Saturday 27 April 2013

Shoving Annie




From time to time as I travel I enjoy a refreshing alternative to the good old BBC on the radio; I turn to my store of podcasts, and listen to programs from the Irish national radio service, RTÉ.  An amusing snippet that has lingered in my memory from a few years ago came from a programme broadcast on the day of a key international soccer  match.  The presenter had expressed a hope that all her listeners would be supporting the home team that afternoon, and asked by way of interest whether they would join in the singing of the national anthem, “or will you be shoving Annie?”

As a proud Irish-speaker herself, she then explained this expression.  It referred to those Irishmen in the crowd who either didn’t speak Irish, or didn’t know the words of the national anthem, or both.  Their habit, she alleged, was to mumble along with the tune until the rousing final line, when they would raise their voices (their actual words being disguised by the overall volume of the singing) and bellow, “Shoving Annie around the green!”  This is a convenient piece of meaningless English doggerel that sounds roughly like the final words of the original, “Seo libh canaig amhrán na bhFiann.”  Its use was an attempt, she said, to appear as one with the whole body of supporters, despite their personal linguistic shortcomings. 

So, the term ‘shoving Annie’ would refer to mimics, imitators, people trying to be something they are not.  Does this strike a chord with you?  Do you prickle with embarrassment as you recall some way in which you try to cover up your inadequacies, hoping that others won’t notice as you seek benefits to which you aren’t entitled?  The Bible condemns all falsehood, and this is no exception.  We can see from his letters that Paul was on the case.  “If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself,” he told his readers in Galatia (Gal. 6:3.)  In another letter the apostle cautioned, “Be careful not to allow anyone to captivate you through an empty, deceitful philosophy that is according to human traditions and the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ. (Col. 2:8.)”

Many of the frailties of the church’s rank and file are exposed in the ‘Letters to the Churches’ that St John shares in his Revelation.  It was those in Thyatira who were told, “I know your deeds: your love, faith, service, and steadfast endurance.  In fact, your more recent deeds are greater than your earlier ones.”  Yes, they were very active, but beneath the surface they were far from pure: “I am the one who searches minds and hearts. I will repay each one of you what your deeds deserve.” (Rev. 2:19, 23b.)
The question that faces each of us is this: how open are we to our Lord’s scrutiny?  To what extent are we trying to be something we’re not?  Or put another way, are you a true believer (supporter), or simply shoving Annie?

Thursday 11 April 2013

What it Says on the Tin


Do you have an embarrassing incident that lingers down the years - something that makes you cringe every time you recall it, and yet you still think of it from time to time?  Here's one of mine.
 
One day my daughter, paying a visit, decided she was hungry and asked if I minded if she made a sandwich.  A few moments later, a sharp squeal sent me dashing into the kitchen.  She had picked up a margarine carton from the fridge and was surprised and not a little embarrassed when the apricots and syrup that it contained spilled onto the kitchen floor.  She told me off soundly about not putting labels on containers when I re-use them for a different purpose.

I realised recently how little parents learn from their children!  I have three matching canisters in my present kitchen, labelled ‘tea’, ‘coffee’ and ‘sugar’.  I always find it difficult to remember whether it is ‘tea’ or ‘coffee’ that contains the rice!

These are simple domestic arrangements, perhaps but, if nothing else, they illustrate the way that one person’s idiosyncratic habits, while normal to him, are not always what someone else might expect.  But had you ever considered that our very lives are a bit like that?  What is an acceptable way of life for us – whether as individuals or as a family – might not be so for other people.  This general consideration applies to wide ranges of behaviour: from domestic violence to offering food to guests and ladies first; from saying grace before meals to whether or not we cover our bodies in the presence of family members.

Far more importantly, these personal habits might not be acceptable to God.  In the Old Testament we learn that God has called each of us by our name – we are His (Isaiah 43:1).  He has given us that label which says ‘Mine’.  We belong to Him, and He cares for us and protects us.  We are made in the image of God, and St. Paul tells us more about this in I Corinthians 6:19-20.  The apostle reminds us of the price that was paid for us, the sacrifice that won for us eternal life.  Because of this, we have a responsibility to act properly, to use our lives wisely, and to treat our bodies in a manner fitting for a holy temple.

Some people wear a cross all the time.  For some it is merely a piece of jewellery and, if it causes trouble with our employers, it can be removed with no deep consideration.  For others, however, it signifies their deep faith and presents a constant challenge to live up to its meaning.  They find it a constant reminder of the target, of how life should be lived.  For these people, in a very practical way, the cross is a kind of label.  Whether visibly expressed or not, it’s a label that applies to all who have chosen to follow Him. 

‘Temple of the Holy Spirit’ - that’s what the label says.  How closely does your life ‘do what it says on the tin’?