Tuesday 15 October 2019

Keep it to Yourself

I've stopped being amazed by the extent to which the media can - and does - pry into the personal and private lives of public figures.  Whether it's pop stars, politicians or members of the royal family ... or simply the proverbial 'man (or woman) in the street', it seems that no one is immune from the revelation of their most intimate secrets.  I suppose in certain instances making known these details - provided they're true - is in the public interest if it prevents someone unsuitable from having particular responsibilities.  However, I'm convinced that, in the majority of cases, much more is revealed than is justified, purely for commercial gain and the titillation of consumers.

Jesus himself was vulnerable to public awareness.  Often after performing a miraculous healing, He exhorted the one healed not to tell anyone about it (e.g. Matt. 9:30, 12:16; Luke 5:14, 8:56) ... not always successfully (Matt. 9:31, Luke 5:15)!  Many have wondered why He did this; some theologians and commentators suggest that the time wasn't right, or the place, and that it didn't fit in with Jesus' plan for His ministry.  I wonder whether it might be linked to His experiences in the wilderness, where He was tempted by the Devil (Matt. 4:1-11; Luke 4:1-13).  Those temptations involved his bodily needs, the possession of ultimate power and His personal renown.  I think He tried to steer away from fame as a healer just as he refused to jump from the Temple roof.  It wasn't His aim simply to become a supernatural celebrity.

Against the background of these thoughts, I watched a woman on the bus either taking something from, or putting something into her handbag.  It was the bag itself that fascinated me.  It was long and black, with a zip at each end.  But these zips didn't meet in the middle; here there was a simple stud holding the sides together.  The bag was thus divided into three sections, possibly separated within; at the ends the contents were comparatively secure while at the centre would be those items more frequently required.

I thought how clever this design was, for not all things are of equal importance and some possessions demand greater protection than others.  When St Paul wrote about the body, he noted that "the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty." (1 Cor. 12:23).  Paul was writing about a corporate body, the 'body of Christ' - in other words the church - but he wouldn't have compared the principles of which he was trying to convince his readers to aspects of a physical body if the comparison weren't sound teaching.

It does seem that some sections of today's society are incapable of distinguishing what bits of life ought to be in which part of that excellently-designed handbag: what can be made public and what should remain 'behind closed doors'.  Perhaps the answer is to reflect on our motives and consider the example of our Lord.  If the aim of what we are about to reveal on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram is simply to enhance our own celebrity, then maybe we should think again.

Tuesday 1 October 2019

Getting it into Perspective

Someone once said there are two certainties in life: death and taxes.  I suggest there's a third ... you never know what's round the corner.  Next week I shall be travelling to Yorkshire for the funeral of a dear friend, who died last weekend at the age of 95.  It's some years since I last saw her but, as with a few others, there's a sort of background to life of which they're always a part.  Realising that this is no longer the case has brought into renewed focus the part she played in my life.  It's humbling to learn that she had left specific instructions with her son that I was to be told personally of her death.  I'm not expecting a bequest ... that comment was ample reward for over 30 years of affection.

Writing at the beginning of what could be this country's last month in the European Union, I have to make some comment about what might be around another corner.  Over the last three or four years, that which quickly became known as Brexit has brought many things into sharper focus.  At first it was simply the decision to leave or to remain but as the years have dragged on, with the parliamentary impasse about the terms of our leaving and fears about the probable and possible effects of the various alternatives, feelings and emotions have gradually risen to fever pitch.

A friend related last week a conversation he'd had with a man he had always understood to be a Christian.  The man had asked him what he thought about our present government.  My friend gave a fairly non-committal answer but was somewhat taken aback by the man's reaction.  He told him how useless he thought the present administration was ... and here my friend spoke of the violence and hatred in the man's eyes as he had added, vehemently, "We have to get out! We must get out!"

Stories of violence and hatred abound.  Last week there were reports - not for the first time - of death threats against MPs; earlier in the year one female MP felt it was too dangerous to travel home to her constituency for the weekend.  Where has all this come from?  It's no exaggeration of the significance of Brexit to say that it has all stemmed from this basic issue of to leave the EU or to remain.  In the time that the discussion and debate has gone on, feelings on both sides have had the chance to cut deep channels in our society.  What was once felt to be a preference is now an absolute necessity ... to the extent, it seems, that almost any measure can be justified to achieve the desired end.

It's now got to the point, I believe, that almost irrespective of their original preference, a large slice of the population just want it out of the way, so that normal life can resume.  It's sad to reflect that not until all else has been tried do we turn to prayer.  At least, I'm ashamed to admit, that's been the case with me.  Nothing else seems able to break the log-jam and bring the whole sorry business to an end.   Only, as in the case of the wars of the last century, it won't afterwards be the same 'normal life' that we were used to before it all kicked off. 

Many are confident, of course, that what we want is the right outcome, and that therefore God's influence will help to bring it about.  No one now alive will remember the appearance of posters during the First World War exaggerating every rumour of Germany's inhumane treatment of 'Poor little Belgium', and explaining how God was on the side of the Allies in the fight against the Hun.  I have no doubt that similar posters appeared in Germany and Austria claiming 'Gott ist für uns!'

I don't believe that God was on either side then, and I don't believe he's on either side of this situation.  I'm not even sure that God sees sides the same way we do.  We are all His children; it's just that the family has had one almighty squabble that isn't going to be resolved quickly.  While it goes on, God, like any human parent, has to listen to both parties and tries to get them both to see sense.  Whatever the outcome, whether we leave, with a deal or without, or whether we contrive to remain in the Union, there will be many millions in the country who will feel let down, betrayed, violated ... there are so many words to express those desperate emotions.

So, how do we pray?  Like many other believers, I've been praying for the success of what I believe to be the right outcome.  But I have to remember an important addendum, or codicil, to my prayer.  I have to adopt a modicum of humility and admit that, firm as I am in my opinion, I might have got it wrong; more important than 'my side winning' is that the final outcome is what God wants.

Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God" (Matt. 5:9).  He didn't say "Blessed are those who are right".  As I read it, that word 'peacemakers' means those who can accept an outcome that goes the way they don't want, and are not willing to take retributive action - of whatever kind - against those who got their way.  And look at the reward that comes to those who are able to offer that hand of friendship!  It'll be a bitter pill to swallow, but worth it.  And what's the alternative?  Hatred is a hungry bedfellow and its chief victim is its host.