The Parable of the trees

This is a prophecy that a friend heard given in a song a few years ago which I found challenging:

"Once there was a wood in the which all the trees enjoyed the wind blowing through their branches. As the wind blew they would sway bending before every gust. Twigs, branches and trunks all responded as it moved through the wood.

Then one day the wind stopped blowing. The trees waited but the wind did not return. Day after day they waited and waited, but still the wind did not blow. After many days the trees began to talk amongst themselves wondering what they could do. They really missed the excitement of the wind rushing through the wood and the way it made them move. An older tree said that there had been times before when the wind had not blown, but that it had always returned. It encouraged them to keep on waiting until the wind blew again, promising that it would.

Most of the trees however did not want to wait and kept discussing what they could do. Finally, one tree suggested that they could make themselves move just as if the wind was blowing. At first the other trees said it was impossible, but they were persuaded to try. At first they could do nothing, but with a lot of concentration they learned to make their smallest twigs tremor just a little. Months went by and the wind did not blow, but the trees became more confident as next bigger twigs and then whole branches began to sway to and fro. Finally, they learned how to make their trunks bend as if the there was a strong wind pushing them back and forwards. The younger trees were over joyed, but the old tree wasn't so enthusiastic, it warned that this movement, as exciting as it was, was not the real thing.

More time went by and the wind still did not blow, and the trees in the wood continued to make themselves sway as if the wind was blowing. Then one day they heard a sound they had almost forgotten. It was the sound of the wind moving through their branches, and as it did those branches began to sway in a way they had not done for a very long time. Then the wind blew stronger and stronger until it became a gale which was blowing so hard that their trunks were bending before it and branches were breaking off. In the midst of the chaos one of the younger trees asked the old tree what was happening. The old tree replied with a smile that this was the real thing. It was dangerous, but it was the real thing."

Struggling with Marian devotion

'With the Muslims, as soon as you mention Mary, there is a notable change in attitude: there is an atmosphere of piety, of silence, of brotherhood... Some might see this as a kind of syncretism. But in fact, devotion is a phenomenon that is open to all... And if I, as I pray to Our Lady, see a Muslim praying next to me, what's the problem? On the contrary: it is a great comfort because devotion is a far stronger foundation for a relationship and friendship than ideological, political or cultural bonds. Those who think the of Christian faith in an exclusive way, as do some Catholic traditionalists, have yet to fully understand Christianity.'

From: here

It's as I read stuff like that from a Roman Catholic I am reminded of why Evangelicals take great exception to parts of Catholicism; if Muslims are able to hide from the challenge of Jesus as God by their devotion to Mary, and the church is enabling this deception, the Muslims are being short changed by the church. There is 'devotion'  but the question is whether they are actually worshipping the true God, or some other god who has dressed himself in the robes of Mary. The question that I would offer is: 'If that were true, how would things look different from what we are presently seeing?'

Elijah destroys the soldiers sent to arrest him

Today's lectionary readings are for the feast of St James the Apostle, and offer the story of Elijah calling down fire on the soldiers sent to bring him to the king (2 Kings 1.9-15) as well as the story of James and John suggesting a similar fate for the Samaritan village that had refused Jesus hospitality (Luke 9.46-56). The cheap interpretation is that God doesn't do things like Elijah did any more. However this is to ignore the prophecy that the two witness of Revelation will do likewise: 'If anyone tries to harm them, fire comes from their mouths and devours their enemies. This is how anyone who wants to harm them must die' (Rev 11:5). I leave it to my more liberal brethren to offer an explanation of what this pericope refers to if it isn't a future literal event in Jerusalem, remembering the consequence of cutting out the bits of Revelation that you don't like (Rev 22:19)

And as a final comment: note the way that the soldiers get killed for their involvement in the attempt to arrest Elijah. God, it seems, doesn't go for 'I was only following orders' as a justification...

In the church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem

[Visiting 'the most sacred place for Christians', it is inevitable that one will be struck by the vast range of responses to God that are seen within the church; this word follows from that observation.]

'Of truth, of reality, you can only know what I reveal, what I choose to share. You are called to be faithful, to live in the light that I have shone into your life and so grow in true health, because I am the true physician whose prescriptions are wholesome.

'Walk gently then when another presents their truth - test to see if it is of me, expressing my truth in a way that you find alien. Do not be deceived: there are deceptions rampant in the world that will lead many astray. Do not be afraid to challenge the one who overtly rejects that which the scriptures affirm unambiguously. But if the point is at an angle, in a different form, then listen for my story, my call, in that: it may be their means of healing.'

At Gothenberg Design Museum

[I'm currently on a 7 week trip northern Europe. Visiting the Gothenberg Design museum, my eye was caught by a statue of the Chinese Warrior god Guan Tu. Stuck in a darkened room where noone pays it any attention anymore, I felt God say:]

'Fallen, fallen are the gods of the Wast, the ones that oppressed millions for so many centuries. My light has come, but many choose anything else, that will allow them to do as they want - to choose the way of rebellion that is broad and comfortable - but leads to destruction

'Be aware: there is a spiritual battle in all lands. When one deity falls, another will arise. In England the deity of respectability fell in the 1960s - instead many chose their own way. Now you are in a time of disruption as new gods demand the worship of the sheep: the sheep whom my church has lost because they too came to worship at the temple of respectability - in their case intellectual respectability. But such ways are defective - because my grace, my spirit blows where He wills: to try to impose a model is to miss my way.

A Christian case against Father Christmas

Justin Peters shows why Christians should avoid the myth of Father Christmas

This quote is fascinating:
 "I remember vividly the day my Mom told my sister and me that there was no Santa. I can see the scene in my mind’s eye even now, sitting at our kitchen table in some ugly
yellow and green 70’s era chairs and Mom looking down at the table telling us there was
no Santa. It did not come as a surprise to me. I had pretty much figured it out already.
I had heard that there were (at the time) almost 6 billion people in the world and though
I didn’t know exactly how big of a number that was, I was pretty confident it was too
many homes for Santa to visit in one night. I can remember my first thought, though:
‘My parents lied to us. What about what they’re telling me about God?’ That was
genuinely my very first thought.

How God reached a 12 year old

[This is an expanded version of a testimony given by an 18 year old in my church that tells how God became real in his life. What is striking is that he is now, after all these years, clearly going on with God; this was a life changing event. I hope it's of interest]

 

This is the final remark in the diary of my then fifteen-year-old sister the day I became a Christian.

22/04/05: ...praise the Lord coz he was with my brother all the way.

My sister showed me the full entry a couple of weeks ago. I consider what happened to me every day, but these words really struck me.

As with a lot cheesy testimonies, the story really starts when I was only a few years old, though I became a Christian when I was twelve. I was not a happy child. We had a variety of troubles at home. Though in retrospect I feel fortunate to have had, and still have, two parents who have a strong marriage, at the time I felt that I was very unfortunate. I didn’t see much of my Dad; I remember sleeping next to my mum, where he usually slept, when he was away. In fact, it’s my earliest memory. But I want to be clear, my Dad is a good man, and he wasn’t entirely responsible for how I was feeling. I was also bullied every day at school. I have very few memories of my primary school, but the majority of what I can remember is not particularly happy. Consequently I spent much of my childhood wrongly presuming that I was unloved. I knew my Mum loved me, but I felt that that didn’t really count for much. As a result of this, I didn’t love myself. While I often came across as arrogant – a weakness that I still suffer today – I hated myself. I would get incredibly angry about the most insignificant occurrences, sometimes culminating in my breaking things. I was probably very scary to live with, and I knew that. This only strengthened me in my convictions that no one loved me.

In 2004 I started high school. For a short while, the bullying stopped. I think everyone was too busy becoming accustomed to everything. After the first term, it started again, and I spiralled into depression. I went to church, reluctantly; my family were all Christians. Before this point I had concluded that if there was a God, I hated Him: I thought that if He existed, He must enjoy watching people suffer. For this reason it makes my actions over the next few weeks an even greater mystery to me: I would lie awake in bed at night considering different ways that I could not only get positive attention from my peers at school, but also ways that God could prove to me that He exists, and that He loves me. I came to the decision that getting hit by a car, and surviving, would kill two birds with one stone, as it were. I remember challenging God, quite flippantly, commanding Him to save my life.

On the night of 21^st April 2005, I once again fantasised about getting hit by a car. However, the daydream I had was far more vivid than the previous ones. I could see everything in immense detail. And for the first time ever I could see cars around me, and an ambulance. It was near a pedestrian crossing: there were people in the uniforms of my school around me; an ambulance was facing the wrong way on the road; there was a blonde haired woman, standing next to a brown haired woman, looking down at me; I was lying on the road, with blood pouring from my head, which was resting upon a white coat; there were two cars at the scene - one was a large green MPV, the other a silver SUV. Ordinarily, only one car would stop, of course - the one that was involved in the collision – so the fact that there were two cars was particularly remarkable to me. Amazing as this was at the time; I quickly fell asleep afterwards, and forgot all about it.

The next morning my vision was a bit like a dream that you can only vaguely remember after you wake up. As usual, I was late to meet my friend Arun, so I walked particularly quickly towards Kingsway to cross. When I arrived at the curb, I saw that there were cars coming towards me, but I decided that I needed to cross if I wanted to avoid a detention. So I started running. First, I dodged a particularly large car – a green MPV - but there are two lanes on Kingsway, it’s a dual carriageway. In the next lane there was a silver SUV. When I saw it, I immediately thought I was going to die. My life didn’t flash before my eyes. It didn’t happen in slow motion like it does in films. All I can remember is seeing that car coming in my direction very quickly indeed.

I cannot describe to you how happy I was when I woke up. It was, however, slightly bittersweet as I was rolling down the road, smacking my already damaged head on the tarmac as I went. I stopped rolling, and stood up. Immediately I felt an intense pain in my lower back, I had probably landed on it when I fell. I shouted in pain, “Argh! My back!” and dropped to the floor. I heard a scream as someone got out of the car that hit me: a blonde-haired woman, called Linda. Directly to the right of me, a brown-haired woman arrived, followed by Linda, my head of year, who had been driving the MPV. They called for an ambulance, which couldn’t come down the road in the right direction: there was far too much stopped traffic, so it ended up arriving the wrong way down the road! My vision had become reality. I began to come to terms with what had happened. I remembered my daydreams and the challenge I had put to God. Immediately I knew He was there, and He’d saved me. 

When I arrived at the hospital, the Doctor described how I was probably hit by the wing-mirror, otherwise I wouldn’t have survived. He also said that had I been hit two inches to the right, in my temple, my skull would have been crushed. On top of all this, he said I must have fainted before I was hit , meaning that had I fainted any earlier, I would have been crushed under the back wheel. If I had fainted later than I did, I would have been crushed under the front wheels. His exact words were (excuse the expletive) ‘You were bloody lucky, mate.’ The precautionary x-ray revealed that I didn’t have any broken or fractured bones. I walked out of the hospital just hours after I went in, bearing superficial injuries; though my older sister said I looked like Frankenstein's monster: I remember watching TV wearing sunglasses for a few weeks afterwards, which I found amusing. I was back at school two weeks afterwards, and when I got there, a crowd circled me, asking me questions about what happened. I got the attention that I craved. No one bullied me for months afterwards.

I think it’s fair to say that no one has every fainted on Kingsway in front of cars going 30-40mph and come away so unscathed. In simple terms, it could’ve happened a thousand times, and I would still be extremely unlikely to survive once. That’s what I think about now, six years later. I never think about the vision, because I convince myself that I’ve remembered wrong, because it seems too incredible to be true. I think to myself how God took my consciousness at the exact moment it needed to happen, how He designed me specifically for that moment to fall in the way that I did, at the speed that I did. God has loved me since before time itself, and He proved that to me on the 22^nd April 2005, at 8.35am, and He’s proved it time and time again throughout my life. He gave me the strength to forgive the bullies, and now some of them are among my very best friends. The issues of my childhood have disappeared. God remains faithful to me, and my family. My sister didn’t realise when she wrote it, but I believe she was unintentionally writing a deeply philosophical and theological statement about the nature of God: the fact that He is faithful, and He is with us all 'all the way'