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Thursday 29 December 2011

Uncomplaining eunuchs


Isaiah is my favourite prophet, maybe because in the midst of his grim message of judgment he also abounds with positivity; his vision sparkles of a renewed Zion; one day the sun will shine again on God’s people – and when it does what a glorious day it will be. And here, in the midst of Isaiah, so full of mysteries, I find another mystery. It is the word about eunuchs (just bear in mind that any priest with impaired sexual organs was not allowed to serve in the temple in the days of Isaiah.)  


“And let no eunuch complain,
   “I am only a dry tree.”
 For this is what the LORD says:
To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths,
   who choose what pleases me
   and hold fast to my covenant —
 to them I will give within my temple and its walls
   a memorial and a name
   better than sons and daughters;
I will give them an everlasting name
   that will endure forever.
Isaiah 56:3, 4, 5

I’ve always thought this refers to celibates. After all, Jesus spoke of His followers making themselves eunuchs ‘for the sake of the kingdom’ (‘denying sexual activity and partnership for the sake of’- Matthew 19:11-12. )

 A memorial – a sort of plaque or memorial stone placed on the wall so people can be remembered and honoured forever? I think of my trips around Westminster Abbey in past years where the names and deeds of the most highly acclaimed and notable of the land are enshrined for ensuing generations to remember. And a place ‘better than sons and daughters – what on earth does that mean? The only thing closer than sons and daughters is a lover or partner. Maybe that’s it. I really don’t know. Celibates will have a place of great everlasting honour, a relationship with God that is very, very intimate – where?  In the very temple of God, the heart of the heart of the place where God dwells – his church and highest heaven. O to be a faith-filled, uncomplaining ‘eunuch!’

Saturday 17 December 2011

One more day in the life of ..

Note: I never use people’s real names:
Tuesday .. an early start as Dave shares his tears and feelings of dejection of yesterday along with a CV improvement; going through First Steps (a booklet explaining what it means to be a Christian) with Balbir, a Sikh with lots of questions and more than an interest in Christianity; just as we are finishing a lady who has just begun classes this week comes in needing a pair of shoes (she has only been in the country five weeks.) Unfortunately there are no ladies’ shoes in our store today. Then Mikhail wants some help as he is mastering a few computer skills (hard work but he is getting there now); then two beginner readers arrive at 12:30. This is pleasure as one of them is my most–grateful Chinese friend; today we read and write ‘I am at the class;’ yes, and he looks so pleased as he leaves; a quick lunch over brotherhood (team get-together at 1:30pm each Tuesday) and then ‘English for Work, with a fair amount of hilarity (I was acting out what the word ‘unreliable’ means .. I usually end up acting to explain unknown words) and finally … home to agapé  (love feast) … the haven of brotherhood … much needed too. Where else do we find, except there, the fuel and fire needed .. for another day?

Wednesday 14 December 2011

In from the cold

Minus 15 o. I remember it so well, the sub-zero night temperatures of last winter’s bitter spell; I remember, too, as I  lay back on my pillow, enjoying the luxury of a central-heated flat, how my thoughts dwelt on those I knew who were sleeping rough; how could they ever survive? One such man was a 60 year old Czech, Mikhail, (not his real name) who I knew was sleeping in a tent by the canal. Mercifully, at that time, after a short stay in hospital, the consultant had allowed him to stay a little longer when he heard where he was living.

It’s good news now, in fact, very good news. Mikhail has got a temporary home at least these days. More than that, he has turned from his atheism and decided to become a Christian. He was baptised last night – a really great occasion. God really can turn people’s lives around. I hope that he has not only come in from the winter’s cold; he has come in from the raw and isolating chill of loneliness and found the warmth of family, God’s family. After all, that’s our calling – love for Jesus – love for one another – love for those who God brings along our path – forging family – in short, to express the warmth, the drawing heat, of Jesus-love. If we get that right, well, things are looking up and I reckon we enjoy God’s smile.

Sunday 4 December 2011

Don’t be sorry

One thing visitors at the Jesus centre love to ask is, ‘How many kids have you got?’ Well, I’m a respectable (fairly), grey-haired, middle-aged teacher and so it’s most likely I’m married to some respectable well-paid geyser and, anyway, I wear a silver ring on my left finger – perhaps a bit misleading. Well, this week it happened again, Monday in fact. Two Eritrean Christian refugees asked the old question: ‘How many kids have you got?’  ‘None, actually.’ …. embarrassed silence… me adding, ‘I’m not actually married either.’   ‘O I’m ..er ..er ..sorry..’ to have asked, they said. ‘Don’t be sorry,’ I said cheerfully and blurted out, perhaps a bit to my surprise, ‘I actually am a Christian celibate; this is the way I have chosen and I am very happy. I live a bit like, well ….you know, nuns and monks? .. A little bit like them.’

Maybe I should wear the ring on the other finger. Bygone days, less grey hair, you know, a few blokes just hanging in there, hoping in vain .. I did it for a little self protection but these things don’t happen so much as you get older (relief – there are advantages in age.) No, I think I’ll keep it on the left. Why not? And after all, what a great conversation point.

Friday 2 December 2011

Won't forget that smile

It’s only the second time it has happened in my ten year teaching life – one of our students has died. Jane (not her real name) came to ‘Your Learning’ at Coventry Jesus Centre to learn the computer – and she was really keen. She hardly said anything but her body language and the little smile that crept across her face from time to time told me she was enjoying herself. Her husband Rick (not his real name and also who very sadly died) told me she loved learning at the Jesus Centre because when she got home she made up for lost time and talked and talked about it.

When I heard Jane had died I set off walking on my own to reflect. Had the time I spent with her been a waste of time? No, no, of course not. Our lives only crossed for a short time – just like so many others in our busy lives. And yet, reflecting, I sensed that nothing, nothing is wasted if it is done for Jesus and for those who He described as ‘the least,’ the weakest, the most vulnerable, of His brethren – and I think that probably includes us all.

 Indeed, I believe, every act of Jesus-love is eternal; moments pass by and we forget, yet something eternal is ‘grown’ – wonderful, wonderful, eternal fruit. I’m not enjoying that now but, Rick and Jane, I know you are. What comfort!

Thursday 1 December 2011

Heartfelt ‘Thank yous’

A smiling Chinese man came for the first time to the ‘English for Work ESOL’ course at the Jesus Centre. I was giving the class a short spelling exercise and I noticed the English script meant nothing to him at all. Quietly, after the session, I drew him on one side: “Would - you – like - me - to - teach - you - to - read?” I said very slowly with gesticulations. His face lit up. He speaks very little English – and I mean that; actually he understands very little either.

So today we began c-a-t, d-o-g, s-a-t. It was a start. At the end my new friend grabbed me by the hand twice over and, smiling broadly, said ‘thank you’ – a word he knew. It was one of the heartiest handshakes and ‘thanks yous’ I have ever had in my life. “See you next week,” I said. Yes, certainly, I’ll be looking forward to that.

Wednesday 30 November 2011

Proud Pharisees and English prisons

“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get. ‘But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” Luke 18:10-14

My young African friend came today. ‘Life is boring without God,’ He said. ‘I want to know more about Him.’ ‘Let’s read about the Pharisee and the tax collector,’ I said. Now, he didn’t know what a Pharisee or a tax collector was so I explained. I explained the word ‘conceited;’ he hadn’t heard that one before. I explained, too, that the tax collector was also most likely a thief.

My young friend talks out his thoughts to me. ‘Yes, Miss Julia, when I lived in ……….. I got into fighting and went to court. The judge had mercy on me. He told me I was young and naïve and had a girlfriend to look after. He let me off. Then I did the same thing a second time; I got into fighting again.  I found myself before the same judge again. Again he let me off. When it happened the third time, the judge send me to prison. Yes, Miss Julia, that judge showed me mercy.’

 ‘Samson’ (not his real name) I said, ‘God is like that. If we ask Him for mercy, He will give it to us.’

 ‘Yes,’ said Samson wisely, ‘but not if we keep on doing bad.’ I haven’t got to teach him much …. I think the Holy Spirit has got there first.

Saturday 26 November 2011

Fatted chickens, hungry beggars and unlikely Samaritans

A young African refugee sometimes comes to our meetings at the Jesus Centre. ‘Please explain to me, Miss Julia, about Christianity,’ he said the other day, ‘I don’t get what it’s all about.’ 

He’s really keen to learn, this young friend of mine, and we’ve started reading parables together. He’s just had an elementary education and reading in English doesn’t come that easy – but he’s doing well. I love it! I’m so familiar with these stories but seeing them through a young African‘s eyes can put a different light on things. Well .. the fatted calf … yes, I get it,’ he exclaims, ‘In Africa we have the fatted chicken for special guests!’

Last week we read the story of the poor beggar man Lazarus (and, believe me, my young African friend has seen poverty I have never seen.) Jesus, shockingly – and not the best story to tell while your listeners are eating - describes the plight of a poor disabled man, malnourished and incapable of work, who has to be carried to the gates at the end of the drive of a rich man to beg. His skin has erupted in boils, showing serious signs of malnourishment. Although the rich man lives in luxury, eating well and is clothed in the most expensive of clothes he does little to feed the poor man and nothing to clothe him or tend his skin. The latter is left for the hungry dogs who lick his sores – even they show more compassion than the rich man.

 In time both men die. Lazarus is taken to a place of comfort, no longer lying on a street corner but resting in a place of greatest honour - Abraham’s lap. Roles are reversed: the rich man is hungry and thirsty now and his place of torment exceeds anything Lazarus suffered in this life – it is hell itself. Now it is his turn to beg. Lazarus’s begging in his life has fallen on deaf ears. Abraham, from afar off (for there is a great chasm between), does hear but there is nothing he can do. ‘Send Lazarus to my brothers,’ the rich man cries, ‘Let him warn them that they must mend their ways so they do not end up here! Surely they will believe Lazarus’s testimony if he rises from death; after all he has seen these eternal realities first hand.’

 Abraham, with kindness replies, ‘If their hearts are hard on earth and they do not listen to the law and prophets that tell us to care for the poor man at our gate, it will make no difference even if someone was to rise from the dead and tell them.’

The story would have been shocking, even revolting, to Jesus’ hearers, especially as the villain was a well-to-do Jew. Yet, in our western eyes, he is no villain actually - he didn’t do anything bad – he just didn’t do anything!

Jesus of Nazareth – you’re practical. You told us we got to do something. I hope I get it.

We read the Good Samaritan next. I was happy when we finished the story and had talked about the behaviour of the three men on that lonely Jericho Road and my young friend turned to me and said, ‘Miss Julia, that’s you! Helping me read, you have been like the Samaritan to me!’ 

Thursday 24 November 2011

Hello: this is Jules' blog: 'Diamonds in the Rough'

Garth Hewitt's song, 'We saw Beauty in the Ashes' has got to be one of my top favourites  - a beautiful expression of how some of the best, most beautiful riches (kingdom people)  are found on what some might term 'life's scrap heap.' All I  know is that Jesus would have felt very at home there. And, 'learning from the poor,' - for me, never a truer word.

 
We saw beauty in the ashes
We saw treasure in the dust
We saw joy come out of mourning
We saw diamonds in the rough
And though the image may look broken
We saw Jesus shining through
And on each forgotten feature
He was writing ‘I love you’

Come and stand with the broken
Come and learn from the poor
Take the side of those forgotten
Let the image be restored

As the poverty of riches
Leaves us stranded on the shore
Where the rising tide of selfishness
Will leave us thirsty evermore
Our image of those in poverty
Must be broken once for all
To see the beauty in their lives
To hear the good news from the poor

Come and walk the road with Jesus
On the side of the oppressed
Come and stand inside the kingdom
Where the story is redressed
And though our image looks so broken
Jesus still says, ’Follow Me’
And give yourselves for others
And live in simplicity


Garth Hewitt: Word Music