A Cause for Tragedy and Hope. (Fiction)

Ninety year old David Bull coughed and spluttered slightly as he reclined rather cheerfully in his favourite armchair, after his son Graham had dropped him and his 87 year old wife back home from a short trip out. As he cleared his throat and relaxed, his wife sauntered to the kitchen to prepare for him a cup of tea. None of this modern tea-bag rubbish, but the traditional brew in a china teapot, from which a strainer over the mouth of the cup will keep the beverage relatively free from a sediment of spent tea leaves.

The weather outside was awful - cool for late June, dull, and wet. Not that it mattered to the elderly gentleman. For where it was cold and inhospitable outside, inside his heart was warm, glowing with happiness - and pride. As he reclined, he began to let his memories slip back to that dreadful day as a seven year old boy, frightened and with a deep sense of uncertainty. For that was the day he felt that his parents were abandoning him to the fate of the boarding prep school, the start of the long, eleven-year separation from home for a military-style curriculum of full-time education.

Every morning he and all the other boys were escorted to the school chapel for the worship service, where the Christian religion was presented to them in a cold, formal manner. If that was not enough, mandatory grace was said before meals, with which the food was practically inedible, purposely prepared that way to set them upon the road for military service and leadership, and for the hardships that would come their way throughout adult life. David had watched two or three other boys at first refusing to eat, but of no avail. For the strict Matron made sure they ate, force-feeding them amidst weeping and tears. David knew better than to suffer such humiliation. So he ate without relish three times a day, an ordeal to be endured, but never without the thanksgiving to God delivered before the cutlery were lifted from the table.

Day by day, the youngster dreaded the cane, the instrument for corporal punishment, which back in those days was administered by any member of staff, as well as at the headmaster's office. And such was administered rather liberally, for even the smallest offence. When David discovered that there was a news agency not far from the school gates, during one break he slipped out, and with the paltry sum of pocket money, bought himself a Mars bar, a wonderful moment of taste and enjoyment after an endless sequence of horrid dross passing over his tongue. He didn't get away with it. Midway into his next lesson, the headmaster summoned him into his office, and there received five strokes of the cane across the palm of his left hand, before returning to the classroom with tears running down his face.

Those were the worst years of his young life. How he longed for parental love. The comforting arms of his mother. A mother he can run to and shed tears without a shred of shame and embarrassment. The encouraging father-son relationship. Missed opportunities for father and son to spend time together, for example, on a fishing trip, or even just a walk in the park. And an occasional treat such as a bar of chocolate. But no. Father was too involved with his military-allied job. Mother devoted herself to his younger sister. David began to see himself as a nuisance to his parents, always getting in their way. So he believed back in those days. Therefore their best solution was boarding school. At least that was him out of the way. It was years later did he realise their sacrifice through the cost of such education clearing out their bank accounts.

By the time he arrived at public school, his heart was already hardening against showing of emotion. Big boys don't cry - it's the sign of weakness, and therefore a potential target for relentless bullying. One afternoon, the droning of the history master caused his thoughts to drift. Suddenly, the master cracked his cane right across his own desk, making an ear-splitting sound loud enough to wake up the dead. David jolted upright. With his eyes piercing the student's, he ordered him to repeat the last ten minutes of the lecture. David was unable to. So the master brought him to the front of the classroom and in front of everyone present, administered six hard strokes of the cane across his buttocks. The pain was excruciating, but still made every effort to refrain himself from shedding the slightest tear. He had in the past watched other students receive the same punishment, then turned around to smile, and thanked the cane-wielding master as they returned to their desks. David wasn't quite able to reach that point of emotional stoicism. Instead, he wiped a stray tear which managed to escape his lower eyelid, with discretion, hoping that no one in the classroom had seen what he had just done.

Eton College, a famous public school.

It was at that stage in his lifetime that David saw Englishness and Christianity being synonymous with each other, no longer able to tell them apart. Daily morning assembly under Church of England liturgy and the keeping of religious laws were no different from the strict school rules from which the slightest breach would result in corporal punishment. Faith equalled stoicism to such a degree, that any show of emotion was a sign of weakness, and therefore seen as a betrayal of God's purpose, particularly for the King, Country, and Empire. Up to that point in his teenage years, David accepted the Christian philosophy as it stood, that God is a God of war and conquest, and that strict discipline and stoicism to military excellence met his approval. But on one Sunday, when David was at the school chapel with all the other boys, that something occurred which turned his heart against religion altogether. It was the lesson - the reading of Scripture aloud in public - which caused the teenager to shudder, for it was delivered with such an insincere tone of piety. For the Scripture read was 1 Corinthians 13, from the King James Version, followed by an explanation that the word Charity to mean love, and not merely a benevolent organisation. And who took the lesson? None other than the history master who had not long before had publicly smarted his buttocks.

For the rest of his life, David hated God, and everything else to do with all religion, not just the Christian faith. As a result, he became a committed atheist, which carried him along for the rest of his life. However, on the positive side, the school curriculum was good, and despite the total lack of love in a cold, unwelcome atmosphere, he learnt how to play rugby well during the Autumn and Spring terms, spruced up his swimming skills at the school pool, and excelled in cricket and athletics during the Summer term. The gym also featured a boxing ring, where during some P.E. lessons, he found himself sparring with a partner. But the crown of his long years of boarding school was to leave with five A Levels, which gave him a good standing for a University degree.

But after leaving school, he remembered having to join the Forces before attending University, and he chose the Army, the best way to release his pent-up frustrations, with a promise that he would attend the Officer's Training College based at Sandhurst instead of a civil University. But as this was still the War years, and after a few months of training (not a lot different from school discipline, except that the Sergeant had a louder voice) he was posted to Rhodesia, to keep a possible skirmish under control. It was there, as an indigenous uprising against colonialism was threatening the peace, that he was firing his machine gun pell-mell, without proper aim, through a village. As he was returning to base, he saw a young mother lying dead outside the front door of her home in a pool of blood, her dead newborn's mouth still attached to her breast. He realised that it was his bullets which passed through the baby and through its mother while breastfeeding. He felt an emotional blade piercing his heart, perhaps for the first time since it was deprived of all emotion during his school years. Instead, his upbringing compelled him to quicken his pace, and put such a sight behind him. King, Country, and Colony must come first. But the stab continued as a dull ache for the rest of his life.

Back to the present, as the elderly gentleman relaxed in his armchair and sipping his tea, his memory of that shooting was as clear as it had taken place just yesterday. His felt his pride and happiness drift away at the haunting of such a vision. and he began to feel troubled in spirit, the aching of his heart resurging.

The next day, he awoke to the news that the United Kingdom has voted to leave the European Union. That should have brought him joy, after the short trip to the polling station with his wife and son on the previous day. Instead he felt very apprehensive. Seeing that the day's weather was a contrast to that of the previous day - warm, dry with some sunshine - he decided to take a stroll through the high street. And so with his son Graham, who lived just a few blocks away, along with his wife, the three sauntered along the shopping precinct. They approached a coffee shop, and at one of the tables set outside the window, a Mediterranean-looking young mother sat, breastfeeding her infant, his tiny head adorned with a mop of black hair. The dull emotional ache he had always felt suddenly became acute, and he stood as transfixed outside the shop window, close to them. Presently, a group of very disturbing young men approached, three wearing tee shirts bearing racist slogans. The fourth was actually wearing a red tie over a white collared shirt.

The four youths began to sneer at the mother as she cradled the child to further protect him from view. At this, one of the lads yelled, "WE ARE OUT! GO BACK TO YOUR OWN COUNTRY!" Then the smartly dressed youth threw a missile at the young woman, hitting her on the shoulder before lodging between her chest and the baby. David thinks the missile might have been the core left from an eaten apple.

Graham shouted "OY!" as all four cowardly youths took flight and ran off. Then both mother and son went over to console the young woman, and made sure she wasn't too distressed by the incident. Meanwhile, David's lower lip trembled and a tear rolled down his face. He also knew that love for Queen and Country had nothing to do with the racial abuse. Rather it was out of envy, disguised as patriotism, at the reality that someone had succeeded in fathering the next generation, whoever that person might be. Most likely, to them, some foreign pen-pusher with the sign Vote Remain proudly displayed on his desk.

The family returned home, with the son deciding to remain for lunch. As the senior citizen was weeping over his shocking reminder after so many years, his wife asked him if he would like to hear some words of Scripture. David knew that his wife was converted to faith in Jesus Christ some 25 years into their marriage, along with their son. Quite a contrast to the strong atheism she had when they first met at a ballroom while he was on leave. But throughout their marriage he would not buy it. His public school upbringing on State religion had made sure of that. But the haunting memories of that shooting in Rhodesia has made him think again about the best things in life. And one thing that was missing in his younger years was love. It was almost a miracle that he was able to love his wife as he did. He remembers her as a ravishing beauty that night he first set eyes on her. And to him, age has not faded such beauty, even if the world outside their home may think so.

She took out her Bible, and together they read these verses from the Authorised version:

And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up: 
That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but hath eternal life.
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but hath eternal life.
For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.
John 3:14-17.

She then flipped forward through some pages and then read out this:

That if you confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.
For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.
For the scripture saith, whosoever believeth on him shall not be ashamed.
For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him.
For all whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.
Romans 10:9-13.

David lowered his head as in deep thought, while his wife and son felt it was right to retreat into the kitchen. While they were gone, he started to pray with sincerity, perhaps for the first time ever in his entire life, knowing within that Jesus Christ has came into the world to die, was buried, and rose physically from the dead three days later, to bring peace and hope. He then called on God to forgive him for everything he has done, and to ask God to dwell within him, then thanked him for his mercy and goodness. He then called his family back into the lounge.

"I have called on God for forgiveness and peace," he announced. "Already I feel at peace with God, with the world, and within myself."

His wife and his son both jumped for joy, then embraced each other in a tight hug. Then they both went over to him and tightly hugged, beaming with happiness and joy.

In the early hours of the morning, while his wife was soundly asleep, David woke up to find himself in the loving arms of the risen Christ in Heaven.

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Although the story is fiction, all the incidents, including the shooting, were taken from the past testimonies of others, including from one or two whom I talked, and therefore are all historic.

I've Put My Foot In It...Deliberately.

One of the sporting highlights of the week wasn't premier football of any kind, as it is the usual case here in the UK. Rather it was a few days of the Invictus Games held in Orlando. Founded by Prince Harry in 2014, it is a form of a mini-Paralympics, except that these games were reserved for athletes who have suffered both physically and mentally while serving in the Forces, particularly in the Middle East conflict during the past decade.

Unsurprisingly, photos of the fourth heir to the Throne were splashed across several pages of on-line newspapers, all of them showing a very cheerful, casually-dressed Royal who would not hold back his emotions towards the disabled competitors he was there to support.

Prince Harry with U.S. Elizabeth Marks

Straight away I could see that his feelings for the athletes were genuine, showing an affection towards them which he did not hold back in displaying. So by scrolling down to the comments forum, way down below from the headline, nearly all who contributed wrote positive statements, say how affectionate the Royal is, and not only won their hearts but even suggested launching a petition for a national referendum for him to be our next King. Such an example of his willingness to spend time with the athletes is illustrated above, having a chat with U.S. swimming champion Elizabeth Marks. However, I believe that the Prince would have looked better clean-shaven rather than sporting a beard, but then again, that is just my own opinion, and not necessarily that of the nation as a whole.  

And it's all about that. Appearance. So I wrote this at the message board underneath:

As a Royal, Prince Harry should have been wearing a tie. After all, he is the Queen's representative.

After this I went out for a while. A few hours later I returned to the forum to see whether I had attracted any response. I did. This was the Daily Mail forum with a green arrow/red arrow system. On my latest check, I have collected nine green arrows - and 171 red arrows, the meaning is, that amount of people had the courage to express their disagreement, representing a much wider readership. I was rather surprised. A generation ago, surely, I would have collected 171 green arrows of approval for making the exactly the same statement.

The next day, just before toddling off to the gym, I decided to turn the screw a little. At a different messaging board but still under the same headline, I typed in this:

As a Royal, Prince Harry should have worn a suit and tie, and be more distant, with an element of aloofness from the athletes. He is the Queen's representative, for heaven's sake.

Then off to the gym I went, and did not arrive home until the evening. Somewhat to my surprise, after much of the day, I have collected only four greens, and what actually surprised me, another 170 reds. With a statement like that, I thought the number of reds would have approached a thousand. But checking many of the other comments, all expressing praise for the Royal, the vast majority were blessed with greens. It looked to me that my two comments had collected the most reds in the entire forum, along with the replies, which totalled nine - three for the first statement and six for the second, all of them negative and rebuking, and confining me as a miserable sod from the sewers, so to speak. With the majority of comments published without collecting any typed response, the average run of replies is probably less than one per comment. With up to nine, my contribution looks to be something of a record breaker.

The whole exercise was of course, an experiment. Prince Harry's casual, down-to-earth attitude, and openness at the Invictus Games provided an excellent opportunity for me to test the waters of public opinion regarding stuffiness, formality, and the stiff upper lip, for which all members of the Firm are world renowned. My conclusion of the research was that by being himself, Prince Harry has won the heart of the nation, not far below that of Her Majesty, but above all the other Royals.

And what seemed to have delighted the nation was Harry's willingness to embrace openly and publicly. There was no embarrassment, no protestation of Britishness, no hint of sexual stimuli. Instead, he is a shining light from a land where showing affection in public just isn't done. I have been rebuked for hugging other men in church, a place where I thought public affection could be expressed freely without censure. How I desire that everyone would hug like that, with less reservation in showing affection, especially in church. Without anyone looking on with a self-righteous judgemental stare.

Prince Harry hugs a male competitor

The Royal's easygoing attitude has won the heart of our nation, according to the Press, but not only here in the UK, but from all competing countries, including the USA. It is quite a phenomenon, which got me to think how Jesus Christ himself expressed affection during his time of ministry. Did he hug anyone during those three years? It is a pity that the Gospels say very little about this. But he had a way of drawing in the crowds, such power the Pharisees lacked. If anything, the "tax collectors and sinners" might have, out of obligation, paid some form of respect to their religious leaders, but I wouldn't put it past them that they disliked the Pharisees, at least secretly. Too many trifling laws and customs. You must do this, you must do that. Quick to judge and punish. Like forgetting to wash hands before eating, or carrying a mat on the Sabbath, even the healing of the sick on that day.

Jesus must have shown some level of affection. The case, for instance, of the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4). Jesus must have spoken to her in a gentle way, at least to win her heart. She took it for granted that she, along with the rest of her people, were hated by the Jews, and therefore I wouldn't have been surprised that when she saw the Lord sitting there, she was about to leg it as soon as her jug was filled. Instead, he was able to create an atmosphere which kept her mesmerised. The picture above of Prince Harry sitting closely to Elizabeth Marks, engaging in such a friendly conversation, strikes a familiar note. Such an image, in my opinion, is a perfect reflection of Jesus and the female Samaritan.

His ability to draw children is another clue to his tenderness. Parents brought them to be blessed. Did he allow them to sit on his lap? We can't be sure, but according to Mark 10:16, he took them up in his arms. So there must have been some degree of hugging. Try that today with other people's children. The police would be on the scene in next to no time, and charge you with paedophilia! Then what about many others who were healed of their infirmities, had devils cast out, even raised from the dead? Can we assume that everyone who was healed just simply walked away without a single hug of thanks, throughout those three long years?

Hugging was not the only way the Lord expressed his affection. He wept publicly on at least two occasions (Luke 19:41, John 11:35). The first occasion was about the fate of the city of Jerusalem, knowing that in less than forty years it would be razed to the ground by the Roman armies. His weeping has shown his love for the city and its people, to which he says that he was willing to gather in his arms in the same way a hen would to its chicks. Then in the case of Lazarus, who died recently. He wept over his loss. Mary wept too, and although the narrator does not say so, I wouldn't be at all surprised if she wept on his shoulders. Jesus and Mary in a tight hug, both grieving over the loss of her brother. Even the Pharisees were moved, which must have said something. Here in the UK, for a man to weep, especially in public, he would be considered weak, unmanly. Such is our traditional culture. However, supposing Prince Harry witnessed a tragedy at the Invictus Games. Would he weep? My guess is that he would, and with the favour of a majority here in England. Such seems to be the cultural shift.

Another occasion appears in John 13:23, and only in the King James version. It is where the narrator describes himself as "Leaning on Jesus' bosom." All the other versions puts it as merely "He reclined". So I checked the verse in the Greek/English Interlinear. There is a Greek word in that verse for "Reclining". It is the word, Anakeimenos. The verse also contains the Greek word Kolpoi, which is "Bosom". So we have John leaning on Jesus's breast, most likely sensing that something bad is going to happen, and therefore feeling upset. His position had no effect on the other disciples, with Peter tapping him on the shoulder for a clue to who the traitor will be.

Then, immediately after his resurrection, Mary meets Jesus outside the tomb, thinking that he is the gardener (John 20:11-17). When his true identity was revealed to her, she cried out, "Rabbi!" and ran to throw her arms around him. But Jesus told her that he can't be touched for the time being, for he has not yet ascended to his Father. This gives me some clues here. It does look as if Mary did hug Jesus in the past, before his crucifixion, and she was about to do it again. When was the last time? Was it at Lazarus death and burial? Indeed, was she the same woman? Whatever the case might have been, it does indicate that she was in his arms some time before.

Going by the Gospels, it does look as if the Lord was not too reserved to show affection in public. The same goes for Prince Harry. Both have won the affection of the ordinary people. But in the case of Jesus, it was the religious leaders who successfully persuaded the crowds to turn against him. Before then, they were even ready to make him King (John 6:15) which is the same desire expressed by some commentators for Prince Harry. The popularity of both Jesus and Harry were not generated by religion, nor giving of the law, nor even keeping to the culture of the land, but showing love. And showing it publicly.

It is a crying shame that throughout the centuries after his Resurrection and Ascension, the Church has insisted on law-keeping - do, do, do, do - with any thought of God's love slowly being cocooned out of sight from the masses who, while still alive, instead suffered the terrors of Purgatory and eternal Hell. And so the Dark Ages came and went, along with the Inquisition, followed by the Reformation, then finally the Eternal Security debate. Little wonder that the vast bulk of the population, then as now, are not drawn to the Lord at all, instead, a deep awareness of guilt has always been felt, with efforts made to alleviate it, by the development of Humanism, Uniformitarian Geology, Darwinism, and other godless philosophies.

Prince Harry has shown a lot of affection to the competitors of the Invictus Games, and drew the affection of the nation - to the extent the such a bastion of British culture - the suit and tie - is quickly discarded in favour of his personality and charismatic character. Jesus Christ has shown love to the world, the common people loved him, but the religious leaders hated him. And to this day, many religious leaders in the churches continue to hide the love of Christ from those desperate for him, and therefore turn to to the likes of Prince Harry instead.