The Greatest Gift of All

After the England football squad had returned to the UK earlier last week, I could not help but feel sorry for Roy Hodgson's team, after reading a long forum column of angry criticism aimed at the failed team players, following an online newspaper article. To be sent home early from the tournament, with still the knockout rounds to come, must have resulted in a sense of utter despair. What a sorrowful sight as the plane touched down at Luton Airport with not a single fan to welcome them in. As one commentator sarcastedly remarked: How would the star striker, Wayne Rooney, feel about putting out the dusbin, helping out with the housework, and washing up the dishes while the television spews out massive crowd applause from Brazil as one goal after another is scored?

As he stands at the kitchen sink, he could have well be visualising himself running full pace towards the opposing goal, when a teammate passes the ball to him. Being in the right position, he shoots, and as he watches the ball defy the goalkeeper as it flies into the net, half of the entire stadium arises with a thundering, almost earth-shaking cheer, amplified by the curvaceous structure of the building itself, as several thousand red and white clad spectators rise to their feet. There is only a few minutes left as the ball is fought over by the opposing team players. But they don't go very far, because the referee gives that one long, final blow of the whistle. The World Cup trophy will be heading with them to England. The entire audience of English fans stand on their feet to scream out their applause and praise, and the striker is aware that crowds of multiple thousands will await them as their plane lands back home, and then to be driven very slowly through the packed streets of London in an open top double deck bus. Then soon afterwards, team manager Roy Hodgson will receive a Knighthood from the Queen.

His dream fade into crushing reality as the green grass of the football pitch metamorphose into the gently rocking soap suds in the kitchen sink, as he finishes his final dish. The utter despair he must have felt, being out of the Cup so early, and becoming a pariah of the nation as he is accused of being grossly overpaid, spoilt, lazy, satisfied, and lacking passion for his country. And so the sarcastic comments flows in as the three lions becomes the three kittens, according to one other writer.

But there is still hope for Britain at the Wimbledon Tennis Championships, even if the star player is not English, but Scottish. Andrew Murray had won the British single men's grand slam just the previous year in 2013, after more than seventy years without a British win since Fred Perry. Here is one man who can hold up the Union Jack, if not the Cross of St. George, that would give Britain a sporting saviour.

Andrew Murray

But even as I was aware of Murray's victory at Wimbledon, following a gold medal in the 2012 London Olympics, somehow I did not feel the national adulation oozing for his victories as I would have felt if England had won the Cup. This had made me wonder whether Murray's predecessor, Englishman Tim Henman, would have received far greater glory had he won Wimbledon.

So at this time of writing, life beats on with the nation now focused on this South West London suburb. But if he wins - great; if not - well there is always next year. Meanwhile, life carries on, wondering what the real purpose of us mankind being here. From the news bulletin spewing from the TV set, Muslims in the Middle East clutch at each other's throats - Sunni against Shiite - fighting over territory, citizens by the thousands made homeless, and many more desperately trying to cross the Mediterranean in overcrowded, rickety boats which certainly aren't seaworthy, with many lives lost to the sea. Meanwhile, a large proportion of our national population seems to be deluded with our Government ministers, the majority from exclusive public schools, and having never done a day's manual work, all being fully committed to the welfare of big business over those of lower income families. I read newspaper columnists favouring the privatisation of the National Health Service, with an introduction of fees for just visiting the G.P. - at present, a free service made available for everyone to receive treatment regardless of income, funded by a national purse into which every earner contributes as taxes.

Such columnists often make my blood boil. These are well educated men and women who attended grammar schools as a result of selection, having passed the primary eleven-plus exams as children. Groomed never to get their hands dirty, they graduate at university with a degree, the academic passport to journalism, where a right wing newspaper makes a suitable forum for them to spout their views. For them, a £10 fee to visit a doctor is hardly a dent in their high income - it's quite a different matter for a single or low-earning parent who has a son or daughter who was born with an infirmity. Yet many of their readers, mostly high income earners, applaud these opinionated journalists as the answer to all the nation's problems. So the strategy in Parliament is to reduce welfare for those who are truly hard up, unable to find a job, or suffer incapacity - believed by the better-off that this is a good thing for the Economy - only to find that the cross-party Members of Parliament themselves have their snouts in the trough in claiming expenses funded by the taxpayer. Mortgage scandals seems to be the main bane, but their expense claim can cover anything. In short, denying benefit to the genuine needy while lavishing in very much the same kind of benefit themselves.

Now with a fresh scandal of one M.P. caught embroiled in paedophilia, a Tory one at that. All this makes me wonder - wow! What is it with mankind? Are we the endless product of a long, long process of evolution? And as one American psychiatrist, Arthur Koestler had suggested: somewhere in the final explosive stages of our evolution as Homo Sapiens, something went seriously wrong. Really, are we just primates, as biologists insist? Only trading our thick body hair for larger brains and greater intelligence? On the other hand, Dr. B. F. Skinner, another American psychiatrist in the 1960s, believed that man's behaviour had always been modelled on the surrounding environment. So the theory of Darwinism marches on, believed on by almost all academics and a large proportion of the public in general. Ah! that's why such a high level of aggression, competitiveness, and even national and racial superiority. After all, the further advanced in evolution, the higher up the social ladder towards the goal of becoming god.

This quest in our attempt in becoming god was recognised by a third American psychiatrist who lived and worked in the same period, Dr. Karl Menninger. He was the one who accused many church leaders at the time of lacking backbone when confronting their congregation with the reality of sin. Yet there is that rustling sound from the Bible like leaves rustling in the wind. At the dawn of history we read about how Eve was tempted by the serpent when he suggested taking a fruit from a particular tree, in order for her husband and herself to have their eyes opened, and to become gods, knowing good and evil. (Genesis 3:5, KJV.) This statement by itself seem to rebuke evolution. Rather, not only does this imply Divine Creation, but it is much closer to the desires and ambitions to the natural human heart. Let's face it, within every single one of us lies the desire to become a god, whatever form it takes.

But what wonderful good news I was reminded with when I read the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John. Here Jesus offered eternal life to all those who would simply believe. Eternal life with Christ for all believers! What a wonderful free gift of God this is. Jesus says that all who spiritually eat of his flesh and drink his blood has eternal life. And what I find so exciting is that I as a believer do not make a conscious effort to eat of his flesh and drink his blood in order to "stay saved" or attempt to get saved. Rather I eat of his flesh and drink of his blood as a result of already having received salvation. Another verse I found so encouraging is found in Luke 11:13, which reads:

If ye, being evil, know how to give good things unto your children: how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?

It is remarkably easy! Eternal life and the dwelling of the Holy Spirit - the third Person of the Trinity - available by the asking. More so, it is God's desire that all men everywhere repent, that is a change of mind to receive the salvation God offers. And all for free, as Jesus Christ had already paid the price for this great salvation by suffering and dying on a cross to atone for all our sins. Then receiving the Holy Spirit by the asking. It is so wonderful, a glorious demonstration of God's love for all mankind.

No, England does not need the World Cup, because in less than four years later, the trophy would have to be handed back to FIFA to be competed for all over again. But what this country needs, along with all the other nations of the world, is to renounce the brain-snatching lie of Darwinian evolution, and be willing and ready to receive a massive outpouring of the Holy Spirit through faith in Christ.

Now we have something, or rather someone, to really live for.

  

Celebrities...

Last Sunday, after a long wait of 77 years, history was made in Wimbledon when Scotsman Andy Murray won the grand slam against Serbian Novak Djokovic at the All England Tennis Club. He was the first male Briton to have won the tournament since Fred Perry in 1936, when he defeated German Gottfried von Cramm, whom he also won against on the previous year in the Wimbledon men's single finals, after defeating Australian Jack Crawford at the same venue in 1934. So although Murray brought the long wait for a British finalist to win to an end, he still have to win two more tournaments at Wimbledon to equal Fred Perry.

But unlike Perry, who was generally disliked by the club officials for having come from a working class background, Murray was greeted by the besotted Etonian Prime Minister David Cameron, along with Liberal Democrat leader and Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg, and opposition leader of the Labour Party Ed Milliband. Cameron even suggested a Knighthood for Murray, who in turn had far better sense to withdraw from such a proposition, with the greater percentage of the public agreeing.

Murray with the Wimbledon 2013 trophy

Along with his trophy, Murray also received a pay cheque of £1,600,000 as well as admiration from the nation - as a Briton, not an Englishman, as he was born in Dunblane, up north in Scotland and grew up there. Therefore I could not help but feel a notable lack of local public celebration for someone who had put Britain on the winning map after such a long wait. Now, had the winning finalist been his predecessor Tim Henman, a true blue Englishman and a Tory to wit, the whole nation would have had a forest of St George flags flying from just about every house and car aerial along with street bunting. Instead, life carried on, the world continues as it always does - no street parties, no bunting, just a day of front page newspaper coverage and a series of Facebook postings from a fan or two.

Murray was one of the fortunate ones. He happened to excel in a particular sport and now having received worldwide fame. A celebrity, even the chief Government minister fawned over enough to make a hasty decision to have him awarded a Knighthood. This takes me back to 1969 when three American astronauts: Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins, travelled 250,000 miles to the moon on the Apollo 11 and two of the three setting foot on the surface of the moon on July 20th for the very first time in human history. Instantly, all three became worldwide celebrities.

I recall the tremendous public applause as we watched the whole episode on monochrome television. I was sixteen at the time and it was more than a year after leaving school. As the three faced the TV cameras shortly after splashdown, I felt a wave of envy take hold of me. At my job, all I was doing was dogsbody work at a family-owned furniture-making factory under a war-veteran supervisor who had a hangup about not making any impact or a name for himself in the world. Fame and public recognition had totally eluded him. He hated his position of being "of the masses" or simply "rank and file" - both terms depicting ordinary unimportant people. He made sure that I fully understood that I was in no better position than he was. When I suggested that I was special, he rebuked me, followed by a stream of constant teasing. Unfortunately for him, he died around 1975 after being hit by a car, and took his grudge with him to the grave.

But his power over me not only stuck, but in the years to come I was able to see that the inward desire for fame and recognition is universal. Who would not want to appear on television, or better still, on the big screen or at a theatre stage? Alternatively, one can become an author and write books, or to be a newspaper journalist or news reporter on TV. Although a few authors with little or no academic qualifications do get their work published first time, this is rare. Rather, it is fiendishly difficult to get an edge in anywhere, and I read on a reliable source that the vast majority of novice writers see their efforts winging their way back home from the publishers accompanied by a reject note. Or ending up shedding tears in front of the TV camera. Such was the case of the audition of the Joseph and the Technicolour Dreamcoat West End theatrical production as chief actor/singer, a few years ago. When one candidate's song failed the first round of the audition, he fell into the arms of presenter Graham Norton and cried like a baby while still live on air. Not the sort of emotion shown if failed for a post as a plumber. The role as Joseph was eventually won by a professional singer.

Even here on this website, it has been suggested that I write of my travel experiences and submit for publication. This sounds fine, if I knew that I stood a high chance of acceptance. Who would not want to see their own works on display for sale at Waterstones? Then again, it's my opinion that backpacking travel is not specifically unique, although this might have been the case half a century earlier. Nowadays there are a large number of undergrads who travel abroad on their gap-year and come back with tales of extraordinary adventures.

And here's the hunch. Such professions mentioned above all require degrees. It does look to me that gaining a university degree is a good alternative to local, national or worldwide recognition, and as in the case of journalism, a necessary stepping stone. As these careers are fiercely competitive, with thousands applying for so few posts, maybe physical excellence is possible with out and out determination, training and a huge dollop of pure luck.

So failing at school, being lucky enough to find and hold down a humble manual job, feeling one in a faceless crowd, of the masses, an also ran in sports, not recognised - let alone famous - little wonder that to my experience, being a nobody has the capability to lead to self-pity, depression, a life of hopelessness, failure, worthlessness, class envy, even suicide. I'm sure that among sport celebrities like Andrew Murrey, David Beckham or Bobby Charlton, or presenters like Brian Cox, Simon Reece or David Attenborough, along with numerous actors, singers, news reporters and newspaper journalists, such occupations are linked to public recognition and fame. It was interesting to note that just before writing this, a filler appeared on Amanda Platell's page of the Daily Mail. In it I read that since the Goring Hotel in London was the venue of Kate and the Middleton family just prior to her Royal Wedding to Prince William, its fortunes have soared with bookings stretching over months.

International footballer David Beckham

When I feel so small and insignificant, unimportant and worthless in a world of celebrities, one of the most liberating forces at work is the truth of the Gospel. I have found the value of celebrity losing its power when I learned the truth of the Gospel. In it is the knowledge that God loves you personally. When Jesus Christ died on the cross, he died with my name and your name on the cross. When I first believed, God the Judge granted judicial acquittal, or justification. The very fact that every believer has his name written in the Lamb's Book of Life shows that God Almighty knows each one of us as individuals. And furthermore, the relationship is eternal.

What a wonderful truth - to be known and loved individually by the Almighty God!

And that's why I tend to pity, rather than show reverence to a celebrity. True enough, there are some, like singer Cliff Richard, who is world famous and a believer in Jesus. But most of the others do not, or had never known the Lord. Actress and singer Marilyn Monroe and ex Beatle John Lennon were such cases of great celebrities who lived and died without knowing Jesus Christ as Saviour, both stepping into lost eternities while still at the prime of their lives.

As for Andrew Murray, a friend I know personally, had given this tennis champion praise on Facebook for elevating patriotic and national pride and glory. Underneath, in one of the comment boxes, I wrote; 
What Andy needs now is Jesus Christ as Saviour.
My friend actually clicked "Like" on my comment, implicating full agreement.

Although Andy Murrey had done a great service to Great Britain, his glory is self-ward. I actually mourn for him rather than show reverence. In fact, I find it very difficult to show reverence to any celebrity who is still in his sins. Instead, I long for such a person to have faith in Jesus. This applies to everyone alive - to know Jesus Christ as Saviour and Lord, and to be filled with the Holy Spirit.

Like this, an eternal crown awaits him in Heaven.