An Edenic Message: Panic-Buying.

In last week's blog, I shared some of my experiences with international travel, centring on the provincial small town and how God will continue to work within one of them, Red Deer in the Canadian province of Alberta. It has in itself gained an unusually high level of readership in just a week, which I find encouraging.

In it, I emphasised how visiting an "untouristic" town such as Red Deer can be a revelation to the backpacker on how the indigenous of a particular country live, without having to "put on a show" for the benefit of the tourist. The latter includes being swamped by shops selling tourist trinkets, seen just about at every other shop along the precinct. Although I have never actually walked through the main thoroughfare of Red Deer itself, I have visited smaller townships such as Amarillo in Texas, San Luis Obispo in California and even Monterosso-al-Mare in Italy, where at the time, picture postcards on sale were difficult to find. 

Such a phenomenon of tourism has, to my opinion, spoiled the indigenous culture which thrived, for example, within one particular location, the Old City of Jerusalem. At my first visit there, in 1976, each of the souks - narrow streets which are roofed over - had its own characteristic depending on the market it specialised. Thus, Souk David, the main thoroughfare leading from Jaffa Gate towards the Haram-al-Sharif, or the Temple Mount was, in 1976, pungent with spices and exotic vegetables. And the street which crossed Souk David, the Souk-ha Katsavim, was the meat market, where even unskinned sheep's heads hung outside the butchers, its lifeless eyes staring continuously at the throng of passersby. Maybe unsettling to the modern Westerner, to the locals, such didn't get a second look unless purchased for the family table.

A Souk in Jerusalem Old City.

However, I had to mind the donkeys which pulled carts of merchandise to restock the shops. And the donkeys were not shy when it came to defecating. Poop lying in the middle of the street was part of a normal way of life in that part of the world, as was the central gutter which ran through the streets.

Middle-Eastern music was characteristic back in 1976, and it was often heard emitting from radio units people carried. Then the Muslim call for prayer sounding loudly from minarets located at various points of the city. Such prayer calls can also echo through the Kidron Valley, where the residential housing district of Silwan was to pay attention to such calls. 

How things have changed by the time I last visited the city with my beloved pregnant wife in 2000! Gone were the gutters running through the centre of each street. These were bricked in, but the original course can still be seen. Narrow, specifically-built tractors carry the merchandise to the shops, replacing the donkeys. Instead of poop dropped onto the ground, exhaust fumes from the tractor petrol engines temporary pollute the air. Many shops which once sold spices and other traditional fares now sold tourist trinkets and all sorts of souvenirs. One shop had a display of inflated beach balls swaying in the gentle breeze, along with national flags, modern fashion clothing and luggage, particularly cheap holdalls, all making a kind of symbol as Middle-East culture compromise to become bedmates with Western tourism. Also, Western music has replaced the traditional Middle-Eastern music and singing which helped make the 1976 backpacking trip so unique.

And so the municipal authorities in charge of Jerusalem has made great efforts to modernise the city into a tourist-friendly environment, yet on the cost of diluting the spirit of Middle-Eastern culture and atmosphere which, for thousands of years of gradual development, had made Jerusalem what it was, and still so in 1976. After all, what would be more off-putting than to keep on side-stepping donkey's excrement lying here and there on the street?

And for swimming at the Great Barrier Reef? It was a wonderful privilege to snorkel over such marine life back in 1997 whilst backpacking Australia. But at least I was grateful that there were three, actually four, creatures I did not meet face-to-face, the Shark, the Moray Eel and the Sea Cucumber, and oh yes, the Box Jellyfish or Sea Wasp, with its fatalistic sting. The shark, which visits the reef regularly at night I believe, is the appropriately-named Reef Shark. Then the moray eel, that elongated fish which has a habit of poking its head from a gap in the rocks, both it and the shark have a pretty nasty bite! But the sea cucumber? Very tame, even timid - why should I be put off from being in its presence?

Fortunately, sea cucumbers tend to live on the seafloor of deeper waters and therefore unlikely to encounter one at a coral reef. This creature is basically a living tube, with a mouth at one end and an anus at the other, itself quite large by comparison with the size of the rest of the animal. As the sea cucumber defecates, it leaves a pile of poop lying in the seafloor. For me indeed, it's not a pleasant sight regardless of the diving mask. Perhaps for you, it might not be so off-putting. But to me it is. Therefore, in what might have considered an act of mercy, I saw neither of these glorious creatures whilst at the Great Barrier Reef.

Rear-end of Sea-Cucumber, about to defecate

I guess it's all to do with our innate sense of disgust, is it not?

Therefore what I saw only this morning confirmed what I have heard so much about in the Media. Believing that what it says in the newspapers was a lot of hype to boost sales, was true after all, right here outside my own front door. Empty shelves. Yes, the shelves which normally stock loo rolls. Various people were strolling along the aisle, gazing at wonderment at which only two or three hours earlier those shelves were fully stocked up. But as they stood completely empty, it became quite a unique sight among all the other shelves in this huge superstore. I even had a chat with one of the duty managers, and he said to me that the shelves were stocked to the full only that morning, and they will not be restocked for the rest of the day.

It's one of the most puzzling angles of human nature. So far, the national advice given over the COVID-19 virus pandemic was if anyone begins to cough often or have a temperature above 37 degrees Celsius, then he should isolate himself, staying indoors for seven days. Only if there is no sign of recovery after the week had elapsed should then the NHS be called, dialling 111 or seeking the service on the Internet.

And if such advice is followed, then why the need for so many rolls at home? These days, rolls come in a six-pack, nine-pack and twelve-packs. It would take a family the size of an average school classroom to get through a nine- or twelve-pack of loo rolls in just a few days! Here, I see the result of a combination of fear, panic - and disgust, each emotion interacting with each other to bring about such drastic action.

The subject of defecating is never talked about, certainly not openly and certainly not at the dinner table! Neither is it something to dwell upon and there's the sense of relief when the loo is flushed.  To add to this, how is it that, if Evolution was true, then every living organism, including mankind, is unable to absorb and digest everything eaten? If we as humans are right at the very pinnacle of organic evolution, surely, after as much as half a billion years for a cell to evolve into a human, that one shortcoming remains persistent - the body cannot absorb everything it takes in and therefore has waste to dispose of, and such action among humans results in a sense of disgust, embarrassment (hence the need for privacy) and repulsiveness. Thus the need for the Old City of Jerusalem to get its act together to attract tourists from the West.

Yes, I find extraordinary that Evolution has perfected (or nearly perfected) the human eyesight and the extreme complexity of the immune system, even the intricate, vast complexity of the genome, yet fail to perfect the workings of the alimentary canal.

Or there is the alternative revelation from the book of Genesis, the first book of the Bible. Here it says that in the beginning, God created everything which, including every lifeform, as very good. And that includes our first parents.

It was immediately after the Fall when God spoke to Eve, telling her that he will greatly increase the pain in childbearing, and in pain, she will produce children. (Genesis 3:16.)

This seems to indicate a great change in Eve's anatomical structure when the Edenic Curse was initiated. And that's only the very tip of an immense iceberg. According to the apostle Paul, since the initial Edenic Curse, the whole of Creation has been groaning, it is now still groaning since it was unwillingly subject to the bondage of corruption as it waits for the redemption of God's people. (Romans 8:18-23.)

The whole Creation enslaved to corruption. That is certainly not good at all. That was why before the anatomical change in Eve, I sincerely believe that the alimentary canal might have terminated at the ileum, near to where the appendix is located. That is, Creation was at first so good that disposal of digestive waste was not initially part of the agenda, for the body was able to digest and absorb all of the nutrients fed to it. And that applied to all the animals as well (even if many Christians may disagree with me at this point.) With entropy now at work in all things, order deteriorating into disorder, the whole of Creation is now waiting for the redemption of all the saints.

Shelves totally empty of loo-rolls by mid-morning...

That natural feeling of disgust, shame and even embarrassment over defecation seems to prove the verity of the Bible. The presence of such an infectious virus is proof of the reality of the Edenic Curse. The effects of the Fall and its resultant Curse is felt among ordinary folk, consumed by anxiety, going out to panic-buy loo rolls, of all products, under a potential threat of a couple of weeks of self-imposed quarantine. None of any of this can be called "very good" in the same way God called it.

One has a choice: To believe in the shortcoming of organic evolution despite having half a billion years to get it right.

Or to believe in the revelation of God's Word, which says that his creation was at first very good. That is until the entrance of sin and death into the world, followed by the Edenic Curse which has enslaved the whole of creation unwillingly to sorrow and decay.

After all, there were no loo rolls in the Garden of Eden. 

Small Town? Not for God, It Isn't

One of the joys in life I can be so thankful for was independent travel. This included Italy, Israel, Canada, United States, Singapore and Australia. And of course, within the United Kingdom itself. And somewhere between a bustling city such as Rome or New York and a Natural World Wonder -such as the Grand Canyon or the Great Barrier Reef, is the small town which is often untouristic. 

The small towns I have called at were often by the coastline, such as Herne Bay in New South Wales, or Monterosso al Mare, in the Cinque Terre area of the Ligurian coastline of Italy. Back in 1981, whilst stopping at a hotel in Viareggio, I was strolling along the beach when this local, an elderly fisherman, suggested visiting Cinque Terre, one area I have never heard of. I can get there by train, so he said, by changing at La Spezia for a local train to Monterosso. He was right. Had I remained on board the train from Viareggio, it would have hurtled through Monterosso Station whilst on its way to Genova.

Back in 1981, Monterosso was unknown to tourists. It was a rugged small town perched on the cliffs of the Cinque Terre coastline, itself the chief over four more, even smaller villages perched among the rugged cliffs, hence the name Cinque Terre. But at Monterosso itself, this was pristine Italy without any shops selling tourist tat or trinkets, postcards or whatsoever. As far as I can remember, there was not even a currency exchange (back then the Italian currency was the Lira.) And speaking English? Not a soul in Monterosso would understand the language. However, the town looked old, almost to the point of crumbling, yet was striking, mainly due to its setting. Unfortunately, Cinque Terre had lately become a popular tourist spot, as it is now.

Monterosso al Mare, Italy. Visited August 1981. 

What a contrast Monterosso was to the modern settlement of Herne Bay on the Australian Pacific coast, where I stopped for two or three days in 1997. This small town was rather drab, unexciting. This cluster of low buildings consisting mainly of residences and a shopping mall, along with plenty of hotels and backpackers hostels, and the town swarmed with mostly young tourists. So why this otherwise unexciting place so contrasting with Monterosso in 1981? Simple. Herne Bay is the gateway to Fraser Island, the world's largest natural sandbank and the home of the world's cleanest body of freshwater, Lake McKenzie, the venue where the BBC documentary Living with Dinosaurs was filmed. The constant flow of tourists in Herne Bay was only interested in visiting Fraser Island.

One small town which struck me in 1978 was Amarillo, Texas. The Greyhound Bus stopped here and I alighted, hoping to find a hotel to spend the night. It was late morning, the sun blazing down, yet the streets were deserted as if it was seven o'clock on a Sunday morning. What sort of place had I arrived at? As I walked along the streets empty of all pedestrians, passing shops which were closed and nothing of interest to be seen in the vicinity, I decided to abandon any attempt to find accommodation, to board the evening Greyhound Bus departing westwards, towards Flagstaff for the Grand Canyon. This Texan town was a grid of low buildings lining the streets, with just one fairly tallish office block sticking out like a sore thumb. Yet this very town became famous by Tony Christie's 1972 hit, (Is this the way to) Amarillo.

And as such, I now mention a Canadian town of Red Deer, Alberta. I have never been there, but in 1977, I wasn't too far away. One of my stops was at Calgary, directly to the south, as I travelled from Vancouver to Winnipeg, then on towards Toronto, where I was due to board a flight home.

It's thanks to advanced technology that I can now get a good view of Red Deer on the laptop, thanks to Google Maps. And what I could see of it, it was just a colder version of Amarillo. A grid of low buildings with a superstore here and there, surrounded by car parks. The image revealed that there were many cars parked around these plazas, thus showing some signs of life. But like with Amarillo, the streets were deserted of pedestrians. Even downtown Red Deer, of which 49th Avenue passes through, its scenery couldn't have been more of a ghost town than some abandoned midwest thoroughfare.

Areal View of Downtown Red Deer, Canada.

Therefore it might have been a degree of regret that I had never called there in 1977. What would I have seen? A different town to the present layout? At least the Greyhound Bus Station, midway on the route between Calgary and Edmonton, would have been close to the centre. I could imagine stepping out of the bus station building to see a moderately-priced hotel just a little way up the road. I walk in directly and ask whether there is a room. The Receptionist then hands me the key, that piece of metal of immense importance, and I settle in, dumping the luggage and slumping on the bed, drift off...

Oh, the benefit of Off-the-Street bed-hunting!*

Wind forward 43 years and what would I find? Well for starters, the Greyhound Bus station is merely an outdoor bus stop which had moved to 65th Avenue with 67th Street, way north of the Red Deer River which winds through the settlement, a little out of the town centre, which is itself south of the river. A crushingly dismal spot to alight if it's raining, to say the least! Immediately next to the stop on the Calgary-Edmonton route, I would be faced by the imposing doors of the Radisson Hotel, an expensive-looking pile too far out of the way from any point of interest. But if I had plenty of money to spare and decided that I was in no mood to bed-hunt elsewhere, I would then enter, only to receive an apology from the Receptionist with an explanation that an electronic pre-booked reservation is required. Unless I have a smartphone, I'll be buggered!

Let's assume I did have a smartphone. I'll probably sit in the Radisson Hotel lobby (if they let me) and with the phone, I would have to scan the list of alternate accommodation. One comes up, the Super 8 Hotel on 49th Ave and 43rd Street. A lot cheaper. And near to what appears close to some parklands. And not that far from the city centre. I contact them on the phone, asking whether there is a room spare for one person. Yes, there is, and a down payment is required. After a fairly long walk, tired and in need of a rest, and using a credit-card-like piece of plastic given to me at Reception, inappropriately called a "key" - I finally enter my room and slump on the bed, relieved. Oh, for the return of Off-the-Street hotel room requests! Why must technology make life so much more difficult?

But why have I given so much space to Red Deer? It's a small town within the Canadian prairie, just east of the Rockies mountain range. A drive of about 150 miles via Calgary would take you into Banff National Park, a beauty spot certainly worth visiting. But Red Deer itself?

It's because God is there, and there is good evidence that he is about to do work there shortly. He has called one of my friends, Dave Betts and his wife from Ascot Life Church, to settle at Red Deer and to become helpers at a small fellowship, Trinity Church on 53rd Street, and somehow help it grow in both numbers and spiritual maturity. An alliance between Ascot Life and Trinity churches will be established, and I personally feel privileged to be part of it, in full support.

Dave tells me through his blogs that there is a high proportion of drug users in Red Deer, making it a dangerous city. But could God work in such an environment? I'm convinced that he can and he will. If anything goes, this seems to be in line with God's character.

Red Deer reminds me of what the prophet Micah wrote about Bethlehem, acknowledged by God himself as a small and insufficient city in the Judean desert:

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will rule over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.
Micah 5:2.

Here, talking about the birth of the Messiah, often known as the Christmas story, with Bethlehem chosen above Jerusalem or any other larger city in Israel to be the Messiah's birthplace. Bethlehem had already held a prophetic significance by being the birthplace and childhood city of King David, whose throne Jesus Christ will one day occupy in Jerusalem. If it can be said that a tender green shoot grew out of the parched ground in Bethlehem, to grow into a mighty tree which will nourish the whole earth, then why is the idea of a revival so surprising when arising from an insignificant Canadian town such as Red Deer?

Ancient Bethlehem might have looked like this...

This ties in well with Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, that God uses the foolish things in the world to confound the wise, to use the things which are not to bring to nought the things that are (1 Corinthians 1:26-29.)

Then there is the case of Jesse's eight sons, recorded in 1 Samuel 16:1-13. Samuel was certainly impressed with the firstborn, Eliab, with his height and good looks, with a proud heart and filled with self-confidence, something to boast about. But not before God. Six more brothers stood in front of Samuel, and all were rejected. Instead, God told Samuel to choose the last one, so insignificant compared to the rest, that his father did not even bother to call him from his shepherding duty until Samuel ordered him to do so.

I see a definite similarity between Dave Betts and the Apostle Paul when it comes to being well-educated. Both have good schooling. But here Paul writes:

But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I had suffered the loss of all things, and to count them but dung, that I may win Christ...
Philippians 3:7-8 AV. 

Paul had good schooling, a Pharisee, and a son of a Pharisee, yet he refers it all as dung, compared with the excellent knowledge of Christ. That is why Dave should take the same attitude towards his own schooling as the apostle did. The moment he starts thinking well about his background and pride creeps in, then the battle is lost. As for me who failed at school so long ago, I don't have much to lose. But I too wish for the excellence in the knowledge of Christ Jesus, as the apostle did, and I encourage my good friend and spiritual son of mine, Dave Betts, to do the same.

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*For more about Off-the-Street hotel experiences, go to one of my archives: Enjoyment-Disaster-Reminiscences by clicking here.