Stern Reprimand or Gentle Love?

Last week I opened my weekly blog with a testimony of our trip to Eilat back in 2000 as a couple, together with a bunny in the oven, after recently watching this YouTube presenter dive-bomb from the pierhead into the coral-rich turquoise sea. But today I would like to go back even further, to the Summer of 1970, when I was a seventeen-year-old teenager. Back then I spent a couple of weeks at Butlin's Holiday Camp located on the Sussex coast, close by to the traditional-style Victorian seaside resort of Bognor Regis. It was my first ever away-break taken without my parents.

Butlins Holiday Camp around the 70s.

To every reader who doesn't live in the UK, maybe a little insight might help define a holiday camp. It's a typical British institution, the original idea dreamt up by a fairground lover and entrepreneur William Butlin, who established a holiday camp, I believe, near the Lincolnshire resort of Skegness, on the North Sea coast sometime in the 1930s. Overnight accommodation originally consisting of tents, along with a nearby fairground, the camp soon began to develop into a full resort with chalets replacing tents and many other facilities added to the fairground, including a roller-skating rink, swimming pool, a table tennis hall, other games facilities, several theatres, two ballrooms (one for Old Time dancing, the other for modern ballroom, and there was also a discotheque.) All these facilities were free to use by the holidaymaker once the booking and cover fee for chalet hire was paid for.

Back in 1970, each chalet was a small self-contained room with a bed, a table-and-chair and a small bathroom, but no kitchen, as it was required to eat at the resort restaurant at given set times. It was the home for the vacationer for the whole of his stay. Had I gone with a friend, then we would have had a separate chalet, one for each of us. Nowadays, the chalets are greatly improved with kitchens for self-catering guests and larger family accommodation, in other words, what we would call holiday homes. 

For all the residents, in 1970, there was a huge restaurant, accommodating several hundred people at a time, where three meals were served, free, each day throughout the stay. Also nowadays, there are a variety of cafes and coffee bars catering for all, but especially for day visitors.

Set in a time when dishwashing machines weren't yet installed and thus crockery was washed by hand, in the kitchen behind the service hatch and out of sight from all the guests, the staff was busy in both in the preparation of the food and the washing up during and after each mealtime. Looking back, I tend to believe that many of the kitchen workers were undergrads on Summer leave from their universities. The stress which goes into such seasonal work is often revealed by a sudden loud POFF! - followed by a cheer from the guests - "Hurrah!"

These accidents tended to be quite frequent, hardly a day passes without one plate, cup or saucer dropping to the floor and shattering. And so the wheels of the machine keeps on turning - the famous Redcoats kept us all entertained, especially in the evenings, other staff were lifeguards at the swimming pool, others supervised each ride on the fairground, and still others pushed brooms, mops, and the daily use of detergent keeping the Environmental Officer happy and everyone, staff members and guests alike, enjoying the minimal risk of picking up a bug on the campsite.

And not to forget back in 1970 when it was quite fashionable for a lounge to be sited in the same building as the swimming pool, and below the water level. Huge tough-glazed observation windows lined the pool, giving a fabulous sub-aquatic view of the swimmers as each thrashes his legs about at the deep end of the pool. It was just like looking into an aquarium. As the loungers relax in their comfortable armchairs watching all the goings-on underwater, so the continuous, almost melodic low hum of the pool chlorinators ensure that its hygiene safety was kept to the right level.  

What a pity it is for such sub-aquatic views not to exist anymore! Watching swimmers and bathers through a sub-aquatic window was so relaxing, indeed, even therapeutic, hence the presence of fish tanks in some public venues to this day. Could it be the case of underwater flatulence be the cause of many prudish spectators taking offence and complaining to the staff? And even causing others to snigger? Not to mention the embarrassment felt by the bather himself. Indeed, the 1960s and 70s was a very different era, an era of innocence, even naivety, perhaps. Our last visit to a Butlin's holiday camp was at Minehead in 2003, with Alex and our baby daughter. It was to attend a Spring Harvest Christian festival, and the upgraded swimming pool, complete with flumes and a space bowl, is housed in a building of its own, without any observation windows.

Camp Restaurant around the 1970s.

I suppose these days when huge dishwashing machines now line the kitchen walls and far fewer dishes break, all this make kitchen work considerably easier, as even now the large restaurant for overnight guests is still fully functional. But going back to 1970, it has never crossed my mind just how often a van arrives with new crockery to replace those constantly broken. And so, such a vehicle may arrive rather discreetly in the staff car park and out of sight from any guests.

I guess might be quite easy for someone in his own home, having accidentally dropped and broken a valuable plate, to be criticised and be called a clumsy fool, especially when the offender is a child. Of course, the one making the accusation had never dropped any breakable item, and he believes that he never will. But then again, there is a difference between a plain white plate, cup or saucer, one of many in a large restaurant, and a highly valued antique handed down over several generations of a family.

One more-recent incident occurred while I was at a leisure pool restaurant following a gym and sauna session. A family was seated at a table directly in front of my table. Suddenly, the young daughter of the family, a girl I guess to be three or four years old, accidentally dropped a white side plate and broke it. She immediately burst into tears, perhaps with the realisation of it happening before and receiving a telling-off from one of her relatives. One of the staff members then approached and calmly cleaned up the shrapnel, probably even smiling and reassuring the little girl that nothing was really amiss.

The result was it didn't take long for the girl to calm down and cease her weeping, and the rest of the family was able to finish their post-swim refreshments without any further ado.

The incident of the little girl directly in front of me was out of an unexpected and unintentional circumstance, as with the worker who accidentally drops a dish at the restaurant kitchen. There is quite a difference between this little girl and say, a rebellious son who deliberately smashes a plate out of anger and frustration from not getting his own way. In the boy's case, a firm reprimand is needed to teach him the difference between right and wrong and that the world doesn't revolve around him, maybe with further punishment in withholding treats or favours and even to be sent up to his bedroom for a while.

Therefore, I could ask, what has inspired me to write a blog such as this one? Earlier today, my beloved was cooking in the kitchen whilst I remained in the lounge, reading the paper. We have an agreed rule here about not having two people in the kitchen at the same time. Suddenly there was this almighty "POFF", and I was startled. Alarmed, I made a dash into the kitchen, expecting my wife to be in a neurological fit, something which can happen quick and unexpected. But instead, she looked up at me very apologetically, a smashed bowl of stew all over the floor. The vessel had slipped through her fingers as she took it out of the microwave oven.

But did I reprimand her? Not at all! Having been married to each other for more than two decades, I knew perfectly well that this was purely an accident. In fact, I can say for sure that this is the first time something like this has ever happened. All I did was to take her in my arms and reassured my love for her. The same attitude Jesus Christ has for His Church, which is seen as His bride.

I suppose this incident is a kind of picture. Just as I was able to feel no need to reprimand her for such a misdemeanour but instead reassured her of my love, I believe that is how God sees me whenever I slip up. And I slip up all the time. Even King David once wrote that if God was to take account of all his sins, how would he stand? (Psalm 130:3). And considering what James says in his letter, that if someone keeps the Law perfectly but stumbles at just one point, he is guilty of breaking the whole Law (James 2:10) - and such he must be taken to Court, just as any car driver who was unfortunate enough to be caught speeding. He might plead to the magistrate that he had never driven in excess speed before, but his plea would be of no use. He has broken the law and must face a penalty.

That is unless someone pays the penalty on the driver's behalf. Once paid, the driver is free to go. In judicial terms, the driver was forensically acquitted. Praise be to God, the penalty for my sins, and there are plenty of them, have all been paid for by the crucifixion of the One who had no sin, His death and burial, then His Resurrection to prove that the atonement was effective and anyone who believes can receive this forgiveness of all sin - past, present and future. Are all my future sins already forgiven? Well, how many of my sins were committed after the Crucifixion? All of them, for there were nearly two thousand years between His death and Resurrection, and my birth.

Camp chalets, around 1980.

But being what I am, I can, and do sin in the same way as that boy throwing a tantrum for not getting his own way. In my childhood day, I would have gotten a smack from Dad (and indeed, I was smacked!) Such discipline was well deserved. As the Bible says, we will all stand before God (Romans 14:10, 2 Corinthians 5:10.) But this will be a judgement of rewards, not salvation, as every saint have been forensically acquitted. Therefore, all will either be rewarded or suffer loss. And I believe there will be plenty of tears, but all will live. Because forensic acquittal got by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, not a single saint will lose his salvation, but instead, he will suffer the loss of heavenly rewards.

However, God the Father has promised that He will wipe every tear, according to Revelation 21:4. After giving my account to God at the Judgement seat, I can imagine some tears will be shed. But God Himself will produce His heavenly hanky and wipe the tears away in tender loving care. It would be like the little girl who accidentally broke a dish at the pool restaurant. The member of staff who swept up the shatterings gave her a smile of reassurance and she made a rapid recovery. Or in the case of my own beloved, who thought I would upbraid her for her clumsiness and the waste of a complete lunch, but all I felt was love and tenderness for her. She quickly pulled through, and I went out to our local superstore to buy two identical replacement bowls.

Oh, to pour out my heart to God, and to throw all my burdens, anxieties and worries on Jesus Christ, because He cares for me - 1 Peter 5:7.