#enoughisenough

After 2 weeks since the gender violence awakening following Uyinene's brutal rapture and murder, I find I am still too emotionally wrung out to say much. Yet I feel that to stay silent is also not helpful. So I would say this: 

Enough is enough.

It is not okay, not even the same universe as okay, that women and children are maligned, used, abused, harassed, raped, tortured, murdered, slandered, terrified oude harmed in any way because of the fact of their age or gender. 

Enough is enough. 

In the same breath, with the continuation of the xenophobic attacks, I must add that it is not acceptable that the country of one's birth should determine one's value, worth, acceptance, dignity or humanity in the eyes of others.

Enough is enough. 

Evil of all kinds continues unabated.

Enough is enough.

Lord Jesus, we need you. The line between evil and godliness runs through every human heart. Lord, we need you. Only in you, only with tbe help of your Spirit can wer ever hope to defeat evil in this world. 

Lord, enough is enough. 

Let your kingdom come. Let your will be done. Jesus, please come now and put an end to all this madness, and suffering, and pain, and evil. Please. Enough is enough. 

Robert Mugabe is dead. What is your reaction?

In the midst of the gender violence awakening at the moment, I want to take a moment to comment on Robert Mugabe's death. 

I am appalled at the celebration of many art his death. Yes, he was a dictator. Yes, he was involved in despicable violence. Yes, he was selfishness and corrupt power personified. But I don't rejoice at his death. 

Jesus has not returned yet in order to give more people time to turn to him and be saved. This soul is now lost to him, and in the same way that all heaven rejoices when one souls is saved, I can only imagine all heaven laments when one is lost forever. While I am glad that he can no longer perpetrate his vile evil against others, I mourn that he could not be saved. 

Whatever evil he did, he was also a human being who was lost and broken, and now will never be found or healed, who will  now never have the chance to make reparations for the evil he did, or to apologise to those he wronged, or to be granted forgiveness. I cannot rejoice or celebrate his death, and I find I am appalled at the lack of humanity by those who do.

Making time to do nothing

This is a repost, as I accidentally deleted the original... sigh!

I took the kids to the beach yesterday, ostensibly to walk the dogs, but, as usually happens, the kids were soon playing happily in the sand. I decided to take the opportunity to do nothing, specifically choosing not to be on my phone. 

Initially it was very uncomfortable, just sitting and doing nothing. I can't remember when last I did that. Then, as I pushed through, I rediscovered the joy, the peace, of stillness. 

When was the last time you weren't busy with something - on social media, playing games (phone/ computer/ etc.), watching series, reading the news or a novel, doing chores, working.... when wad the last time you just sat and did nothing?

There I was, watching the waves, studying the sky, letting the white noise of the waves down or the constant chatter in my head, feeling the cold of the sand on my back contrast with the heat of the sun on my tummy, following the clouds across the sky and the ships across the bay...

It was so healing to be still, to rediscover solitude and silence, to just be present in the moment without the expectation of achieving an outcome or goal, or meeting a deadline, or needing to be something to someone.

I left feeling destresed, at peace with myself and the world. I definitely need to make more time to do nothing. 

The Armed Man

I cry in movies. I cry when reading novels. I cry when hearing stories of others' pain. I cry a lot, but last night was something else. Last night we went to the RGHS, RBHS & SACS combined mass choir and orchestra performance of The Armed Man: a mass for peace at City Hall. I cried throughout the entire thing.

It was beautiful, terrible, profound, disturbing, powerful, awe-inspiring. If you ever have the opportunity to go to a performance, you absolutely should take it!

The work contains the usual sorts of pieces you would expect from a mass, but the theme deals with war - it is rightly called a mass for peace though, because it drives home the message that war is a terrible evil. What makes this mass different though, is the inclusion of video and photographic material on a massive screen behind the choir. In the way that a film score matches the cinematography, the imagery was chosen to coincide with the music except that, in this case, the music was written first.

The mass opens with scenes of military marches by Hitler and Stalin's armies, continues through scenes of armaments manufacturing, to battle scenes, then on to the aftermath of war, and the rebuilding post-war. It ends with a measure of hope. There were scenes from the Apartheid government forces beating up protestors, the falling of the Twin Towers, nuclear bombs exploding, Confederate re-enactment soldiers, from both World Wars, and more. The images are graphic, and combined with the inspiring and insightful music, incredibly emotive.

I was particularly struck by several things. Firstly, after the Sanctus, the mass includes the adhan, the Muslim call to prayer. As the muezzin was singing, I wondered whether this performance was the first time that religious content other than that from Christianity, but especially from Islam, had ever been performed in City Hall. I was also struck that if I spoke Arabic, I would call God Allah, even as I prayed to a different God; that the adhan, while a call for muslims to pray, could just as easily be a call for Christians to gather & pray.

The Kyrie Eleison (Lord, have mercy) was performed while imagery of battles were shown, and it struck me as particularly poignant that children were singing this piece while adults (mainly men) were shown warring - contrasting their innocence with the death of innocence, their age with the age of the soldiers, their supposed lack of wisdom with the supposed wisdom of adults who 'know better', their cries for mercy with the relentless action of war.

"Save me from bloody men" was... unusual. Sung a Capella, in near total darkness, with monochrome footage of trenches and men crossing no man's land, it ended with a massive blast on the drums (I think it was both timpani and drum kit combined) that coincided with colour footage of a nuclear bomb explosion. I nearly left my seat with fright!

I won't go through the performance item by item, save to say that each piece left me more wounded, broken, horrified. I found myself silently calling out to God, both in horror at the evil in our hearts that would allow us to perpetrate such violence against one another and against the earth; and for forgiveness. I was reminded of Paul's words that 'if it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live in peace with everyone'. Rom 12:18. 

The scenes of the attack on the Twin Towers was particularly upsetting, as I was transported back to that day, and I remembered the horror of watching people jump to their deaths all on my own, and then wondering whether Graeme would be able to return home to me in London.

The scenes of the Allies helping the victims of the concentration camps was disturbing. There are no words for the horror of seeing living corpses, for that is how they seemed.

By the time we got to the Benedictus, it was almost all I could do not to moan in anguish. I found myself fervently praying that Jesus would return soon, to put an end to all this evil and suffering, once and for all. 

Given that the line between good and evil runs through the middle of every heart, we cannot solve the problem of evil, or of war and violence, on our own. If we cannot manage our own tempers, if we cannot prevent ourselves from gossiping or slandering others, if we cannot deal with our own jealousy or desire for power/ fame/ recognition, if we cannot control our thought life, if we cannot control the anger in our hearts, then there will never be peace. Jesus really is the only hope in this world, because he alone has the power to change us - after seeing this performance, I am more convinced of that than ever.

The final irony for me, was that the City Hall is a war memorial. (Sadly, it is a memorial only for those whites who died; it does not name people of colour.)

Afterwards, I wondered anew at the situation we face in Cape Town with the army coming in to support police in areas of gang violence. Gangs foment violence and war, but is retaliating with violence and war the solution? Even Paul recognised that sometimes peace is not possible. Sometimes radical responses are needed. If the Allies had not responded radically and violently, what would the world have looked like today? Would Hitler have conquered the whole of Europe, the world? Do the ends justify the means? Do the death, destruction and mayhem caused by a tyrannical racist warrant a world war? I suppose the problem is that we don't know what sort of death, destruction or mayhem would have resulted had there not been a world war. 

Returning to our gangland problem, surely a better solution would be changing hearts and minds? But doing so is harder than perpetrating violence - it's easier to beat someone up, arrest them, throw them in jail, or whatever, than it is to walk alongside them in conversation for days, weeks, months, years, until you have helped them to see themselves and their circumstances differently. War is evil, no doubt. War is abhorrent. But peace is worth fighting for, right, no matter the cost?

True peace is not just the absence of war though. True peace comes from a healed and restored heart, one that does not covet, is not proud, or jealous, that does not hate, that is not insecure, that can love and forgive freely. True peace is found in a heart that knows and loves Jesus, and that, without a doubt, is worth the greatest price of all. 

Meek and mild? I think not!

My cousin preached at church today, and as always, his sermon was so full of meaty, weighty stuff to consider that I will have to download the podcast later to get all the gems. But once thing really stuck with me - a definition he got somewhere else (he was adamant it wasn't his own) for word translated as 'meek'.

Being the kind of child I was, who really wanted nothing more than to go to Bible college or read for a theology degree when I left school (& yes, there's a story there about why I didn't) I learnt early on in my Bible-reading career that meek doesn't mean mild. It doesn't mean being being a doormat.

But this definition today caught my imagination: Being meek means getting angry enough at the injustices of and in the world that you are motivated to action, but not at the injustices perpetrated against yourself.

Think about that for a second - get angry at poverty, at poor ECD for our children, at the fact that some schools still have pit toilets, or that in some schools girls can't go to school without fear of being raped, or that some families sleep 5 to a room while others have 2 rooms per person in a family of 5, or that in some suburbs you aren't safe from being shot inside your home by a stray bullet punching through your window because of gang violence, or..... by all means get angry about those things and try to contribute to the solution. 

But when you feel discriminated against, or when you feel life is unfair to you personally, or when someone slanders your name, or gossips about you, or steals your possessions, di not get angry about these things if it leads you to violence.

Why? Because, as a follower of Jesus, you know that when the world shows you its ugly side, when it reveals its hatred of you, it hated Jesus first, and it hated Jesus more. 

And how did Jesus react when his name was slandered, when lies were told about him, when his innocence was hidden for political expediency, when his enemies conspired against him, when he was beaten, whipped, sleep deprived, mocked, tortured and murdered? He responded with forgiveness - "Father, forgive then, for they know not what they do." Of course they knew what they were doing! Of course the religious leaders and the political rulers, the soldiers and the mob knew EXACTLY what they were doing - they wanted him dead. But they didn't know AT ALL what they were doing - they were helping to ensure that the salvation of every man, woman and child who had ever lived, and would ever live would be secured.

When the world shows us its ugly underbelly, it doesn't realise that it is also giving us the opportunity to be, and to demonstrate, the visible love, joy, peace and freedom that is present through Jesus.

So get angry about injustice, just not injustice towards yourself. Be meek.

My cousin used a fabulous analogy. Picture a labrador puppy and an adult boerbul. The puppy gambols around the adult, biting its tail, ears, and snaps at its face. The adult boerbul could, with a single snap of its powerful jaws, annihilate the puppy. Instead, it tolerantly endures the puppy's antics. Why? Because it is meek. Power under control. It could retaliate, but it chooses not to because it recognises that the puppy doesn't really know what it is doing.

As believers we have the power and might of all of heaven on our side. As daughters and sons of the Most High God, we could destroy them. Wer could call down fire and SMITE them. Instead, we choose to be like our brother and Lord. We do not choose revenge. We do not choose anger. We choose love, and forgiveness. We choose to be meek. 

Small decisions. Split seconds. Life and death

I like speed. Not the drug - never had that, never intend to either. No, I like driving fast. In my time, I’ve had my fair share of tickets, but in recent years, I’ve been trying hard to slow down, to stick to the speed limit. I’ve even installed one of those recorder app thingys on my phone, linked to my car insurance, to encourage me to slow down. And thank God for that, because last night, on my way to the matric dance, if I’d been doing my preferred speed on the highway, I would have killed a pedestrian, and possibly myself as well.

It was dark (it’s winter), and I was in the fast lane on a piece of road with a gentle S-bend on an incline. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a pedestrian steps into the road from the concrete divider. Almost as if in slow-mo, I process this and think - “no way! This guy’s seen me, he’s going to step back.” He wasn’t stumbling and did not appear drunk. He just calmly walked across the road. In that moment of incredulity of realizing that he wasn’t stepping back, that he either truly did not see me, or was not aware of the danger of crossing a busy highway at night, I had to decide how to respond - which way around him to aim for. I braked like mad, swerved, and missed him, but then nearly hit the concrete barrier, so swerved again, and then nearly lost control of the car as I tried to avoid going into the next lane and hitting the car a few meters behind.
In the lane next to me, another car was sitting a few meters behind me, almost in my blind spot. I don’t think the driver saw the pedestrian either, until I swerved initially. As I was focused on trying not to lose control of the car, I didn’t see what happened next. But as I managed to glance at into the rear view mirror, I saw the pedestrian’s bag go flying out from behind the 2nd car, with all his stuff flying everywhere. My best guess is that it clipped him, or at least, clipped his bag. He survived though.
Thank God I hadn’t had my usual Friday afternoon end-of-the-school-week glass of wine, or, in this case, the end-of-term-celebratory glass of wine. Thank God I was going the speed limit. Because if either of those things had been different, the end result could have been very different.
Small decisions. Split seconds. Life and death.

Stand up!

Over the past few weeks I have been reading news about violence in schools - 7 fatal stabbings across the country this year already - and that’s not talking about adults, it’s talking about pupils, some in primary school, stabbing one another. 

At the same time, it has been exams, and with that has been the usual slew of exam irregularities, which includes students attempting to cheat. (Anyone who tell you kids at their school don’t cheat, they are lying - either they know and are deliberately lying, or their kids are just so smart they have the teachers fooled.) Some of the blatant methods used astound me with their stupidity - did they seriously think they wouldn’t be caught out? And then, of course, when students are under stress they say and do the silliest things, usually on social media, which then gets reported to the staff. (Again, did they seriously think it wouldn’t be seen?)

At the start of the exam season I attended the South Africa Principals Association conference. (No, I’m not a principal; the conference is open to ordinary teachers too.) One of the speakers was Emma Sadlier, who is a renowned South African lawyer specializing in social media cases. Some of the stories she shared, about how students treat each other - things they say on and do social media, were bone chilling. No need to read a horror story when that kind of thing is happening in reality in this country (and across the globe)!

All this to say that I’ve been pondering what it means to have integrity, and why it is that our young people seem to be lacking it. 

The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers.

This quote is reportedly by Socrates, quoted by Plato, but was actually a statement by Kenneth John Freeman in his Cambridge dissertation in 1907. Never the less, I think any generation would feel this way about the next generation. 

Maybe because so much of my time is spent dealing with the naughty kids at school - whether through the DT system (which I manage), or as a grade head, I can accept that my opinions on the matter are skewed to one side. Many of those I deal with seem to lack integrity. They are quite happy to pass the buck as quickly as possible, and if they can’t, to point out the faults in others to deflect from themselves. If they can’t do that either they lie outright, denying all knowledge of anything you might say. In many cases, when they have knowledge about something, they will refuse to do the right thing and inform on their friends, even if doing so would mean the rest of the school community would be safer. It’s the whole ‘snitches get stitches’ thing, which makes me mad, because it endangers the other 1000+ people in the school community in preference for a friendship with one other person.

Smile 90.4 FM have an advert that runs something like this: “If you saw a wallet on the ground, and picked it up, what would you do? (Pause) You’d give it back, of course!” It continues to espouse the value of integrity, saying that people who do the right thing have a heart. How can it be that the programme managers and management of a popular radio station feel it is essential enough to spend the money to run an ad that promotes integrity? Have we, as a nation, really fallen that far?

I think we have. I think that both through the effect of Apartheid, the effect of a modern society that promotes individualism to the extreme, and finally, through the efforts of people like Richard Dawkins and the militant atheists, the moral fibre of our society seems to have been ripped apart at the seams. There is no doubt in my mind that some of this is Satan’s work - gleefully encouraging us to love ourselves more than others, to ignore God, and to do nothing when we see injustice. But I don’t think we can lay all the blame at his door. We are by nature fallen beings, prone to going our own way and the further we are from Christ, the easier it is for our moral compass to be incorrectly aligned.

Having integrity takes courage. It requires you to speak truth, even at cost to yourself. It demands that you take responsibility for not only your own problems, but those of others around you as well. True integrity flourishes in a heart that is soft, that shows grace towards others, that loves at all times, that forgives. Those with integrity stand with not just their heads above the parapet, but their chest and arms as well, knowing full well that they make a target of themselves, and choosing to do it anyway, because it’s the right thing to do.

How do we help our broken young people develop integrity like this? How do we make it more attractive to them than the alternatives? How do we raise up a generation in this country, at this time, in our context of massive unemployment and a failing education system, that chooses to do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do - not for reward, not out of fear of punishment, not because of coercion? The simple solution is to make disciples of Jesus, of course. 

I was going to say, though, that the reality is that in this multi-cultural, multi-faith society, saying preaching Jesus is verboten. But when I look at the time that Paul spent in Ephesus, I see exactly the same set-up. Ephesus was a major city in Paul’s time, sitting on a major cross-road, and hence centre, for trade between East and West, North and South. It was the global centre for the worship of Artemis, amongst other gods. Paul stood up, every day, and preached for several hours, for 3 years. Of course, he was ultimately executed for sticking his neck above the parapet, so to speak. Yet, he was so convinced of the power of the gospel to change lives that he thought the risk was worth it.

So I guess, in the end, the question I am left with this is - do I think the risk of sharing the gospel with those around me is worth it? There is no short-term fix for a lack of integrity. If the only long-term solution I can see is to make disciples of The Way, am I willing to stand up and be counted? Am I willing to be the voice crying in the wilderness - maybe excluded and isolated, maybe feeling like a freak, maybe being insulted, probably not being liked very much - calling others to a higher standard, holding them to account, speaking truth in love?

I’d love to be able to answer ‘yes’ without a 2nd thought, but the truth is that that kind of radical faith is scary. I want to be that kind of person, and sometimes I think I am. But I know that, God forgive me!, often I shrink back, too scared of making waves, of alienating myself from others, or of looking a fool. So really, if I can’t be a model of integrity to others, how can I expect others to be one? 

I can lament the situation because I know God laments the situation too. His desire is for righteousness to cover the earth. Even in my imperfect state, I know that it’s okay (and right) for me to lament the situation. But I need to be part of the solution. I am called to be part of the solution - that’s what being a disciple of Jesus means. This is not something I can just suck up and get on with, or manufacture the strength to do. This is far too difficult for that. No, what I need is the power of the Spirit, every day, every hour. On my own I don’t have the strength or ability. With my God, I can scale a wall though! (Ps 18:29)

Planting flowers

Everyone loves a pretty garden, right? One that looks loved, and looked after, and full of greenery and colour. I get that some people hate spending time in gardens because of their allergies (grass, pollen, bees, etc.), but who doesn’t at least appreciate looking out of their window and seeing beauty like that?

With the drought of last year, and the increasing dryness over the past 3-4 years, my garden has slowly been dying. Sadly, my attempts at quick fixes have made things worse - my grass now looks less like a lawn and more like a few strands of grass with lots of bare ground. Being someone who has always taken pride in growing things, and who loves nothing more than spending time in a beautiful, green space, this slow death of my garden has caused a concomitant death in my soul. It got so bad I wanted to keep the curtains closed, so I would have to look at it. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Earlier this year, though, as I stood contemplating the disaster of my garden, and feeling thoroughly depressed that I would ever have the type of garden I wanted, I felt God speak to me about it.

“What do you really want out of this garden?”
“I want to look out and see something that invites me to spend time in it, something that looks beautiful, something pretty.”
“If you want flowers, you have to plant flowers.”

That made me think. As a gardener, you have to plan in advance. If you want spring flowers, you have to plant bulbs in winter. If you want more fruit off your trees in summer, you have to prune them in autumn. When you plant something, you have to picture it as a fully-grown plant, to ensure that the spot you choose will have enough space for it to grow into. You are constantly thinking ahead and planning for the future. It takes time, effort, and seeing the big picture.

As a gardener, you are also constantly battling the forces that would seek to destroy your beautiful creation - pests, diseases, weeds, overgrowth, climate. That too takes persistent work. You can’t take a holiday from caring for your garden, because then something will get a foothold and before you can say “make lemonade from lemons”, all your hard work has been undone.

If I want a beautiful garden, I can’t give up. I can’t hide behind my curtains and pretend the garden doesn’t exist. If I want a beautiful garden, I have to put the time in. I have to plant the bulbs that will give me the spring flowers. I have to mow the lawn every week or so so that the grass is encouraged to grow horizontally to fill the gaps (rather than vertically). I have to turn the soil to improve aeration (my garden sits on koffieklip, so one rain and my plants are growing in rock again). I have to add fertilizers regularly to improve the nutrient quality of the soil (I have a layer of sand on the koffieklip) so that things actually grow. I also have to choose my plants more wisely - choosing fynbos over tropical beauties, because they are better adapted for my garden conditions (which will save me money in the long run). As I contemplated all this, God took it a level deeper though.

“What do you really want out of your life?”
“I want to know Your thoughts, to hear You speaking to me, and through me so that I can speak into the lives of those around me, to draw them to You. I want a life of significance.”
“You want the flowers.”
“I do.”
“Then you have to plant flowers.”

Wham! That hit me right between the eyes. If I want to know God more, then I have to spend time with him. I have to plan to create times and spaces to meet with him. I have to put in the time and effort. I also have to actively spend time dealing with the spiritual pests, diseases, weeds and other things that would seek to distract me (at best) and tear me away from God (at worst). If I want the spiritual rewards, then I have to sow the spiritual seeds, plant the spiritual bulbs, and plant the spiritual flowers. I can’t give up when things get tough - like with gardening, it’s when things are difficult that my plants need me most to protect them and provide for them. When things get spiritually difficult, that’s when I most need to lean in, to press into the spiritual disciplines even more.

I have been living with this since the beginning of the year, and I won’t say I’ve got it waxed, because I don’t. But I can say that I am moving in the right direction. Eugene Petersen (one of the modern-day giants in Christendom) wrote a book entitled “A long obedience in the same direction”, about living the Christian life in our modern world. This is what it is about. We live in an instant society, but real life isn’t lived instantly. Real life is a long, slow journey, and as Christians we are constantly heading in the same direction - becoming more like Jesus.

So, my motto for the year is that if you want flowers, you’ve got to plant flowers.