Where is home?

‘Home is where the heart is’. How often have we heard this expression when being reassured that our physical surroundings are not necessarily vital? Working for many years with TCKs (Third Culture Kids) whose passport identity hardly matched the reality of where they were born or where they had spent much of their life, I recall many a conversation about where home really was. (Tip: never ask a TCK ‘where are you from?’ unless you want to cause significant introspection!) I am a TCK – born in Nigeria, brought up in Ghana and schooled in Scotland – and I know something of what it is to wonder where home is.

Some of you will have seen the Oscar-winning film, ‘Nomadland’, and no doubt others hope to return soon to seeing it on the big screen in a cinema. Spoiler alert… The central character, Fern, wrestles with the idea of home. She has lost husband, job and house but insists she is not homeless, just house less. ‘Home, is it just a word? Or is it something you carry within you?’ is the refrain in the film.

For all the sense of community, generosity and beauty of nature experienced by the characters in the film (and many are real life modern nomads), there is little sense of the Hope Christians have of life after death – merely a vague sense of afterlife. Christians have confidence in a glorious homecoming to our real ‘passport country’, where a place has been prepared for us. Let’s do what we can to share this Hope with others as we journey through our nomadic life on earth.

(With thanks to an article by Rachel Smith for LICC)

Check-Mate?

Last week we had Budget Day – the day when we trust that the Chancellor of the Exchequer will lay out plans for us as individuals and as a nation to emerge from this pandemic with a hope and a future amidst the debt and the devastation wrought upon us by COVID-19. For the world, for us all, this past year has been a tribulation: a time when we have felt in exile from our normal state of being and how we relate one with the other.

The prefix ‘ex’ can often imply ‘deliverance’ or ‘fleeing from’ – coming out of where we have been. The Exodus in the Old Testament was a positive freedom from slavery in Egypt and a moving towards a Land of Promise in Canaan. The Exile, however, many generations later spelt a time for the Israelites of being banished from one’s own land, resulting from their repeated transgression against the plans and laws of God, given as a manual for successful living as Kingdom people.

We might wonder whether there are ‘tax exiles’ or promises of ‘getting out of a fix’ when we reflect upon the etymology for ‘Exchequer.’ But not so: the word comes from the Old French ‘eschequier’ meaning a ‘chessboard’ or ‘chequered board,’ and woven into this is also writ the meaning of ‘reckoning.’ We can in our own mind’s eye envisage the board that we have inherited this year where there are fewer players, many others having fallen by the wayside and others embattled and reckoning with ‘check mate’ mentally, emotionally, economically and physically.

It was whilst the Jews were in exile that the prophet Jeremiah proclaimed God’s words: ‘that when the seventy years are completed in Babylon, I will come to you and fulfil my gracious promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans that I have for you: plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’

After such a year, we might well be feeling that our own chessboard has been decimated, and there is nothing that any Chancellor can produce out of a hat to right the wrongs, heal the hurts and mend the chequered past that we may have endured. Yet the real hope for those of faith is that as we travel through the desert of Lent and towards the cross of Easter, that God always has the last word – that nothing is too great for him to overcome and redeem. But he first gently whispers the additional words after the above promise: ‘call upon me, pray…seek me and find me when you seek with all your heart.’

We do not know the move of our Great High Chancellor of the Exchequer Above – His moves, like some players on the chessboard, may not be predictable by us mortals – they may move sideways and backwards before moving forward, but our faith assures us that He is the one who holds the plans and it is we who are challenged to trust that He knows our futures – ‘plans for good and not for evil’: those plans, we can be assured, will be for us ‘ex-ce-Lent’ as we call, pray and seek Him.

(With thanks to Revd Alex Aldous, Chaplain at Prestfelde Prep School)

Heartbreak

It was on this day (27th January), 65 years ago, that the King of Rock, Elvis Presley, released his first million-selling single ‘Heartbreak Hotel,’ achieving the accolade of reaching the ‘top five’ of Country and Western, pop and Rhythm and Blues simultaneously. The lyrics were inspired by a recorded tragedy of a man jumping from a hotel window through jilted love.

‘At Heartbreak Hotel
Where I’ll be–where I get so lonely, baby
Well, I’m so lonely
I get so lonely, I could die.’

As we are all aware, loneliness, this lockdown, has reached epidemic proportions and the homes that people have been confined to through ongoing restrictions have indeed become their Heartbreak Hotels: hearts that have been broken, through not reuniting with friends and loved ones they crave to embrace and hold and have the simplest of conversations with. The ‘Hotels’ may quarantine the body but never the mind, heart and soul. The Psalmist stated that ‘the Lord planted the lonely in families’ but it has become the Hotel of Discomfort that has separated them again and as we daily imbibe our news updates, we share the anguish of all who are in isolation.

It seems almost trite to provide easy religious messages to massage the pain that so many are enduring, but as humans created for intimate relationship, it would be wrong also not to point people back to our Lord. He it was who Himself endured loneliness, not just in coming to this earth, or in the misunderstanding of those who claimed to follow Him, but on the cross when He experienced the desolation of the Father abandoning him – why? so that we could be reunited with Him. It is the cry from numerous psalms that it is in our human desolation and out of our depths – brought on by any number of circumstances – that we call out and look up. It is as we are still before God that we are reminded that He, who knew anguish of soul, is the One who stands by us at the very worst of times. How do we know this? Because it was not only in His becoming like one of us and sharing our experience of humanity in all its glory and its degradation, but through the work of reconciliation on the cross that He restores, comforts and reminds us that we are not alone. Nothing about us, nor how we feel about ourselves or our condition can separate us from the love of God, and it is the promise of His holy and indwelling Spirit that He gives to us – the pre-eminent Comforter – that reminds us that we are not alone.

The monument to Presley’s hit, ‘Heartbreak Hotel,’ stood for thirty years in Memphis, but it was torn down to make room for the new Guest House at Graceland – now there’s a parable! We are all, as humans, welcomed into His house and habitation of Grace, but he does not call us His guests, but as friends for ever: the ‘Heartbreak’ for Him is that not more of us welcome the move.

(Reproduced by kind permission of Revd Alex Aldous, Prestfelde School chaplain)

The Inauguration of the 46th

The 46 degree halo is a rare member of the family of ice crystal halos, appearing as a large ring central on the sun, with light entering one side of the crystal and exiting from another. Whether the 46^th President sees himself and his inauguration in such a light and whether this day heralds a new era of transparency, reflection and refraction remains to be seen. What is certain is that the eyes of the world will be beaming down upon him and expect something iridescent in return. It would be a great reassurance if, in the back of Joe Biden’s mind, if not articulated in person, were the words on the lips of JF Kennedy exactly forty years ago: ‘Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.’

At a time across our world where we have needed State and government intervention like never before, it might seem unpopular, and indeed cruel, not to ask for our country to respond to need and to those in dire straits. However, it is in those times when men and women are in a state most perilous, that the light can shine brightest. We have been privileged to witness over past months many acts of courage and fortitude in the face of danger – most noticeably in our hospitals and in care homes where men and women have put themselves at the utmost risk to save lives and are shining forth, amidst sacrificial sweat and tears. For all of us, there may be challenges in the home, in the virtual school, and in relationships we have, which may seem overbearing at times. We have grown up in a culture in the West where we have expected the Nanny State to look after us, and yet it is in digging deep, when life is at its most raw that we can ask again – what can we do for our country? What can we do for our community and the neighbours living next to us?

It is the 46^th chapter of the New Testament, Luke 2, that we have the birth story of our Lord Jesus, where mother and father are near the end of their tether at the end of a long journey to register for the census, rewarded only with a stable as a bed. It is just near there that the angelic glory shone around those bedraggled shepherds and it drives these ordinary countryfolk to identify with their Lord and show support – and what was the result? They went back to their fields glorifying and praising God for all that they’d seen – such is the reward for those who seek to serve and find. For me, in hard times, when up against it, I have often fled to the psalms and particularly to Psalm 46 which shines out more than any crystal that the world affords: ‘God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble…be still and know that I am God…the Almighty …is our fortress.’ May those words be true for those across the Pond on this auspicious day, who claim ‘In God we trust’, whether Democrat or Republican. May it also be true for us whatever stance we may take in life, as we are open to the Sun of Righteousness shining through to bring His halo of love and light in the darkest of places: that indeed can and will bring an inauguration of something new for all of us in time to come… if we give him permission.

(Reproduced with kind permission of Rev Alex Aldous, school chaplain)

The Beautiful Game?

End of the season

And so we have reached the end of the English Premier League season – almost a year on from when it started. It turned out to be the longest season ever but won in almost the shortest time by Liverpool FC – and with nearly the highest points total (99) of all time. My wife and I have just won our family’s Fantasy Football league (of 10 sides) and wrested the trophy (a rather over large tea mug) from our younger daughter. It was close, though, with a mere 21 points in it after the final whistle.

The Saints

My sporting tastes now are quite wide and varied but football was my first love. When home ‘on leave’ from Africa, my Dad would take me to our team’s ground at Love Street in Paisley, Scotland – home to St Mirren FC. (My Dad was selected to play for St Mirren as a goalkeeper just as World War II was finishing and so the team is close to his heart.) As a youngster I would get in to Love Street for free so long as I was light enough for him to lift me over the turnstile. Then it was down to the front of the terraces, wearing my black and white scarf, to cheer on ‘the Buddies’ – or, more easily, ‘the Saints’ as this went better with our song, ‘Oh when the saints go marching in‘. We rarely did particularly well, but the pennant in my office reminds me (in my own handwriting) that we did win the old First Division in 1977 and then the Scottish Championship in 2018.

Embarrassing

It was in another competition, however, that I had a most embarrassing moment. In September 1977, just four days before our wedding, I took my fiancee and my Dad to watch St Mirren play Fulham (in London) in the first leg quarter-final of the Anglo- Scottish Cup. We arrived a few minutes late at Craven Cottage and cheered on the team in black and white to a first half goal. It was only in the half-time break that we realised we had been cheering on the wrong team (Fulham play in black and white and were, of course, the home team). We switched allegiance to the correct team for the second half (playing in red) and were again rewarded with a goal. So, whilst my lovely wife has continued to rib me about this to this day, we did at least have the fun of supporting the winning team in each half (and St Mirren did go on to be runners-up in the final that season).

Religious fervour

St Mirren’s trophy cabinet may be smaller than most, but watching the final matches of this season in England reminded me of the passion, which is close to religious fervour, that many people put into their football teams and which I sometimes witnessed on the Love Street terraces – and certainly when I occasionally ventured to Ibrox to see Glasgow Rangers play. The Swedish band, Rednex, released a country-dance song in 2008 called ‘Football is our religion‘ and Pele once famously said, ‘Football is like a religion to me. I worship the ball and treat it like a god‘. His arch rival for the title of the greatest player of all time, Diego Maradona, once confused his own hand with God’s – to England’s dismay. There has, of course, been a long history of the involvement of Christianity and association football. In the Nineteenth Century, ‘Muscular Christianity’ encouraged the game for its physical and social benefits and churches established several of what we would regard today as some of the leading UK clubs: Celtic, Everton, Manchester City and Southampton (the ‘other’ Saints), to name but a few. St Mirren is named after Saint Mirin (an Irish missionary monk who died in c 620 AD) and St Johnstone is named after St John the Baptist. In Northern Ireland, Glentoran FC had a sign with ‘Jesus’ on it at its Oval ground until, moving with the times we might say, an advertising hoarding claimed that space. Its rival club at Portadown FC, however, proudly displays the sign, ‘Life without Jesus makes no sense‘.

You’ll never walk alone

I suppose I risk the wrath of millions of football fans the world over to say that whilst football is ‘only’ a game, the ‘game of life’ is indeed meaningless without Jesus. Bill Shankly would have had us believe that football isn’t a matter of live and death – but is actually much more important than that. I wonder. The ‘Beautiful Game’ is taking a break now in the UK – at least as far as the professional form is concerned – and I hope (and pray) that this is time for its players, organisers and supporters to consider where God’s hand really is, who the true Saints are and that even football has to face up to the fact that ‘Life without Jesus makes no sense’. Liverpool FC’s anthem, ‘You’ll never walk alone‘, contains the lyric, ‘At the end of the storm, There’s a golden sky‘ . Let’s indeed ‘walk on, with hope in (our) heart‘ and remember that we do not walk alone – if only we acknowledge, ‘Life without Jesus makes no sense‘.

Cross your fingers?

I wonder if you, like me, get a little cross when someone uses this expression (and even action) when they hope for something to happen: ‘I’ve got my fingers crossed‘? Someone else might say ‘touch wood‘ when they, too, want something to take place or to try and gain good luck.

Superstitious expressions

Both of these expressions have their origins in pre-Christian and also in early Christian times. To cross one’s fingers was used to invoke God’s blessing and even to ward off evil, including when a person coughed or sneezed. ‘Touch wood‘ might also refer to touching the wooden cross of Christ but its origins seem to be much earlier as an expression: it derives from pantheistic religions where trees were supposedly inhabited by deities. If you expressed a hope for the future you should touch or knock on wood to prevent malevolent spirits hearing and so prevent your hopes coming true.

Present Hope

I have, however, been forced to reconsider the expressions which I have been using and which also might quite reasonably be annoying others. In particular I have been writing (and saying), ‘I hope you are safe and well‘ as I have communicated with people in these virus-afflicted times. What exactly do I mean by ‘hope’? In itself ‘hope’ is at best an expression of concern but in English etymology it contains no guarantees: ‘I hope you are doing OK‘, ‘I hope you will get better‘, etc. As a Christian, my ‘hope’ should be much stronger!

In Spanish the verb for ‘to hope’, ‘esperar’, is also the same as ‘to wait for’ and ‘to expect’. When a woman is pregnant she ‘esperando un bebe’. This is similar to the Biblical meanings in Hebrew and Greek of ‘hope’ but in both the Old and New Testaments we also find the word ‘hope’ tied in with a ‘trust’ in God. What are we hoping for, expecting or trusting in God in our prayers for ourselves and others? What is the ultimate purpose in our prayers during this time of crisis and in many cases, suffering?

Future Hope

Romans 8 v 22-25 (in the New Testament) speaks of the parallel of childbirth and the expectation of hope, “…as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved…“. It is hope in the future glory we have as an end destination of our trust in God.

As we pray for the day-to-day needs and things that will pass on earth, we are mindful that ultimately our desire is that in all things God’s will is done and that people will place their certain hope in Jesus.

I hope (and trust) that in treading this you, like me, will have been challenged to examine what we say ‘off hand’. I won’t be crossing my fingers or even touching wood as I write this – but, simply, praying that in a time of crisis my hope will be that of expectancy – an expectancy that God will bring light into our dark times, meaning in distress, and joy in unexpected places.

(With thanks to ‘Christian Values in Education’, CVE, Scotland for inspiration)