Aussie Rambling Rose

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.

You hear the news. Your heart pounds. Your chest feels tight. You clench your teeth. You hunch your shoulders. Your mind races in a million directions.

You’re watching the TV news. 

A sign was taped to the TV at the aged care home I visited today. “In the interest of mental health, please do not watch the TV news in common areas. Residents may watch the news in their own rooms. Programs viewed in common areas are restricted to those with positive content.”

“Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
 I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10) 

Six degrees of separation

You know someone who knows someone who might have the virus. You saw ‘your’ someone just days ago and that someone saw ‘their’ someone a few days before that.

Your mind manically goes through the list of everyone you have seen over the last couple of days. You swallow hard, trying to sense if your throat is at all sore. Is that the start of a tickle? Is your chest a little tight? Is your forehead a touch warm? 

“Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
 I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10) 

Sitting

Today I walked by the river. I stopped and sat on a fallen log. The sun warmed my back. I admired the delicacy of a sprig of ‘Patterson’s Curse’, even though I know it’s officially a weed. A lizard darted in front of me.

I just sat, trying to still my busy mind. 

I remembered sitting along this same stretch of river almost five years ago, trying as best I could ‘to be still and know’ that Yahweh is God. That was just before a six-week patch when I would have radiation five days a week and chemo once a week. Back then, the odds of being able to be there again today weren’t even. 

“Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
 I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10) 

Still

When we stop, be still and focus on the God who is exalted, our jaws relax, our breathing slows and our galloping hearts settle into gentle rhythms.

Nothing has changed.

Yet everything has changed. 

I am over-the-moon grateful to be strong and healthy today. But even if I weren’t … even if things hadn’t turned out the way I had hoped and prayed for … God would still be God. 

“Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
 I will be exalted in the earth.”

Help us, exalted Lord, to be still. 

What does COVID-19 have to do with ‘pure joy’? 

Not much, I admit, except that it comes under the umbrella of what ‘Old Camel Knees’ calls ‘trials of many kinds’.  

James 1:2 says, “Consider it pure joy … whenever you face trials of many kinds….” (James 1:2 NIV).  Pure joy? Consider the tense times in which we live ‘pure joy’? The financial turmoil that many individuals and small businesses are facing as a result of the pandemic cannot be considered ‘pure joy’. The pain and suffering that some patients are enduring and the worry and even grief of their loved ones cannot be considered ‘pure joy’. Even the temporary inconvenience of supermarket shelves being empty and staples unavailable cannot be considered ‘pure joy’.

No. That was never the writer’s intent. It is not the trials that Christians are to consider ‘pure joy’. It is the opportunity to face such trials – we are instructed to consider that opportunity ‘pure joy’. 

That doesn’t sound much better. 

‘Old Camel Knees’

What out-of-touch-with-reality person would write such a thing?

‘Old Camel Knees’ was his nickname. We know him better as ‘James’, the author of the Biblical letter that bears his name. It is generally thought that he was the brother or cousin of our Lord Jesus during his days on earth.  Only after witnessing Jesus’ death and resurrection did he become a follower of Christ. He quickly rose to a senior position in the church. 

History suggests that James was a man of prayer. It was his custom to kneel to pray, hence the calloused knees and the nickname. And he knew a thing or two about trials. 

James was a senior leader in the early church which had been decimated by persecution. He had witnessed a lot and likely endured plenty too. Indeed, it would only be a matter of time before James would be martyred. Tradition suggests that he was thrown from a pinnacle of the temple and finished off by stoning. I wonder if he considered the opportunity to face THAT ‘pure joy’?

Scattered Christians

As for the original readers, they also knew a thing or two about trials. James addressed his readers as ‘the twelve tribes scattered among the nations’ (James 1:1). We know from history that the early Christian Jews scattered because of intense persecution (Acts 8:1). 

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds….” (James 1:2). I wonder what kinds of trials they had faced? Did they know something of the trauma, the financial hardships and the ignominy of refugees today? Did they continue to face discrimination and poverty because of their faith, even in other parts of the empire? 

The plight of refugees is a major theme in Scripture. It’s easy to lose sight of that. But I shall hold that thought for another time. Right now, I’m writing from a perspective of our community facing another kind of trial … plague.

A promise and a warning

Having established that both the writer and the original recipients of this letter understood trials, let us now turn our attention to why on earth ‘Old Camel Knees’ would instruct Christians to consider facing trials of many kinds as ‘pure joy’.

In what I am about to share, I am indebted to John Piper’s excellent pair of short meditations on the passage and recommend them to you. They can be found here:  https://www.desiringgod.org/scripture/james/1/labs

The reason Old Camel Knees exhorts his readers to consider facing trials as pure joy is that standing firm under trials brings life. That’s how he put it in James 1, anyhow. His argument goes like this: 

Standing steadfast under trial —> perseverance —> maturity and wholeness —> the crown of life (James 1:2-4, 12)

In contrast, James then describes the slippery slope of temptation. He actually used a slightly different Greek word for ‘temptation’ than ‘trial’ in this next section, though he clearly links the two. That argument goes like this:

Temptation —> dragged and enticed by evil desires within —> sin —> death

Ancient angst

Was James suggesting that we are saved because we stand firm under trial?  After all, he wrote, “Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.” (James 1:12 NIV)

The second scenario (temptation —> enticement —> sin —> death) is sobering, but it is helpful to remember that there is always the opportunity of repentance this side of death. It is also helpful to notice that temptation itself is not sin. It only leads to sin if we allow ourselves to be dragged and enticed by evil desires. 

Perhaps a better question to ask, though still sobering, is this: Does my perseverance under trial prove my love for God? 

(Actually, I am not alone in my discomfort about James’ emphasis on ‘works’. The issue of ‘grace’ versus ‘works’ has been hotly debated for at least as long as the church has been in existence. Both grace and works are taught in the Bible. We’re saved BY grace FOR good works. It isn’t an either-or option.)

COVID-19

So what does all this have to do with COVID-19? 

It’s all about our attitude. ‘Managing our minds’ has been a theme in my writing for a while, and this week’s blog post is no different. 

Will I approach this time of crisis in my community with an attitude that comes from being rooted and centred in Christ?

Will my church be a centre of stability and hope during these days of chaos?

Will we even go so far as to ‘consider it pure joy’ that we get to stand firm as Christ’s followers during this trial, confident in Christ come what may? 

I’m not saying that we should ignore our feelings and pretend that we’re okay. That would be akin to lying … lying to ourselves, to others and even to God. I am just saying that we must choose to think wisely, as mature Christians. We can go through this particular trial as Christians with a strength that comes from the Holy Spirit.

It’s all very well for me to write these words from the comfort of my home in a comparatively calm corner of the globe. I haven’t been quarantined for weeks on end, physically isolated from my community, with no meaningful work to fill my days. I haven’t watched family or friends struggle to breathe because of the infection, let alone been infected myself. And I don’t want to, either. 

All I have experienced personally so far has been the loss of my regular Sunday morning worship service (but our small group time is ever so more meaningful) and the concern of being almost out of the cat’s preferred litter.

A challenge

I sense that God’s challenge for me this week is this: Will I consider it ‘pure joy’ when I face trials of many kinds? 

Specifically, will I stay centred in Christ as the threat to my community becomes every greater over the coming weeks? Will WE stay centred in Christ as his community in this place? How will I manage my mind?

Christian people the world over are praying earnestly for an end to this epidemic. I see prayerful claims of ‘victory over the virus’ (nice alliteration … surely God will be impressed). I have been moved by a calls for prayers that God would preserve the lives of particular loved ones. I am not saying we should not ask for what we need. Of course we should.

But am I also praying that Christians will stand firm in the face of these trials? Am I praying that those affected will think and interact and live in such a way that reflects our grounded-ness in God and brings him glory? Am I praying that my brothers and sisters in Christ will be radiate peace in the midst of panic? And am I living it myself? 

To be honest, I don’t really know to pray. Or how to act. Thankfully, Old Camel Knees reminds us that God is the source of wisdom and we need but ask for it. He also reassures us that “God … gives generously to all without finding fault” (James 1:5). I don’t have to ‘have it all together’. I don’t need to know the answers. 

An ancient Israelite king led the people in a powerful prayer during a time of crisis. They prayed, “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” (2 Chronicles 20:12b). Perhaps that prayer is enough for us too.

Another chocolate muffin?

Today’s blog post has been heavy. Let me finish on a lighter note. Chocolate muffins. 

I currently have several delicious chocolate muffins in my freezer.  They were a gift. I had thought that freezing them would prevent me from overindulging, but I have since discovered that frozen chocolate muffins are even better than fresh ones. Not helpful. 

It’s fine to have an occasional treat. I’m currently tracking what I eat on an app and my FitBit keeps track of how much I exercise. A treat is just fine so long as energy input doesn’t regularly exceed energy expenditure.

I sat on my porch yesterday afternoon. It was a glorious autumn day. As I meditated on James 1,  I enjoyed a chocolate muffin. But they are rather small. A second would be nice. And it is Sunday … a day of rest … a day when the rules don’t apply … right? 

The desire for another chocolate muffin is surely not a trial. But it is a temptation. Almost two thousand years ago, the man of prayer known as ‘Old Camel Knees’ also wrote that, “… each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed….” 

Hmmm … the desire for a second muffin isn’t sin, but my evil desires are indeed dragging me away and enticing me. Sin is getting closer.  

Wisdom is needed. And acknowledgement that this is a temptation. I guess that being ‘real’ about where I am at is wisdom.

Right. It’s clearly time for a walk. Not for a second muffin. 

The unchanging Father of heavenly lights

Treats are not bad. James went on to write, “Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows….” (James 1:16-17).  Surely chocolate is a gift of God … in moderation. 

And as we face much MUCH bigger issues than chocolate muffins, we can also face them confident that we belong to the one who does not change like shifting shadows.

It took quite some mental gymnastics to consider the opportunity to resist a second muffin ‘pure joy’. My initial response to the desire was not, “Oh goodie, I get to persevere.” And I certainly wouldn’t have even attempted to consider that opportunity ’pure joy’ had I not been in James 1 right there and then. 

Let me add that only one muffin was consumed in the production of this week’s blog post.

Managing my mind in ‘real trials’ is going to take a bit more mental discipline.

It was the 24th February 2020 according to my calendar. It was also the first day of the Tibetan Year of the Rat in the year 2147 in the Tibetan calendar. And it was my first day back at the desk after a long time away with travel and then a little annual leave.

It was time to implement my New Year’s Resolution. 

Let me copy what I penned in my journal that day as I devoutly started the semester with a mini-retreat.

“An eagle soars high above, its beady eyes scanning the landscape beneath. It takes in everything yet is distracted by nothing. Its purpose is clear. Food.

“Once it spots its prey, it zooms in, feet down, claws outstretched, and grabs it. 

“Violent, that picture is, but helpful as I think about my attitude to life. This year, with God’s help, I will be more like a soaring eagle and less like a playful puppy.” 

Actually, my ‘official’ New Year’s Resolution is less vivid but it’s along the same lines. My resolution is to put in solid blocks of time at my desk each day. 

Today’s Priority

Today is Saturday. It’s my chance to catch up with domesticity. I jot a list of tasks I would like to achieve before the day is out. My top priority today, however, is to write. To write this blog post, in particular. I write because it sharpens my focus. I write because I sense that God has asked that of me. And if you find it helpful to read along, that’s nice. 

First, though, I put on a load of laundry. Then I sit on the bed and read a chapter of my ‘Qualitative Analysis’ book for college, because the cat doesn’t like the washing machine and I like to think that she appreciates my presence as she quakes at the spin cycle. Then I hang out the washing and think about cutting the grass. No … I don’t want the clean clothes to get grassy … the grass can wait until this evening. I clean out one shelf of the pantry, as planned, but then go on to a second because it was there. I’m almost out of eggs and coconut oil. And toilet paper. Perhaps I will walk to the shops and get some exercise … later. Right now, I must FOCUS. 

I switch on the computer. Oh look – new emails. In response to one, I rework a rather important document … several times over, actually. In response to another, I message a friend, and then we chat for a while. By now, the day is slipping by. If I am going to walk to the shops, I had best go now.

After a lovely walk, I come home with eggs, coconut oil, a locally grown zucchini and pesto. There is still no toilet paper to be bought for love or money because panic has made some people in Australia act strangely. 

And now … FOCUS.  

Though my freshly washed clothes are dry now. And then I could cut the grass.

Biblical Insights?

I move away from the computer and any other distracting gadget in order to brainstorm the outline for this blog post. Is it ridiculous, I wonder, to ask if the Bible has any advice about how to focus? After all, to separate secular and spiritual is just a modern idea (post-Enlightenment) and not particularly Biblical. 

A line of Scripture from a song springs to mind: “Give me a totally undivided heart….”  What is that song? What Psalm is it from? I dare not switch on a gadget to use the Bible concordance or to find the song, because I just KNOW that I will get distracted.

(PS The verse about having ‘an undivided heart’ comes from Psalm 86:11, and the prayer is that God will ‘unite our hearts’ so that we may fear his name. I had been meditating on that the day that I wrote the opening section of this post about a soaring eagle. The song I am humming is called ‘Purify my heart,’ by Eugene Greco.) 

I think it is okay to ask God to help me focus not only on him, but also on the work to which he has called me. It doesn’t mean that other necessary and valuable tasks don’t get done. But it does mean that I focus … with his help.

Strategies

There are a few strategies that help me as I struggle to focus. They are (1) mind management, (2) the pomodoro technique and (3) temptation identification. 

Managing our minds is something that the Bible exhorts us to do over and over, though it’s normally in the context of meditating on God and his word. I have written on this before. Surely the discipline of mind management plays into my current dilemma of being distracted by good and necessary but lower priority tasks and opportunities.

The pomodoro technique is something that I picked up through an online writing class I took a couple of years ago. In short, you take a timer, set it for 25 minutes, and then start writing, ready or not. The Italian man who copyrighted the concept, a university student struggling to focus, had an oven timer shaped like a tomato. ‘Pomodoro’ is Italian for ‘tomato’. Yes, it’s that simple. 

Temptation come in many forms. Had I had my computer, phone or iPad at hand when I started to draft this article, I would have used it to look up the lyrics to that song or the Psalm I referred to earlier. However, the chances are that I once I got online, I would have also checked the news headlines, glanced at social media, checked emails and seen then paid my gas bill. These things are not temptations in and of themselves. The temptation is simply that I do not focus on what needs to be priority right then and there. That’s why I chose to move away from my gadgets and use good old-fashioned paper for a first draft. 

I implemented these three strategies, despite the grass still being long, the clothes ready to bring inside and the desire to cook banana muffins titillating the edge of my consciousness. And what do you know? It’s still Saturday and this post is written! 

A Day at a Time

It’s been 13 days since I implemented my New Year’s Resolution. So far, it’s actually gone quite well, delightful distractions notwithstanding. But it’s not easy. It’s a day-by-day, sometimes moment-by-moment, effort. 

I want to be like that eagle, keeping everything in view but with my focus clear. Unlike that eagle, however, I don’t want to swoop down and catch a poor little defenceless creature in my claws. That’s where the analogy breaks down. I want to stand tall, my head held high, knowing that I have used well the resources of time, energy, gifts and abilities that the Good Lord has allocated to me. May his name be glorified as a result. 

Three years ago, I bought a FitBit. I diligently recorded every mouthful I ate on the FitBit app, and tracked steps and weight. I knew that I needed to get in shape. Doctors had told me in no uncertain terms that getting down to a healthy weight was the best thing I could do to reduce the chances of a recurrence of the cancer I had in 2015. 

My good intentions lasted a year. 

From time to time, I have picked up where I left off. My FitBit app shows me that over the past three years, despite some impressive ups and downs, my net weight loss amounts to 700 grams. 

Yes, this is yet another blog post about a middle-aged woman’s efforts to live a healthy lifestyle. If you choose to read it, please be assured that I am NOT sitting in judgement of anybody who, like me, struggles with weight. I am well aware that there are a myriad of reasons for why we find ourselves in these predicaments. I am preaching to one woman and one woman only … myself.

An inspiring book

I’m currently reading an inspiring book. I’m not quite ready to recommend it, having only read six of the 19 chapters, but it has got me thinking. This blog post isn’t a book review. Nor am I regurgitating the contents of the book. I’m simply giving credit where credit is due. The book that has stimulated my thinking is ‘Made to Crave’ by Lysa TerKeurst, published by Zondervan in 2010. 

The Bible, of course, is even more inspiring when it comes spurring us on to live well. It does not talk about dieting in the sense that we think of ‘diets’ today. Mind you, there were some pretty strict dietary laws given to ancient Jews, and there are plenty of instructions and examples given concerning both fasting and feasting. To my surprise, I realise now that there is also quite a bit written about people’s healthy … or unhealthy … relationships with food in the Bible. Chewing over this idea in a metaphorical sense could well be the missing ingredient in my ‘battle with the bulge’. 

A shocking verse

“They willfully put God to the test by demanding the food they craved” Psalm 78:18 NIV.

What? I couldn’t believe that the author of ‘Made to Crave’ would take a random verse and apply it to weight loss efforts! 

Like a good Bible student, I went to the Good Book to examine the context. It turns out that the ancient Israelites did indeed put God to the test by demanding the food they craved. The context was an account of the Jewish desert wanderings. Yes, there was more to it than just the food issue. But the fact that they tested God by demanding the food they craved is indeed significant. 

So then, like an educated Bible student, I checked out the Hebrew word translated in that verse as ‘crave’. What I learnt literally made me gasp in astonishment. The Hebrew word translated ‘to crave’ is actually ‘nephesh’ –  the same word that is often translated as ‘soul’ or ‘living being’. When the word ‘nephesh’ is attached to the word for ‘food’, it has the sense of drawing life from that food, or ‘craving’ food. No wonder God was upset at the ancient Israelites’ demands for the food they craved and interpreted it as a willful test of his Lordship. Instead of drawing their identity and life from their God, they longed for tasty tucker.

Enemy tactics

The writer of the book ‘Made to Crave’ also makes a big deal of 1 John 2:15-16 – “Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world – the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life – comes not from the Father but from the world” (NIV).

Again, I thought, “Pfft – over-spiritualising food choices, she is.”  And again, I dug into the Scriptures.  And yes, there is a lot more in 1 John than just deciding what we eat. And I very much doubt that the aged apostle John had dieting in mind when he penned those words. 

So why did John write this way? We actually know why with 100% clarity. Immediately before giving those early Christians these instructions, John set out his reasons for writing to them. He aimed to assure his readers that they belonged to God and had overcome the evil one (1 John 2:12-14).

That was then. This is now. The enemy’s tactics are the same. How does the Evil One try to lure us to himself and keep us from us ‘overcoming the world’? According to this passage, his tactics are three-pronged: (1) the lust of the flesh, (2) the lust of eyes and (3) the pride of life. 

An ancient strategy

Lysa TerKeurst, the writer of the book I’m reading, points out that this three-pronged approach is as ancient as the Garden of Eden. When Eve was considering whether or not to succumb to temptation, she  “… saw that the fruit of the tree was (1) good for food and (2) pleasing to the eye, and also (3) desirable for gaining wisdom….” (Genesis 3:6).   (I added in the numbers to correlate with the three tactics of the evil one, listed above, as outlined above and in 1 John 2:15-16.)  

Millenia later, Jesus, who was referred to as ‘the last Adam’ (1 Corinthians 15:45-48), would face the same three-pronged temptation. Would he (1) turn stones into bread (succumb to the lust of the flesh), (2) accept from Satan the kingdoms in all their splendour (succumb to the lust of the eyes), or (3) command angels to save him after throwing himself off the temple (succumb to the pride of life)?  

‘Lust of the flesh,’ the first tactic of the enemy, surely covers a lot more territory than just an unhealthy relationship with food. And yet food is clearly an issue, as exemplified by the temptations of both Eve and Jesus. And, let’s be honest here, craving unhealthy food is my temptation as well, rather than other more exotic forms of ‘lust of the flesh’. 

Clearly, the bottom line is that I need to crave a life-giving relationship with my Lord rather than with anything else … unhealthy food choices, in particular. But that is easier said than done. 

Reasons and excuses

I’m the first to recognise that weight issues can be physical.  For years, I blamed a ‘sluggish thyroid’ for being sleepy, slow and chubby.  (As an aside, my thyroid has picked up the pace now that gluten is out of my diet.) And then there are nutritional deficits that cause us to crave certain foods.  I once heard that chocolate contains magnesium, which is why we sometimes just HAVE to have chocolate. I see nothing wrong with a square of dark chocolate now and then. It’s consuming the whole bar that is the issue. 

Emotional factors are also an obvious culprit for us craving certain foods. I have always equated chocolate with reward, comfort and love. In fact, I was once a little girl who was small enough to climb through a ‘doggy door’ to help an elderly neighbour who had walked out without her keys. (I thought the neighbour was elderly at the time … she was probably not ancient at all, actually.) The kind lady rewarded me with a whole block of chocolate … I felt like a millionaire!

And then there is the frantic pace of life that many of us embrace these days. Who has time to shop and chop and cook and clean? Surely a successful modern woman has better things to do?  Yes, yes, I know … there are plenty of healthy options that are quick and easy, and yes, we don’t have to be quite so busy……

So how do we overcome the ‘lust of the flesh’ when it comes to making good food choices?

Overcoming

Managing our minds is surely a big part of the answer. Scripture is full of instructions and exhortations to meditate on God, his work and his Word. We are to be transformed by the renewing of our minds. We are urged to think about what is good and noble and right. We are told to take every thought captive to Christ. So why don’t we just DO it? 

I don’t want to make excuses for my own failure to get in shape, but I honestly don’t think it is all our fault. We are not alone … we live in an age where obesity is more of a problem than ever in some parts of the world, including Australia. Supermarkets are full of artificial foods that have been engineered to last a long time and maximise profits. Our health hasn’t been the highest priority for those who make this stuff. Highly paid professionals design packaging and advertising which hooks us into buying products that we know full well aren’t good for us. Certain foods are said to be somewhat addictive, meaning that we keep buying more. I could go on and on, but I think you get my drift. 

The Evil One is alive and well, and is messing with God’s good creation. He tries to lure us away from God through ‘the ‘lust of the flesh’ (as well as ‘the lust of the eyes’ and ‘the pride of life’ … topics beyond the scope of this post). The temptation of ‘living to eat’ rather than ‘eating to live’ is only one of his tactics, but it is one I know well. 

Lent

I don’t usually do anything special for Lent.  The forty day period preceding Resurrection Sunday in the Christian calendar reminds us of the forty day period of Jesus’ fasting in the wilderness before overcoming Satan. It also harks back to the forty years of the ancient Jews’ wandering in the desert … those same people who had demanded food they craved and so tested the Lord. 

This year, however, I have a resolution. I do not plan to give up chocolate … after all, chocolate contains magnesium. I don’t plan to rule out festive foods either … even though Lent is the season for fasting rather than feasting. But I do plan to be a lot more mindful about what I eat and when. I’m talking about ‘managing my mind’. 

Throughout Lent, with God’s help, whenever I find myself craving an unhealthy food, I plan to consciously stop that train of thought and turn my attention to the one who is the giver of all good things. I want to draw my source of life from the origin of life itself. 

And then, after using the craving as a prompt for worship, I shall make a sensible choice about whether or not to enjoy a treat. 

I would say, ‘Watch this space’ to see whether or not I stick to my good intention, but it would be more apt to say, ‘Watch this waist’. 

Days 1 and 2 of Lent are over as I write these words. There are 38 more days to go. 

I hope that’s long enough to establish a healthy habit for life. 

“Guilty until proven innocent” … that is how we all felt on a short flight I took recently. We were guilty of nothing more than possibly … just maybe … incubating a virus. The likelihood that we were contagious was small given that this was just an ordinary flight from Thailand. We were far from the epicentre of the coronavirus outbreak 😷 . As we disembarked in Malaysia, we were met by fear-inspiring figures in white hazmat suits, aiming their ‘guns’ (some sort of thermometer) at each of us in turn before allowing us to proceed. Several middle-aged women sat forlornly in a roped off section nearby. 

Disclaimers

1.  What this blog post is NOT is an update on or explanation of the coronavirus situation. That I can’t do, first because the situation changes every day, and second, I am just an ordinary teacher / translator / writer and not qualified to comment. However, I can recommend a website which I often check these days:  

https://www.worldometers.info/coronavirus/

2.  I’m not exactly an impartial writer. Everything I hear about the fear and panic in China at the moment, I filter through the experiences I had in 2003. Back then, I lived in a SARS hotspot and developed a cough and low-grade fever. After ‘doing the right thing’ in terms of instructions given by authorities to the public, I went to be checked. The next thing I knew, I was quarantined in a SARS-dedicated hospital for observation and further investigations. It turned out that I didn’t have SARS, but a different type of atypical pneumonia. I’m very grateful that I never did develop SARS despite my proximity to so many who had it. I was in hospital for five l-o-n-g days.

3.  This time, however, I am writing from the comfort of my home in Melbourne.  I do not write as an ‘insider’ anymore. Last week, I returned home from Asia (NOT China). I confess that I have since taken my temperature on the odd occasion just to be reassured that I’m not harbouring any nasty germs. And I still sanitise my hands before mingling with other people for their sakes JUST in case.

Fear

People were fearful back in the time of SARS. Some said that the atmosphere then was like that of the days of the much earlier Japanese-Chinese war. The atmosphere in China these days sounds similar.

Fear and suspicion abound even down here in Melbourne. It is appropriate that people who have recently returned from China should be quarantined for a period, whatever their nationality, but it is not right that every person of Chinese heritage be treated with suspicion. And yes, that has happened in my neighbourhood. That story is not mine to tell. 

Fear of God, however, is something that Christians should embrace. Having a proper perspective of God during times like this puts scary situations into perspective. That is what gave Christians through the millennia courage to step into the streets at times when most people were fleeing to the countryside in attempts to evade illness.

The early church was known for its loving care of plague victims in the days of the Roman empire. Medieval monks served their communities in such times too. Christians today in Wuhan are showing this same confidence as they face this difficult situation. A pastor in Wuhan writes, “Christians are not only to suffer with the people of this city, but we have a responsibility to pray for those in this city who are fearful, and to bring to them the peace of Christ.*” 

Restrictions 

Christians can face whatever life throws at us with confidence in our identity as part of the eternal bride of Christ. Nothing can keep us from our true identity – not disease, not persecution and certainly not temporary restrictions on our liberties.

As Christians, we submit to authorities over us (Romans 13). China is uniquely placed to buy time for scientists to work out how to manage this virus before it spreads too far. Individual rights are readily relegated to the background when the community is threatened. Imagine trying to effectively impose home quarantine on the residents of Melbourne or Sydney for weeks on end – no sports, no outdoor play, and only one member of each household allowed out every few days to pick up groceries. That is what is happening in many parts of China.

Whether you agree with the restrictions on movement and requirements of masks or not, many cities in China are enforcing them. Individuals who have recently travelled anywhere at all are required to remain isolated from others. Authorities use drones with cameras and loudspeakers to identify and break up mahjong games and people doing morning exercises in groups, as well as to identify and warn people who are outside without masks.

Let me tell you about a few video clips I have seen online. A puzzled older lady looks up at a drone, which is hovering overhead and talking! (There is a ‘real person’ monitoring the cameras and speaking through the drone’s loud speakers from a control centre.) “Yes, Auntie, this is the drone talking to you. Go home now and wash your hands.” An older man, enjoying the sun on his flat roof, leaps to his feet when the drone zooms close and he suddenly hears, “Grandpa, go inside. Yes, you, the old man in pyjamas cracking seeds on the rooftop, go inside. You can crack seeds inside.” A small child is playing in a deserted village lane way. Again, a drone swoops low and announces, “Little friend, this is no time to be playing outside. Go home now. This is important. It is no joke. Run, little friend, run!”

A different attitude

Christians should have different attitudes to this crisis than the average atheist. We should be salt and light in our communities … communities that are often struck by fear. Social media and other forms of communications mean that community is alive and strong despite the lack of face-to-face interaction.

Yet social media can also whip up squalls of fear and panic. One example of this, sadly, was when rumours of the virus being carried by household pets led to the tragic and senseless dispatch of cats and dogs out the windows of tall buildings. I am NOT cutting and pasting footage I have seen online of that……

Churches are not meeting in many places in China these days and numbers are down even amongst members of some Chinese churches in Australia. While I am not criticising the precaution people are taking in not meeting together, I do hope and pray that Christians will support one another in standing firm and without fear during these crazy days. This is one instance when online support networks are especially helpful.

Fear and facts

Fear doesn’t always take notice of facts. Statistics suggest that coronavirus is not as deadly as the media make it out to be. Although a small percentage of sufferers will die from the virus, most will get over it and many only ever have a very mild case of it. There is a lot of uncertainty though because it’s so new still. They’re the facts.

It’s quite another matter, however, to live day in and day out in an atmosphere of fear and suspicion. In this environment, Christians can live fearlessly in (online) communities, confident that there is a God who offers hope for eternity. 

Martyrdom

Dr Li, a 34-year-old ophthalmologist, is being hailed as a martyr for the people. He was the whistleblower of Wuhan who first drew attention to what he initially called another outbreak of SARS. That was back in December. He was reprimanded by authorities for unsettling the public at the time, though of course he has since been proved right. 

Dr Li didn’t have to care for fellow citizens of China who succumbed to this disease. He was an ophthalmologist, one of the safer medical professions, it would seem. He was one of the first to recognise the danger, giving him plenty of time to flee. A strong young man, statistically he should have stood a good chance of surviving even had he developed it. Perhaps he was exposed to a high concentration of the virus? Dr Li passed away from the disease last Friday, leaving a wife and two children, one as yet unborn. 

Was Dr Li a Christian? Some reports suggest that he was, though the popular media hasn’t picked up on that. I very much hope so. Regardless, he exemplified everything that Christians should be in a crisis like this – focused on others and fearless despite understanding the danger of caring for these patients better than most. He worked to bring health and wholeness to a system and community that was sick.

Our response

What is our response to this intense situation? 

First, let us “be transformed by the renewing of our minds” (Romans 12:2). It takes real discipline to manage our minds when everyone around us is panicking. We need one another to stand firm. As in ages past, this attitude is what will set Christians apart.

Second, let us pray for our brothers and sisters in Christ in affected areas. Let’s pray not only for their physical well-being, but also their emotional health during the tense atmosphere in which they live. May they focus on Jesus and be salt and light in their communities. I referred earlier to a letter from a pastor in Wuhan. It is worth a prayerful read. The link is at the end of this blog post.

And finally, let us remind ourselves that our citizenship is not in this world but in God’s heavenly kingdom. As such, let us prayerfully work with him to see his kingdom come, his will done on this afflicted earth during these stressful days even as it is in heaven. 

Just the same, I am SO looking forward to this madness being over, and the sooner the better!

(PS: I am penning these thoughts half a world away from the epicentre of the virus. When difficulties next come my way, please interrupt my grumbling to remind me of these sentiments.)

* The translated letter from the pastor in Wuhan quoted above can be read in full here: https://www.chinasource.org/resource-library/chinese-church-voices/wuhan-pastor-pray-with-us

Before I knew how much I don’t know, I had opinions.

Such opinions led me a while ago to commit to the monthly educational sponsorship of a child in a remote area in the country in which I write this update. She lives at home and goes to school in her home community. Her school fees and a nutritious meal most days are provided through a local organisation with ties to a network I trust. Ask me privately for more details if you’re interested. I haven’t pursued meeting that child or seeing that programme while in her country. She lives in a very remote area and it isn’t practical.

I am pleased that ‘my’ sponsor child gets to stay at home while she gets an education. (Not that she is ‘mine’ in any sense except an organisational one.) Many other children in her position end up moving far from all that is familiar to them and living in a children’s home.

I used to think that removing a child from his or her community was bad – very bad. Now I have an inkling of how ignorant I am. There are many factors to consider. Some families want their children to have opportunities they can’t provide. Others aren’t in a position to care for their children. And yes, perhaps some people have been tricked or manipulated. It’s complex.

I have met a number of adults these past weeks who spent at least part of their childhood in children’s homes or boarding schools far from their families. Some of these homes are run by Buddhists. Some are non-religious. And some are run by Christians.

The country

Scattered around the city in which I write this blog post are lots of children’s homes, as well as boarding schools. A driver I met lives as simply as possible so that his two children can attend a Montessori boarding school. His story is not unique. Not everyone can do that but far-flung families with connections with well-meaning people in major centres sometimes send at least one of their kids to a children’s home.

What is actually best for the child? Is it better to keep a child in his or her community and only give him or her access to a very basic education, if that? Or is it better to remove a child from their community and give him or her a good education? And what should be done when a community can’t provide materially or emotionally for a child?

Before I continue, let me add that this country has done amazingly well in improving the state of education in recent years. (Christians have played a role in that too.) Literacy has shot from 5% in 1952 to 66% in 2015, according to UNESCO (see https://unesdoc.unesco.org/ark:/48223/pf0000247317 p15). That’s no small achievement!

Jena’s story

(Jena’s story is a mixture of stories from people I have met or heard about. Her story is not exactly fictional but neither is it biographical.)

“I still remember the night our mother passed away. I was nine years old. My life was turned upside down after that … and it wasn’t just because I was now motherless. 

“’Home’ back then was high up in the mountains. The air was fresh and our food organic. Yet there were were nights our stomachs grumbled with hunger and we shivered with cold. Our parents were tenant farmers who worked on terraced fields. Regardless of whether the crop was good or bad, they had to pay the landlord every year. To make the payments, Dad picked up itinerant labouring work here and there whenever he could.

“When Mother was sick, kind neighbours helped care for us. But no sooner had her fragile frame been cremated on an open fire, as is our custom, my sister and I were put on a bus with a distant relative. Down, down, down the mountains we went, one hairpin bend after another. We spent most of the journey hunched over plastic bags, retching. 

“We were delivered to a children’s home in a noisy colourless city. That was the last we saw of our relative. He had accomplished what was needed. We were just girls, too young to care for ourselves let alone anyone else. Foreign women with white skin and yellow-brown hair ushered us into the home, washed us, clothed us, fed us and put us into clean beds. 

“Days led to months and months led to years. We learned the national language, as well as English. We went to school from Sunday to Friday every week. When we finished high school, we were able to find traineeships which provided room and board. The Christian ladies who ran the home never forced us to deny the religion of our home area but neither did we practise it anymore.  What we did experience was love.

“Years later, when I worked in a Christian hospital, I decided to get baptised. Nobody forced me to do that. It just made sense.”

A trekking guide’s advice

(The following paragraph is accurate – it is not a conglomeration of stories.)

“If you want to give money to a children’s home, come to my village. I won’t pass on the money – you can do that yourselves. I just want low caste kids like I once was to get a good education.”

We were sipping masala tea in a tea house, halfway down a 1000 metre descent, trudging one weary step after another. The tea had a kick to it. It was the spiciest tea that I have ever drunk … not that I have drunk much spicy tea in my time.

Our guide pulled out his book of traveller’s photos and hand written testimonials, a book carefully wrapped in a padded envelope. At my suggestion, because of the storm we walked through, it was now also encased in a ziplock bag. Opening it with pride, he showed us pictures of fresh-faced foreigners with strings of orange marigolds around their necks sitting at a ceremonial table with leaders from the children’s home in his village. 

“Don’t give money to children’s homes unless you know the people concerned,” he cautioned us. “There are greedy, corrupt people out there who will show you pictures that tug at your heart strings, but they’re frauds. Maybe they do have a children’s home. Maybe not. Either way, they live very comfortably themselves by convincing donors to give money,”

“Foreigners sometimes run children’s homes and they usually do a good job. They are less likely to be in it for their own gain,” he added. Was that to make us feel better about being foreign? Was it true? I sure hope it is true of faith-based homes.

“Come to my village,” he urged us again. We did not, but I was more glad than ever that I sponsor that little girl’s education in a mountain school perhaps not dissimilar to the one we had passed on this mountainside just an hour earlier.

Considerations

Dreadful things have happened world over where there are power imbalances. This is particularly rampant in institutionalised care. The media in my home country frequently covers injustices of years past that happened in faith-based institutions. And yet, just because power imbalances can be abused, does that mean that ALL children’s homes are bad? Are there situations in which the benefits outweigh the risks?

Jesus repeatedly taught that powerless children are very important in God’s eyes. But how do we care well for these little ones he values so dearly?

He offers us the wisdom and insights to see through the complexities. We have his indwelling Spirit who gives us wisdom. We have local partners with whom to work. And yet it’s still very complicated.

A conclusion of sorts

I am glad that individuals like Jena are provided for in the name of Jesus. I am delighted to play a small role in enabling one particular child high up in the mountains to receive an education.

Yet I remain concerned as I hear about people who grow up in children’s homes and end up confused and unsure of who they are or what they believe. And of course, stories abound of young people who are unwittingly placed into slavery or positions of abuse or worse, though I have not met anybody during this trip who has suffered like that. 

I have more questions about the ethics of aid and development than ever before as a result of this trip. One thing I have observed, though, is this: When run well, a children’s home can change a child’s life trajectory. When run badly, of course, it can be awful. Checks and balances, accountability and very great wisdom is needed.

As Australian Christians, let’s support people seeking to show Jesus’ love and respect to ‘the least of these’. Let’s continue to provide finances so that those who have wrestled with these questions can get on with the job at hand. And let’s offer prayer for them too. May God give hem wisdom, day by day, and situation by situation. (And may the school girl whose education I support, high up there in the mountains, do well in life.)

Today, I studied two lessons. One involved a Tibetan script that I have seen but not learnt. It is the equivalent of cursive script in English. (I have previously learnt the printed version, the equivalent of ‘Romans New Times’ in Tibetan.) The second lesson was the promise that “… those who fear the LORD lack no good thing” (Psalm 34:9). 

The two lessons are intertwined and involve a brass cat. 

Fear God and God alone

Today I have spent time in Psalm 34. The psalmist writes about the importance of having a holy fear of God and therefore no fear of anything else. Living without fear is possible when we are we centred in God.  I have confessed (again) my fear of not being perfect (and therefore reluctant to get into different projects, including this one). 

I am writing from the amazing land of Nepal. I had hoped to find a Tibetan teacher here who could help me practise what I have learnt in my home country. But where does one start? I went to a Tibetan settlement near where I’m staying. People were friendly. I had read that there would be advertisements for language exchange or lessons … but there weren’t. 

Buff Fried Rice and Knick-Knacks

Lunch was at a lovely little cafe. The staff were friendly and helpful. I thoroughly enjoyed my plate of buff fried rice (with plenty of diced buffalo, hence the ‘buff’) and a lime soda. It might not have been quite locally appropriate but it was pretty close and gluten-free (they kindly avoided sauces for me). Then I meandered my way through the handcraft stalls, each manned by an older woman whose face was full of character and who pitched her wares at tourists like me. 

“Are you Australian? Come in – my things are cheap and cheerful,” called one lady. She later told me that ‘cheap and cheerful’ is a phrase she reserves for Australians. Another dear lady, Aunty Sonam, my mother’s age, has been living here in the mountains of Nepal since 1959. She has a daughter in Melbourne, and grasped my hand in delight upon learning that I live there too. She forced a couple of key rings on me and promised to put her daughter in touch. (We’ll see if anything comes of that – it would be great if it did.) 

A Brass Cat

It was the lady with the brass cat who turned out to be the answer to my prayers. I showed her a picture of the cat who lives with me (and who would be cross that her photo hasn’t made it into this blog post if she realised). I said, in halting Tibetan, ‘This is my cat.’ Half an hour later, her daughter had agreed to teach me. Her daughter, it turned out, runs the cafe in which I had enjoyed buff fried rice. We had already met.

The first lesson was today. I had planned lots of practice using common phrases for daily life but my teacher had other ideas. She is just like my teacher at home, overflowing with of opinions, insisting that I need to learn the script first. Only it is the handwritten cursive script that she wants me to learn and different to what I already know, even though the spoken language is the same. Sigh. She is my teacher, and therefore to be respected even though I hold a master’s degree in education and had a perfectly adequate lesson prepared. Besides, I also want to learn about her culture. And that includes her opinions about how I should learn. So I studied the cursive script. 

Vocabulary 

It was a good lesson, nonetheless, and along the way,  I learnt vocabulary for ‘salt’, ‘sugar’, ‘tea’, ‘buffalo’, ‘fish’, ‘a yak with a white spot on its forehead’ and more. Culture and language are inseparable. As an English teacher, I would have started with phrases like ‘My name is…’, ‘How are you?’ and numbers. At the end of the lesson, we exchanged WhatsApp details and, in the process, she saw the photo of the brass cat that I had sent to a friend through that platform earlier today. 

The brass cat photo led to my final sentence for today’s lesson: “This thing, I bought from your mother’s shop.”  She called her brother in and told him that I had something to say. He listened intently before laughing … laughing in delight at his sister’s prowess as a teacher rather than my language skill, I choose to believe. 

Lessons Learnt

So what did I learn today? First, I learnt … and am still learning … a new-to-me Tibetan script. And second, I learnt afresh that I need not and cannot do God’s work for him … I can just be myself. Being myself means fearing God and living accordingly.  It does not mean being perfect as God is perfect. As I bumble along, enjoying some fabulous experiences, he provides for me and even uses me. Today’s lesson was just the beginning of what I hope will be a lovely relationship, both online and face-to-face 

Although frustrating times may be ahead (and Psalm 34 does not promise a trouble-free life), right now I am enjoying experiencing the promise of Psalm 34:9:  “Fear the Lord, you his holy people, for those who fear him lack nothing.” (Psalm 34:9)