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?

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’?

Joyful Response

Especially after the harsh winter from which we are slowly recovering, it’s easy to think during Lent of the natural world.  The name Lent comes simply from the Old English ‘lenten’, referring to the days getting longer as winter moves into spring.  My abiding memories of Easters past are of daffodils and the occasional walk in the countryside, where the woods and fields show signs of nature’s colour returning.

Isaiah writes of ​​​​​​​the rain and snow coming down from heaven.  ​​​​​​‘[They] do not return,’ he says, ‘but instead water the earth and make it produce and yield crops, and provide seed for the planter and food for those who must eat.’ (Isaiah 55:10 – Net Bible.)  Check out the rest of that chapter, and you’ll see that its aim is not a lesson in physical and economic geography.  It tells instead of God’s provision, and the great rewards that will come to those who abandon their own (wicked) lifestyle and (sinful) plans, and return to Him (v. 7.)  Nature itself will lead the responding celebrations of joy (vv.12-13.)

Another recollection of a spring walk in the countryside is the early lambs gambolling in the meadows.  Here, too, Isaiah provides a divine perspective and, if your musical background is anything like mine, you have to pinch yourself to remember that it wasn’t Isaiah copying Handel but vice versa, as we read that ‘all we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way.’  There’s no getting away from the truth of Easter, for the verse continues, ‘and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.’ (Isaiah 53:6 – KJV.)

So, as we gradually appreciate the magnitude of this promise, and the sacrifice it involves, how are we to respond?  My suggestion is this.  Just as in the Old Testament the Israelites were encouraged to pay an eye for an eye, etc. (Exodus 21:24-5,) so we should trade sacrifice for sacrifice.  This idea isn’t an original one.  Look at Romans 12:1 and you’ll see what I mean.  Paul encourages us to offer our bodies ‘as a sacrifice, alive, holy and pleasing to God, which is your reasonable service.’  A preacher I heard recently explained that the Greek word that appears here as ‘reasonable’ can also mean ‘logical’; i.e. it is logical that we should respond in this way to the sacrifice that Jesus made on the Cross to win forgiveness for us from the consequences of our sins.

Having set the thought before you, dear reader, I will now leave it to mature.  Read on in this chapter of Romans, and you will find one of Paul’s many lists of the gifts and attributes of the Christian.  He also offers practical ways in which they may be employed.  Each idea he presents is a possible expression of the Joy which is ours at Easter.

Thankful Response

Life had started to get hard for Joan.  Now in her mid-seventies, she found more and more that she couldn’t do for herself, and it was sometimes quite painful even to walk to the corner shop.  She was very glad to have almost daily visits from Pina.  Pina had arrived in the town several years ago from the Balkans.  Her husband had been killed in the fighting there, and she had sought safety with her two young children.

Pina enjoyed calling on Joan, and would dust and hoover, collect shopping for her, make tea and chat, and she learned much about her adopted country in the process.  Her presence in the house lightened the lonely burden of Joan’s life beyond measure.  Then one day Joan discovered that, in order to make time for these visits, Pina had stopped going to a special class where she had been learning business English and computer skills so that, when the children were old enough, she could get herself a job.

Joan didn’t know how to deal with this news.  She couldn’t understand why Pina should make that sacrifice just to spend time with her.  After all, they had little in common except widowhood, and the circumstances of that condition were totally different for each of them.  Pina occasionally noticed a little awkwardness in Joan’s behaviour that she couldn’t account for.  Joan was far more worried about the situation than this little sign revealed.  Then one day she remembered some clothes that were stored away having been outgrown by her grandchildren.  She passed them to Pina for her youngest.  Although she couldn’t get around very well, Joan still enjoyed cooking, and made all her own cakes.  It was about then that, inspired by Pina’s gratitude for the clothes, she began to make larger batches of buns and biscuits, packing up more than half of them into bags which she passed on to her young friend when she called.

This sort of exchange probably happens here and there across most towns.  Is it just a story of two lonely women, or can we learn something more from it?  Pina gave up something which was important to her in order to provide a lifeline to someone to whom she owed nothing.  From the Manger to the Cross, God did the same for us.  He gave His only-begotten Son to save us from the consequences of our sins.  For her part Joan thought it out and, although she couldn’t replace those lost lessons, by practical gifts she found a way to respond to Pina’s generosity.  We can never hope to deserve God’s love or to repay the sacrifice of the Cross, but we are prompted to respond to these blessings.  We do so by giving our time and skills in service to God through the Church or other charities.  Many people also give a proportion of their income as well - based on the Biblical practice of tithing (see Deuteronomy 14:22).  The Church has a ‘shorthand’ name for this response to God by giving our time, talents and treasure: Stewardship.

When did you last review your response to what God has given you?

Freedom

Hooray!  The snow and ice have gone.  No more time wasted scraping windscreens, clearing paths and coping with winter; we can look forward to spring.  During the quiet period that always follows Christmas in the courier industry, I’ve been watching a number of documentaries about World War II, and my mind has drifted towards the return of demobbed servicemen to their families.  Meanwhile the news programmes have told of the Algerian hostage crisis, the war in Mali and the general problems posed by militant Islamists.

These three thoughts may seem unconnected, but ... we are free now from the extra disciplines forced on us by winter; the returning servicemen were free from the military disciplines needed to defeat the enemy; and, after overturning the Taliban regime, the countries making up the coalition in Afghanistan were similarly free either to bring their forces home or to build on that freedom (in the words of the ISAF Mission statement, “in order to provide a secure environment for sustainable stability that is observable to the population.”)

In each case, this freedom is not only freedom from something; it is also freedom to return to normality, which is sometimes easier said than done.  After six years of war, for example, the necessary re-adjustment to married life was sometimes more than man and wife could stand; after a few months of trying, many formerly happy marriages foundered and became a late casualty of the war. 

Let’s relate these examples to our thoughts in Lent.  The purpose of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross was to free mankind from the consequences of our sinfulness.  That freedom is available to everyone, and all we have to do is repent of our sins and accept God’s forgiveness, because the penalty has already been paid by Jesus.  But the same question arises here about the resulting freedom.  Does it just offer a return to what went before?  Surely, Jesus’ wonderful gift has to be more than simply ‘paying off the bill we’ve incurred up to now.’  How far-reaching is the freedom it brings? 

We need to take heed of the warning to be found in the Gospel at Luke 11:24-26.  In its simplest application, we might relate that forgiveness to a particular aspect of our behaviour and allow the Holy Spirit to eliminate that habit from our lives.  This probably creates more time for us: how do we use that time – to do good, or to acquire other bad habits? 

You might like to think about this passage as part of your own spiritual spring-clean this Lent.

Do You Need a Bath?

Some years ago there was a TV advert – you may recall it – that posed the question, “would you tell your best friend?”  I’m not for one moment suggesting that there are unpleasant odours in our churches, nor am I attempting to promote additional personal hygiene amongst our worshippers, but had you ever considered the many functions of the bathroom?

Naturally, it is a place for cleansing.  Little can be more refreshing than a morning shower, or so relaxing as a foaming bath after a hard day in the garden.  But is there another, less obvious, use for the bathroom?  How many homes these days - at least those below the status of ‘mansion’ - can boast their own private chapel?

Listen, if you will, to the excuses put forward why people find it difficult for what we euphemistically call a ‘quiet time’: a daily opportunity for Bible reading and prayer, a time to draw close to God on a regular basis.  Maybe you use them yourself: “I can’t find the time.”  “My life is so irregular, shifts and so on.”  “There is always someone else around.”  And to those who say these things, each one is true, and each one is apparently insurmountable.  For those who would dearly love to introduce this important habit into their lives, it is an increasing source of frustration, too.

Of course, we’d all like to be able to find time for Bible reading and prayer, and these are very important.  But there is another dimension to our spiritual life, one that even the most devout is liable to overlook: listening to God.  Which of us would face the day without at least a quick splash?  In all but the most overcrowded homes, our time in the bathroom is - and I use the word deliberately - sacrosanct.  We are fairly confident of being alone and, hopefully, unlikely to be disturbed.  So, how about next time you step into the bath or shower (we shouldn’t be embarrassed about standing naked before the Almighty - that’s how he made us, after all!) saying, in full and sincere expectation of an answer, “Hi, God, what have you got to say to me today?”

I love the story of the little girl who, in all innocence, told her teacher that she had found out where God lives.  “And where’s that, dear?” asked the teacher, expecting some deep theological wisdom far beyond the infant’s tender years.  “He lives in our bathroom,” came the reply.  “My daddy was standing outside the bathroom door this morning, shouting ‘God!  Are you still in there?’”

 

So, in all seriousness, do you need a bath?

 

Down Memory Lane

From time to time in my work, I go somewhere completely new, only to arrive at my destination and recognise the building or the location of the loading yard.  I don’t remember the journey, but I now realise that I have been there before, albeit several years ago.  Many more are regular jobs where, if told just the name of our customer and the destination town, I know exactly where I’ll be going, even down to the face or name of the person I’ll see when I get there.

Repetition doesn’t actually add to knowledge but it does embed it firmly in the memory.  This is true of relationships, too.  If you meet someone daily or weekly, you can pick up where you left off; you’re both part of the same ongoing story.  You know what is happening in your friend’s life, and they in yours.  By contrast, consider the experience of a friend who told me a few weeks ago of his visit to a primary school reunion.  He met people there whom he’d not seen for over fifty years.  ‘After a few minutes, learning what trade or profession each other has followed and how many grand-children we have,’ he told me, ‘there’s nothing more to be said, and you move on to the next former fellow-pupil.’

In his ministry, St Paul naturally developed close ties with the churches he established.  But these ties had to be nourished by communication.  When he wasn’t still with a community, he wanted to know how they were getting on; if he heard nothing for a while, he sent one of his colleagues to find out and report back (I Thessalonians 2:17-3:10.)

We can be just as close or distant with our Maker, too.  There is no doubt about His love for each one of us: “I have called you by your name, you are mine” (Isaiah 43:1), and His concern for the minutiae of our existence “Even the very hairs of your head are numbered.” (Matt. 10:30.)  The uncertainty comes in the fickleness of our regard for Him.  Our attentions are often a matter of convenience, but I’d like to suggest two key disciplines that can enrich and boost our devotion.  One of these is a regular pattern of prayer and worship which, once established, can be adapted and strengthened at any time!

The other is to use a prayer remembered from childhood.  One I recall is a bedtime prayer: Lord, keep us safe this night / secure from all our fears / May angels guard us while we sleep / till morning light appears.  Because it’s so deep-rooted, once a key word is said, the remainder flows effortlessly from memory.  So, thinking caps on ... what’s hidden away in the depths of your memory?

Once pronounced, these unforgotten prayers can become living reminders of God’s presence and His love.