Bought the T-shirt

A woman’s work, they say, is never done.  And although much of what was traditionally regarded as ‘women’s work’ is today done, either voluntarily or of necessity, by men, the fact remains that ironing – or at least the need for it – takes no account of holidays.  As I was ironing the other day, I realised that the particular T-shirt being processed was at least twenty years old!  I could tell by the logo on the front where it had come from, and I knew that it was in 1989 that I had been there on my holidays.  Now, of course, it’s been relegated to the ‘housework and gardening’ drawer, and in the not-too-distant future it will find itself dissected for polishing the van.

This line of thought led me to the phases through which T-shirts pass over the years, and on to a similar possible transition of the metaphorical T-shirts of life itself.  I bought two new T-shirts last year, each of which commemorates a visit to somewhere special: places to which I wouldn’t expect to return for several years, if at all.  I wore these soon after I got back home, to initiate or illuminate conversations in which I told my friends where I’d been.  Next time the same friends see these T-shirts, they won’t ask about them, either because they already know the story, or because the shirts themselves will no longer have that ‘brand-new’ appearance.  They will have become absorbed into my range of  'normal' clothing.  Eventually, when they become faded or frayed, they will disappear from view, relegated to the rank of underwear or ‘dirty jobs only.’

In the modern idiom, we also think of T-shirts in another context.  We sometimes use the expression, ‘been there; bought the T-shirt’.  It’s a way to express sympathy with a friend’s bad experiences.  It’s a metaphor for empathising the sequence that usually follows a particular event, such as an illness or operation, a divorce or bereavement.  We want our friend to know that we have suffered similarly, and therefore understand what he or she is going through. 

And isn’t that exactly the underlying purpose of Jesus' ministry, indeed, of His whole life on earth, beginning with His coming at Christmas?

As St Paul reveals in his letter to the Philippians (Phil. 2:6-8), “[Jesus] made himself nothing ... took the very nature of a servant ... and was made in human likeness.”  He did this so that he could draw alongside us in our humanity.  There is nothing we can do in our lives to which Jesus cannot truly say, ‘been there; bought the T-shirt.’  He even did the one thing we don’t have to do – He paid the price for our sins through His death on the Cross.  Even if you haven’t done so before, draw near to Him. Wherever you are in life, whatever you’re going through, Jesus understands.  He knows just what each of us is going through - He’s ‘bought all the T-shirts!’

Not the End of Life

I don’t go looking for the unusual, but occasionally something out of the ordinary prompts deeper thought.  A while ago, I spotted a newspaper advert for a swimsuit specially designed for ladies who have undergone mastectomy.  While I have no reason to remember the product itself, I do know that it set me thinking about the deep and potentially devastating impact this operation has on the life of the patient.  For a man, I realised, it’s quite impossible to imagine fully the emotional consequences that must continue long after the physical recovery.  I decided there might be many feelings – unjustified, but quite real, nevertheless – of imperfection and inadequacy, and that for some women this trauma could herald the end of their active life.

But the hope offered by this swimsuit is that, in one way at least, mastectomy need not be the end.  So this scenario brings an important lesson for us all.  As we grow in faith, each of us learns to recognise the sin that permeates every aspect of life, and it would be all too easy for us to come to the conclusion that there’s no hope of our ever being worthy of anything.  We wonder what life itself is all about, and the pit of depression looms ever nearer.  I’m sorry to bring up this gloomy prospect when many are reflecting upon the cost of last Christmas, and wondering in these difficult times whether all the expense was worthwhile – but these things all have to be faced sooner or later.

As usual, however, if we turn to our Bible we can find a ray of relieving sunshine.  So wait!  Let’s put a hold on finding that bridge to jump off in our misery!  What is it that St. Paul says about death?  “Death has been swallowed up in victory.” (I Cor. 15:54).  Paul is writing here about physical death, but I see no reason why we shouldn’t claim this truth in a spiritual sense, too.  After all, Paul goes on to say (vv. 56-57), “The sting of death is sin ... but ... [God] gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Because in His death and resurrection Jesus paid the price for the sins of us all, they have no more power over us; they can undermine neither our strength nor our ability to work for Him.  As Paul wrote to the Philippians, “I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” (Phil. 4:15).  So just as any lady buying that swimsuit would have realised, life hasn’t come to its end – it’s just different.  It is permanently changed, and will never be the same again, but it still goes on ... and that can be a very challenging, but encouraging, thought at the start of a new year!

Funding the Habit

I’m not sure I should have said it, but on the spur of the moment it seemed funny.  I wanted to emphasise my need to earn extra money, but I realised that my words could have given a totally false impression of me, and of my lifestyle.  So when I told the man behind the desk that I needed to fund my habit, I quickly followed up by adding, “I have this habit of eating!”  It was a lame joke and, thankfully, was soon forgotten.

The expression ‘funding a habit’ is almost exclusively related to drug-related crime, but, as we approach this year’s early start to Lent, I want to examine these two key words a bit more deeply.  Many a lottery winner (but not all, I acknowledge) will confirm that the sudden possession of unexpected funds can make life completely unmanageable.  Every dimension of life suddenly becomes unfamiliar: the daily economies that one previously exercised almost unconsciously are now unnecessary, and one almost feels obliged to look around for things on which to spend money.

The Bible has little to say about winning the lottery, but it does contain a surprising amount about money.  St Paul cautions, for example, that, “the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Tim. 6:10), which certainly concurs with the action of the drug-addicted thief.  We know that God doesn’t want us to go without good things: “a good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap.” (Luke 6:38), but these words come in the midst of Jesus’ teaching about generosity; look at the rest of the verse to see what conditions are associated with this blessing. 

So we learn that wealth carries with it responsibility.  But wealth is not always a great sum.  On another occasion, Jesus watched an old woman putting her two coins into the Temple treasury, and observed that, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others.  All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.” (Luke 21:2).  St Paul has some advice about our priorities with money, which many Christians adopt in their own lives.  He writes, “On the first day of every week, each one of you should set aside a sum of money in keeping with his income” (1 Cor. 16:2).  Paul was specifically addressing the needs of fellow believers in Jerusalem, but isn’t this the policy we should apply to our support for church and missions generally?

As our thoughts pass from the funds themselves to the way we use them, let’s just think of habits.  It’s very easy to drift through life without a firm plan, whether in respect of career, social development or finance.  However, people who have developed particular habits, like reading the Bible and praying daily, or apportioning a ‘God-slice’ of income as a first priority, generally find life much easier ... and they recognise that this is due in no small part to letting God influence all the decisions they make.

So, is it time to take up some new, God-focused or Bible-based habit for Lent ... and beyond?

Interesting

I love quizzes.  Imagine, therefore, my delight at finding that I could download a podcast of the ones that appear weekly on Radio 4.  If I’ve heard the live broadcast, I listen again and try to remember the answers that I got wrong the first time round.  If I haven’t, then I listen to the podcast twice, some days apart.

This new application has led me to a sort of analysis, not unlike that famous Donald Rumsfeld quote about known unknowns.  I find myself questioning how many correct answers I really know, how many I guess and get right, how many I only get right now because I heard the answer the first time around, and how many I still get wrong because I can’t remember the right answer that I heard before. 

The Bible has many references to questions; those in Luke’s Gospel provide a good selection.  Jesus is found by his parents asking questions in the temple (2:46).  After He had accused the Pharisees, as experts in religious law, of taking away the key to knowledge, they questioned Jesus in order to find a way to trap him (11:52-54).  Later (20:1-8), we find a head-on exchange of questions that reveals just how ill-founded is the Pharisees’ opposition to Jesus.  The disciples question one another about who might betray Him (22:23), and later Herod questioned Him to learn why it was that the crowd were shouting for his death (23:9).

In each of these examples, we find that questions are a means of learning – mostly learning about Jesus.   I’m learning, too, by listening to those quiz questions and absorbing some of the correct answers.  I notice, though, that what I learn depends upon my interest in the subject in the first place.  If the question is about modern music, or the celebrity culture, for example, I’m just as likely to offer the same wrong answer – or no answer at all - the second time around. 

This month sees the start of Lent, when traditionally, we try to draw closer to God, in our thinking and our habits.  Perhaps it’s a good time to suggest a prayer that the Holy Spirit might sharpen our interest in the things of God.