Travel Biography - Week 126.

In 2000, we spent two weeks in the Holy Land, the second week at a backpacker's hostel in Jerusalem's Old City. During that week, I had an idea of a day spent in Eilat, the southernmost town in Israel, which is a short distance from the border with Egypt. One afternoon, Alex and I sauntered along Jaffa Road to the bus station to find out about the service timetable and whether the fares were within our budget. We then cashed a traveller's cheque at a bank.

Eilat Coral Beach, south of the town centre, is on the west coast of the Gulf of Aqaba, one of two fingers extended from the arm of the Red Sea, the other being the Gulf of Suez. Between the two fingers is the Sinai Peninsula, almost wholly in Egypt, and the traditional site of the Decalogue delivered to the children of Israel as written in the Biblical book of Exodus. From Eilat, the town of Aqaba could be seen across the gulf, backed by the Jordan mountains. The Red Sea itself is the arm of the Indian Ocean.

Our Journey to Eilat.

Eilat Town.

Coral Beach, Eilat.

Alex at Coral Beach.

View of the coral shelf seen from the jetty.

At the Pier or Jetty.

Our bus departed from Jerusalem New City at 8.00 in the morning for a four-hour, 366 km or 227-mile bus journey to Eilat. This included a short break stop at En Gedi, on the west coast of the Dead Sea, to refresh ourselves. Further along the route, not far from Masada, I caught a momentary glimpse of a peculiar-looking but famous pillar a little way above the bus window I was sitting next to. This was Lot's Wife turned into a pillar of salt when the family fled from Sodom, which was under divine judgement. Just as surprising was that as the bus was approaching the pillar, my thoughts were far away as I gazed at the seat in front. Suddenly, without any forethought, my head turned to see the pillar as we passed by - as if turned by an invisible hand.

I would love to watch a TV documentary about that pillar if the lab scientists ever load it into an MRI scanner. What would the image reveal? Just a solid block of salt? Or the outline of a well-preserved female body encased deep within the rocky structure? Such a positive scan result would cause a psychological earthquake for both believers and sceptics!

The bus travelled through miles and miles over the barren desert of Judah, bypassing the town of Beersheba a few miles west of the route. Across the valley on our left, the border with Jordan continues, backed by the Rift mountains once inhabited by the Ammonites towards the north of the Dead Sea, the Moabites along its east coast, and the Edomites by the time we arrived at Eilat.

Four hours after boarding at Jerusalem, we finally arrived in Eilat town centre. The air was warm, and along the sidewalks lining the streets were fine water sprays where anyone could stand and cool down. In all, the town itself looked somewhat tacky for a holiday resort, consisting of low commercial buildings and dominated by the single runway of Eilat Airport which, unlike all other cities, was in the heart of town. At the beachfront, modern multistorey hotels reached for the sky, obscuring the golden brown mountains of the Rift Valley that begin at Galilee and continue on along the Jordan Valley, the Dead Sea, and then the Gulf of Aqaba and the whole length of the Red Sea before crossing over to the continent of Africa to end at Mt Kilimanjaro in Tanzania.

However, I knew where I wanted to go, as the town centre held little interest to me. We found a bus stop for the route to Coral Beach, nearly 7 km or 4.3 miles south of the bus station. When we arrived, the bus carried on a little further where it terminated close to Taba, on the Egyptian side of the border. Amazingly enough, we were the only two people who alighted at this location. There were some people on the beach, diving and snorkelling but being off-season, there were no beach crowds like we see during the summer at Bournemouth on a warm, sunny weekend. By comparison, Coral Beach was virtually deserted.

View of Coral Beach from the Pierhead.

Facing towards the Egyptian Border.

A closer look at the shallow coral shelf.

The Mountains of Jordan are behind Alex.

We had to pay a fee to enter the beach area which was backed by a hotel. I thought that this would have been ideal for a week's holiday, or even a long weekend. As a hotel guest, I would have had unlimited access to the beach and the coral reef. At the hotel reception, I hired a snorkelling mask and also bought a single-use underwater camera like the ones I had in Australia. Alex and I came to an agreement for her to remain dry due to her pregnancy. She was cooperative, and although she would have liked to have sampled some snorkelling experience for herself, she agreed to remain on the pierhead for the baby's sake. She also took care of our picnic lunch and other necessities after paying for the use of one of the clothes lockers.

Entry into the sea was not from the beach itself but from the end of a pier or jetty jutting some 30 metres out to sea. As the sandy beach sloped into the sea, the sand gave way to a shallow coral shelf, a very spectacular and colourful sight from the pier. The shelf continued on until it suddenly dropped to the sea floor, several metres down, forming a submerged cliff wall of coral. This was the coral garden I was about to see. The seafloor itself remains barren of any coral life as it consists of sand, and hard, firm rock is needed for the polyps to settle and establish a colony. Although I was able to make comparisons with the Great Barrier Reef, this reef was quite different. The Australian version has the reef spreading across the sea floor, whether surrounding a coral cay, a continental island off the mainland, or covering a range of seamounts such as the Outer Barrier Reef, all coral reefs need hard bedrock.

Another difference between Coral Beach and the Great Barrier Reef was the condition of the water. The sea within the Gulf of Aqaba has a greater salinity level than around Australia. The higher salt content makes the water very clear and free from the cloudiness common in the Indo-Pacific. Therefore, when it comes to underwater photography, the photos I got back were superior to those from Australia in clarity and sharpness of colour.

After I had changed into my swimwear, Alex and I made our way to the pier, passing the line that roped off entry into the sea directly from the beach. As we strolled along the pier, we watched the strip of sand turn into a coral bed as it sloped beneath the surface. At the end of the pier, a short platform had steps leading straight into the deep water. Alex sat on one of those steps whilst I swam straight out, with mask and snorkel fully in position.

Coral Detail using my underwater camera.

All these pictures were taken by me.

Coral detail.

Coral detail

As I surveyed the spectacular reef, my mind went back to Australia just three years earlier. The sheer joy of coral reef snorkelling returned, but with a difference. In 1997, I was free, single and with little responsibility. This time, I was married, my beloved wife was here with me, and a child was on its way. As I looked ahead, I'd be trading my reef snorkelling for sleepless nights as I tend to a crying child.

The fish I saw while I was snorkelling at Coral Beach Reef were more abundant than at the Great Barrier Reef. The most common was Sergeant Major Damselfish, which I saw also in the Indo-Pacific. Also, the Jewel Fairy Basslet swarming in great numbers around the coral provided a spectacular sight in itself, and actually swimming with them was an experience no visit to an aquarium could match. I also identified a single Emperor Angelfish with its beautiful shining blue body - beautiful to us, but a message to potential predators that this fish would not be good to eat. Bright colours are often associated with poison and a warning to predators.

I spent a considerable amount of time in the water while Alex watched and waited patiently. It's during those times - like I was at the Great Barrier Reef, and now here in the Gulf of Aqaba, I wished that I had done a lot better at school, and attended University (in my day there were no university fees. I would have lived on a Government student grant) and entered the field of marine biology - and then specialise in coral reefs. Instead of climbing a ladder in the cold to clean windows owned by shifty customers, I would have learned to scuba dive, work in a laboratory, and contribute to the reef's health. Dealing with bleaching caused by the warming of the surrounding water would have demanded full commitment - and the joy that would have accompanied such dedication when I saw the polyps beginning to thrive.

But in the sixties, the decade of schooling, I was aware of the existence of corals, but I knew nothing about them. Even right up to 1997, my knowledge of corals was very limited. It took a first-hand view of the coral polyps at Green Island for the scales to fall out of my eyes and discover what is to me an exciting new world. And a world I would have done my best to dedicate my living to protect and preserve.

We remained at the pierhead as Alex took out our lunch and picnicked over the sea. Afterwards, we took a stroll together along the beach while my stomach digested the food. I looked around this beautiful environment. Instead of the sea vanishing in a straight line at the horizon as all large bodies of water do, here the pinkish mountains of Jordan back what looks more like a large ribbon lake or a very wide river. By looking carefully at the base of the Jordan mountains, I could see the faraway town of Aqaba, after which the whole gulf is named.

There weren't many people at Coral Beach, but there were a small number. Some of the divers and snorkelers were crowding around a spot in the sea about 70 or 80 metres off the coast. I began to feel curious about what these people were looking at. After a while, Alex and I made our way to the pierhead. Once again, Alex sat where she sat before and watched. With the snorkel equipment in place, I swam out to where the offshore divers were.

What I saw was a small seamount, an isolated conical rock formation that had been colonised by a healthy-looking reef. Some divers were close to it, but from where I was, I still had a good view. Too bad that all the snapshots of the underwater camera were all exposed. I would have loved to have taken at least two or three of this isolated reef, with divers attending to it.

Sergeant Major Damselfish

Jewel Fairy Basslets.

Sergeant Majors and other species near Pierhead.

Returning to Jerusalem.

The schedule for the day was four hours to get to Eilat, and four hours to return to Jerusalem. Since our bus was scheduled to leave at 17.00 hours to arrive in Jerusalem at 21.00 hours, that allowed us a clear four hours at Coral Beach before we made our way back to the Central Bus Station. To us, four hours was enough. Within that timeslot, I saw as much of the coral as my heart desired. Furthermore, I have an underwater camera with a film of 24 exposures, all of the coral, the acetate film awaiting development and from it, prints made. All the underwater pics featured here are from that film.

We saw dusk as the bus headed north through Judah. The mountains of Jordan continued northward, uninterrupted, as these mountains are the result of a Rift Valley stretching as far north as Galilee.

Alex was not pleased with me as she slept next to me on the bus. She really would have liked to have seen the reef for herself, and I might have been overcautious in protecting our baby. Maybe next time I hope to be happier in watching her enjoy a swim. Fortunately, that opportunity wasn't far off. However, by the time we arrived back at the hostel, things between us were beginning to look up.

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Next Week: En Gedi, where I could have ended up in hospital.

Corals, Wife, Baby and Me = Four

Alex and I rose one early morning after the chiming from the bells of the nearby Church of the Holy Sepulchre, set in the heart of the Christian Quarter of Jerusalem Old City during Autumn of the year 2000. We knew that this particular day is going to be a busy one. Being off-season, the backpacker's hostel was empty of all other guests. Not that it mattered to us. We occupied the only private bedroom on the first floor. The two other rooms, empty of guests at the time, were dormitories, accommodating single bunk beds, one of them I occupied as a single traveller back in 1993 and 1994 respectively.

Back then, especially in 1994, The New Swedish Hostel was packed with young backpackers, with both genders squeezed into each of the dormitories, with the Medieval domed ceiling adding historic character to the enhancement of our experience. But this time, I was happy to pay more per night in a private room with a double bed. 

We made our own breakfast at the tiny combined member's kitchen and dining room. After we washed the dishes and cleared them away, we set off, the two of us walking through Souk David, and past the Citadel that stands guard over Jaffa Gate, then along the outside of the city wall, towards Jaffa Road in the New City as we made our way to the bus station. During this walk, we passed the Ron Hotel, facing Zion Square and the junction with Ben Yehuda Street - Ron Hotel being the same venue I checked in during late Spring of 1976, over 24 years earlier.

We finally entered the Egged Central Bus Station (and where I was glad to see the toilets!) and having bought tickets, we boarded the bus for the four-hour journey to Eilat, on the northern tip of the Red Sea.

After a four-hour ride, which included a rest stop by the Dead Sea, we arrived at Eilat. After checking out the resort town, we caught a local bus to Coral Beach, a nature reserve and resort just a mile short of the Egyptian border.

Jetty at Coral Beach, Eilat. Taken Oct. 2000.

We had to pay to enter the beach enclosure, which also boasts a hotel with a desk that rents out snorkels. Since Alex was 19 weeks pregnant with our first daughter, we agreed that only I will go into the water whilst she sat and watched from the jetty and preparing lunch for both of us.

As I revelled at the corals beneath me, with many tropical fishes swimming among them, I couldn't help but make a mental comparison to the Great Barrier Reef I visited only four years earlier in 1997. These are different species of coral altogether, mainly hard coral which had built a reef along the west coast of the Red Sea, forming an underwater coral cliff. By contrast, the parts of the Great Barrier Reef I have visited consist of both hard and soft coral, the latter resembling spaghetti strands swaying gently by the current. However, the corals of Green Island cay, off the port of Cairns, was devastated by the invasion of the Crown-of-Thorns starfish. Thank goodness that the reefs of neighbouring Low Isles cay and the fringe reef of Border Island of the Whitsundays archipelago - along with the reef of the Red Sea - remains relatively free from this aquatic pest.

About fifty to seventy metres out from the coast, I saw some divers swimming around a particular spot before they disappeared underwater. This aroused my curiosity. I began to swim to the area. It was then I saw a towering mound of coral standing alone and separate from the coastal reef, with some divers below as they examined the reef from close quarters. One of them looked up to see me floating almost directly above, breathing into my snorkel. As a goodwill gesture, I closed my right fist and stuck out my thumb with the tip pointing upward. The diver looked as if he took offence and returned to the coral mound.

It was afterwards when I realised that by sticking up my thumb, a sign of goodwill here in the UK, in Israel, this was offensive. I felt so embarrassed! What I should have done was to form a circle with my thumb and index finger. Not only was this a goodwill sign in Israel but also an international gesture that all is well among divers.

Other than that setback, the rest of the day went very well for both of us. We had lunch at the jetty, and like at the Great Barrier Reef, I also bought a single-use submersible camera when I rented the snorkelling gear. It was in the evening that my beloved felt somewhat regretful that she didn't share the aquatic experience with me. But she also understood that with the baby growing inside her, we felt that it was better for her to remain safe.

After spending several hours in Eilat, we boarded the bus back to Jerusalem. As we sat on the bus, I looked out of the window across the Rift Valley to the Jordanian mountains on the other side while Alex was sleeping. As the dry Arabah Valley gives way to the Dead Sea at the lower end of the Jordan Rift Valley, I was able to visualise Moses standing on one of those Jordanian mountains, looking across the valley and seeing the expanse of the Holy Land, even as far as the Mediterranean Sea. The land which God told him he wouldn't be allowed to enter.

The sound of the bus engine, as it purred along the road, enhanced the haunting feel of the valley, as if so much history had taken place there, I found to be almost disturbing, especially after dark. I was able the visualise the ancient nation of Edom to the south of the valley, and Ammon further to the north. The discarnate ghosts of ancient history all gazing at this lonely vehicle carrying living passengers from Eilat to Jerusalem. It was a feeling I had never experienced elsewhere.

Red Sea Corals, taken with a submersible camera.

Zebra Fish at the Red Sea.

It was late in the evening before we arrived back at the hostel. Seeing the streets lights of Jerusalem had dispelled any oddness I might have felt during the nighttime journey. Yet, in all, it was a great day as we celebrated our first wedding anniversary.

My fascination with the Holy Land goes back to the early to mid-seventies. I was converted from atheism to a Christian believer late in 1972, then aged 20. And one of the fruits of conversion was to start reading the Bible, not only for my spiritual growth but also as a fount of knowledge not learned at school.

And one feature I gradually discovered was that of all the ancient settlements, Jerusalem is mentioned most, and the Bible seems to put much emphasis on this city, both throughout the Old Testament and into the New, at least up to the book of Acts. After this, all the letters concentrated on the churches around the Roman Empire until into the book of Revelation, where Jerusalem once again takes centre stage. Therefore, I came to realise that this specific city holds a very prominent place in God's word to mankind.

But there was an issue left from my days of being an atheist. I was still a devout evolutionist. It was while I was alone in the house during a thunderstorm when I felt a curiosity about how it all began. So, turning to Genesis chapters 1-3, I began to read. And I gasped as I read. Especially about the Fall of Adam and Eve in chapter 3. I thought, No, Adam, no, don't do it! AAAHH!

It was as if the Lord Himself was standing in front of me, offering a choice in what to believe - Evolution or Creation. I didn't hesitate. I believed in Creationism straight away. It was as if the Lord was pleased with my decision and opened the door for knowledge to increase, along with the wonderful privilege to visit this fascinating city in person.

It wasn't long after I had flown the nest and moved into a bachelor pad in 1976 before I had the desire to visit Israel. But not in a tour group. Instead, I wanted to visit the Holy Land on my own, as a backpacker, very much as I travelled across Europe since 1973. And so, still immature and naive as I was, I boarded the airline at Heathrow to Tel Aviv - alone. And my work colleagues were fascinated with me for heading to the Middle East as an independent in the first place.

But I shouldn't have been surprised. After landing at Ben Gurion Airport, I took a taxi to Jerusalem, and the cabbie recommended the Ron Hotel for me. After arrival, I paid the cabbie off, and entered the hotel and asked if there's a room. Thank goodness the receptionist understood English! Suddenly I felt a sense of relief as I climbed the stairs to my assigned room.

As I lay on the bed, suddenly from outside, there was a loud sound of a gunshot. Not from a rifle but from something far more powerful. The boom echoed across the city. Then I knew that this was no beach holiday. Rather, I was in the midst of a war zone. But I was determined to make the best of this trip and see the city so familiar to Jesus Christ, his disciples, and the prophets.

And how I loved the Old City of Jerusalem! Back in 1976, before Israel became more westernised, there was much of the Middle East culture still intact. In the Old City, the streets, or souks, had a gulley running down the centre of the street. Into which slops, including droppings from passing donkeys, were washed into and drained away. Middle East music, very different from our western music, dominated the radio waves. The call to prayer echoed from the minarets of mosques seen across East Jerusalem, such calls echoed eerily down the Kidron Valley. The currency was the Israeli Pound, left from the former British mandate which ended in 1948. But to walk the streets and to visit the Temple Mount so familiar in the Bible was the ultimate thrill, along with wading through the water flowing through Hezekiah's Tunnel, and to stand at the summit of the Mount of Olives, admiring the splendid view of the city - the view Jesus Himself was so familiar with!

Not all was peaches and cream, though. Nearly every day, Arab youths would take me by my arm and start to tour me around - for a fee. At first, I ended up paying them, but eventually, I learned to say No firmly, without being rude. And when my funds ran low before the time, I was advised to write a letter to my parents to transfer some funds to a certain bank in Jerusalem. By sending the letter to them by special post, within three days, my funds were restored. A very important lesson learned!

My next visit to Jerusalem was in 1993, and again in 1994, when I found out that the Prime Minister of Israel, Yitzhak Rabin, held a conference at the Ron Hotel with PLO leader Yasser Arafat over the proposal to hand over East Jerusalem to the Palestinians, very much against the wishes of the Israelis. A huge crowd of Israelis were demonstrating at Zion Square, spilling into Jaffa Road and Ben Yehuda Street. Here and there, TV cameras were seen, and I wondered whether this protest demonstration will feature on the BBC News. And I found myself right in the midst of it.

Jews celebrate the Sabbath at the Western Wall, 1993.

Walking across the Land where Jesus Christ trod, was the title of the diary which I kept after returning home from the 1976 trip. To visit the land which proves full verification of the Bible was indeed a wonderful privilege.

With the year 2000 trip to Israel with Alex, the total number of weeks I spent in the Holy Land throughout my life adds up to 22 weeks.

Prosperity Gospel is Heresy.

 As we spent the evening together browsing YouTube - there was nothing worth watching that particular evening on either of the BBC channels, neither does commercial TV grab our interest either - we tuned onto a video of this young Christian couple exploring Eilat. And I was disappointed with their footage. His wife, already in the sea and using a waterproof video camera, filmed him leaping off the pier to dive-bomb into the turquoise sea. True enough, where they filmed, it was at a location further south along the coast to where we were two decades earlier. Yet, we were still intrigued as we watched him plunge into the sea bum-first over and over again, so close to the Egyptian border.

Coral Beach, Eilat, taken October 2000

Eilat is situated on the most southerly tip of Israel, where one of the two "fingers" of the "arm" of the Indian Ocean floods into the rift valley separating Israel from Jordan, the Gulf of Aqaba. Eilat is right at the "fingertip". The other "finger" branching out to the west is the Gulf of Suez. Both are extensions of the Red Sea, itself the "arm" of the Indian Ocean. The landmass between the two "fingers", the southern tip of the Negev Desert, is a mountainous area, believed by many to be the Mt Sinai where the Decalogue, or the Ten Commandments, was delivered to the Hebrew nation from Heaven. 

The resort of Eilat was the furthest location we had ever travelled as a couple, and despite being so far from Jerusalem, Galilee and the Mediterranean coast, (where all three we had already visited) it was possible to spend several hours there on a day trip by bus from Jerusalem. As Alex was nearly twenty weeks pregnant with our first daughter, she felt a little too cautious to snorkel, but having hired the equipment from the hotel kiosk, I enjoyed the full experience of subtropical coral reef wonders while she relaxed at the pierhead, keeping her eye on me.

The tranquil beauty of the reef, with little fishes darting to and fro, either unaware or unafraid of the human hovering just above them, it was a fulfilment of my dreams, also an echo of the Great Barrier Reef snorkelling experience just three years earlier, when I thought back then that I would be a confirmed bachelor for life.

Therefore to watch someone divebombing over an area where marine life is so precious, I have found unnerving. I can imagine any fish swimming peacefully in the vicinity instantly vanish at the moment of impact. Whether both are graduates I can only guess, but going by their more serious set of presentations elsewhere, I tend to think they are. But who am I to judge them over their apparent lack of concern for the delicate semitropical marine life?

The Red Sea, the Great Barrier Reef, even the black basaltic outcrop of the Lanzarote coast plunging into the Atlantic, forming a natural underwater cove brimming with life, I have got to admit how I was incredibly fortunate to see such marine splendour through glass goggles and breathing through a tube. And all such experiences are further enhanced by using a cheap underwater camera, its cardboard structure sealed in a transparent plastic case, at all three destinations. I was somewhat surprised that even with trashy equipment, the resulting underwater photos are good enough to grace any enthusiast's album. 

And such beautiful thoughts and memories, laced with a dash of disappointment, filled our heads and our hearts as we watched the video. Indeed, I consider all these experiences as undeserved privileges, although one can argue that by working hard and saving up hard, I deserve them all.

In Proverbs 16:9 Solomon writes that although man may devise in his heart, it is God who directs his paths. His father David also wrote that although I may reach to heaven, you are there. If I were to make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I was to rise on the wings of the dawn, you are there. If I were to settle on the far side of the sea, even there your right hand will guide me (Psalm 139:8-10).

As far as I'm aware, how can I prove that there was no Travel Agent near to where he lived and reigned? The hint of prophecy, if that was intended, was certainly accurate! As he had also written,

Oh, that I had wings like a dove! For then I would fly away and be at rest. - Psalm 55:6.

Had that always been my wish? Although King David had only dreamed of travel, how fortunate I am to actually fulfil his prophecy. It's as if God had wanted to show me His glory of creation, allowing me to fly away like a bird to see such distant wonders, such dramatic beauty, both land and sea alike, as well as the stars in their full glory from the bottom of the Grand Canyon in 1995. The purpose of all this is to glorify God.

The reef at Coral Beach, Eilat, taken 2000.

If I have something to boast about, then allow me to boast in the Lord. What does it mean, "boasting in the Lord?" It simply means giving God the credit and thanks for allowing me to make such trips.

Indeed, I can look back and acknowledge that God has blessed me well. And I certainly didn't deserve it! As one who by nature always sees the glass as half-empty rather than thank the Lord that there is some water in it, and tend to ask why God has blessed some more than others, here I will say that God has blessed me well without trying to make myself worthy of these blessings. Instead, they came by God's grace.

A psychologist once wrote in a newspaper that personal experience is more fulfilling than owning possessions. I fully agree with him. Here I'm not talking about whether owning a television, a cooking stove, and a washing machine as all luxury goods. These are essential to our modern way of living. After all, with shorter working hours than in Victorian times, a television will help alleviate idleness and boredom. A cooking stove saves us from having to roast meat on a spit in cold and wet weather or to boil vegetables over an open fire. And a washing machine is certainly labour-saving - another burden for the Victorian housemaid lumbered with a stack of dirty linen. And we need a bank account to meet all our needs. But whether there is enough money in the account to meet all one's needs or aiming to stack up millions is another matter.

Or the car, wristwatch or even a bicycle. Surely, there is a difference between owning a Skoda and a Lamborghini! Yet both serve the same purpose - to take the owner from A to B. I could own a £20 digital wristwatch bought from Argos catalogue store, or I can work hard to buy a Patek gentleman's watch for £100,000 from one of London's top jewellers. But both will tell exactly the same time. Or with a bicycle, I can buy a second-hand runabout from someone's private garage for £30 or I can go to a specialist bike shop and come out with an S-Works Shiv Disc triathlon bicycle for more than £10,000. Yet both would get me from A to B by pedal power. The snag is, I have no problem locking up the cheap bike in the street. But I have yet to see a Shiv locked up in the street - as if I ever will.

Or, for that matter, leave a Lamborghini parked overnight in a rough estate? Or even wear the Patek wristwatch whilst walking through a dark alley?

By now you must get the gist. Prosperity. And there is, what seems to me to be strange teaching going around in some churches. It often referred to as the Prosperity Gospel. If I have got its meaning right, then it basically means that prosperity and wealth will follow everyone who walks with God. And if a Christian is struggling with his finances, then he is either not walking entirely within God's will or he needs to "claim the blessing" which may include "rebuking the poverty demon" which is afflicting the believer's life. Again, Jesus does not seem to side with the rich man throughout his ministry.

On one occasion, a young man who is a ruler of a synagogue came up to Jesus and admit that even obeying the Commandments has not reassured him of eternal life. The young man asks, What do I still lack?

To which Jesus replied, Sell everything you have and give the money to the poor and come, follow me, and you will have riches in heaven. The rich man walked away sad, and watching him go, Jesus then declared how hard it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. Indeed, it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. No wonder his disciples asked, that if that was the case, then who can be saved. To which Jesus answered, What is impossible with men is possible with God - Luke 18:18-30.

Or the rich fool of Luke 12:13-21. It begins with the younger of two brothers asking Jesus to arbitrate for him concerning his older brother's inheritance. According to Jewish law, it's the eldest son who receives the greater from his father's will. This fellow did not believe this was fair.

To which Jesus tells the story of a rich farmer whose field produced abundantly. Figuring out that his present barn is too small to store his abundance, he decides to tear it down and build a much bigger one. After this, it's a life of ease, eating drinking and being merry. But God called him a fool and that night his soul will be required of him. Then who will inherit his wealth?

Yet supposing this man was a lot wiser and fell to his knees and thanked God for the abundance of crops, then asked Him on how he can distribute to the poor and share in his abundance to those not so well off. Would have died that night? Very unlikely. Rather, his life would not only have greater fulfilment but he would be highly regarded by the community.

The young rich ruler walks away sad...

Prosperity Gospel is a subject my Creationist friend Andrew Milnthorpe and I have been discussing, after having left a church which taught such heresy. If only we all realise that we cannot take a single crumb with us when we die. But I believe we will take our memories with us. I believe that once in Heaven, all bad memories will be eliminated, completely wiped out. But I believe that good memories will remain, and be a talking point among redeemed saints. 

Of course, God wants to bless us. To me, God has given me the tremendous privilege to live in a hostel right in the heart of Jerusalem Old City, the City of the Great King, and to walk through its streets. All this to bolster my faith in Him and to assure me that the Bible is true and also to gain a better understanding. Then all the natural places God has shown me, such as the mangroves in Australia, palm trees and tropical and Mediterranean vegetation in Singapore and Australia, Israel, southern Europe and the USA, the dynamic Niagara Falls in Canada, the majestic Grand Canyon of the Colorado River, the magnificent view of the stars in full glory from inside the Canyon, the coral reefs and marine life of Eilat, the Great Barrier Reef and Lanzarote. Yes, I have a lot to thank God for.

But as for material blessings, God may indeed bestow such on a person or family. But it's not to be stored away in barns but to share with the less fortunate.  Praise God for the death of Jesus Christ on the cross to atone for our sins, His burial, and His Resurrection to give us a new life with imputed righteousness credited to us, turning us from sad young men and greedy rich farmers into benevolent saints of God.