Dust, Ashes, Loyalty, and Treachery.

Why are we here? I was once told that there have always been highly trained philosophers throughout history who were never able to answer that question. In a quest to leave religion out of the debate, one fellow had taken a look at a cliff-face of stratified rock layers, often containing fossils of long-dead organisms, and came up with the theory of Uniformitarianism. I know, it's one heck of a long word - and typing it in here may give an impression of being a graduate. However, the person referred was Scottish geologist Charles Lyell, who in 1837 published his book, Principles of Geology. In a nutshell, it was about his theory that the rock strata were laid down very slowly by water over millions of years.

Charles Darwin, after sailing around the world in The Beagle, finally arrived at the Galapagos Islands in the Pacific, and from observing the wildlife thriving on these volcanic peaks, and taking into consideration Lyell's book, in 1859 he published his more famous book, On the Origins of  Species by means of Natural Selection or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life, normally known simply as On the Origin of Species. It was the book which changed the world and liberated society from "the horrible shackles of religion" which included giving an account to a God in heaven.

Charles Darwin

Darwin changing the world? I would go as far to say that what he had written and published has caused a hypothetical earthquake which ripples could be felt today. And the ripples, rather than fading away as in a physical quake, these are constantly intensifying, right to the point where not only the earth is shaking but the heavens too.

Strange really, on how such a book could have an effect, both directly and indirectly, upon the lives of millions. As mentioned in previous blogs, Hitler's henchmen, academics such as Dr Josef Mengele, Dr Joseph Goebbels, Dr Alfred Rosenberg and Reinhard Heydrich were all former Roman Catholics - until they entered university and became more aware of the theory of evolution by means of Natural Selection being far more "in tune with reality" than their religious faith could ever offer, and all renounced their former religion, embraced Darwinism, and allowing this to be their mindset to get behind Hitler to launch the Holocaust.*

There is something about the university as a recognised institution. It was successful in transforming former Catholics into atheists, any beliefs in Creationism into Darwin's evolution, from being potential medical carers to mass killers. Furthermore, the university seems to have the ability to transform a man into believing he is a god. Not only is this accumulation of knowledge raises the student's status towards supposed divinity, but verifies the Edenic Lie to be fully historic.

Sure enough, there are talking animals recorded in the Bible. The serpent, or snake, was one of them. It was it which made Eve reconsider God's motive in not allowing them to eat of a certain tree in the garden and then promising divinity just by eating of its fruit (Genesis 3:1-7). Then there was the case of a talking donkey ridden by the prophet Balaam, recorded in Numbers chapter 22. The prophet was so engrossed with the king's reward to curse the young nation of Israel, that an angel, invisible to the prophet, stood in front while Balaam urged the donkey on. Then in exasperation, the donkey spoke human words. What astonishes me was that Balaam took all this in his stride, as if it was an everyday occurrence, without any hint of shock or surprise! I wonder how a present-day jockey, competing at Ascot Racecourse, would react if his horse told him in plain English to ease up?

To the secularist, such divine breaches to the natural order have made the whole Bible disbelievable and far from reality. And I guess this includes the story of the Tower of Babel, recorded in Genesis 11:1-9. Here, after a few generations, the descendants of Noah grew into quite a sizable community. Although meant to spread across the Earth by God's command, instead they deliberately disobeyed, preferring to confirm their status as gods by building a city and tower "to reach unto heaven". Their pride and ambition to climb the ladder of divinity, in this case literally, was so intense, that God himself had to intervene. Indeed, the snake spoke to them at Babel, and keeps on speaking, saying the same sort of things to us, right up to this day.

And from this divided community arose one man, Abraham. Married for many years to his beautiful wife Sarah, but remaining childless, this man knew his own worth before God. He was so different from his contemporaries. Instead of thinking he could make himself divine through hard work and in trusting natural selection to raise his descendants to godhood, he thought of himself as just dust and ashes, as recorded in Genesis 18:27-28.

Abraham had a very healthy perception of himself. Because to think of himself no more than dust and ashes was an acknowledgement for the need of a Saviour. And that is why we are here. To know God, our Creator, and a Saviour to save us from our godhood-obsessed sinful natures. And that is how I want to think myself as - dust and ashes by nature, yet regenerated and transformed into a son of God, to be "a little Christ" (the correct meaning of the word Christian), and to spend all eternity in God's presence. And hand-in-hand with this is to acknowledge that every person born is the very image of God, regardless of skin colour, nationality, religion, occupation or wealth.

Creationism recognises that every person is made in the image of God. Evolution discriminates against the weak and favouring the strong and the fit in the struggle for life, allowing the weak and the unfit to perish through extinction. And that can apply to race and nationalism, too.

Charles Darwin himself acknowledged this. He actually believed that the English were the superior race, more advanced in the evolutionary scale than all other nations. His cousin, Englishman Francis Galton, redirected Darwin's evolutionary theory from general biology to social evolution, something still sticking to us up to the present.

Tower of Babel.

And so this passing week, where social evolution seems to be the underlying motive involving loyalty against treachery in the political world here in the UK. It was all about Brexit, and after months of failed negotiations with Brussels, at last, our Prime Minister, Theresa May, has come up with a deal which if passed by both Brussels and Parliament, will keep the United Kingdom united and at the same time, keep the border between Northern Ireland and the Irish Republic open, without a physical barrier, which was removed after the signing of the Good Friday Agreement on 10th April 1998. The deal includes the restriction on people movement - the main sticking point of the 2016 Referendum - as well as better fishing rights and freedom from the European Court of Justice in Luxembourg. But the issue also involves remaining in the single market for tariff-free and borderless trading.

For example, much of our necessary medicines are manufactured in the EU and shipped here in the UK. If May's deal is passed, any threat to our medicine supply will most likely be lifted, and our supplies should continue as they always have. But if the deal falls through, and that can still happen, then it's either a No-deal Brexit, which could see our medicine supply, for example, restricted or even cut off - or no Brexit at all, therefore remaining in the EU (wishful thinking!). This is really important to us, as both my wife and I are dependent on a regular supply, in my case, for life.

Theresa May admits that her deal is far from perfect, but it is the best on offer. She spent months working hard at it, to bring it to an agreement with Brussels. When a draft agreement was made, immediately a number of Tory MP's started to write letters to the Party Chairman for the Prime Minister to be given the vote of no confidence, in other words, to oust her out from power.

One of the leading "hard-Brexiteers" who was to write such a letter was Jacob Rees-Mogg, sometimes known as the Englishman's darling. Despite May's hard efforts over the months to knock out a deal, in him, we see treachery in its worst form - campaigning to have the Prime Minister kicked out of power while she is in a vulnerable position. 

For the benefit of those who are regular readers of my blogs, I have made known my disagreements with the Conservative Party. For example, I have always been against any form of privatisation of the NHS, I was never keen on big business making big profits at the expense of its workers and its customers, I never had any time for rich, idle aristocrats or posh people, I have always been on the side of the low-income earners and their rights to benefits. I have favoured re-nationalisation of the railways, and I was even sympathetic for socialist Jeremy Corbyn in power as Prime Minister. 

But this case is different. I actually admire Theresa May for her sheer determination to get a deal through, and I admire her for her resolute stance in not giving to these hard-line Brexiteers who are in a sense, baying for her blood. And I admire her husband, Philip May. By reading on how supportive he is towards his beloved during her most difficult moments is heart-moving. And I hope, as a daughter of a vicar and both regular church-goers, they feel free to call on God's grace to empower her in her endeavour. She is going to need it!

But I cannot say the same about the treacherous Jacob Rees-Mogg and his ilk. Immediately after the deal was announced, he immediately campaigned for her to be voted out of office. He was the very first to write a letter of no-confidence. For a leader who has tried her hardest, to be kicked while she is already down is disgraceful. Yet Rees-Mogg is a practising Catholic. He claims to be a devout Christian. Like May, he too goes to church each week. Yet he does this to her. It is because of his religious and educational background that I have singled him out among hard Brexiteers.

Therefore, what has Rees-Mogg's bad behaviour to do with Darwin's evolutionary theory and its consequences? Here I take the guidance of Jesus himself:

Ye shall know them by their fruits.

Matthew 7:16 AV.

Simply this: Despite his Catholic upbringing, I also believe him to be a devout evolutionist despite that he never said this in public. By accepting Darwinism, he also accepts the biologist's idea of racial superiority, that is to say, he believes that the English are a superior nation to all other nations. Charles Darwin himself believed this. His cousin Francis Galton also believed this. therefore it's no surprise that Rees-Mogg also shares their beliefs, as it can be so clearly seen whilst in the public eye.

Having been to Eton, one of Britain's most prestigious schools, and then studied at Oxford, Rees-Mogg never leaves his house without a tie. He even takes his sons out on holiday, each dressed in suit and tie, regardless of the warm Summer weather. Therefore he constantly poses as the ideal English gentleman. And of course, very patriotic, seeking sovereignty, independence, and a hopeful future glory for England. Before now I would have passed all this off as a mere eccentric. But after his campaign to have the PM thrown out whilst in her lowest ebb - that is not eccentricity. Rather it's downright wickedness!

Jacob Rees-Mogg on holiday in New York, 2018.

And here is what I find rather distressing: There are Christians, some even in my own church at Ascot, who supports Jacob Rees-Mogg, and uphold him as a shining beacon of Brexit and the return of traditional Englishness. Furthermore, he is given full credit for his educational and social backgrounds, his patriotism, his stiff upper lip, and year-round smart dress. Indeed, with such support given by those who call themselves Christian but are really graduates, it makes me wonder how I could possibly remain one myself, identifying as being of the same faith. Then again, before now, it's quite likely that they didn't know any better.

Really, I hope their eyes are suddenly opened by the MP's act of treachery and betrayal. To add to this, I have a hope that God's mercy does pierce any veil the Church has over Rees-Mogg's eyes, and to see what his has done, and repent, afterwards letting his colleagues know of his change of mind and give that much-needed support for Theresa May and her struggle to complete a momentous task. 

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*Jerry Bergman, Hitler and the Nazi Darwinian Worldview, Joshua Press, 2014.  

Outsmarted by a Vending Machine?

Alex my wife felt rather hungry, not having eaten for five or six hours. She asked me whether there is a vending machine in the vicinity. I answered that there is one at that particular corner, but when I arrived at the spot on the far side of the 'L' shaped room, the old machine had gone. Searching elsewhere, I found what appears to be a new installation at a nearby corridor, just out of my wife's view.

Just the sight of this high-tech snack dispenser has made my skin crawl a little. A reflection of our increasingly sophisticated society? Maybe so, maybe not, however, what I did notice for the first time ever, was that there is a debit card terminal built into the machine, along with coin slots and an array of push-buttons, or a typewriter-style keyboard, whatever it's referred as. Thinking that inserting my bank card into the slot and keying in the code number of the item chosen from the wide display behind the glass window, I would first type in the code, then the machine debits my card at the appropriate price. And so I thought.

Nothing happened, except that there was an electronic display of the price at a slot directly under the keypad. I managed to lift the lid located below the display window, but none of those coils, on which each item is suspended, made any effort to turn. Was my card debited? I don't know, but I decided to insert some coins instead - after removing the card from the terminal - and keyed in the code. 

Again some obscure message was displayed. I think it was reading, Continue Shopping. I was confused. All I wanted was one item, which was for Alex. I ended up gazing rather forlornly at the whole machine until another message appeared on the slot: Abandon Shopping? When I pressed the right button, some coins fell into the reject tray, which brought some relief, but nevertheless, I felt defeated by modern technology, but fortunately for me, with no-one near me to watch the whole episode, I was spared the embarrassment. I then apologised to Alex and with her kind response, answered, Don't worry about it.

Vending machines, of course, are nothing new to me. But my familiarity with them had always consisted of inserting the right coin(s) and out dropped the item. And that was it. And that applied to both food and drinks. And going back to the late sixties, how could I ever forget this particular vending outlet at college, where I had to attend on a weekly day-release scheme set by the Government at the time? It was a hot drinks dispenser, which I believe sold only tea. First thing in the morning, after nearly an hour's train travel into London, coupled with being squeezed into a packed Underground train, I made straight for that machine after entering the building.

On one occasion the plastic cup fell onto its side as it was automatically dropped from its holder. I felt a complete pillock as I watched the tea pouring over its side and into the drip-drain underneath it. On another occasion, I carefully drew the hot tea out of the dispenser, only to see a bluebottle floating dead on the surface. I had to chuck the whole thing out. But those were the days when vending machines were straightforward to use, even if a bug in the tea came, on one occasion, with the price.

Then again, there were other times when technology seems to run ahead of my capabilities. Topping up my mobile is one of them, at least occasionally. It is very fortunate that my regular cashpoint, at our local Sainsbury's superstore, has enough patience for me to hesitantly type in the eleven-digit number correctly, then to repeat the sequence for verification. No problem. Elsewhere I have been given a warning that my time is about to run out, then cuts short my transaction attempt when, out of panic, I tend to dither further.

I suppose these electronic dispensers and cashpoints are designed with the assumption that every individual who makes use of these machines must be rapid keyboard typists or graduates who know by heart how to decode the extreme complexity involved in buying a sandwich, a Mars bar or a packet of crisps. It is as if the food is some kind of reward one gets for solving a challenging problem, very like that of a dolphin receiving its food after performing an astounding act before an audience of onlookers, or that of a mouse finding its food after navigating a complex maze of transparent plastic tunnels. Indeed, so it looks to me, modern society is centred around the graduate.

Is life fair? Really, it looks to me that life is very unfair! For example, let's go back to that vending machine incident. Where about did this happen? Indeed, it was at the waiting room of Royal Berkshire Hospital A&E. But we were not waiting to be seen by the medic. Rather, we were waiting for a taxi to take us back home after my wife had suffered another episode of severe back pain and the resulting overdose of Oramorph. We called the ambulance, not so much for a backache as with the overdose, which requires her to be seen straight away. For her backache, we have medicine in place to meet the situation without the need for A&E. But an overdose is something quite different.

All this is quite contrary from my original perception of retirement. After working manually for nearly half a century after leaving school in 1968, I had hopes for full-time leisure - swimming, gym, sauna, day trips, holidays abroad, as well as, of course, church. Indeed, since my retirement commenced in 2015, all these were fulfilled, including two Eurostar trips to Paris. But at present, with my beloved confined to a wheelchair whenever she is outdoors, living on a knife-edge is certainly nerve-wracking. Like the time when we were extremely unfortunate enough for the elevator to break down in London at that moment when my wife just happens to be in it. The sudden jolt had jarred her back, the severe pain meant A&E instead of boarding the train home. After, the staff at nearby St. Thomas Hospital decided to keep her in overnight, resulting in further payment for an extra, unscheduled night spent alone at a hotel. 

And I wonder where God is in all this. How is it that of all married couples around us, we are one of a small minority to whom a wheelchair is needed? The worst thing about all this is Alex is considerably younger than I am. To see her like this is heartbreaking.

But I would never ever leave her! My love for her is strong, robust, and she loves me equally. I'm not exaggerating when she says that I am the best man she could have for a husband. And I always think of her whilst out on my own, whether it's on a quick trip to the shops, at the gym, sauna, or on a train trip to Reading or to London to visit a longstanding friend. And here is another setback. Her disability has put limits to her travel to the extent that she is restricted in using the London Underground, and I fear to take her back on Eurostar lest an episode overseas means treatment at a foreign hospital followed by a massive bill.

Damn! Damn! Damn! Why did we vote to leave the EU? Even if we as a couple voted to remain in the EU, we still lost the Referendum. Surely, that will put a real stickler on international travel, wouldn't it, especially to European countries, unless our Government can knock together a deal in time with the EU which would give us ease of access. 

But whether remaining in the EU or leaving, my wife's disability will always restrict travel, maybe for the rest of our lives. Nevertheless, I will, as I always have, acknowledge God in all things, especially the good. As in last week's blog which was about hiking the Grand Canyon, I can say with conviction that I wouldn't have been able to make such a trip without God's sovereign help. The same applies to all travel, whether it was to France, Germany, Italy, Greece, Spain, Israel, Singapore, Australia, Canada and the USA. All these I have recognised as being a rich blessing from God. And now, I see our marriage as a wonderful blessing from God, and I am and will be, always thankful to him.

Our 16th Wedding Anniversary, Bournemouth 2015.

It is too easy, too tempting to moan about my fate under such a burden of my wife's disability. The anxiety on when she would have another attack is always at the forefront of my mind. Yet by going through such an experience, there is something worth learning. And that is having a responsibility - a very special sense of responsibility. And I believe that this responsibility itself comes from God. That is why I so fervently believe in daily Bible reading, usually in the morning before getting up, this being the powerhouse upon which our marriage not only survives despite illness but thrives.

True enough, to read the Bible on a daily basis is a learnt habit. It did not come naturally at first after conversion. One of the reasons being, that I might have found something in Holy Scripture which contradicts my cherished beliefs. For example, believing in Once Saved Always Saved and then reading Hebrews 6:4-6. Rather than putting the Bible down and walking away in discouragement, instead I kept it open in my hands with the determination that somehow I would solve the apparent contradiction. And eventually, this has paid off. A thorough reading of the Bible over time has led me to discover that Hebrews 6:4-6 isn't about a Christian falling into apostasy. As this is a letter written for Jews at the time of the Temple offerings still being made, therefore the author is warning them not to reject the offer of salvation from the risen Lord Jesus in favour of maintaining Temple sacrifices.

I suppose the confusion comes from the phrase made partakers of the Holy Ghost found in verse 4. Does this indicate a fully committed, regenerated Christian falling into apostasy? Or, as I believe through means of studying the rest of the Bible, that it indicates a curious unbeliever who spends some time fellowshipping with true believers and enjoying all its benefits, but at the end of the day, decides that this Jesus of Nazareth is just an insignificant imposter, and being a Jew, returns to the Temple? 

After all, the letter is addressed to the Hebrews (indicating all Jews rather than just Jewish believers). The theme of the letter is about how the Temple and all the ordinances connected with it was to lead to Christ, his death, burial and resurrection, and having fulfilled the Law of Moses, therefore making the Temple obsolete. If someone rejects Jesus as Saviour, then there are no more sacrifices that can be made to atone for him short of the need for Jesus Christ to be crucified all over again.

I have a book by Philip Bell, an ardent Creationist, which is titled Evolution and the Christian Faith. In it, he gives the sad testimony of Charles Templeton, a one-time fervent American evangelist who was known to win many to Christ among massive revival audiences. Eventually, he himself had departed from the faith. In 1996 he wrote Farewell to God: My Reasons for Rejecting the Christian Faith, just five years before his death in 2001.

As one who believes in Once Saved Always Saved, this presents a dilemma. Any Arminian Christian would hold Templeton as a classic example that salvation can be lost by the believer. But reading other portions of the Bible, during the Judgement, we read of Jesus saying, I never knew you, depart from me ye that work iniquity (Matthew 7:23). If the Holy Spirit has actually used Charles Templeton to bring others to Christ for salvation, then how can I be sure that Jesus would actually say, I never knew you when actually, he did? Didn't Jesus himself say that the Holy Spirit will abide with and in you forever? (John 14:16-17).

I guess that such what looks to be a contradiction can boil down to our natural inability to accept that God can, and does, admit someone such as Templeton into Heaven. Many who share my Eternal Security truth would say that Templeton was never saved in the first place. I think that is nonsense! Rather, for such a former evangelist to enter Heaven would be a shock to his system and will demonstrate the very glory of God in showing mercy to such a one swallowed by intellectual deception.

But what I find interesting is what was the cause of Templeton's apostasy? It was his belief in Theistic Evolution! If ever there was such a force that turn Christian people into atheists and shut the minds of everyone else from the truth of the Gospel, it is Darwinism, whether theistic or not. And lately, I have read about a terrible shocker. So shocking this was and such a tearjerker, that it has an ongoing effect on my emotions.

It's about atheist Richard Dawkins' intention to write a children's book with the purpose of putting young children from any belief in God and direct their innocent young minds on Evolution, ensuring that any religious account of Supernatural Creationism is to be confined to myth and fairy tales.

God help me! Heaven help them! The very thought of a toddler being fed such intellectual poison is a heart-rending proposition. Yet we tend to forget that something very similar has been happening in Islamic, Hindu, Buddhist and animistic countries for centuries. Newborn babies grow up in an environment where they never hear the Gospel of Christ, the only way to Heaven. Personally, I find all this heart-rending yet I feel totally powerless to do anything about it.

Meanwhile, popular presenters such as David Attenborough, Brian Cox, and Andrew Marr, all committed Evolutionists, continue to push their beliefs through television, especially the BBC. And the average man in the street absorbs all that is presented, perhaps without realising that all this stuff in the name of Science has stripped the Bible of any historicity, authority and credibility. However, such a denial of Holy Scripture is settled in his subconscious, a barrier between himself and the Gospel.

Evolutionist Prof. Brian Cox visiting the Grand Canyon.

I may not get to grips with the up-to-date vending machine. I may find a dead housefly floating in my tea or coffee. I could dither in panic while trying to key in my mobile phone number at a cashpoint. But neither of these indicates a deprivation of wisdom. Because the firm foundation of wisdom is to know God through faith in Jesus Christ and to be thoroughly stuck into the Word of God, the Holy Bible. There is nothing to lose by making a daily reading of the Bible as natural as eating and sleeping.

A Lesson From a Cheap Camera.

One fascinating thing about having friends on social websites such as Facebook is that many would share their photo albums on past travel experiences, and observers like myself can enjoy a moment of nostalgia, having fond memories of my own experiences at the same venue.

As such, a new website friend, Dave Betts, who has recently arrived as a newcomer at our church in Ascot and has raised my hopes for a "proper" face-to-face friendship, has on his photo page an album featuring his visit to the Grand Canyon with two other mates of his, a trip made within the last three years or so. One picture shows him sitting precariously on a narrow ledge above what looks like a sheer drop into the abyss below. I have to admit, such posing at such a dynamic background makes for fascinating photography - one which would qualify for any magazine publication or display at an art gallery.  

All three were definitely having a whale of a time! And as Dave himself commented, this particular trip fulfilled his life-long dream of wanting to see the Grand Canyon for himself. And so the trio hired a car, most likely using the FlyDrive scheme, where car hire is purchased together with the air ticket, thought up by the travel industry for the benefit of British and European tourists who desire an independent trip around the States.

Grand Canyon from near Kolb Studio, 1995.

Which, to me anyway, is very different from the escorted tours available. Indeed, there are many who prefer the comfort which comes with such holidays, free from any personal responsibilities. But the trouble with such ranger-led trips is that the keeping of tight schedules can cramp such experiences, such, for example, had emanated from one couple arriving at the South Rim on such a tour:

You have twenty minutes, the escort announced to all as the tourists alighted from the coach. As one couple was spending their precious moments enamoured by the displays at the Visitor's Center, suddenly one of them, the wife, I think, shouted, 

Heavens! We have only five minutes left! 

Quickly they dashed to the rim in time to take a quick look at the magnificent work of nature before compelled to return to the waiting coach and continue on with the journey. Unbelievable? Maybe so, but I actually read the account in either National Geographic or The Rough Guide to the Grand Canyon some years ago, so it must be true. It's the sort of thing that makes me feel aghast about such tours - as if time and money spent on them were more important to the company responsible than the sense of fulfilment felt by the tourist, to which such companies are obliged to meet.

However, unlike Dave Betts and his mates, I couldn't take advantage of the FlyDrive scheme which was so popular in my day, as I don't hold a driving licence. But back in 1978, once again I bought an air ticket along with the go-as-you-please Greyhound Bus Ameripass ticket, a document which allowed unlimited travel across the USA on the bus for a fixed period, which for me was four weeks. This time, I was determined to visit the Grand Canyon National Park, after having missed it on my first ever transatlantic trip a year earlier in 1977. It was also on this initial trip where on the flight from London to Toronto that something went horribly wrong.

At Indian Gardens, Tonto Plateau, 1995.

It was the moment, shortly after take-off, that I wanted to capture a fascinating scene of the Scottish landscape under a clear sky from my window seat. And that's when the camera shutter suffered permanent failure. It was my Dad's camera given to me, a type 120 which was housed in a metal casing complete with a leather jacket, and used a paper-backed spooled film which captures negative images 2.25" square. He had it for years, right from my boyhood days. What? On a transatlantic flight with no camera? Therefore, once landed in Toronto and having found a suitable hotel, the first shop I called was at a photography outlet. There I bought a cheap 110 pocket Instamatic which was housed entirely in plastic and captures images at just 13mm by 17mm in size. The resulting pics taken were generally okay, although with soft detail outlines which gives the impression of being very slightly out of focus. 

The following year, in 1978, I took the same pocket Instamatic for the second transatlantic flight specifically to visit the Grand Canyon. After landing in New York and settling down at a seedy-looking hotel in the heart of Manhatten, again with a Greyhound Bus Ameripass, I began my journey towards Flagstaff in Arizona, stopping at various cities along the way.  At my arrival at four in the morning local time at this quiet settlement, I discovered that I have just entered the Pacific Time Zone from Mountain Time Zone, therefore I felt discouraged at the extra hour I had to wait alone during the small hours at the otherwise deserted bus terminal for the special Greyhound Bus to Grand Canyon Village on the South Rim.

During that wait, I was meant to spend just a day at the Canyon, so I deposited my luggage at a left-locker located in the waiting room. By 7.30 am I boarded the bus, expecting to return by nightfall before continuing the journey overnight to Los Angeles.

Looking North into Bright Angel Canyon, 1995

Upon arrival, I was struck by the sheer size, beauty and dynamism of the Canyon! As I looked down upon the buttes consisting of sedimentary strata, mainly of sandstone and limestone, I knew straight away that these rocks were laid by water before the river cut into the plateau to form this huge gorge. A testimony to Noah's Flood? As I walked along the rim, I noticed hikers going down and coming up a trail, which head was close to Kolb Studios set at the rim's edge. Therefore through inquiry, I discovered that I could reserve a bed for myself at the desk at Bright Angel Lodge for Phantom Ranch way down below. Bright Angel Lodge is also close by to the trailhead, which shares the same name as the Lodge itself.

Wow! A cancellation at one of the Phantom Ranch dormitories allowed me to buy a reservation ticket. Suddenly, the whole plan of the day changed. I was not to return to Flagstaff that evening. Instead, I'll be spending that night at the Ranch, which is located a little way north of the Colorado River, and also where Bright Angel Creek joins the main river after flowing from a spring close to the North Rim. Because I wanted to take in the grandeur of the Canyon from the South Rim, as well as explore the village and Visitor's Center, I stayed at the Rim longer than I should have done.

And so by late afternoon, after hiring a rucksack and packing it with suitable eats as well as a gallon of drinking water bought at a nearby superstore, I started to make my way down Bright Angel Trail, just as the blue sky turned into a grey overcast. It is interesting, coming to think of it, as I hiked rapidly down the switchbacks, also known as Jacob's Ladder, I noticed the vast majority of walkers were heading the other way, out of the Canyon. In fact, I would not be exaggerating (or understating) that I was the only one going down. Everyone else was coming up. One hiker even stopped me to ask whether I had a Camper's Pass. I explained that I had a reservation for Phantom Ranch. He looked satisfied and allowed me to proceed.

By the time I arrived at Tonto Plateau - the level shelf halfway into the Canyon where Indian Gardens Campground was also located - I was entirely alone. This is because, as I learned later, that the vast majority of visitors purposely don't make it to the bottom. A large number of walkers make it to the 1.5-mile rest station and then turn back. Far fewer proceed to the 3-mile station, which is at the foot of the South Rim cliff. The majority who do then turn back up. This leaves a small percentage of hikers who continue on. Hence my isolation at Indian Gardens, just as a thunder rolled overhead.

Nearby was a notice warning of flash floods that can endanger hikers. Wow! Exactly what I wanted to read! Now for the first time, I felt a tinge of fear. But I walked on, with the magnificent splendour of Buddha Temple butte towering directly in front of me, and Cheops Pyramid butte to the left of it, backed by the wall of the North Rim. The trail divided at this point. One branched off to Plateau Point, on the edge of the Inner Gorge, from where a dramatic view of the River can be seen directly from above, as it cuts through gneiss and granite bedrock upon which the sedimentary strata sit. I stayed on the main trail, which plunges into the Inner Gorge by means of switchbacks known as the Devil's Corkscrew.

As the massive walls of the Inner Gorge towered over me, the thunder continued to roll, but there was hardly any rain. If ever there was a time I felt alone and cut off from the world this was it. By the time I got to the bottom, there was a constant hum of bugs, millions of them, such as crickets, filling the air with such a rich sound. Eventually, I came across a hut with a couple of humans milling about. What a massive relief it was to see another human!

Deep in the Devil's Corkscrew, 1995.

I called out, and seeing me approaching (as their hut was by the trail) they invited me in. They offered me some refreshment and begged me to stay the night with them. They were French hikers, and although communication was difficult, we certainly were able to make our thoughts known. However, I declined their invitation. Not only did I suspect what they were doing was possibly illegal to National Park rules, but I also felt determined to finish the hike properly. Therefore I bade them farewell.

The trail rounded a bend and I found myself right next to the River as it was getting dark. The trail continued alongside, with the towering view of Zoroaster Temple Butte, on the North side of the river, yet seen from here as directly in front.

I crossed the River at Silver Bridge, one of only two which crosses the River and I eventually made my way into Phantom Ranch reception to claim my bed at one of the single-gender dormitory huts. The other occupants consisted of a young German, whose girlfriend slept in another hut reserved for females. And there were two "locals" - hikers from Los Angeles, and two vacant beds. Considering the intense demand for these beds, with many potential hikers turned away at the booking desk at Bright Angel Lodge, it was no surprise that later that night, after we were all in bed and still awaiting the new arrivals, a discussion arose to why these beds remained unoccupied.

Therefore here is an extract from the diary I kept of the entire trip:

"They most likely turned chicken and turned back to the village", one of the Californians sneered.

I lay in bed, grateful for the darkness hiding my embarrassment. Because I too am a coward. How could I forget the fear I felt whilst alone further back (at the Devil's Corkscrew?)

As we all (at the Ranch) set off the next morning, watching the clear waters of Bright Angel Creek flow non-stop to the Colorado River, the camera shutter was constantly clicking. One picture after another. The dawn scene deep in the Canyon was indeed a fascinated sight. How the outlines of the surrounding buttes made a contrast to the clear sky above, along with the sound of the rushing River.

Zoroaster Butte dominates River, 1995.

I finally arrived at the village after nine hours of hiking to the Rim from the Ranch, with the last three hours so torturous as the rucksack weighed on my back whilst ascending the Jacob's Ladder switchbacks.

It was after I arrived back home and had the film developed when I felt intense disappointment! All the snapshots of the Inner Gorge failed to come out properly - just dark, black silhouettes breaking a velvety sky along with a poor reflection from the River.

It was a horrible disappointment. Like if a mission I set off to had failed in its accomplishment. It was a very hard lesson to learn. That is, never set off on such trips with a cheap camera. I was just asking for trouble.

All this played on my mind for the next seventeen years. During that time I was made redundant from the engineering job I had, and I started my window cleaning business, which I kept going successfully for the next 35 years. But the thought of re-visiting the Grand Canyon to complete my "original mission" was always on the front of my mind. 

1995 arrived, and with it, another backpacking trip to the USA, this time taking with me a better camera, the type 135, then the standard cartridge film throughout the nineties. Again, the same trail was used, but instead of the storm, the sky remained clear into the night, giving the most fantastic astronomical display I have ever seen. And true to form, snapshots of the Inner Gorge and River came out far better than the originals.

As the Psalm goes:

Oh Lord,

How manifold are thy works!

In wisdom hast thou made them all:

The Earth is full of thy riches.

Psalm 104:24.

A Remoaner at Christian Concern?

My soul was filled with a sense of accomplishment as I left the gym and headed for the spa suite. After all, once again I have completed a little more than a full one hour of rowing on the Concept 2 flywheel rower, shedding around 520-530 calories as I "completed" a distance of around six and a half miles - without actually moving the whole contraption from its place in the gym, let alone taking it outside. Therefore I cannot help admiring the "real rowers" who ply along the River Thames, starting and finishing at clubhouses located at Oxford, Eton, Kingston, and plenty more along this world-famed river. How thrilled I felt as I watched the sheer sleekness of the narrow canoe glide with apparent ease as a team row with superb coordination.

After a spell in the bubble bath, it was the steam room, prior to full relaxation in the sauna itself. It was while in the steam room when another bather commented to his companion of the lack of heat. His mate then suggested that there might well have been complaints passed on to management about the steam room being too hot for them to bear. I then chipped in:- 

Snowflakes!

The room went quiet, save for the rumbling hiss of the steam dispenser. I had expected a chorus of Hear! Hear! or equivalent, even a start of a conversation about our younger generation's adverse to any endurance to mild discomfort, the end fruit of our politically correct culture. Instead, I was left with the feeling that my comment didn't go down well. And that added to the fact that this particular steam room is badly designed. The single seating tier was set far too low, close to the floor, and the steam chimney set too high. The result has always been, if I wanted to feel the benefit of immersion in hot, steam-soaked air, is to stand up, as such warm air hugged the ceiling, leaving my lower legs in almost normal room temperature.

But the centre point here was my comment. I referred to these complainers as snowflakes. A derogatory statement. Such a term couldn't be more appropriate. Any snowflake would rapidly melt if exposed to just a little heat. However, during the ensuing silence, I had to sit and think. Was my contribution edifying? Supposing it was Jesus Christ sitting at that spot? Would he come out with such a remark?

The Lord Jesus at a spa suite? After all, they were dotted all over the Roman Empire even in his day. However, he preferred to attend a wedding, where wine-filled stomachs must have been the basis of a lot of raucous and coarse talk going on around him. Sure enough, he may not have participated in such lewdness himself, but apparently, he did not upbraid them either. Instead, in order to prove to them that he was the Messiah, he created new wine out of jugs of water so the party can continue.

It was the weekend last week (hence no blogging) that I was invited by a good friend of mine, Dr Andrew Milnthorpe, to a tenth birthday celebration of a para-church organisation, Christian Concern, which was held at the Emmanual Centre in Central London, just a short walk from the Houses of Parliament. The venue was significant. It was where Creation Ministries International held their Conference just a month earlier. If the cutting of the cake was meant to be the climax of the whole evening, then there were more dramatic events leading to that moment.

At least two occurred at or near Westminster Station, one stop away on the Underground from Waterloo mainline station. The first was that a mother of three young children had decided to exit the train through the narrow single sliding door rather than through the wide double doors nearby. The wheels of the pushchair accommodating her screaming toddler had lodged in the gap between the train and the platform edge. However, within seconds she was able to lift the pushchair out of the gap as she herself stepped off the train, followed by Andrew. A moment later the train pulled out with me still on board, after the door slid shut at my face.

When he shared the experience on Facebook, he received comments such as, Did you offer any help? and other comments describing similar distresses such mothers can have on public transport. Therefore I chipped in, giving a fuller version of the incident, and emphasising that rather than Andrew taking the full flak, the mother herself must take her share of the blame for using such a narrow exit, therefore blocking our exit too, whilst the crowds passed in and out of the nearby double doorway where the pushchair would have had a much easier exit.

After our reunion a few minutes later, we arrived on the street, which was temporarily closed to traffic to allow a large parade, or march, saunter around Parliament Square. Held aloft among the massive crowd were a couple of large blue flags, each with a circle of stars.

European Union supporters, I said, as we attempt to cross the road. Then the word Remoaners crossed my mind. Another degrading word for Remainer, neither are in the Oxford Dictionary, as far as I'm aware. At least the word Remoaner is reasonably mild, even if I don't like reading it in the Press. Worse than Remoaner is Remaniac, and I have even come across the word Remidiots. Such words are coined up by patriotic fanatics such as Katie Hopkins, a one-time The Apprentice hopeful who then became a Daily Mail columnist. And here is where things get rather interesting. It was Hopkins who referred to all EU supporters as monkeys and insisted that after we leave, all immigrants should be kicked out of the country, to make way for the indigenous Englishman to flourish.

Ardent Brexiteer Katie Hopkins, former Newspaper Journalist

Echoes of Adolf Hitler and his henchmen? Not surprisingly, even the Right-leaning Daily Mail had to terminate her contract with them after writing a blistering article declaring that our Government is rubbish and all monkeys (Remainers) were unfit to live.

And all this came so soon after reading a book, Hitler and the Nazi Darwinian Worldview, by Jerry Bergman. In it, the author tells of how belief in Darwin's evolutionary theories was the base rock for the most atrocious Holocaust killings during World War II. He then tells us about the lives of each of Hitler's henchmen. They include Dr Josef Mengele, Martin Bormann, Heinrich Himmler, Dr Joseph Goebbels, Hermann Goring, Reinhard Heydrich, Dr Alfred Rosenberg, and Julius Streicher. According to these men, nearly all of them had graduated at University, had justified their attitude towards the socially and biological inferiority of non-German humanity on Charles Darwin's ideas. These so-called "Socially inferiors" include Jews, Negroes, Slavic and Asian peoples, along with the physically and mentally disabled, who are all behind in their evolutionary progress and therefore unfit to struggle for survival. According to these henchmen, all these must be eliminated from this planet in order for their superior Aryan Race to thrive in Germany and then spread to all corners of the globe.

As this blog is written, today's newspaper carries a story of the extreme American patriot, 56-year old Cesar Sayoc, who sent out more than a dozen bombs to the homes of Democratic politicians and their supporters. Fortunately for them, all the bombs were intercepted before any harm was done. And the cause behind this potential atrocity? To make America great again!

All this has made me sit down and ponder: What's going on? Is there a common link between Brexit supporters, the likes of Katie Hopkins, Cesar Sayoc, members of the English Defence League, even the Deep South Ku Klux Klan - and the Holocaust? An incredible question to ask, I know. For one, the KKK has always looked upon the Negro as more like monkeys, and therefore they should have remained as slaves, and disposable to the white man's wish. As I see it, there does look to be a common denominator underlying all these ideas. And that denominator is Darwin's book, its full title being:-

On the Origins of Species by means of Natural Selection or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life (bold emphasis mine).

When reading Jerry Bergman's book and then reading about what's going on around here in the UK, even if before I could not connect between the two, the likes of Katie Hopkins and Cesar Sayoc seemed to have provided the "missing link" between Brexit and the Holocaust. Of course, no Brexit supporter in his right mind would dare think this way, whoever would? Yet the one reason I would consider most important to those who voted to leave was Border Control (no more immigrants) and to make Britain great again under its own sovereignty. However, as I just remembered, there was a spike of verbal and physical violence towards immigrants by Right Wingers straight after the Referendum result was released, adding to Hopkins and her ilk. If such can be related to the Holocaust, then this looks to be some kind of an unholy trinity - Charles Darwin, the Holocaust, and Nationalism.

It seems as if some kind of unholy spirit is at work in the air. It can be quite a frightening thought, coming to think of it, this influence by such an unclean entity. But by turning to the dawn of history, in the book of Genesis 3:4-6 in the KJV, we read this:

And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: For God doth know that in the day you eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.

And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also to her husband with her; and he did eat. (Emphasis mine.)

It looks as Evolution was right at the centre of the Edenic Lie, a progress upward towards godhood, and at the same time making God out to be a liar. By the looks of it, it's been like this ever since. Going even by my own experience, as a youngster, I was never able to connect Darwin's evolutionary theories with religion, which involves divine creation.* I saw that the two were mutually exclusive. This thing called sin, affecting every one of us, including me, seem to be centred not only on personal survival against others but a quest for power. Also a quest for superiority. Becoming as gods, to make one wise, isn't this what evolution is all about? The struggle for life, the survival of the fittest, and the quest for superiority and dominion?

Dr Andrew Milnthorpe and I are both Creationists. Andrew holds a PhD, I am a retired window cleaner. Yet we are both firm friends, brothers really. We look up to each other. The reason for this is quite simple. We see each other as created in God's image. Therefore as believers, we are very precious to God. This is dynamically opposed to Evolution and its struggle for survival. Could this be the reason why just by calling someone a fool (or talk down on snowflakes) puts him in danger of Hell? (Matthew 5:22). Could this be why God forbids murder? We are all made in his image. We are here to love and serve God and to love and serve each other. A direct opposite of Evolution with its struggle for superiority, whether individualistic, racial or nationalistic.

Fellow Creationist - Dr Andrew Milnthorpe.

The Christian Concern birthday celebration itself turned out far better than I first anticipated. At first, I thought it was just another of these morality organisations with a Christian flavour. Instead, I found it to be centred on Jesus Christ, and for the whole nation to get to know him. I think this is what our nation really needs: a renewed relationship with God through faith in the Risen Christ! Not Brexit. Instead, something much better than divorcing from the EU. Something far more real, far more eternal, and far closer and meaningful to the heart.

My longing wish is that Christian Concern and Creation Ministries International should be in touch with each other and for the truth of Divine Creation washes away any Theistic Evolution nonsense that has made a home in the hearts of many Christians.

And also make me have better respect for "Snowflakes".

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*For details on how I was dramatically converted from being an evolutionist to Creationism, click here.

A Wedding and a Gay Churchgoer.

As many of my readers may be aware, the front page of today's edition of The Daily Mail national newspaper carries a photo of the bride and groom leaving the church in Windsor, and exchanging a kiss whilst their arms are entwined. Yet if I were to see them walking along the street or busy at a shopping mall, I would not even give them a second glance, as they would appear as total strangers. But not to the rest of the nation, it seems like, who would have recognised the bride as Princess Eugenie, the daughter of Prince Andrew, the second son of the Queen (after Prince Charles and Princess Anne), and therefore Her Majesty's granddaughter.

She had just tied the knot with, as it looks to me, some unknown fellow, Jack Brooksbank by name. An aristocrat of some sort, as I tried to scour both the newspaper and the Internet on what he does for a living. All I got was that he is an ambassador for several brands of wine. Whatever that's supposed to mean, one thing for sure, he never got his hands dirty fixing a broken pipe or stood in a muddy trench in search for some frayed cables.

Jack Brooksbank with Princess Eugenie.

Yet the Daily Mail devotes its first seventeen pages to the wedding, plus a further twelve centre pages as a souvenir pullout, making a grand total of 29 pages altogether, which is a typical reflection of our nation's obsession with celebrity. Heavens! Why didn't they make it into a tidy number of thirty pages? But when it comes to crowd attendance, there is quite a significant difference between this Royal wedding and that of Prince Harry and Meghan at the same venue a few months earlier. Harry's wedding had attracted a crowd of 100,000 spectators, whilst this one pulled in only 3,000 onlookers, according to the newspaper. The small fact that Eugenie's nuptials took place on a Friday, and therefore there were many employers unwilling to give their workers a day off, this might well have had a hand in the vast difference of crowd numbers, as Harry was wise enough to marry Meghan on a Saturday.

Am I one of a majority who really couldn't give a damn? A minor Royal had just got hitched, and I was far more interested in the gym workout, followed by a relaxing sauna afterwards. And while I was preparing to row for a full hour on the Concept 2 flywheel machine, three thousand devoted followers lined the street, with just one overnight camper. Personally, I wish them good luck and God's blessing. Although I do wish them well, that's not the point here. Rather, if there is such a country which practically deifies Royalty, it has to be Great Britain. And the English in particular.

It's nothing new of course. Far from it. The Pyramids of ancient Egypt, for example, remains a lasting testimony of the Pharaoh's deification by his loyal subjects. Sometime later the Romans were at it. I believe it was Emperor Augustus who initiated the Pax Romana, which allowed its citizens to live in peace whilst the Empire expanded. Since the Pax Romana is an abstract quality rather than an entity, the idea of worshipping the Emperor as divine suited them well. It was not long before Emperor-worship became compulsory on the penalty of death, which brought problems to the early Christian who insisted that the risen Jesus of Nazareth was God, not the ruling Emperor.

These Roman emperors certainly did not live saintly lives. They tended to murder their own family members in order to ward off any threat of rivalry and to secure their own power. The majority of these ancient rulers also had handsome boys in their bedrooms, what we at present would label as pederasty and paedophilia, such scandals in Her Majesty's Government would shake the very foundations of Parliament. It does look to me that generation after generation of governance under a Christian Constitution has made the churches effective in its role as Salt of the Earth.

Poor John the Baptist! He wasn't so lucky in stemming evil. During the days of his ministry, King Herod successfully wooed his brother's wife while her husband was still alive. And so he rebuked the couple in public, calling their marriage adulterous and a sham. Indeed, after John's arrest and imprisonment, Herod had taken a liking to his captive and even called him up to his palace to hear more on what he had to say, according to Mark 6:20. But John's rebuke failed to bring repentance. He never sent his wife Herodias back to his brother. Instead, he allowed her hatred of the prophet to fester and eventually used her beautiful daughter to lull the king to have John executed.

However, Herod's sin looks to be incredibly mild in comparison to those of the reigning emperors in Rome. Really, Herod's sin wasn't unlike our own perception of marriage, divorce and re-marriage taking place all around us at present. Here in the UK, even under a Christian Constitution, this sort of thing takes place all the time, despite what both Jesus himself and apostle Paul had taught, that he who marries a divorcee commits adultery (Luke 16:18, Romans 7:1-3).

1-hour workout = 6.4 miles, 520 calories and no wedding bore!

Which makes Prince Harry's wedding to Meghan a very awkward issue indeed, since Meghan was a divorcee herself. Therefore, according to John, Jesus and Paul, the marriage between Harry and Meghan stand as an adulterous relationship, yet as many as 100,000 stood to watch the nuptials and giving their blessing, as with the TV and newspaper media.

Then came the news from Northern Ireland that a Christian baker has won a legal victory against two gay men who wanted a cake decorated with a motto advocating same-sex marriage. The two men ordered the cake and were ready to pay for it, but the baker refused to make it, based on his own Christian convictions. So the two men took the baker to Court, but lost the case, mainly due to the fact that same-sex marriage is still illegal in Northern Ireland, unlike the rest of the UK.

Organisations such as Christian Concern has endorsed the baker's legal victory with praise. As with John the Baptist's rebuke to Herod, their loss of the Court case did not bring these two gay men to repentance, but most likely had left them shimmering in bitterness and resentment. And Christian Concern will be celebrating their tenth birthday at the Emmanuel Centre next weekend - the same venue in London where Creation Ministries International held their Conference a month ago.

We were invited by my PhD friend Andrew to go with him to the celebration. At first, I declined the invitation. But when Andrew revealed to me that a connection was possible between declining morals and the rise of Darwinism, a chord was struck within and I had to re-think. I admit that I wasn't keen to push my wife's wheelchair into London all over again after such a short time, with all the transportation problems such a contraption would bring. But I eventually agreed to attend if Andrew was happy for me to go on my own with him. So off we shall go.

But what has brought me to say Not this time initially? Much to do with moral reformation but without the re-birth of the spirit, as the case of Herod and the two gay men shows. Here I try to use empathy here, to try and put myself in their shoes:-

During the Court case, it is repeated over and over again that the issue of the cake is against Christian principles. The Judge sides with the baker and I lose the case. What would I then be thinking? How would I feel? Certainly not warm towards the churches! And as for the faith itself, any credibility it might have had is taken away by the punitive attitude it has. And it's so grossly unfair. It's all very well for a straight preacher, happily married with two children, to stand in front of the pulpit and declare how wicked and evil same-sex relationships are. But he wasn't born that way. And to say that homosexuality is a mere mental condition borne out of choice...well, that's an insult in itself. Why is it then that a vast majority of gays would have preferred to be heterosexual, marry and have children? And why choose to bear the rejection and hostility from mainstream society? Furthermore, why is there a frightening level of suicides among us gays, way above those committed by straights? And that despite that gays consist only 4% of the population?

And my view of God? A punitive monster in the sky who is obsessed with hellfire, and the certainty that all gays will go there. The churches are no better. Nothing more than a house of constant condemnation. And here is the crunch. I can't help being the way I am. For example, I could walk along a street or at a shopping mall. I could be in the office or even a factory shop floor. Or, heaven forbid, I could even be in church. I catch sight of a decent, handsome man. I quickly look away but it's already too late. My heart beats rapidly, nerves cause my muscles to tighten, libido sets in. The trouble is, there is also a higher level of embarrassment if ever he would find out how I felt, or anyone else in the room. Choice? Rather, I'm bound for eternal condemnation, in chains from which I cannot break free. After all, with such a divine monster in the sky - if he exists - how could I possibly turn to him for mercy?

And so that's how the churches and society as a whole would perceive a gay person. I think there is an element of truth in reports written by psychiatrists and psychologists that homosexuals have the least happiness ratio in any society. Not so much because the sexual experience can be so unpleasant, but more likely the feeling of fear of rejection which can include verbal and physical harm.

Although there are churches and para-church organisations such as Christian Concern which can be quite heavy when they come to LGTB issues, it does look to me that they are far from true moral reformation. I can be wrong of course. They testify of God working through them. However, real repentance without regret is a grace which can only come through conversion and regeneration by faith in Jesus, the crucified, buried and Resurrected Christ. Conversion to Jesus Christ as Saviour is the only answer.

And this especially when considering these other issues: Have you ever looked at another person and harboured a secret lust? Then you are an adulterer. Do you have a superior attitude towards another person of inferior status? Are you snobbish? Or hold racist views? Then you are a murderer. Have you ever manipulated your tax return with dishonest intent? Then you are a thief. Have you ever rebelled against your parents? Or shown hostility towards them? Then you have dishonoured them. And in frustration, you shout, Oh for Christ's sake!? Or Jesus Christ Almighty!? Then you are a blasphemer. And even told a white lie? Then you are deceitful. The fact is, where sexuality is concerned, we are all deviants. as the Scriptures says:

There is no one who is righteous, no, not even one.

Psalm 14:1-3, 53:1-3, also Romans 3:10-12.

The trouble with me is, I am no better than any other sinner. I'm just as bad. Therefore to attend a Christian organisation dealing with moral reform but with the lacking emphasis of a faith in Christ, then there are elements of hypocrisy. If ever there was one in deep need of moral reformation, then it is me, especially in my thoughts and motives. Without Christ, I'm lost and without hope. Yet by God's grace, I shall be going. Not to shout from the rooftops that homosexuality and same-sex marriage is wrong, but to learn further where all these worsening moral standards have a connection with Charles Darwin's evolutionary theory.

Apprentice Octopus!

It was our honeymoon in the Autumn of 1999. As my bride Alex was sunbathing on the little stretch of beach at St. Paul's Bay at the coastal resort of Lindos, on the Greek island of Rhodes, I swam with casual ease among rocks protruding from the surface of the warm Mediterranean waters. Just below the surface lurked a live octopus. Whether it was looking out for its next meal or whether it was irritated by my constant presence as I gazed in wonder, I cannot be sure. However, if the creature is as intelligent as marine biologists make out to be, then it's more likely that its irritability was caused by my intrusion into its territory rather than the other way round.

St Paul's Bay, Rhodes.

Watching documentaries about life beneath the waves on television can be quite edifying and a good source of knowledge. But observing by looking at a TV screen would never hold a candle to actually being in the water itself to observe such living creatures, although to be thoroughly honest, when it comes to the Great White Shark, I rather be looking at it on television than finding myself staring face-to-face with one in the open ocean! Then again, today's newspaper is carrying an article about a young British tourist in his twenties, who was fatally bitten by a sea snake off the northern coast of Australia. This particular species of sea snake has one of the highest venom potentials of all snakes, whether marine or land.

There is always an element of risk when sea bathing, whether it's a swim off the pebbly beach at Brighton or diving or snorkelling at the Great Barrier Reef. With Brighton, there is always the risk of rip-tides, where a strong current can take a swimmer out to sea, even a strong swimmer. But at the Great Barrier Reef, one would never know what organism may suddenly strike after its territory so rudely intruded. What I have seen, the sharp teeth of a Moray Eel does look as if it can sever a human arm if it snaps shut at a passing diver. Yet, after being warned by close friends of the dangers of encountering wildlife in warm climes or tropical regions, I returned home safely from both hiking through the desert of the Grand Canyon and from snorkelling at the Great Barrier Reef and at the Red Sea alike.

And from any threats from the octopus. No doubt, far more interested in finding a stray crab than in the presence of an intruding human, biologists have credited the Octopus with a very high level of intelligence, according to TV documentaries. High intelligence? Maybe if I were to keep an octopus in a tank nearby, perhaps it will sort through these high-tech problems occurring on my laptop! However, I do find these marine creatures fascinating. But high intelligence? What I have seen throughout life, I can't see any higher intelligence in the octopus than within the rest of the animal kingdom. After all, is the spider with its intricate web-building instinct less intelligent than the octopus?

When scientists say that a particular species of octopus have higher intelligence, they tend to refer to its evolutionary progress to inherit the ability to change its skin colour instantly to blend into its surroundings in perfect camouflage. This ability, astonishing as it is in my opinion, looks to be from involuntary instinct rather than by conscious calculation. In other words, the octopus does not consciously change its skin colour to suit the oft-changing sea floor. As the creature moves along, its colour changes without any effort by the organism, as if the original work of an intelligent Designer.

According to my own observations, the octopus, like most other living creatures, has to survive in a fallen world where predation holds dominance. Therefore it's no surprise that the Designer had equipped the octopus with a threefold ability for survival - to prey on other lifeforms for sustenance, to keep itself from being prey to another carnivorous creature, and the ability to reproduce. And so, if camouflage is one method needed for its survival, shouldn't this be a testimony for a Designer rather than by evolution by chance and mere natural selection?

And so the octopus became the centre of attention during the opening episode of the BBC television show, The Apprentice, a twelve-part series about entrepreneur Alan Sugar in his search for a business partner to whom he will invest 250,000 pounds towards the business owned by the winning candidate. Sixteen candidates were chosen from thousands of applicants, as a result of tough tests and interviews, including an assessment of each by a Psychiatrist, before the finalists were selected. Therefore all of them, eight men and eight women, are the cream of business acumen, the very backbone of England. 

Their first task involved a flight to Malta to purchase nine items which reflected the island's culture. One of the items included on the list was "an octopus with a 40-inch hose."

So the whole of the two teams flew out to Malta for the one day. Whilst escorted to the airport, one of the females asked, Where is Malta? Oh dear. Here is a rising professional, upon her the future of our country's economy will be dependent on, not knowing where Malta is? If I had been there with her, I probably would have answered, it's on this planet, dear!

Once landed on the South Mediterranean island, the men did take off their jackets but kept their shirts firmly buttoned and their ties fully done up. But to be fair to them, the filming was most likely done in the Spring, when the average Maltese temperature was about 17 degrees Celsius - not exactly sunburn weather. So appeared a team of what used to be called Yuppies (an acronym for Young Urban Professional). The Yuppie was the creme-de-la-creme of English City society back in the eighties when Conservative leader Margaret Thatcher - the first ever UK's female Prime Minister - was in power, and the sharply dressed Yuppie, with his astonishing wealth made so quickly over weeks rather than years or even months, was sometimes referred to as Thatcher's Children. And so, thirty years on, here they are, trying to get to grips with their new environment.

Lord Sugar included an octopus with a forty-inch hose on their shopping list. All the candidates were stunned by the request. This item was passed over by the women, one of several omissions which cost them the task. But the eight men were determined to include the octopus with their other purchases. Had I been there with them, I would have immediately realised that these eight-legged marine creatures don't have forty-inch hoses. Therefore I would have concluded there and then that the item was to be some man-made device bearing the same name, the conclusion I had right from the start whilst watching the programme.

Lord Sugar was referring to this.

The team had no knowledge of diving between all eight of them. Not one of them had any idea that a piece of diving equipment was referred to. And to be honest and fair, I have no knowledge on specific diving equipment either, even though I went on an actual dive at Rhodes during our honeymoon. There I was fitted with the appropriate equipment, including the octopus, by a supervisor without being told the detail of each piece of equipment.

Therefore, not knowing what an octopus is, and not permitted to Google the term either, I would have thought that having a marine name and a hose to go with it, all I had to do was walk into a shop which either sells fishing tackle or a dealer in diving equipment. It would have been risky, but making a fool of myself due to lack of knowledge - well, there was no other option. Real octopuses don't have 40" hoses! Therefore what would have been the outcome? 

I believe that the dealer in fishing tackle would have explained to me what an octopus is, and then directed me to the dive equipment shop. Or if it was the diving store I first walked into, the assistant would have placed several brands of the breathing device on the counter in front of me. A purchase is then made.

But what did these 'yuppie' friends do instead? Yes, they chose a fishmonger and in there, they spoke with an almost unbearable level of arrogance and ended up with buying a real dead octopus! They even had the "hose" measured, which was less than one inch in length when stretched. No matter. The item must be bagged.

The actual scene from The Apprentice, in Malta.

And the point in all this? Incredibly amusing. And perhaps shocking too. These men are our future business leaders, and post-Brexit Britain will depend on their skills to stabilise the economy. But as a retired window cleaner and most likely considered as not very clever or academic, I do feel that I could have done better, at least with this octopus gadget anyway. Like the time when I was guest at the home of a middle-class family of four, where both sons were due to attend university. After lunch, we were all engaged in a General Knowledge quiz board game. Much to my surprise, I managed to beat them. Then there was another middle-class professional couple with whom I played Scrabble. I have defeated them too, along with others where knowledge is part of the game, although to balance the books, I will admit being defeated several times by an adolescent young enough to be my son in a game of Trivial Pursuit.

Post-Brexit Britain, the creme-de-la-creme of English society, the backbone of Britain, such makes up many a Christian church here in the UK. But as a Christian, I do have very close friends who voted to leave the EU, but I don't allow this to get between us (as you might have already guessed: I voted to remain in the EU). Therefore it can be said that I have friends and Christian brothers among those who voted to leave the European Union as well as those who voted to remain. Yet through the power of Christ within us, we remain close.

It is a case when Christian fellowship should cover over differences of political opinion, and dare to say, I have friends in churches who also believe in Theistic Evolution instead of Divine Creation as described in the Bible. And that, I believe, is what God's desire for all mankind is all about. The friendship between us that is, without compromising on my convictions. First be reconciled to God, having all his sins forgiven, acquitted, regenerated, and being led by the Holy Spirit dwelling within. And all this can only come through faith in Jesus Christ, his death on the Cross, his burial, and his Resurrection.

I suppose The Apprentice is just the opposite, in a sense a representation of Darwinianism. The survival of the fittest, the elimination of the weakest candidate. And each week there will always be the weakest candidate and he or she has to go. I guess, rather than evolution, it represents natural selection. True enough, but neither man or woman actually evolves. There will never be some kind of superhuman working with Lord Sugar. Instead, the entire series is nothing more than the struggle between candidates for survival - in this case, to remain in the process. Even within team co-ordination, disagreements arise which can lead to verbal fights, although I have yet to see an actual physical fight. That would make the whole programme very colourful, would it not?

I think programmes such as The Apprentice is fun to watch. Could there be something within us, a longing desire to see some very proud and arrogant would-be professional facing humiliation in view of the whole nation? The crass stupidity shown especially by the men when they entered en bloc into a fishmonger's and then deliver a lecture about an octopus with a 40" hose, has surely tickled our fancy. Surely, the very puzzlement shown by the fishmonger should have been a clear enough signal that something is not right here. But such blindness and crass stupidity combined with unadulterated pride, self-confidence, and arrogance reveal a hole in each of their hearts which only the Resurrected Christ can fill.