FAITH Matters

This posting was first published on my 'Mal's Murmurings' blog in January 2007

Faith Matters

FAITH is that set of values, and ultimate questions, by which we lead our lives. Questions and doubts are an integral component of faith, if we are not to become stuck in a rut of blind belief. I have been grasped by certain concepts and values of community and compassion, and much of the reported teachings of Jesus (acclaimed by many as the Christ), throughout my life, both those in which I have been unwittingly indoctrinated and, those which I have arrived at or returned to through a prolonged period of questioning.

It has always seemed a major mystery that some people seem to "need a faith", some "seek a faith" by which to measure their life’s course whilst others are quite simply "grasped" by an ultimate concern which they have neither sought nor been aware of a need for.

In my personal journey, I have at times embraced (or been embraced) by each of these modes yet, a deep rooted scepticism has proffered me a deep rooted intellectual and emotional resistance to making room for such a faith. That same stubborn resistance also occurs when anyone attempts to fob me off with multifarious scientific hypotheses disguising them as facts. I suppose I’m slightly averse to ‘fundamentalisms’ be they secular or religious.

Perhaps, with my low level reserves of physical and emotional stamina, I do not pro-actively fight for my beliefs as much as I should, but the mystery of LOVE (almost) always compels me to accept a transcendent reality.

I am "grasped" by the person and work of Jesus the Christ yet, am unable to accept much of the dogmatic doctrinal baggage with which he has been encumbered. Some emphasize his humanity, others his divinity, fully God and fully man proves a bit of a conundrum yet, in this myth of the Christ  many, including myself, have found the strength to challenge the social and economic injustices of our day.

In spite of my deeply rooted sceptical nature, it is far easier to accept the existence of God (all the flawed ontological/ teleological arguments for His/Her/Its existence notwithstanding) than it is to understand how it is possible that so much bigotry, intolerance and, upholding of the status quo can possibly be carried out in the name of Jesus Christ. It’s as if the ideological baggage of state blessed Christendom has blinded us to the truly radical nature of the Christ.

EASTER DAY

 

Colour comes back into life – overwhelms the morbid grey – despite their defeat with the death of their leader, it wasn’t long before the disciples were enabled to boldly proclaim the good news – something miraculous had occurred, these frightened and despairing social misfits were transformed – that’s the experience of RESURRECTION!

No rest for the shattered!

Yesterday was the busiest day I’ve spent for a considerable period of time; our friends Roy & Jacqui visited us mid-morning for a little chat. The course of the conversation, over the next three to four hours, was by turns both intimate and challenging, and covered reflection on our sundry life experiences, matters of faith, healing, and the place and limitations of reason. The person of Jesus the Christ proved a central focus to this time of fellowship.

A couple of hours after our visitors departure, Helen and I headed off to the Acorn Centre, where Helen helps as a volunteer, for their Christmas Party. The traditional Christmas dinner was cooked to perfection, and the chef received a very warm round of applause just as he’d intended to sneak quietly away! We enjoyed a quiz which followed the meal; the fact that ours was the winning team probably added a little extra to our enjoyment, and we were then entertained by the music group whose enthusiasm always compensates for any musical limitations. After three hours my body was telling me it was time to go and, I felt quite shattered by the time we arrived back home.

Although I felt achingly tired, by the time I attempted to immerse myself in the duvet realm, an intense excruciating discomfort in shoulders, armpits and upper limbs generally, made it impossible to find a restful posture. My whole body was convulsively shuddering as I, repeatedly, failed to find an appropriately comfortable position. A primary distraction from this upper limb discomfort was my essential response to the, all too familiar, erratically spasmodic intestinal convulsions.

An additional dose of tramadol was called for, before a sufficient easing of the upper limbs and torso discomfort was found. Having got into bed at around 22.15hrs, I eventually found a degree of comfort by 01.45hrs but, even then, an overactive/over-stimulated mind ensured that I remained awake until at least 06.00hrs.

Mal's Christmas Message

As Christmas Day approaches, I've been revelling (as listener rather than participant) in lots of Christmas carols and other Christmas music whilst preparing for the big day. As a Christian, my central focus is upon the Christ child who grew up to challenge the secular and spiritual authorities of his day, proclaiming a discipline of selflessness, compassion, peace and humility. Although his spirit is still alive, it is all too frequently portrayed in a way which is both nauseatingly pious and uncharitable!


At times. it seems quite difficult to reconcile the wining and dining, which is an integral part of our Christmas celebrations, with the commemoration of the birth of a child in quite humble circumstances in an occupied Middle Eastern country but, I still manage to enjoy the celebrations. As I write, the large (11lb) chicken is roasting in the oven, a mixture of butter, garlic, pepper and chilli having been inserted beneath the skin. I've also been busily preparing both standard and gluten-free sausagemeat (with a liberal administering of onion, mustard and parsley) stuffing. Portions of chicken will then be placed in the steamer, along with sundry vegetables on the day itself. Ma belle has prepared the vegetables and the potatoes ready for par-boiling by yours truly, in a special herb and spice infused liquid, prior to roasting in due course.


I've also been diligently filling the sundry feeders for our gardens avian visitors, having first having scraped away the feeder's snow overcoats and, enjoyed a little walk with my beloved around a few blocks of the neighbourhood.


Beth, my elder step-daughter, together with her partner Mahmood, and his son Sina, will be joining us for Christmas Day dinner whilst Cathy and Ken (her partner) will be spending a couple of days in Barcelona. Of course Cathy will be coming round for her Christmas Dinner on Monday, with Ken calling around later to imbibe a few glasses of fermented grape juice. It's rather nice to be able to stretch out the festivities in this way. We are so fortunate to be able to celebrate in this way, whilst being all too guiltily aware of all those millions throughout the globe who struggle for subsistence.


My Christmas wish, as always, is for PEACE, HOPE and JOY, and a far more equitable distribution of the earths resources!

Christmas Calling

Christmas approaches and, a few lights and decorations adorn the interior of our house. Small nativity cribs, in the hall and dining room, remind us of the Christ in Christmas and, more potently, the nativity scene in our living room displays potential visitors barred, by a tall wall, from gaining access to the stable, telling of the situation that exists in that part of the Middle East today. The transformative event is centered on a small child born of humble parentage, not in a palace or in the fortresses of the occupying imperial power but rather in second rate guest accomodation.

Even the wise men expected something different, after all the seats of real power are always quite prestigiously situated. They stumble on their way but, meanwhile, the good news had already been broadcast to the sheperds and, they were the first to come to the Christ child. The men from the seats of learning are beaten to the post by these herdsmen. Values are turned on their head.

Sadly, it wouldn't be long before the wise and learned, serving the purposes of their earthly rulers, would distort this message, placing the Christ at the service of secular power rather than serving Him. A message of love and hope to the poor and humble becomes a religion of fear and subservience to ones earthly masters.

The child, born in humble circumstance, grew up to challenge the politics of greed, hatred and idolatory. Where he put the will of his heavenly father first, after his death and resurrection, he became the tool of the powerful who saw themselves as being God's representatives on earth.

Those who seek to follow the way of Jesus, who take up their cross, are likely to find little favour with either religious or secular authority. They will be tempted, at every turn, to betray their calling in order to obtain advancement in their place of work, told to be realists and not idealists. The call of Jesus is not for what he can do for me, but rather a challenge to us to serve our fellow men in the cause of justice and dignity.

As long as we stand by, and aquiesce, in the violence and injustice of our world we are kicking and bruising that child born in a troubled Middle East two millenia ago. I, myself, am a weak and wayward follower but, in Him I have my hope.