) lesson this week on my own rather than in class. The theme of ‘touch’ stood out to me from the tale of the conversion of Saul / Paul on the road to Damascus. And I hadn’t realised just how much waiting, isolated from his new community, the poor man had to endure just a few weeks later.  

Saul / Paul

Saul stormed along the road to Damascus. A proud and passionate member of the Sanhedrin, Saul was determined to squash this sect which promoted the crucified Jesus as the Messiah. And then, as you know, he was suddenly brought to his knees by a blinding light. 

No longer proud or powerful, and unable to see, Saul’s friends led him by the hand into the city of Damascus. There, he prayed and fasted for the next three days. Ananias, a devout follower of Jesus, was then specifically directed by God to go and place his hands on Saul in order that his sight would be restored, just as Saul had seen in a vision. 

Lectio Divina is a lovely method of Bible meditation in which you look for what strikes you. As I read this particular passage from Acts 9, what jumped out at me was the contrast between Saul striding independently before his Damascus Road experience and the physical human contact between the humbled Saul and the people around him afterwards.

It takes humility to let others into our personal space. Perhaps I noticed that because of the absence of human touch in our lives these days. 

Waiting … for how long?

Saul was most clearly called by the risen Jesus himself to a very exciting ministry. That is eminently clear. Although he tried to get started on fulfilling his call right away, it soon became apparent that he had to wait. And wait. And wait some more. Our BSF notes said that he likely waited about nine years before his ministry finally gathered momentum. 

We all know a bit about waiting. Here in Melbourne, as in much of the world, in our socially distanced society, many of us can only wait.  Those who have useful skills during this crisis work hard and we are … or certainly should be … very grateful to them. Now more than ever, I honour healthcare workers, providers of essential services and, often unappreciated, our politicians who have to make horribly difficult calls about strategies that affect the lives of millions. 

The rest of us just wait. We wait for permission to touch again. We wait to resume life as best we can after such a crisis.

Psychologists tell us that it helps to know how long we have to wait. That’s why there are estimated travel time signs on the freeway and regularly updated reports of where we are in the queue when we are on hold on the phone. But, right now, we don’t know how long we have to wait. Some people don’t even know if they or people they love will even make it through this time. We can only wait. And wait some more.

Filling our days

Don’t worry about me. I have plenty to get on with while waiting. I am blessed in that about half of my regular activities are largely done online or at a desk anyhow, and they have quickly expanded to more than fill each day.  Somehow I still run out of time each day to wash the windows. 

Not so the lovely coaches at the ladies gym I used to frequent. (Actually, I still do online workouts distributed by the franchise. It benefits me and the business owner but not the coaches.) I called the proprieter of a fairly new cafe near my home, hoping that they did takeaway … but they don’t.  A massage therapist friend a few streets away is still legally allowed to provide remedial massages as medical treatment, but is it worth the risk? A hairdresser friend who owns her own business has the same dilemma. 

And that’s only my community. The fall out in our globalised world from both the virus and the economic repercussions is unfathomable.

Many of us try to do replicate something of our ‘normal lives’ in a socially distanced way, church included. Some of us are on a steep learning curve with technology. That includes a calm and collected British vicar, who gave many people a chuckle earlier in the week. He was speaking on the topic of waiting to hear from God while broadcasting the church service online. He was sitting a little too close to some candles. Suddenly his jumper (sweater) caught alight! He was unharmed, could see the funny side of it and has shared the moment with the world in a clip which went viral in the best sense of the word. If you’re interested, have a look at the video embedded in this article:  https://www.itv.com/news/westcountry/2020-03-21/oh-dear-i-ve-just-caught-fire-plymouth-vicar-has-close-call-during-online-sermon/  

Waiting submissively

I began this blog post by referring to how the significance of ‘touch’ in the story of Paul’s Damascus Road jumped out at me. Let me finish by sharing a couple of challenges that the BSF notes made which particularly resonated with me, bearing in mind that the notes were produced at least a year ago before any of this global COVID-19 chaos was ever even imagined.  They just happened to be distributed here in Australia for study two weeks ago … what good timing.

“Who or what has been torn away from you through suffering, separation or death? Have you been propelled into an unexpected, unfamiliar territory in a relationship, career path, financial crisis or illness? Hurts and loss strengthen our desire to heal and thrive. “

 (Bible Study Fellowship notes for lesson 6 of ‘Acts and the Letters of the Apostles’ page 1)

Most human interaction, visiting family members, swimming most days, exercise with friends, teaching and learning face-to-face, access to the library, enjoying the cafe culture, weekly Bible study and prayer with others … the list of what has been torn away from me is comparatively short compared to those of many others. Needless to say, the BSF study has been timely.

The BSF notes finished with several challenges, but it was the ‘waiting’ one that stood out to me.

“Joyful submission to waiting produces humility, trust and patience. …. Are you patiently and actively waiting….?” 

 (Bible Study Fellowship notes for lesson 6 of ‘Acts and the Letters of the Apostles’ page 4)

A favourite verse in context

The great apostle to us Gentiles, that same one who waited for years between his dramatic call to Christian ministry and actually getting underway, put it like this: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28 NIV).  If you look up that passage, you’ll see that the broader context is about waiting … waiting patiently … waiting with hope even as all of creation groans in frustration and pain. 

 The cat rubs against my legs, her shiny black coat leaving hairs all over my exercise pants. It must be almost dinner time. I delay, enjoying the warmth of living flesh against my own. 

And so we wait.  We wait patiently. Okay, so perhaps only the human in this household waits patiently … today, at least.

Throughout it all, I am grateful for the non-physical ways my spirit is touched by those around me, even if our skin can’t come within 1.5 metres of anyone else for who knows how long.  Like us all, I am getting on with life the best I can. And I wait.