Looking at the Bright Side of Life

Today, I look out the window to see a cloudless sky. This is very rare in the UK, I might add. Indeed, it's that time when winter gives way to spring, the days get longer, the nights shorter, the weather warmer, and crocuses and daffodils colour the landscape with their blooms. And oh yes, the beginning of Daylight Saving Time when the clocks go forward in the early hours of Sunday morning, that somewhat crazy phenomenon when you wake up each morning as if from a hangover for days to come.

Spring blooms - Daffodils and Crocuses.

For us, the thoughts of the seaside or boarding the Eurostar comes to mind. Or had I remained single, perhaps another prospect of a long-haul flight. On the other hand, the library of photo albums that would have accumulated over the past two decades would have required enough shelving in a public library for storage!

Maybe that's was it? By the end of the twentieth century, I was wondering whether the sense of adventure gotten from intercontinental backpacking was beginning to wane, especially to the States, after five separate visits already. Who knows. However, at the start of the new millennium, my original plan was to fly from London to Cape Town, backpack to Johannesburg, then fly to Perth, Western Australia, then surface travel to Sydney before taking off again to California. In other words, another Round-the-World trip like the one accomplished in 1997. Back then, such an endeavour was financially possible, thanks to British Airways signing special deals with other airlines, such as the Australian Qantas, originally meant to repatriate Aussies temporary residing in the UK and wishing to return. Instead, in 1999, I courted and married Alex, thus putting an end to all long-haul travel.

Then again, what if...

What if I held a driving licence, valid around the world? Despite the paperwork involved - insurance, collision-waiver fees, taxes, etc, hiring a car would have opened vast areas of the USA not reached by public transport, especially west of the Mississippi River. Canyonlands in Utah is one example, where trails pass through narrow slot-canyons, barely wider than my shoulders, with high vertical cliffs of patterned sandstone towering high on each side of me. Or the fantastic majesty of Half-Dome Mountain dominating Yosemite National Park, a mass of granite challenging any hiker to climb to its summit. Or the strikingly beautiful Crater Lake in southern Oregon. At the visitor's Centre, I would have gasped at how fire, heat, and lava from the bowels of the Earth could have created such a huge caldera lake, further enhanced by the presence of a small volcanic cone rising from the surface as an island located near the edge.

Then considering the sandstone pinnacles of Bryce Canyon, also in Utah, it's worth pondering how someone like me without a driving licence can miss out on nature's rugged beauty. Getting tired of visiting America? With a car, I would have never been tired! There were so many places worth visiting.

Hence the frustration of using the Greyhound Bus, even with a month-long pass ticket, or the Greyhound Ameripass, as it was called then. The busses linked cities, not natural wonders, although I was fortunate to make use of public services to get to Grand Canyon South Rim in both 1978 and 1995 respectively. 

Indeed, despite missing out on these dramatic attractions due to my inability to drive, yet, I have much to be thankful for. When I was young and pushing a broom across the floor of a family-owned factory workshop, I had never dreamed that not many years later I would gasp at the thundering cascade of Niagara Falls, or look down into Grand Canyon, let alone the need to hike down to view the Colorado River from close up, along with the numerous buttes that make up the rugged skyline from below - that contrasts vividly to the straight line of the North Rim as seen from the Village. Or when I walked through the rainforest of the Blue Mountains National Park near Sydney and looked up at the waterfalls cascading down those high cliffs. 

And turning to aquatics, those highly treasured moments when I hovered just above the corals of the Great Barrier Reef and over the corals of the Red Sea just south of Eilat. Two very different kinds of coral with their variation of species. Last but certainly not least, to stand on the summit of the Mount of Olives, looking west across the panoramic view of Jerusalem, the City of the Great King, and a view not unfamiliar with Jesus and his disciples.

It's during these present times that evaluating what you've achieved can be very helpful both spiritual and psychological. Whether it to do with leisure travel as was with me or having a high level of education, the ability to hold down a respectable career, to be successful in the business world, or to excel in a sport, whether as a team member as in football or cricket, or solo as a track-and-field athlete, or achieving a marvel such as swimming across the Channel or writing a novel or set of novels that fill the shelves of a well-known bookshop chain, such as Waterstones.

Or to pursue hobbies such as photography, as in my case, closely linked with travel. The inner glow felt within by having achieved something, whatever it might be, to fulfil your dreams are all good therapies to combat the challenges of life, such as the war in Ukraine and the threat of the rise in the cost of living. 

Corals at the Red Sea, Eilat, taken Oct 2000.

I guess it's so easy to allow rage to simmer within over the evils of the Russian President, how through his selfish ambition to annexe this small, independent State back into the former Soviet Union has caused widespread misery to millions, even fear and death among Russian soldiers ordered to fight and take the land, after minimal training for many young conscripts. Yet, it can be so easy to refer to Vladimir Putin as the son of the Devil, evil, wicked, and yet find it nigh impossible to see him as also loved by God, who is sustaining every breath he takes, every heartbeat, every morsel of food digested, and the efficiency of his immune system. During our Zoom prayer meetings, requests were sent heavenwards for God to appear in a supernatural way to Putin, very much in the same way when God appeared to Isaiah the Jewish prophet:-

Isaiah then cried out, 

Woe is me! For I'm undone, a man of unclean lips who dwell among a people of unclean lips. Yet I have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts. Isaiah 6:5.

Isaiah already knew God before that particular moment, but the experience gave him that extra power to minister to the Israelites and to be forever changed. Using this Scripture verse as a yardstick, some of us prayed for Vladimir Putin to have a similar revelation of God, be converted, and the war coming to a rapid end.

I couldn't help but feel ill-at-ease. For Putin to become a trophy of grace whilst many die in his war without having faith in Christ seems to be the nadir of unfairness! However, no matter how uncomfortable it feels to know that God still loves him, yet, that's still true, for when Christ died on the cross, he atoned for him as much as to the most devoted Christian.

And then, news of the coming inflation, the rise in energy bills, higher taxes and National Insurance, no doubt would cause some, perhaps many, to shiver in his shoes and wonder how one will survive financially after the threefold crisis of the pandemic, the war in Ukraine, and runaway inflation still to come. But according to one journalist, many were around to remember the 1970s with industrial strikes every five minutes, the Winter of Discontent, power cuts, cancelled trains, disrupted flights, and the three-day working week. Yet, we got by.*

Not that I ever remember working a three-day week. During that era, I was working in a precision engineering firm making ball-bearing races (the two rings which in between the bearings rolled.) I fully remember the two diesel-powered generators installed to power the entire factory with all its machines and office equipment. As such, we all worked our full five-day shifts.

But whichever way things are likely to turn, especially on the financial side, I can thank God that we here in the UK are not involved in any war. My heart goes out when I see images and hear about how so many Ukrainians are fleeing from their homes to cross the international borders as refugees. And the courage and determination for all men between the ages of 18 and 60 to remain behind to fight the Russian forces. Indeed, they have already earned the respect of the rest of the world, especially from the west.

I find something so good in humanity, especially when based upon Christian principles. Countries of the European Union are showing wonderful hospitality to these Ukrainian refugees. Especially Poland, a member of the EU since May 1st, 2004 and a Schengen Area member, took in the greater majority of refugees. This seems to be in keeping with what Jesus himself once said, Come to me all who labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest - Matthew 11:28.

And this couldn't be more appropriate. What greater burdens are there and what heavier laden than being a victim of war? Here in the UK, refugees are offered hospitality from ordinary citizens. Unfortunately, Brexit-voting Britain is the only country in Europe insisting on an entry visa, and a layer of bureaucracy makes everything more difficult for a household to take in a refugee. To me, this seems insane! During the referendum and for some time afterwards, the EU was seen by some educated Christians as a precursor for the coming Antichrist, and the EU consisted of his kingdom to rule the rest of the world.

The level of hospitality shown to the Ukrainian refugees proves this Antichrist theory as unmitigated rubbish! If anything, as already mentioned, the EU is acting more Christlike than bureaucratic Britain! Therefore, rather than preaching from an ivory tower, is there anything positive we (as a couple) can do? I wonder whether we would qualify to take in a refugee by the bureaucrats, even if we have a spare bedroom in which we have accommodated overnight guests without any hitches. For one, my wife is keen to take in a refugee. However, it's left for each householder to select and sponsor a refugee. The snag with that, in my view, is that the better looking young and intelligent-looking type would be selected in preference to the not-so-admirable-looking crowd.

Thus my prayer for financial security, especially after next month, the start of the new financial year when all essentials will go up in price. Such prayers are not merely to avoid poverty. Rather, my prayer is, Bless me, O God, so that I can bless others.

Many Christians pray for God to help the poor. But I feel God is saying, You do it. You bless the poor. And so, I thank God that there are good and reliable charities who transfer my donation to those in genuine need without too much deducted for admin costs. Christian-based charities such as Tear Fund, Compassion, Salvation Army, Red Cross, and Shelter are a few of many charities I can donate. But that comes from financial security, allowing me to give freely in love and without the fear or concern for our own welfare.

The spirit of generosity is a gift of God, even to an unbeliever. Indeed, I may indulge in great travel memories, and yes, those memories are uplifting to the spirit, and I enjoy writing about these experiences on this page (as you might have already guessed!) But, I think the greater source of personal wellbeing is generosity to those less fortunate. And that includes war refugees. Thus, instead of wallowing in misery over the fate of those less well off than us, I can look on the bright side of life and give generously towards those in real need.

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*Richard Littlejohn, The Daily Mail Online, March 17th, 2022.

A Lone Light Shines in the Darkness

I'm sure many go through times of darkness. What I mean is: Feeling terribly lonely, unloved, forgotten, isolated, even rejected or forsaken by God. And in the midst of grief, a tiny light shines. Perhaps like a pinpoint but nevertheless, light, whatever its intensity, has a way of dispelling darkness. 

Like within the past 48 hours when I had to call for an ambulance twice for my beloved wife Alex. The first time was a response for a very severe backache which no household medicine was able to alleviate. At A&E, although she was treated well by a friendly nurse who administered both Morphine and other painkillers, the doctor, who was apparently British, himself listened to what she had to say, then curtly dismissed her, telling her to go home and consult a neurologist if she wanted attention. 

And went home we did, by taxi, with my wife feeling very upset. Indeed, being a doctor at Accident & Emergency department of any hospital involves greater stress in dealing with a constant inflow of patients, but we felt that as a patient herself, Alex should have received a greater level of compassion. And I suppose this is what the first impression the NHS is about. It's not how decorative or level of aestheticism the hospital building looks, neither the sophistication of the technology found within. It is how the patient, such as my beloved, sees and perceives the attitude of its staff towards her, particularly from junior doctors. 

With her belief that she was "a nuisance patient" in the eyes of the medical staff, Alex spent the next day angry and upset, and without outright display of her feelings she spent most of her day sleeping, virtually immobile, and even falling unconscious. It was during this moment, in my failed attempt to wake her up, that I was gripped with a cold, naked fear. The terror of widowhood entered my mind, foolish this may look to the reader. Then again, with someone such as myself who suffers from Asperger's Syndrome, these thoughts and feelings can be very real.  

Other thoughts entered my mind. Thoughts of the sheer unfairness of life with, together with the dread, also feeling gripped with jealousy of how one church member who is riding on a wave crest of blessing after blessing, thanks mainly to his university degree, and even boasting about it on Facebook. Alongside these thoughts and emotions lies the awareness of both of us feeling disliked and ostracised by a middle-class couple who also attend our church, and both actually adoring the said graduate. As I felt myself sinking lower and lower into the pit of hell, Alex slowly came to and whispered, Phone 111, before sinking back into sleep. 

The phone number 111 is for GP out-of-hours consultation with the NHS for non-emergency calls. Having dialled the emergency number the previous evening, dialling this number seems less distressing, but I felt a rush of relief to be told, after answering a series of questions on behalf of my wife, that they decided to dispatch an ambulance. After the paramedics arrived and accessed her, a discussion arose whether she should be taken back into hospital. They were keen to take her, I wasn't willing to return, but it was Alex, in her semi-conscious state, who made the final decision. So off we went - yet again.

At A&E, I found myself praying fervently beside her bed. I was calling on God the Father to first forgive us from any wrongdoing, then to break any adversary powers in the spirit realm which may be binding on my beloved, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth. I repeated the format over and over again, even with a sense of authority. Also included was a reference of the church couple who has ostracised us, in the name of the Lord Jesus, may their curses - if any were thrown at us by them - to be made totally ineffective. Not long after, Alex felt another highly intense pain coursing through the whole length of her backbone, intense enough to make her roar with suffering in the ward which brought the nurse running. With liquid Paracetamol fed into her bloodstream intravenously, her symptoms eased, and with Morphine also fed into her system in the same way, I watched her calm down to relaxation. 

Whilst in Hospital, this is how I looked.

A different doctor to the previous one arrived, who looks to be from the Middle East or from India. Far more compassionate than the last one, we talked. Fortunately, he knew the condition my wife was in, and he asked us why we desire her to be admitted for the night. When I answered that the suggestion was originally from the paramedics, as well as for further observation before returning home, he partially agreed. Then he went on to explain that in such a ward there are patients in distress, calling for the nurse, shouting, making noises, along with other factors which such a sordid atmosphere, would worsen Alex's condition, distressing her more. He then assured us that she would recover a lot quicker if we went home. We both agreed. We arrived home, again by taxi, at three in the morning, and happy to say that at present she's feeling better, although not yet fully out of the woods.

And so within this approximate 34-hour period of darkness and emotional distress, loneliness and feeling of apparent ostracism from local Christians, there was one beam of light, something of a lovely encouragement and of edifying quality. And it came from Uganda, in the heart of Africa. An email linked me to a letter written by a adolescent saying how much he and his family loved me. Yes, they loved me, even over thousands of miles distant.

With the risk of letting my left hand know what my right hand is doing, let me say that the family who once lived in poverty eventually became fully committed Christians. This was because of their alliance with a UK-based church organisation, Compassion, an offshoot of its parent charity Tearfund. Through Compassion, any Western Christian believer is encouraged to sponsor a child in the Third World, one child for each sponsor. The monthly payments, being by Standing Order made with the Bank, remains "invisible" in a sense that I don't have to keep doing it consciously. Therefore the payments remain ongoing for years, almost unaware, spanning the younger years of the recipient's life.

In return I receive letters written by the child, sometimes accompanied with his latest photo of himself, along with his full profile. He usually update on his education levels, his family, health and hobbies, and always included in the letter is a verse from the Bible which has been specifically helpful to him. A young child he was when I started sponsoring him, he is now a thriving teenager with a promising future. And he wrote that he loved me, an endearing message received in the midst of darkness. And this is not the first time either. Also in Uganda there is a university student and devout Christian who was also sponsored out of poverty by me during his childhood years. And like the present recipient, he too fondly keeps me in his memories.

To say that these African believers obey the Bible more seriously than our middle-class brothers seem to have an element of truth. One verse from the prophets come to mind here:

A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoking flax he will not quench: he shall bring forth judgement unto truth.

Isaiah 42:3, Matthew 12:20 AV.

I will direct this mainly to the aforementioned middle-class English couple who have a fetish for graduates and for posh people, but who dislikes me and refuses any kind of reconciliation. As with me, I have forgiven them in a sense that if they were to change their minds, I would be eager to welcome them and enjoy fellowship. This has always been my desire, as I believe this is the right way to godly living. But when the husband is walking alone, sees me approaching in the opposite direction, and grimace in silence as I smile a polite greeting, then this can have a dramatic effect on the emotions, especially in a moment of crisis (as mentioned in last week's blog post). 

And now it's the time of the World Cup international football tournament. Like the Olympics, it is held every four years, and once again I see the great hope building up among others for the chance of the resurrection of England's glory after beating Tunisia by two goals to one in last week's opening match. Together with Brexit, if England happen to win the Cup this time round, I dread the sheer pride, optimism and national glory which would cover the land. And with it, that look of gloating as they glance down at me, an Italian, someone who lovingly cares for his wife in pain. Yes, something similar to this has already happened from time to time in the past. All by self-effort isn't it? Or rather, the glory attained by the combined effort of eleven men kicking a football across a field. Suddenly we're on top of the world again, regardless of whether our national economy is strong or whether it's crashing to the ground and facing a recession. No matter. In international football, we are the champions!

Of course, there is no room for the bruised reed or the smoking flax. Break the reed, throw water on the flax - as long as they remain standing in the way of England's prospective glory, they both must be removed, trodden underfoot, and left by the wayside. I suppose that what comes to having a victory from self-effort and glory-seeking. And so as I watch fellow Christians allowing themselves to be sucked into the mire, I feel that I just can't go along with them. And I think there is an important reason.

And that is found within the whole of Psalm 144. Here we read about King David praising God for all war victories against his enemies whose forces posed a threat to the welfare of Israel. David was a superb warrior, but instead of glorifying himself or his kingdom, he gave all the credit to God for his victories. And here is where I believe is England's downfall. Glorifying themselves rather than glorifying God, despite the nation asserting itself as a Christian country. Since England won the Cup against Germany at Wembley in 1966, the national team has been wondering around the wilderness ever since, with its lowest point reached in 2014, when England failed to reach even the knockout stages. 

Scripture indicates that all the victory of all battles and contests are decided by God, rather than by mere human effort or glory. In Proverbs 21:31, for example, a few words written by King Solomon blows all mere human effort alone to pieces:

The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but victory rests with the LORD.

At the moment it does look as if England can win this time round. But if it does, let's not forget that it's by the sheer grace of God. And the whole of England should acknowledge this, therefore admitting the glory and sovereignty of God and us as the workman of his hands, which includes both team players and their supporters congratulating all other teams for partaking in the tournament, and especially the runners up, a reasoning which looks to me to be in the realm of Divine Creationism - acknowledging that we are all God creation, as opposed to Darwin's theory of Evolution by chance, by natural selection, and by the survival of the fittest. Especially the latter, as survival of the fittest seems to go hand-in-hand with victory through self-glorification, a prize achieved by total human endeavour, which includes exalting the strong and crushing the weak and the lame onto the wayside. 

I am the one who feels small, inadequate, ostracised, lonely in a big world where I find difficult to cope. Indeed, I feel like dust and ashes or a mere flea. And trying to care for a disabled wife whom I love dearly. Then someone comes along and gently lifts me up, without breaking a bruised reed or quenching of a smouldering flax. Indeed, I can call him a Christian, a word meaning little Christ, and with no doubt has the spirit of Christ. And which will exceed in righteousness by leaps and bounds over anyone who seeks the glory of England above the needs of the weak or needy.

Manhood Defined

Just this evening I was doing the weekly main shopping at the local superstore when I began to notice how empty it was of the usual crowd of shoppers. For me, Friday evenings has always been a great time to shop, as it relieves the weekend of the responsibility. After the last item was placed in the wheeled basket, I made my way to the checkout, where the teller sat idly, waiting for the next customer. A very unusual sight at any supermarket store. Usually on a Friday there is always at least one person in the process of being served, quite often two, with the second still waiting his or her turn. During the weekend itself, queues of two to three, sometimes even four at each checkout waiting to be served is more of the general norm.

But not this time. Instead the tellers sat idly, and I was able to breeze through. Then it dawned: I said to the young female serving me that it must be the live football on TV which was keeping their customers at home. It was an important match for all football fans, as this game was of a series of fixtures which would climax with the F.A. Cup Final later in the year. Then I said to her that I am not a follower of football. When she replied that she wasn't a fan either, I concluded the conversation with the words:-

This does not make me any less of a man, though - as I spoke with a hint of embarrassment.

The question of masculinity. And I write this more than a week after an incident at a curry restaurant which made me feel very hot under the collar with rage after suffering public humiliation while seating myself at table. Under the Facebook link, A Punch Averted, a good friend of mine typed, You are the bigger man not biting. In a situation like this, he was absolutely right. Had I responded by giving way to my anger - rather than prove my manhood, I would have lessened it, with the risk of all of us thrown out by the restaurant staff and bringing shame and disgrace to an Ascot church of adult men.   

Is being glued to a TV watching live football more masculine than missing the programme to go out shopping? Many years ago, back in the mid-1970's, whilst working at a precision engineering company, I cracked a joke at a fellow machinist, an ardent Queens Park Rangers supporter. In a discussion about watching the match, I came up with a suggestion on going out shopping with his wife instead. The fierce look he gave me would have launched a thousand ships! I went away laughing, back to my own machine, having both caught the funny side. But this kind of thinking most likely had arisen from his adolescence, when he accompanied his father to the weekly visit to the football stadium, while his mother went out to the shops and cooked the dinner. Those post-War days when men were men and women were grateful had an effect on my schooldays, when boys evaluated each other according to their physical prowess and their ability and competitiveness at team sports rather than on academic attainments.

Perhaps very much modelled on John Wayne. This six foot four inch tall embodiment of American masculinity left a trail of broken hearts and jaws everywhere, along with millions of fractured male egos, as this rough, tough, two-fisted, ramrod-backed, but always fair, character who conquered the Old West became the celluloid idol of masculinity to whom no other man can measure up to in the real world. John Wayne remains a fictional character, the ideal model of male toughness. But no less masculine is the far less muscular husband and father who doggedly goes to work each day to the job he hates in order to support his wife and children and to keep those nagging fuel bills paid.

John Wayne.

Indeed, devotion to wife and children through self-sacrifice marks out a far more masculine character than the hulking logger who desserts his wife "for that other bit on the side." Going by experience, true masculinity is not based on how physically strong one is, but on how he relates to others, in particular, putting the interests of others before self. This may even include the swallowing of pride in full public view, for something much better. I once read a story about an evangelist who was preaching the Gospel at a public auditorium. In the audience stood one gangster who has a record of street violence, and based his masculinity on his own toughness and prowess, along with his pride in the fights he got himself into. Soon after the main preach, this young man ran up to the evangelist in full view of everyone, and hugged him tight, breaking into tears. He had just learned what a real man is.

Another misconception of masculinity was emphasised by three journalists of the same newspaper, but at different times, two of the three were female. It is the British notion that stoicism in public is the sign of true masculinity. Over the years as a Christian believer, I had the "virtues" of the British stiff upper lip thrown at me by fellow Christians as well as by newspaper journalists and columnists. They write that since the death of Princess Diana in August 1997, our country had lost its "stoic, bulldog spirit" to become publicly emotional, mawkish, sentimental, schmaltzy, and wet - that is, except the emotion of anger. Like the time when the BBC Top Gear presenter Jeremy Clarkson punched the producer Oisin Tymon in March 2015, over a meal served at a hotel - almost exactly eleven years after punching journalist Piers Morgan in another dispute over a boxing contest. Nobody referred to him as emotional or sentimental, but instead received praise from columnist Richard Littlejohn for "being typical British."

This brings out what I find interesting about British masculinity. Littlejohn's article about Clarkson wasn't unique. The same idea was also reflected by fellow columnist Amanda Platell, who equally praised him. When he was ousted by the BBC over his hotel incident, a very large percentage of Top Gear viewers stood behind him, demanding reinstatement. They all loved his saucy humour, his bias towards racism, and his sense of superiority over foreign nationals, as was the case during his stint in India. While Clarkson could be seen as the more genteel British equivalent of his predecessor John Wayne, he too has left a trail of bruised faces and dented male egos, much to the delight of his fans.

Simon Peter could be seen as another who had similar traits to that of Wayne and Clarkson, even if he was Jewish and lived some two thousand years earlier. Muscular in build, this experienced and hardened fisherman was not only the life of the party, but would have been the first to throw a punch at anyone who dared cross him. Before his encounter with Jesus Christ, he most likely filled his talk with strong language, and according to the culture of the day, it would not be surprising if after a heated argument, end up in a fist fight with the local tax collector, seen by him as a traitor of his people while sucking up to the Romans. Little wonder that Simon and Matthew ending up as members of the same team was nothing short of a miracle, the power of God demonstrated. One interesting incident found in the Gospels was when Jesus allowed mothers to bring their children for a personal blessing (Mark 10:13-16). The narrator says that "the disciples rebuked them." I would not be surprised at all if the ringleader was Simon himself, who didn't want to see his Lord wasting his time on "soppy, sentimental drivel"- and ready to throw a punch to any unfortunate dad who had the temerity to insist on a blessing for his offspring. Instead, Jesus quelled any rising tempers with a rebuke before it got out of hand.

The whole life of Jesus really was a demonstration of manhood and the true nature of masculinity. This makes him distinct from the likes of John Wayne, Jeremy Clarkson and Simon Peter. In the world (and not just in the UK either) male anger is seen as a trait of real masculinity, and is often seen as a means of power and a display of masculine strength. And yet the only time when Jesus showed anger was at the Temple precincts in Jerusalem, making a whip and throwing over the trading counters. But his anger was never the result of suffering as a victim of personal injustice. He was angry because he saw that his Father's House of Prayer was suffering under dishonest violation of its true purpose. When the issue was resolved, his anger was totally dissipated, and he was able to plead with the same crowd that he is Eternal Life, and to come to him and receive it.

While on Earth, Jesus shows compassion to the sick, the lowly, and the rejected. As a boy he was subject to his parents, and as an adult he had a kind attitude towards children. In a culture where women were deemed inferior to men, and their word or testimony generally disregarded, and even gender segregation at the synagogue as well as at the Temple, Jesus has shown a high regard for women. Like the elderly lady who suffered twelve years of vaginal bleeding, (Luke 8:43-48) the chat he had with the woman at the well, (John 4:1-42) and his ministry to Martha and Mary (John chapters 11, 12). Here Jesus shows his true masculinity by showing love and compassion towards women while at the same time going against the grain of culture, and risking to suffer reprisals for this.

While the Lord determinedly set course for Jerusalem to be tried and crucified, and knowing with certainty of his fate, he went with the full knowledge that this was the will of his Father in heaven. Yet he also fulfilled Isaiah's prophecy that he did not open his mouth (Isaiah 53:7) in protest, grumbling, or in defence, nor did he shout in retaliation. He never wept for himself or for his coming fate. This has nothing to do with the stiff upper lip. It had everything to do with his love for Israel and the whole world taking precedence over his own affairs. In addition, the Gospels does record him weeping in public on two separate occasions. The first occasion was when he foresaw the fate of Jerusalem. After rejecting him as Messiah, Saviour and King, the city would be razed to the ground by Roman general Titus less than forty years later. He wept over the city (Luke 19:41) without caring what others might think of him.

The second occasion is recorded in John 11:35, the shortest verse in the entire Bible: Jesus wept. He loved that family so much - Lazarus, Mary, and Martha, that the sight of Mary's distress brought out his tears. If this was an occasion to show off his sentimentality, surely this was it. It was nothing of the kind. Instead, he wept out of love for the family.

Jesus Christ demonstrated a level of masculinity which was way above Wayne, Clarkson or even Peter. But it does not end there. We too can have the same level of manhood Jesus had. This is achieved by being controlled by the Holy Spirit in our lives, who is available to anyone who asks for him. It is that simple. Believing that Jesus is the Resurrected Christ and having the Holy Spirit dwelling within makes the man whole, and the Holy Spirit can direct him towards true masculinity, which involves putting the interests of others on the same par as himself at least, if not above himself.

It is the goal to aim for.

God's Compassion for Women

Mrs Bumble the matron was one remarkable woman. Somewhat on the corpulent side to say the least, she found herself married to a bloke who was once the parish beadle of a workhouse, in grim 19th Century Victorian England. She had found herself married to whom was now the master of the workhouse, himself a domineering, choleric, self confident and a very pompous character who, a few months earlier, got himself acquainted with a Mrs Corney, whose former husband, a member of the governing committee to which the beadle was subjective, was unfortunate to buy the field so prematurely, leaving behind this widowed matron who caught the beadle's attention.

A lovely courtship began to grow between the two, whose generous waistline between the pair of them were a vivid contrast to the half-starved, emaciated paupers who resided in the establishment. As the paupers were fed on a small helping of gruel each day, this couple visually testified that the food resource in the workhouse was far from evenly or fairly distributed. But the beadle's motive for courting the widow was not from a developing sense of love spurred by physical attraction. Rather, he had nosed around her room at her absence, and on opening a drawer of her bedside cabinet, discovered a mystery wooden box with some items inside, which upon shaking, seemed to him as a hint to untold riches. So with this in mind, he married her, and the wife of the late Mr Corney became the present Mrs Bumble, a titled name he always used when both referring to her and calling her over. As far as I'm aware, her forename had never been revealed, neither in that case, her husband's.

So with such formal references to each other, little wonder that there was too little ground for marital love to take root and flourish. Rather, his curiosity over the contents of the wooden box in her bedside cupboard had got the better of him, and not long after their wedding, he pried open the lid to take a peek inside. He was devastated with disappointment. All in the box were twenty pounds, and some cheap trinkets. As all hopes of riches evaporated, his respect for his wife also faded, in response their marriage turned quickly sour when she found out his true motive for their nuptials. The atmosphere could not have been more icy. In those days when marriage vows were taken so seriously with no divorce options taken into consideration, only death of one of the partners could bring some hope to the living spouse. But with both being well fed and remarkably healthy in such a grim environment, they both knew they would be stuck with each other for a long time to come.

So one afternoon, he spent his time slumped in his armchair feeling very sorry for himself, when his wife walks into the cosy, well furnished room from the rest of the workhouse outside. With a piercing screech which would shatter a wine glass, she asks him whether he is going to spend the whole day lounging in the armchair doing nothing other than feel sorry for himself. His thunderous reply was that he could take any mood he wants, as being the master of the workhouse, this was his prerogative.

He felt victorious in himself as his wife first tried the tears. As she wept, his sense of triumph rose as he tells her to weep harder, as this washes out her lungs, relieve frustration, and brings benefits to her health. He then rises from the armchair, dons his hat and makes for the door as he leaves to go out, his heart totally waterproof from her emotions. But as he nears the door, he is stunned by the sudden knocking off of his hat as it flies across the room. She then performs a variety of blows and scratches across his face, then finally lands a blow which sends him sprawling over another chair which seemed to have been placed at that spot for the purpose. She then orders him to get up and get out before she does much worse damage to him, which she promises if he dared talked about his prerogative again. Terrified, he stumbles into the workhouse in total defeat, only to be humiliated by her again in the washing room, right in front of a group of female paupers, who in turn all laughed in delight as they were indeed entertained by the fall of this great man's pride and dominance.*

The author, before relating this story, reminds the reader that this sort of thing is quite common in many marriages of his day, in opposition to the more common malaise of wife beating. But the tragedy is that here in the UK, according to media reports, each week a couple of fatalities occur as a result of domestic violence. In most cases, it is the man beating his wife or partner, but like the case with the Bumbles, men can be beaten by their spouses as well, although this is in the minority. It seems to me that why domestic violence occur is that one always tries to have dominion over the other. And this is certainly not new. Instead, it goes right back in history to the case of Adam and Eve, after the Fall, when God had increased Eve's pain in childbearing, yet she shall desire her husband while he has rule over her.

But I have also learnt in recent years that this "desire" Eve had for her husband can also be a desire to dominate. Whether the author or speaker is right on this account, I cannot be definite, but the case of the Bumbles certainly makes that clear. But in many cases, and particularly within Islam, men had always dominated over women. Even in the Christian church, leadership has always been male, and although the Anglican Church has allowed women into the priesthood, and now proposals have been made for female bishops; in the Roman Catholic Church, female leadership is a definite no-no. This may have been taken from 1 Timothy 2:11-14:

A woman should learn in quietness and full submission. I do not permit a woman to teach or have authority over a man; she must be silent. For Adam was created first, then Eve. And Adam was not the one deceived; it was the woman, and became a sinner.

Paul the apostle says the same to the church in Corinth:

As in all the congregation of the saints, women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the Law says. If they want to enquire about something, they should ask their own husbands at home; for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church.
1 Corinthians 14:34-35.

According to my reference Bible, the "Law" refers back to Genesis 3:16, where God instructed Eve to be in submission to her husband. And as I see it, a law was established in the dawn of history, and since it was to the head of the entire human race, it looks to be universal rather than confined to the Jews. The Bible itself was written entirely by men. In the Old Testament, just about every leader was male, with the possible exception of Deborah, who told the Israeli army commander Barak to defeat the Canaanite armies, whose forces was led by Sisera. When Sisera's forces were defeated by Israel, he fled to a tent owned by a Kenite woman Jael. It was she who killed Sisera while he was asleep with exhaustion (Judges 4.)

Then there was the case of Rahab the pagan prostitute. After hiding a couple of Joshua's men from the threat of the Canaanite residents of Jericho, she was instructed that she must keep her entire household at home at the time of the invasion by Israel. For this to have happened, all the male members of her household, her father, her brothers, possibly her uncles or her cousins, had to submit to her leadership in order to be spared from destruction which came upon the entire city.

Other than these two examples, the Bible looks to be entirely male, including every author. All the Prophets were male, as were all the kings of Judah. Jesus was a male Jew, all twelve of his apostles were men. Paul was a bloke, a Pharisee and a son of a Pharisee. The Jewish Sanhedrin were all men. And according to his two letters to Timothy, Paul wanted all church leaders to be men, each of them having control over his own household. So, did Paul instruct the leaders of the church to be all men according to the culture of the day? Or to pacify the Jews, so they could not point a finger of blame at the church? Or his Paul's edict universal for all time, including the present?

I believe that the third option is the correct one, as the Bible is the eternal Word of God. Rather than to be confined to the culture of the day, it transcends all time, nations, and cultures. Yet on the other hand, I can't see anything wrong with a women's group within a church fellowship being led by a female. I do believe that with a female leading such a group, issues can be discussed more openly, without any degree of reservation had a male been in their presence.

But having said all that, there is good evidence that the Bible has much compassion for the fairer gender. One good example was Hagar, a maidservant to Abraham's wife Sarah, and mother to her master's firstborn Ishmael. Sarah herself was very much like Mrs Bumble - dominant and a bully towards Hagar - to the point when she ran away from her tent and found herself marooned out in the desert. An angel of God told her to return and submit to her mistress. She did, and probably avoided any punishment meted out to a runaway slave. But soon after Sarah's son Isaac was born, Ishmael, realising that he was no longer the top dog and heir to his father's estate, teased the child. Sarah then ordered her husband to get rid of Hagar and her son, as they were not to share the estate with her son Isaac. Echoes of Mrs Bumble. Not long after, Hagar, having hidden her adolescent son in the bushes, went a short distance and wept aloud, without reserve, for the life of her son. It was then that the tender, compassionate hand of God touched her, and opened her eyes to see a well of water nearby. As a result of that moment of compassion, Ishmael married an Egyptian woman to be the founding parents of the Ishmaelite nation.

Leah was another worthy of mention. She was the elder daughter of Laban, the brother of Jacob's mother Rebekah. We are told that she had weak eyes, and therefore ignored by the one she loved, her own cousin and husband Jacob. Instead Jacob loved her younger sister Rachel, who was startlingly beautiful. Throughout her married life, Leah felt rejected as her husband poured all his affection on Rachel. But God's compassion showed when she bore six sons, half of the entire nation of Israel, including Judah, her fourth son, who carried the Messianic Line and was the ancestor of King David. But that was not all. Jacob was renamed Israel by God himself, a name which was an acronym of initials including Isaac, Sarah, Rebekah, Abraham, Elohim and Leah. Elohim being the name of God himself, symbolising his presence in the midst of his people, incorporated Leah's initial within his own Name, thus demonstrating such compassion. But not to be too unfair on Rachel, she later became the mother of Joseph, who ended up Prime Minister of Egypt, second only to Pharaoh himself, and to whom all of his eleven brothers bowed the knee.

There are several more acts of compassion in the Old Testament, including that shown to Ruth, and to her mother-in-law Naomi. Then there was the widow whose dead son was raised to life by Elijah. In the New Testament, we read about Jesus walking all the way up to Tyre in Sidon to heal the daughter of one Canaanite woman. And other acts of compassion shown to various females throughout his ministry. Such as to the woman who touched the border of the Lord's cloak, and was healed of an issue lasting for twelve years. Or the raising of the widow's son, a repeat of Elijah's miracle. Then his relationship with Martha and Mary, the two sisters of Lazarus, who rose from the tomb under the command of Jesus. Interestingly enough, Martha was similar to Mrs Bumble, who complained that her sister was not sharing with the housework. Yet the Lord still loved her as much as her sister. Then who can forget his discourse with the un-named woman at the well, who was offered living water rather than faced condemnation for five failed marriages. And how he rescued an adulteress caught in the act from being stoned alive. Last but not least, while hanging on the cross, he commissioned his mother to be taken care of in John's house.

Paul the apostle did not recommend women to be leaders of the church, but he did insist that all husbands should love their wives, as Christ loves the church. The resurrected Lord sees his Church as a bride, full of glory and splendour. So, no doubt, God would want us as husbands to see our wives in the same way, for that's how God loves them.

Poor Mrs Bumble! If only her husband really loved her for who she was instead of deceiving her and throwing his prerogative around. Both might have enjoyed a far happier marriage, especially if she knew of God's love in her life.
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*From Charles Dickens' novel Oliver Twist, of which the above was my own analysis of the author's far more classical narration.

...You Have Done It Unto Me

Hebrews 6:4-6 is perhaps one of the most controversial passages of Scriptures found in the entire Bible. These mere three verses reads as this:

For it is impossible for those who have been enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost,

And have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come,
If  they shall fall away, to renew them again unto repentance; seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame.

Such words can cause such controversy within the Christian faith: One group says "Oh, these words mean that one can be convicted by the Holy Spirit and then reject the Gospel without ever being born again." While the other group says that these were true believers who had departed from the faith to such an extent, that they had crossed the point of no return, and they are lost forever, unable to repent.

And so the debate rages on. If you were to go to the Internet, and simply type in Hebrews 6:4-6, a whole list of websites would appear listed, all to do with these verses. And You Tube also, has countless videos of individuals talking to the camera, debating if one can lose his salvation after conversion, or not.

 

I have watched and listened to those who believe that these verses teach that salvation can be lost. They tend to look sad, as if apologetic, and none of these speakers had any edifying power. Rather, time and time again, they pull my spirit down whenever their videos of their speeches come across. And I'm not alone. Many years ago we as a Baptist Church in Bracknell had a visiting speaker from a Pentecostal church at another town a few miles down the road. This was in the mid 1970s, possibly 1975 or -6. Apparently our congregation was rather shocked as this preacher threw out any assurance of eternal salvation by using, among other Scriptures, Hebrews 6:4-6. The attitude of this guest speaker was one of smugness, as if delivering a basic truth which was meant to free each one of us from the shackles of deception, namely that we believed in eternal security of the saint. A few of us, including myself, complained to one of our deacons, which was passed on to the senior pastor, who himself was away preaching at another church that particular Sunday. Apparently, our guest speaker was barred from further preaching at our fellowship, as he was never seen again.

 

Hebrews 6:4-6 was also used by the leader of a small Pentecostal church which met at his home roughly about the same time, maybe up to two years later. He used it to prove that our salvation this side of death is not eternal and can be lost. But the biggest affray, leading to a near riot, took place at Minehead, Somerset in Spring 1994. There in front of a large auditorium, a Methodist minister used the same text of Scripture to explode the "myth" of Once Saved Always Saved, which he had abbreviated to OSAS as a further means to discredit its truthfulness. In all these cases, when a preacher delivers a message that salvation can be lost, it has always brought my spirit down and shackled me into bondage of fear, a direct opposite of edifying faith, and I found this to be universal among those who believe in salvation being eternally secure. The near riot in Minehead said it all. Had the message been edifying, the closing worship which followed would have resulted in adoration and rejoicing, with hands lifted up to a holy God. Instead a song was sung which was centred around Romans 8:39 where it says that nothing can separate us from the love of God, followed by a mass counselling session to allay fears. It goes to show how devastating such misapplied Scripture can bring!

 

Recently I read an article posted by a blogger who I follow on this site. What he wrote not only edified me, but confirmed what I believed for a very long time. That is, the letter in question is called To Hebrews - or Pros Ebraious in Greek. In other words, the letter was written to Jews, Jews, Jews! In every English Bible or New Testament, Hebrews, or To the Hebrews were adequate titles. What was the object of the whole letter? It was to contrast the finished work of Jesus Christ as the final fulfilment of all the Old Testament ordinances along with Temple furniture and regular rituals. The writer explains that these Temple ordinances had only a temporary effect in covering sin, and had to be repeated over and over again. But the Atonement which Jesus had accomplished succeeded in putting sin away forever, for all time, therefore making the Temple, its ordinations and rituals obsolete.

 

Before the Temple was flattened by the Romans in 70 AD, there were a number of Jews who were familiar with the teachings and fellowship of the churches, especially in Jerusalem, where on Pentecost and soon after, thousands became believers in Jesus Christ. But some of these Jews were not satisfied with doing away with the regular animal sacrifices, and after experiencing the new life among believers, decided to return to the Temple ordinances in order to be saved. To return to animal sacrifice meant that the crucifixion had failed to atone, and because of this, the death of Jesus was treated as of no effect, and something which could be trodden into the ground as a non-event. To them, Jesus was just a condemned criminal who bore his own shame. These Jews felt much happier in keeping with their sacrifices and Temple ordinances. Even in Judaism today, without the Temple and without sacrifices, rituals in synagogues are held, denying the effect of any Atonement Christ had made on the cross.

 

Have you ever sacrificed a bull on the Altar in Jerusalem? If so, then you have trodden underfoot the cross of Christ, putting him into open shame, because by doing you have denied his atoning effect. On the other hand, as a true believer, did you depart from the faith for a few hours, several days, months, or even years? Have you returned to the faith after decades in the desert? (I knew some who did.) If so then you have not trodden underfoot the Son of God. And will stick my neck out to declare that during your exile in the desert, you had never lost your salvation, as salvation is God's doing, not yours.

 

Yet there are scores of such well-educated teachers and preachers who claim they know the Bible inside out. They are often upheld by their supporters. The Methodist minister at Minehead was actually exalted by his followers to the status of a prophet, equal in authority to Isaiah, Jeremiah or Micah, an idea I have thoroughly opposed. Most, including myself, have tossed to and fro which of the two sides is right, for surely, both cannot be right. Years of one's Christian life can be wasted on such a debate, when he could have been spending his time serving God in a way that would have brought him the greatest honour. Instead, books were written, websites created, and videos shot, throwing theories and debates to and fro, and leaving me spiritually exhausted and often crestfallen.

 

Yet there are simple, straightforward principles the Bible outlines which is indeed pleasing to God. These are not debating doctrine but in actual doing of God's word. Doing - something which someone else will benefit, both physically and spiritually. For example, someone with an income sponsoring a child growing up in poverty in the Third World, particularly in Africa. This was something I began doing in 1997, after returning home from Australia, and receiving scores of leaflets from the Christian organisation, Tear Fund (now Compassion.) It took me weeks, even months of persuading, but eventually I got round to sponsoring. The first child had abandoned the project, the second child died soon after he was assigned to me, but the third I stuck with until he became of age. A beautiful relationship blossomed between us. By sponsoring him, he was delivered from poverty, went to school, received qualifications and, I believe, gone to university. Thus fulfilling what Jesus Christ had taught:

 

Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. Matthew 25:40.

 

What I write here, I'm not trying to give myself credit, as at first I was unwilling to help. It took months of persuasion to change my mind, simply because by nature, I hate junk mail, and such leaflets tend to end up straight into the bin. But this goes to show the patient grace of God, who did not give up on me when I refused to respond, but in a way, kept on knocking, because at the end of the day he wanted to bless me. It was the patient enduring of God's part that had brought the blessing.

 

Only the day before I attended a Compassion conference in central London. Believe me, it was a real eye-opener! Here I learnt about the dreadful poverty such families grow up in. One was about a single mother of several children, each with a different father. I thought, "Oooooh!"

Then the speaker asked us all,

"Hands up if any of you felt judgement against this single mother."

Nobody raised their hands, but I knew that I should have done. The mental "Oooooh!" was a glint of mental judgement. Then the speaker went on:

"The only way that this mother could bring food into her house was by prostitution. She had no job, no income and often no food at all in her house. During those times she would boil some water in a pan just to give the impression of cooking. But she had nothing to cook. Prostitution was the only glimmer of hope for survival."

 

We were told that along with poverty, there was desperation, loss of hope and prone to illness, particularly AIDS. When one of her children received a sponsor, life for the whole family changed dramatically. Not only food and a chance of education arrived, but love and hope - and conversion to Jesus Christ as Saviour. The boy who grew up under my sponsorship also grew up spiritually, enough to send me encouraging Scripture, often when I needed to be encouraged. I'm looking forward to meet him one day in Glory.

 

Sponsoring a child is one of many of doing God's will. For me personally, learning to be patient, especially in checkout lines, is something I needed to put into practise, and believe me, it was not easy, and even at present, I'm prone to relapse. One of the more testing times is when a customer in front uses a lot of our time trying to redeem a few pennies from a voucher which the till does not accept, and talking continues on between client and teller. Or as a domestic window cleaner, a customer taking a long time to pay his fee, often days or even weeks, and we have a household budget to see to. In all these cases, I have discovered that patience is an oil which makes good relationships and does not put the client under duress. But patience is a virtue I can only acquire by being filled with the Holy Spirit. I believe that having good relationship with an unbelieving client not only avoids unnecessary conflict, but has a greater likelihood of bringing him to the knowledge of Jesus Christ.

 

The blogger who I follow had put out this test - if what you have read has edified you, then it's likely to be the true Gospel. In turn, anything which brings you down is most certainly a false gospel. I can see the wisdom in his words. After all, Jesus did say:

 

The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. John 10:10.

 

Now one can't argue over that, far less cause a riot.