A Cure for Low Self-Esteem.

If you are a Christian believer reading this, then may I ask:

How would you feel if I admit to watching two naked lovers having sex on the BBC Iplayer?

Would you gasp in surprise? Or start praying desperately that I have not hit the road to apostasy? Or even click off this page and log on to another website if not slamming the lid of your laptop shut?

But please read on, the "how to..." will follow.

It is here that I want to make a point which I feel is very important, and therefore I don't want to put out a wrong message. As a Christian myself, I do not want to encourage anyone to watch porn, whether it's on the screen or on magazine paper. For many, indulging in porn to stimulate desire is sinful, and as such, I would not encourage it, neither would I play down the seriousness of sin.

Having said that, such close-ups don't bother me. I don't get sexually excited or stimulated by such scenes. Therefore, it was no different to me than if I watched an edition of Songs of Praise on a typical Sunday evening. After all, as a married man, both my wife and I can enjoy such naked intimacy whenever we want to, without a camera fixed upon our torsos and without a bloke behind the camera, operating it - and without the slightest guilt of sin. 

As a matter of fact, it was in 1994, whilst staying at a mixed dorm of a small backpacker's hostel in the heart of Jerusalem Old City during its peak season, that was when the dorm was crammed with young couples, predominantly from Scandinavia, Holland and perhaps Denmark, sleeping in each other's arms on mattresses laid out on the floor, whispering to each other loving endearments just as little as a few feet away.

Alone on a narrow single bunk bed, I slept well each night under the domed Medieval ceiling without any problems. Really, I couldn't give a toss about who was around me. I was far more interested in the Holy Land with its many archaeological sites, its ancestry, its Middle East culture, physical beauty and its links with Biblical history than I was in what was going on between the couples around me.

But I digress. The intimate scenes were not the reason why I wanted to watch the adult drama, Normal People, a twelve-part series with its first episode aired only earlier this week. Rather it was to watch the lives of two schoolmates, Connell Waldron (Paul Mescal) and Marianne Sheridan (Daisy Edger-Jones) - he from a working-class background and she from a middle-class one. Both lived with their single mothers who were both divorced. Furthermore, Connell's mother worked as a cleaner at the posh home of Marianne's mother who also has an older son, Alan Sheridan (Frank Blake) - Marianne's brother.

Normal People characters Connell and Marianne

What led me to watch the whole series over four evenings this week was the first episode, and I was keen to watch the climax, how the story ends. Connell was a popular boy, a hero among his mates. Not only was he getting ready for university life, but this very intelligent, bright youth was also brilliant on the school football pitch. Topless for a moment, he made sure that we saw his superb physique on the pitch after taking off his shirt after the game ended. He, with his teammates, played Gaelic Football against a rival school vying for the championship league cup. Having scored two or more winning goals, he was the hero of his team and of the whole school. Meanwhile, Marrianne was one of the many spectators, dressed in a drab grey uniform, sitting at the grandstand. 

In contrast to Connell, Marianne was unpopular at school. She was teased both by the boys and other girls alike for having a "stuck-up" attitude which included disrespect for the teacher's authority. Yet, like Connell, she too was very bright, something which earned the jealous wrath of her brother Alan.

This "Plain Jane" image of a timid, immature schoolgirl who feels worthless and neglected was not the first I have watched on TV. Around 34-31 years ago a family-viewing Australian soap, Neighbours, featured this new arrival who took on residence with her grandmother's after the death of either one or both parents. Feeling ashamed of herself, she kept herself to herself. It was not until after she left school for uni, and shed her uniform when her ravishing beauty and her extroversion came out, and it wasn't long before she had a boyfriend and enjoyed popularity with her peers.

The same happened with Marianne. When she started at Trinity College at Dublin, a 130-mile drive from her home town in Sligo County of the Republic of Ireland, her beauty shone and she gained instant popularity with her fellow students, and with Connell also attending the same college, a rather bumpy relationship developed between the two of them.

But it's Connell I really want to focus on here. Very bright, athletic and good looking, this guy knew how to socialise with his fellow students. He was a good contributor to his committee and he was very popular with female students as well as male. Literally, girls were queuing up to share his bed. Furthermore, even at a young age, he knew how to handle responsibility and look after himself in such a mature manner, so far away from home and without his Mum's interference. In addition to all this, he was studying for a degree in English, with the goal as a writer, whether as a novelist or journalist, I couldn't be too sure, but there was a hint of a novelist. Writing for a living was something I always had a wish for.

Jane Harris (Annie Jones) in Neighbours, 1984 onwards.

Connell's life as an undergraduate was a world away from my own experience in growing up. I was unpopular at school, in the slow learner's class, and feeling of little worth. And this feeling of worthlessness was enforced at home, at school and later, at work when having to push a broom across the workshop floor, I was teased and constantly reminded of my worthlessness. The psychological damage gotten from this lifelong experience, caused by having Asperger's Syndrome which was unknown to me at the time, wasn't fully eliminated until I married Alex decades later.

As such, had I watched this drama around 35-40 years ago, I would have turned off the TV the moment Marianne begged Connell to take off his clothes whilst both were still at school. But such an action would not be due to Christian convictions or piety! Instead, I would have turned off the telly through envy.

Like Jane in Neighbours and Marianne in Normal People, I too began to change for the better after leaving school. But it took a lot longer. During my first five years of employment in an all-male environment, its culture was centred upon the idea of picking up a girlfriend and enticing her to share his bed was the ultimate fulfilment of masculine virility. This attracts respect, even admiration. Thus, it came as no surprise that my supervisor often boasted of his army days when enticing women to share his bed was as easy as ABC, thus rubbing it in that having no girlfriend made me feel even more of a failure.

Indeed, as a result of this culture, I felt ashamed of being single. Whilst still living at home, the one thing I wanted to do, above all other things, was to marry and raise a family.

Had I watched such a drama as Normal People back then, would it have resulted in a very harmful mental outlook and shaky emotions? But here I would like how such a psychological state can be overcome, even to the point of immunity when surrounded by courting couples in a hostel dormitory. Even the title of the drama would have rubbed salt into the wound. Normal People? So that's how all undergraduates live and interact with others, isn't it? And that's normal? If so, doesn't that indicate that I'm not normal, but way below?

So what were the steps to free me from such psychological bondage?

First, faith in Jesus Christ as Saviour. This I believe to be the very foundation and first step towards freedom. This includes learning to pray, regular reading of the Bible and church attendance. I turned to Jesus Christ in December 1972, less than five years after leaving school. To develop a loving Father/son relationship with God is vital for any psychological healing.

Secondly, I found hobbies which delight me. They were several wholesome activities. I would go further to say that it was triune of interesting activities - Travel, Photography and Writing, and these three are interrelating. Various sports I have found enjoyable. And here I mean enjoyable. At school, I had to participate in team sports such as soccer and rugby, which was under compulsion. I have watched other boys receive corporal punishment for forgetting to bring their kit on the day. But Triathlon was one individual competitive sport I enjoyed participating in the years 1985-1992, which was purely voluntary.

Flying the nest was another brick in the building towards freedom from low self-esteem. Learning how to be responsible for making my own decisions and how to manage my own finances, and feeling free to go out for the evening without answering to Mum's question of Where have you been, is another liberating benefit, as well as constantly criticised by Dad over my faith in Christ. I moved into my bachelor's pad in May 1976, at a grand old age of 23 years. The saying of absence makes the heart grow fonder is indeed true here. By living alone, after a while, I began to feel a greater level of affection towards my parents.

This is a threefold building or bulwark against the feeling of worthlessness and low self-esteem. And that as a single person. I feel that participation in such interesting and wholesome activities is just as vital as faith in Christ itself. When I first believed, not only have I gained a friend in Jesus Christ, but I have also gained an enemy, an Adversary who will always remind me of my worthlessness and sins, making me feel that I'm no good for God. These bulwarks help guard against such lies.

Then there is my job. Going self-employed in 1980 was another brick in the wall against low self-esteem, as this involves responsibility which was once taken care of by my employer. But even then, my mistake of comparing my social standing with other Christians of my age bracket in the church, just about all graduates, has caused a relapse into a sense of worthlessness. Especially when I struggled with finances as one self-employed and therefore unable to travel. This was worse during the 1980s.

An "explosion" of travel occurred after receiving a vision from God on October 1992 to fly to Israel on the following year specifically to pray for Jerusalem. By August 1993, I found myself entering a small medieval building in the heart of the Old City of Jerusalem and climbed the stairs to the reception upstairs to ask whether a bed was available. Thus, the New Swedish Hostel on Souk David was going to mean a lot to me, especially afterwards in 1994, where I'm due to spend a whole month there as a resident.

New Swedish Hostel opened onto this street.

By then, since after eighteen years after flying the nest, I have grown immune to the want of marriage and I began to feel content for being single. This was justified, as a door has opened for worldwide travel. Combine this with my love of photography and later, writing, with each of the three well soaked in God's love and my faith in Him and an efficient bulwark against low self-esteem has been established within.

It was at the height of World Travel era in 1998 when Alex came along. 1998 was the year I flew out to New York for a short stop-gap break before planning to fly out to Cape Town in the year 2000 for another Round the World trip. But just when I was no longer looking for marriage, and I was content to remain a bachelor for life (as some of my friends still are to this day, most of them graduates) - instead, marriage found me, and Alex and I tied the knot in October 1999.

I am aware that any single person, man or woman, suffering loneliness may find this difficult to read and I apologise for that, but if If I'm likening the bulwark against low self-esteem as a building, then marriage is the final paintwork, or if likened to a cake, it's the cherry on the top.

Although I might get a wave of feeling worthless from time to time, my life's testimony, inspired by watching an adult play on television late in the evening after Alex had gone to bed is, I hope, a demonstration of God's power to everyone who believes. 

A VERY Big Hole-In-One!

Games was something dreaded rather than anticipated at school. Of course, when I first heard about Games as a first-year fresher approaching his twelfth birthday, I envisioned something akin to Snakes and Ladders, Ludo, Checkers, or Chess. Or heaven forbid, Monopoly, which exercises greed rather than mind or muscle. Or as school being an institution for learning - Trivia Pursuit (Genius, of course), or Scrabble. But no, the period bearing the title Games on the day's timetable had no bearing on the numerous board games I was becoming familiar with. Rather it was to do with football (Association) or rugby during the Autumn and Spring terms, and cricket or athletics during the Summer term.

"Monopoly, which exercises greed rather than mind or muscle." 

In typical sixties style, all this exposes our weaknesses in the boy's changing room. The school uniform consisting of black blazer and trousers, grey shirt and of course, a striped tie, nicely conceals a moment of forgetfulness when a boy fails to bring in his kit without a proper reason. So in full view of us all, he was forced to bend over to receive a designated number of whacks across his buttocks from the sole of a size twelve plimsoll. If he was a first year, then one single whack. Two for a second year pupil, three for a third year, and so on. I have watched quite a number of this kind of corporal punishment throughout my entire four-year stint at secondary education. Some boys took the punishment with such stoicism, that all they did was wince slightly as the plimsoll flew through the air with full might. Then after it was over, the boy returned to his bench without further ado. By contrast, I recall at least one boy who burst into tears and begged for a reprieve before the third stroke landed.

And to add to this sorrowful state of affairs, I recall witnessing a very unfortunate incident at the boy's changing room at the master's absence, when one rather chubby fellow burst into tears as a result of being a recipient of ferocious teasing by other pupils nearby. Ferocious teasing? It was more downright mental cruelty, capable of destroying any sense of self-worth, and, to my mind, opening the likelihood of suicide. Let's put it this way. As all across Italy, found in every home, the use of the bidet would have spared anyone from such dreadful embarrassment. The poor lad wept as his token of privacy was thrown across one end of the room to the other to the delirious laughter of his oppressors. All I could do was sit nearby and watch, refusing to be involved.

But I doubt if anyone had ever realised the humility I felt every time it was left for the two team captains to select their own players, whether in football or rugby. I was always left on the shelf, ready for the unfortunate captain whose lot fell to include me in his team. Let's face it, I was a letdown to the team and as a consequence, became a victim of verbal bullying, and close to being physical as well. As physical prowess was the yardstick for peer respect, the ideal, popular pupil always excelled in team sports. Even if he had never played that particular game before, just give him a ball and a set of rules, and he will always produce.

It is from these schooldays experience that I began to realise what it takes to be a good Englishman. If you are fortunate enough to be born with brains, then life can be a fruitcake, especially in long haul travel, property ownership, quality of lifestyle, smart dress at work, greater respect from society - and a better chance for church leadership. But fail at school? Then physical prowess, a good team player, even having a magnificent boxing skill, patriotic, military service and devotion to a life of manual or skilled labour may engender a degree of respect as a true English bulldog, but responsibilities such as church leadership of any level will always be far less likely. The issue was, I was neither. Certainly not physical prowess, hopeless in team sports, with only one or two I can refer as friends, and indeed, not much to show. Except for endurance. 

As such, I found long distance cycling a source of moral and physical strength. It was after I was freed from the wretched school tie and its culture, that I eventually began to bloom. But I believe that this was connected to something which was totally life-changing - to experience a rebirth through faith in Jesus Christ as Saviour less than five years after leaving school. Before this experience, I was not all there. Immediately after, however, I was all there, even if there will be some time before the fruits of such a transformation will become manifest.

But I did not have to wait long before such fruits began to show. Because reading and writing was something I did enjoy to a certain level, I found such wonderful benefit in reading the Bible. Over time, I discovered that reading the Bible has raised my level of intelligence which seems to uphold the view that the Bible was written under divine inspiration. And generated more faith. And also the enjoyment of physical endurance. Long distance cycling is one of them. Some trips were purely for tourism, which involved riding to faraway places and then finding a bed at a hotel or hostel. Others were fast burn-ups, usually done locally, covering up to thirty miles 48 km, starting and finishing at home, or even at church. Then to add a dip and a trot, I became involved in the Triathlon between the years of 1986-1992.

Although I was totally hopeless in team games at school, I was never averse to sport as a whole. It is so fortunate that it comes with such a wide spectrum, and there are beautiful colours within this spectrum which, although never advocated on the school curriculum, had highlighted what I was better at, the enjoyment gotten from these has given me such a morale boost, something so unfortunate in never having attained at school. But the fear in sporting failure having remained ever since. One good example of this was around 1980, give or take, when a group of us from my previous church went out for a picnic. A voluntary game of football was played among us menfolk. I joined in, and although I have made an effort to contribute, I was still fearful of any reprimand that would have come my way. But no reprimand was thrown at me, much to my surprise. Instead, I felt accepted, and even surprised one of the Elders for participating in the game, which he had already perceived as not being part of my natural character. It was this that got me wondering whether there is a big difference in culture between school and church.

Weeks turns into months and months into years. After job redundancy in 1979, I started up my own business. Even after then I have kept long-distance cycling active for a good number of years. I then travelled the world over the next few years, sleeping in backpacker's hostels far and wide. Eventually I married and became a father. More importantly, I settled at my present church fellowship in Ascot, my spiritual home, where an active men's social had taken off during the last couple of years. Such men's socials are an excellent idea, mainly to promote stronger fellowship between us who by nature are very self-reserved and often cliquey, within the church as well as outside the church. Starting some years earlier with men's breakfast on a Saturday morning every six weeks, the midweek evening Curry Club at a local Tandoori also started up, much to the annoyance of my dearly beloved. Because of this, I have nicknamed this The Smelly Breath Night!

With a new administrator, the men's social has expanded to include an evening's trip to a brewery, at another occasion a private barbecue and sauna. Being such a fan of the sauna, indeed I was the first to step inside. Then there was earlier this week, after responding to an invitation, for golf. I thought, golf? I tried playing golf with some friends a couple of decades earlier. I was so bad that even if I stood directly over the hole and dropped the ball, I would still miss. Really, the idea of golf between two teams of men did not exactly inspire anticipation, but nevertheless, I had accepted the email invitation as soon as it was posted. It was because I was all for promoting closer fellowship, edification, and godliness among ourselves, rather than any excitement over a golf course, that I made up my mind to participate.

The original booking was for twelve of us, with eleven of us showing up. I was very impressed with the venue when we arrived there. It wasn't long that I discovered that this amenity, known as the Surrey Top-Golf, had no resemblance to the traditional golf course. Instead, it was a large field which within were set several large circular shallow pits, some more than twenty metres across. The idea was to get as many "hole-in-one" strikes from a stationary position under a heated shelter. It was a facility built on the latest technology. Each player had a set of golf balls, each with a chip inside with the player's name programmed into it. When the ball fell into any one of these pits, a number of points was scored. The chip within each ball sent the message to the computer displaying our names and scorecard.

Top-Golf, Surrey

Despite such huge holes, I still managed to miss more than scored. And I was not the only one. Far from it! Because since it was already dark by the time we arrived, the floodlights illuminated thousands of golf balls glistening in the drizzle across the field, none having ended up where they should be. And throughout the evening I added more to the glistening white forest. But was I met with disapproval from any in the team? Far from it. Rather, when one of our members realised that I was holding the club the wrong way, he gently offered to show me how the stick should be held. After this, my scoring rate dramatically improved. But after two games which between them took longer than we anticipated, I still came bottom, on an equal level with another player. But no feeling of rejection, no rebuttal, no let down. Instead we all had great fun. 

And that is what I believe the Kingdom of God is about. Love, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. Any competition taken with a sense of lightheartedness, and those who are weak, as I was, to be supported and if necessary, redirected. I could not think of anything more dynamically opposite from our school culture half a century earlier. That was why I detailed the embarrassing episode with the poor chubby pupil at the gym changing room. Such dreadful action by his contemporaries can only lead to sorrow and death. And the memory of such an episode could remain throughout life, with any thoughts on self-worth permanently damaged, unless helped along over the years by his naturally charismatic temperament. In addition, the constant threat of corporal punishment hanging over our heads has made weaker team players such as myself more prone to dislike team sports. This, along with bullying for letting the side down, really, without Christ in my life to strengthen me, I would have been left with two choices. One was to sink into despair to the point of developing agoraphobia, maybe even feeling suicidal. The other choice was the one I had taken, to try and make good of a bad situation.

One example was not long before leaving school in 1968. It was a games lesson out in the field and we were playing football. Hardly the one ever to kick the ball, on this occasion a stray kick from another player brought the ball to where I was standing. So what was the object of football? To score goals, wasn't it? So after a little hesitation, I gave the ball a hard kick towards the goal. It went in. For the first time ever I have scored for our team. I felt ten feet tall and very ecstatic for the rest of the day. Not long after, I made another effort to score at an indoor five-a-side game. Unfortunately, my shot was this time well caught by the goalkeeper. Such opportunities had never occurred again. But the report I took home to my parents read this, as I have never forgotten it:

Frank has made some great efforts this term: Standard below average.

And that was written by our plimsoll-wielding P.E. master, who seemed to be lately pleased with me. Perhaps he'll make an English bulldog out of me yet. Then maybe not. Standard below average. That is on physical education. It would take nothing short of a miracle to change that. And I believe that faith in Christ did just that. For I did have a potential ability which was not manifest at school - long distance and fast cycling which later evolved into Triathlon competition, with good results.

For the Kingdom of God is not about meat and drink (nor sporting excellence) but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.

Romans 14:17.

That was how our group at Top-Golf behaved last week. Peaceful, joyful, Life building, edifying, supporting. It was, in a sense, a good taste of Heaven. And furthermore, such would kill off any concept that church life is about living hermetically like monks, unrealistically cut off totally from the world. Church life is nothing like that. Neither should believers be perceived as "holier than thou" with a self-righteous, judgemental attitude towards those who disagree with them. Unfortunately, I know several of them who are just like that, even from another church. Neither should true Christians be so self-reserved and unemotional to the point of being cold of heart. This kind of attitude may be characteristically English, but it has no part in the Kingdom of God. It is also unfortunate that I know quite a number of men, especially of my age, who live out such attitude, not all in our church though.

"Perhaps he'll make an English bulldog out of me yet."

These are fellows I knew as far back as 1978. One or two were excellent football players, and actually played weekly in a team representing their church at a local league. I was involved with this club myself, but not as a football player.

These men, along with their wives and children are all well educated, professional men now reaching retirement age. But there will always be times when I wish they would dump both their religion and their patriotic pride and allow the love of Christ through the Holy Spirit shine out freely from their hearts, especially towards people who are different to them. Then they would score a real hole-in-one.

Wearing A Tie In Heaven - Really?

And so after a vigorous two-hour workout in the gym, I was looking forward to relaxing at home to ease my legs. They were aching and as stiff as an ironing board with an oversupply of lactate in the muscle fibres. I browse the current news on the Internet. Then I thought, Oh no, not again. What is it all about this time? It was a report about a teenage schoolgirl in the North of England, whose tie was worn slightly out of kilter. A passing teacher reminded her of this, and she immediately corrected the mistake. That, with an apology from the student, should have concluded everything and allowed to attend class as normal alongside everyone else.

But no. Instead she was ordered to go to the Consequence Room, an area of isolation to sit in as punishment. Funny that. In my day, back in the mid-sixties, if a student - or pupil as we were known back then - was told to straighten his tie, he would have made the adjustment immediately without further ado, knowing full well that any resistance to authority would have led to the Headmaster's office for a caning. Then that was it. Back to the classroom. The Consequence Room was totally unheard of. But in this case, the teenager, who has Asperger's Syndrome, was unaware of her attire, and when it was brought to her attention, her condition immediately compelled her to sort the matter out. She could not understand why further punishment was required, and she protested against the order to go into isolation. As a result, the school sent her home for the day, forcing her to miss out on her education.

It is my opinion that female pupils at school should be exempt from wearing a tie as part of the uniform. To me it looks ugly, a form of masculinisation, especially when the tie is very short, the knot very large, and the top button left undone. Very untidy, and not only that, but also a sign of rebellion. But all this is only my own opinion. You may strongly disagree. But apparently, many other schools see the girl's uniform in the same way that I see it, and compulsory V-neck collared blouses are instead worn. It looks much more smart and tidier. Furthermore, with a possible exception of the Forces, no grown woman wears a tie, ether on or off duty. Indeed, for a female adolescent having to wear a tie at school is a typical example of British cultural idiosyncrasy.

A scene from the BBC soap, Waterloo Road.

But this does not deter the majority of comments in the long forum which trails the article. These comments were aimed at the schoolgirl's rebellion against school rules, condemning her and serving her right. Typical comments included: Her Asperger's has nothing to do with it. She was a wilful rebel and deserves to be sent home. Good Heavens! Has anyone read the article properly? It was emphasised that the student corrected her attire immediately afterwards, a natural reaction of an Asperger's sufferer when confronted with such a situation. Oh well, I guess there will always be an England, eccentric as it might be. The nation's obsession with the necktie has not faded despite its decline among many male professionals. I recall the Daily Mail right-wing national newspaper heavily criticising the BBC for allowing foreign and home correspondents to deliver their reports dressed without a tie. Clive Myrie, for one, was heavily criticised for this, but others such as Mark Lowen and Will Gompertz readily deliver their reports tieless. Then there was this massive hoo-ha over Robert Peston's refusal to wear a tie while on air, which stirred another long forum of controversy following the article. By contrast, among female correspondents, a tie is as rare as an oasis in the Sahara Desert, but not a single whimper had ever sounded. Something which makes me wonder how an average school girl feels about compulsory wearing of a tie.

Why such controversy? I know, it's all to do with discipline. In many ways, it is well known that a school with a strict uniform policy delivers graduates with a higher educational level than the more liberal school, and with a greater percentage going on to university. Statistics constantly bear this out. But I do wonder whether the willingness to shed the tie before the commencement of university, for example, is due to a level of physical discomfort caused by the restriction, or a sudden sense of liberation until the job interview, or even whether it's a sign of rebellion against stuffiness - the "stuck-up" image, or a combination of two of the three, or of all three. But one thing seems guaranteed: Going about tieless creates controversy, stirring feelings. 

And I can see a stark similarity between the controversy over going about tieless, and that of salvation by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. Both are very controversial. Especially over whether one is saved by pure unadulterated grace, or whether one has to play a role in his salvation. I for one, believe in pure unadulterated grace. That means that by dying on a cross, he took all my sins - past, present, and future - upon himself, reconciling me to God forever. That means, as a believer, I can enter his eternal rest, free from the Law of Moses, and therefore irrespective of how I think, feel, and act, as the word unadulterated simply means without any human effort or contribution. Therefore Once Saved Always Saved. And that is through the grace of God through Jesus Christ, who offered himself as the one sacrifice - once and for all time - so that the one sanctified is forever made perfect (Hebrews 10:14).

Religious people don't like this. They don't like it at all. In the dawn of history, Cain murdered Abel because he was the recipient of God's grace, while his older brother was religious. Later, the religious Pharisees threatened to put Lazarus to death for being another recipient of God's grace. Also the man born blind. He received his sight without working for it, and the Pharisees threw him out of the synagogue. But most intense, other than to Jesus Christ, must have been the stoning of Stephen. The Sanhedrin must have got so hot under the collar (pun intended) that they literally yelled and gnashed their teeth. And all this happened after Stephen tells of his vision of the risen Jesus standing up in his Father's presence to receive him at the point of death.

I believe that the Inquisition - Rome's effort to eradicate "heretics" for the preservation of the Catholic faith by torturing on racks to extract a confession - was another works versus grace episode, and what a bloody episode that was! On October 16th 1555, two Bishops: Nicholas Ridley and Hugh Latimer, were burnt alive outside Balliol College in Oxford as another case of works versus grace. Then to this day, works versus grace continues relentlessly. So what do I mean by "works"? It is the effort to keep the Law, to keep God satisfied and to keep his wrath or his disapproval in check. Because God is holy, and by nature we are not holy, it is human nature to try and please God one way or another. This natural human tendency to try and please God in our own strength is called the flesh. As Paul wrote, in our flesh we cannot please God (Romans 8:8 KJV) - so it's not worth trying.

Martyr's Memorial, Oxford.

It is so unfortunate that there are many who can be considered true believers who are prone to be controlled by the flesh rather than by the Holy Spirit, even if they declare that they are Spirit controlled. Here I am not talking about "sinning wilfully" or doing bad things. Rather, I'm talking about those who believe that salvation can be lost through abandoning the faith or excess sinning. Often known as Arminians, because it was originally taught by Jacobus Arminius towards the end of the 16th Century, these Christians feel the need of constant good works in their lives to keep the disapproval of God at bay. So they turn to Christ for forgiveness of their past sins, then turn to the Law to remain holy. The snag with that it doesn't work. For example, prayer is often begins by confession - to "clear the air" in case God has something against him and his prayers go unanswered. I have been through many years with this train of thinking, stemmed from my upbringing as a Roman Catholic. Throughout life, if my experience has anything to go by, God is perceived as constantly checking over my performance, and always finding something amiss. Nothing could be further from the truth. If all this is true, then Christ's death on the cross has failed to atone completely - a reasoning upheld by the Catholic Church.

Therefore it is not too surprising to have found Arminian Christians to be more judgemental of other believers, and tending to be more in want of patience against those who might differ. If they struggle to measure up to what the Law demands, it would be natural to see others failing to keep the Law perfectly as well, and therefore prone to judge. In my fellowship, I am under constant scrutiny, judgement, and even hatred by another member of our church. Not surprisingly, he is as Arminian as he can get.

This is where such controversies have in common. Whether a school girl must wear a tie to keep the rules of her school, or for a Christian to keep the Law to avoid divine punishment, the two are basically the same - to keep the rules or risk punishment. I have reason to believe that the majority of boys do not like wearing ties. Just walk through the High Street of any town on a Saturday, or stroll through a theme park in the Summer. You'll be hard pressed to find any young person, or even older people, of both genders wearing a tie. But at school they wear ties because it's part of their uniform and to wear uniform is the rules. Likewise, Christian believers try to keep the Law instead of resting in his grace because to obey the Law perfectly is the rules. And breaching of these rules brings judgement - whether for not wearing a tie at school, or that the tie isn't straight, or whether a Christian angrily shouts "F**k off" in church. Tut! Tut! A forum of controversial commenting to follow. 

Finally, I need to say to any of you Arminian readers: I'm not here to get at you. Rather, I wish you to see the freedom Christ has bought for you, and enjoy your eternal rest in him. Recently I have lost a small number of followers. At first I thought it was due to calling the English eccentric. There may be some truth in this. But more likely, I think they were Arminians feeling "got at". Rather the opposite. Jesus Christ has set you free, nailing the Law to the cross. So enjoy the eternal security he bought with a very high price. 

Tender Mercy and Goodness of God - a Testimony

William Shakespeare is famed for his writings of theatre plays, for example, Macbeth, The Merchant of Venice and many others. This is a fact which is accepted by the vast majority of the population. But on one BBC television programme, The One Show, a general discussion forum where diverse topics are covered in every region of the UK, the presenters focused on the opinion of several academics who deny that Shakespeare was the writer of these plays. They even attempted the use archaeology within the writer's home town of Stratford-Upon-Avon to add proof that their opinions were correct.

William Shakespeare

Personally, I didn't buy any of those academic opinions. The reason is rather straightforward. William's father, John Shakespeare, was a glove maker. In other words, what we would call a factory worker today, working class, blue-collar. How could his son have developed such a literacy talent?

According to these academics, he couldn't have done. Plays such as Macbeth, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Winters Tale and Romeo and Juliet were, to them, all written by some other person whose parents were a lot more cleverer. And a few very unconvincing bits of relics were found in the archaeological pits to substantiate the opinion of the skeptical academics.

On a somewhat different story but based on the same principle, according to a Daily Mail newspaper report, two female contestants on the University Challenge BBC2 quiz were mocked and severely criticized by mostly male viewers using the Facebook page on the Internet. Having not watched the programme myself, I cannot tell whether the two academic women were on the same team or whether they were even on the same programme. But that is not the point. Rather the point being that they were both harassed on the Internet for being snobby, intelligent and too full of self-confidence, according to their critics. Reflections of inferior complex or lack of self-esteem?

But to be fair, the Reader's Comments which appeared under the main article mostly defended the harassed females. Only a small minority upheld the critic's messages posted online, and they were red-arrowed with disapproval.

And then, looking back, I also recall the murder of Stephen Lawrence one evening at a South London suburb. Lawrence was black, and going by his images, he had that look of intelligence and promising of a good education. The images proved correct. He was studying to be an architect. Then, while waiting for a bus at a stop on the evening of 22nd April 1993, five white English men first threw verbal abuse, then they crossed the road to stab him to death. A clearly racist murder. Personally, I'm not fully convinced that colour alone was the one and only motive. Rather, the victim oozed high intelligence, and the five white men having sensed this all felt their self confidence were under threat. Really, there was no real difference between this case and those of the two females on University Challenge where motives were concerned, the only difference was that one case led to a serious crime, the other two were not considered to be criminal victims.

My own belief that the secondary reason for the Stephen Lawrence murder might have been motivated by a sense of inferior complex, seem to be endorsed by the case of one of the killers, Gary Dobson, who was jailed for five years in July 2010 for drug dealing. The other four, I think, were either jobless or held manual occupations, a good indication of low level of education or low academic abilities. So the very thought of a well educated black man was anathema to them.

But where is the connection between this information and the title of this article? Well, I hope to demonstrate how good and merciful God has been to me over the years, despite the prejudices I had to go through, and to show that what God has done for me he can do for you, if only you will diligently search and ask for his wisdom.

The pinnacle of God's mercy: The Crucifixion

If you read my Blogger profile, you will see that I don't give my nature of occupation. That is because I am a Domestic Window Cleaner, who goes about dressed in casuals, as my profile pic indicates, and not of an elderly gentleman dressed in a suit, wears glasses and sport thinning hair! Among those who know me well, they may think, So what? You love writing, keep up the good work. And yes, I have actually received such encouragement! This shows the value of true friendship.

But others may think: A window Cleaner? How can such a person know anything, let alone writing these articles? Unreasonable? Not what I know of.

And my answer: I allowed the Lord Jesus Christ to work in my life.

Here I begin by stating that at school I received the annual report which stated, Frank tries hard; Standard below average. This was an indication that my poor performance at the classroom desk was not my fault, therefore the report I handed personally to my parents did not merit any form of punishment.

And that applied to every subject, including the subject of General Science, with which at the end of the 2nd academic year, I've literally received 100/100 marks on the exam papers and became the talk of the school.

But I remained in the slowest learning class, in which I was constantly teased by one annoying pupil who was one grade above me: Who is in the dunce's class for science?

After leaving school in 1968 with no qualifications to show, my working life has always been manual. Nothing wrong with that in itself, but I feel that it's a crying shame that here in England, the general mentality is that if one had failed at school, nobody expects or even desires for him to work himself upwards. A manual worker not only stays a manual worker (again, nothing wrong in that) but any thought of self-improvement of his mental capabilities seem to be frowned upon. Could this be because it poses a threat?

Here are a couple of classic examples. The first example being back in 1992, the elders of Ascot Baptist Church, where I attend to this day, gave me an opportunity to give a talk on what Heaven might be like, based on the description found in Revelation chapters 21 and 22. Now at the front row sat Keith, a "devout Englishman" who always condescended on my Italian origins. His sense of national superiority was not unique. I have came across this sort of thing many, many times - among my clientele and fellow church members alike.

After the talk was over and as such, the service as well, Keith went around literally bragging that he had not heard a single thing I was saying at the front. Instead, he said he was deliberately diverting his thoughts away by indulging in some other subject, most likely in his case, football and particularly England's hopes in the next World Cup contest.

The second example took place in 1997 and it was in a very much the same environment, giving a talk about my travels, and bringing up the idea on why in California in particular, there seem to be an obsession with alien life from other planets. Toys, ornaments and inflatable models and balloons of these life forms were on sale just at about every second shop along the street. I then theorised that there might be a connection between this obsession with alien life forms and end-times Biblical prophecy. The issue here was not whether I was right in this matter or not, but rather one man in the congregation, also with the name Frank, suddenly standing up and declared aloud for all to hear, that he too had seen these model life forms on sale where he was, and my description of them was spot on. He then declared that my possible interpretation was worth thinking about.

Afterwards, I asked him why he stood up and made such a public announcement.
He replied that during the talk, he overheard a couple of people sitting behind him mutter words to the effect,
What does he know about the Bible or prophecy? He's just a window cleaner!

And oh yes, I have just remembered another incident which took place in 1989, which I think is worth recording here. It concerned something which occurred at Bracknell Baptist Church. What the incident itself was, I can't recall, but one of the elders asked me to write a report on it, because of my involvement.

When I presented my written work to him, he plainly asked me who wrote it. It took some convincing that I was the author. Meaning: The standard of the written document was above my standing for me to be the author.

God's mercy. In 1 Corinthians 1:18-31 Paul the Apostle specifically states that God chooses the foolish in this world to confound the wise. On similar lines, James instructs not to pay higher honour to the rich man on the expense of the poor man dressed in rags (James 2).

I became a true believer early in 1973. I am convinced that there has been a change in my I.Q. at this turning point in my life. I was immediately interested in the Bible and what it had to say on everything.

I went to a Christian bookshop next to St. Paul's Cathedral in London to stock up books which will help me understand the Bible better. But in the Bible itself, particularly in the Old Testament, I noticed that God was referring to Jerusalem more than any other city in the ancient world. I also noticed that Jerusalem was the place Jesus Christ was crucified, then he rose again near the city, and the first Church began in Jerusalem. I also noticed that this same city played a major role in future prophecy, namely, that Christ is to reign from there in the future.

So in 1976 I decided to visit the place for myself, to see it first hand. I went as a sole backpacker. The details are recorded in one of my former blogs, Jerusalem, City of Peace which was published here on Sunday 13th February, 2011.

Visiting Israel in 1976 was a wonderful experience which added strength to my faith. Then in October 1992, a friend and I had a massive row one weekday morning while I was at his home. The worst thing about it was that I knew that I was in the wrong. So I started window cleaning at a nearby street feeling very dejected. It was at this low point when I had what could be called a vision. I was to go to Jerusalem to pray for the city.

But was this from God? First, the vision came suddenly, quite unexpectingly. Then up to this time I always made enough to live on reasonably well, but I was never able to save up for a proper holiday. From that very week onwards, I found myself saving up quite steadily, allowing me the ability to pay for the entire holiday plus all the other expenses without any difficulty. Then I took off from Gatwick Airport early August, 1993.

What I found amazing was that it should have been my friend who should have received the vision, not me. He was in the right, I was in the wrong. But while I was in Jerusalem, I felt God speaking to me about why the Islamic Dome of the Rock stood where the Temple once was. Alongside this, I watched the crowd of Jewish people celebrate the start of their Sabbath. It was such a thrilling experience. I just felt the pulsating presence of God in the enclosure, which fronts the Western Wall. These Jews were God's ancient people. Their presence in Jerusalem showed me how faithful God was to his people. And if God was so faithful to the Jews, how much more will he be to us? Also I found myself sharing my faith in Jesus at the hostel I was staying at, after being asked by one backpacker why I was in Israel. By the time I had finished talking, I found myself the centre of attention among the other backpackers.

Damascus Gate, Jerusalem

Reading the Bible and books to help me understand the Bible also not only helped in my faith, but by reading both books and the newspaper, I slowly learned how other authors composed their articles, so when it comes to writing myself, I can use some of their techniques. But on top of this, I felt that God himself was teaching things direct to me without human intercession. That means I had answers in my thoughts concerning things I was asking especially in the book of the prophet Daniel, which contains visions the prophet had about the bigger picture of God's revelation to mankind.

This was because for a long time I had a desire to know what is the bigger picture was about. In other words, how did it all begin, why we are here, how would it all end, and why will it end in the way the Bible says. And why does Jerusalem play such a large role, and my visits to this city made such a massive impact on my life, especially on the spiritual.

But on the day-to-day practical side, when things are up, I can thank and praise God for. But when thing become trying, God is there I can trust, and run to. I have suffered some trying moments in my life, and a close friend of mine, who already knew much of what I went through, exclaimed,
I am surprised you have not committed suicide! I would have done!

He got distracted before I could explain that I know of the sovereignity of God in my life and with a degree of peace in my heart, I can ride over all things. God is not only my Saviour, he is my Rock, my Strength and Shelter.
Although this has not happen so far in my life, but it could: Suppose I was to lose everything I had, would I still trust in him? Would I still be thanking him for eternal life and for all the goodness, I have received from him? I hope I will be able, then again, it would not be of my own effort, but the infilling of the Holy Spirit in my life.

And this is the key to everything. I'm writing here to all true believers in Christ who is reading this. Be filled with the Holy Spirit and let the love of Christ flow in you richly.
May God bless you richly.

The Gym and Sauna - An Ancient Roman Resurrected

When I was at secondary school between 1964-1968, of all lessons on the curriculum, the one which always gave me the jitters was that dreadful 35 minute P.E. period. In the early days, that is in my first year in particular, it appeared twice a week, on the second period before the morning break. Therefore the first period, which was labeled "Maths" received scant attention. In addition to the two P.E. lessons was the double period Games, played on the field outside once a week. Here it was assumed that I was born with the innate knowledge on how to play football and rugby without the need to be taught or understand the rules. After all, at primary school in London we never kicked a football, let alone handle an oval one. Little wonder I was always the last boy standing on the shelf after the team captains had selected their players.
But it was the gym that scared me. The wooden floorboards were raised a little from the ground, and with an air space underneath, this created a thunder effect whenever we ran across it. The acoustics were further embellished by the deep, almost growling voice of the P.E. master, an ex serviceman who kept a size 11 plimsoll in his office, adjoining the boys changing room. Whenever a pupil forgot his kit, he was made to bend over, in front of all the rest of us, to have the sole of the footwear slam across his buttocks.
So I left school with a very negative feeling about the gym, which made me even more glad to throw away the school uniform (although now I wish I had kept it as memorabilia).
It was five years later as a fledgling backpacker that I stood among i scavi of Pompeii, an ancient Roman settlement which was wiped out by the eruption of Vesuvio in AD 79. One of the sites I stood at was the Palaestra an exercise yard complete with Natatio or outdoor swimming pool.

                                                     Above: The Palaestra at Pompeii
                                                     Below:  The Natatio

Palaestra was a Latin term used in the Roman language. The Greek name for the same exercise yard was Gymnasium. From the Greeks we use the word Gym in our English language today.
There seemed to be an irreconcilable difference between the Roman Palaestra and the school gym. Especially when socialisation also took place there. Many of the ancient exercise yards were part of the bathing complexes, within one can exercise, swim then sit inside a Calidarium, or hot, steamy sweating room, then plunge into the cold water of the Frigidarium. Very much like the sauna today. It was not only a leisure centre to promote health and well-being but a social hub where even business transactions were discussed and finalised.
Here was the contrast between what the gym was originally intended and the 1960s school version. In the latter what I went through as a schoolboy was actually a military drill. It brought fear and a general dislike to team sports. It had also made me averse to serving the Country in the military. The P.E. master's attempt to transform me into a young British bulldog was a complete failure.
I was introduced to the sauna for the first time in 1976 by a work colleague, three years after that trip to Italy. Perhaps as a full-blood Italian, the sauna brought out the long-hidden Roman ancestry out of me. I just loved it. Even the ancient Romans had the dry sweating room, the Laconicum. Sitting in the sauna has identified myself with my own ancestors.
 Over the years I began to develop a weight problem. When it got serious enough to raise concern, the nurse who I came to consult, recommended visiting the gym as part of the weight-loss program, along with a change of eating habits.
The gym at Coral Reef Water World, very close to where I live, was once called Sunny Gyms, something more likely found at the lobby of a Caribbean hotel, and I often wondered what my old P.E. master would have made of it.  The very title emphasised the difference between it and my old school gym.
Having been refurbished in recent years, The Health Studio, as it's now called, is where I call once or twice a week, if I can get the extra time. The machine I use is the elliptical cross trainer.

                                                        Above: Coral Reef Health Studio
                                      Below: Rear drive elliptical, the same at the Health Studio

On the elliptical I can complete a cardio workout over a course of fifty minutes, burning off as much as 1,120 calories, which is roughly half a full day's calorie intake. To make the workout less tedious, I have the wall-fixed television tuned into Radio Magic, a virtual non-stop music playing channel which specialises in music from the 70s to the 90s, which is ideal for my generation.
After the gym session, it's the steam room, the modern Calidarium. After a fifteen minute sitting, its the cold plunge pool, or Frigidarium. Then a full session at the Laconicum, or sauna. It is here, in the sauna suite at Coral Reef that I have met other bathers and made friends, even visiting each other's homes, dining and going out running together, and yes, talking business matters.

It's thanks to the gym and sauna facilities right up my doorstep that this ancient Roman has been fully resurrected to enjoy the greater pleasures along with superior hygene in the 21st Century.