PEACE!

They played each other yesterday: India and Pakistan.

The Championship Trophy cricket matches are on, between the world’s cricketing nations, India, Pakistan, Australia, West Indies, England, South Africa, Sri Lanka, and New Zealand. And yesterday the traditional rivals (in most things, not just cricket) played each other.

Once upon a time, India and Pakistan were considered one nation, and ruled by the British as such. The partition of those countries into predominantly Hindu India and predominantly Muslim Pakistan in 1947 created such animosity between the two nations that they have been at war with each other several times, and been on the brink of war more times than one can count. Posturing, accusing, quarrelling, fighting.

Even in cricket. Traditional rivals, both boast terrific teams that have fought for glory on the field. Usually these (war)games are conducted either in Pakistan or in India, with a partisan crowd packing the stands, patriotic blood boiling.

Yesterday’s game, however, was held in Centurion, South Africa, the venue of the Championship Trophy. Flags flew proudly—almost all of them the Indian tricolor, or the Pakistani moon-and-star. It was terrific to see both flutter alongside one another; the packed 22,000-seat stadium was ablaze with green/white/orange and white/green. The flag-flying hordes were, thankfully, completely peaceful, albeit raucous, for the entirety of the 8-hour match. Perhaps it was because it was played on neutral territory. Perhaps it was because to be anything but peaceful wouldn’t exactly be “cricket,” you know. (Maybe soccer!)

Anyhow, it proved that India and Pakistan can fight in peace!

If they can, surely we can, too—we who were redeemed by the Prince of Peace.

If possible, so far as
it depends on you,
be at peace with everyone.
Romans 12:18

But human nature is selfish, self-seeking, self-promoting.

Be in harmony with one another;
do not be haughty in mind ….
Romans 12:16

That’s the root of our problems. The self-focused flesh.

And so, when I’m offended, I’m gonna pay them back in their own coin. So there!

Never pay back
evil for evil to anyone. …
But if your enemy is hungry,
feed him, and if he is thirsty,
give him a drink ….
Do not be overcome by evil,
but overcome evil with good.
Romans 12:17, 20–21

What? Treat kindly those who oppress me? But what about my rights?

For this finds favor,
if for the sake of conscience
toward God
a person bears up under sorrows
when suffering unjustly.
1 Peter 2:19

But nobody does that? That’s impossible to practice.

For you have been called
for this purpose,
since Christ also suffered for you,
leaving you an example
for you to follow in His steps ….
1 Peter 2:21

But then who’s gonna take care of poor ol’ me?

… and while being reviled,
He did not revile in return;
while suffering,
He uttered no threats,
but kept entrusting Himself
to Him who judges righteously.
1 Peter 2:23

That’s the One who will take care of us—our heavenly Father.

I don’t know if the name of an adversary or opponent who has been giving you trouble comes to mind as you read this. Maybe one does. If so, would you take these verses to heart? Even seek ways to reconcile?

… walk in a manner
worthy of the calling
with which you have been called,
with all humility and gentleness,
with patience, showing tolerance
for one another in love,
being diligent to preserve
the unity of the Spirit
in the bond of peace.
Ephesians 4:1–3

Amen!

P.S.:India lost! There goes my peace!

SLOW!

I cut my hair this week. It’s always an experience. The nice kind.

I frequent a neighborhood joint just a hop, skip, and jump from my place. It used to be manned by a trio of old guys, usually found napping in their own barber chairs, waiting for the unwary customer with hair too long or beard too unkempt. It used to be a trio. The founding member died last year. Now it’s a duet of old guys. The consummate artist in charge of my scalp is Dee, a portly character with glasses, a Lutheran, and an active one at that.

This week was no different from the usual visit. One hour! Yes, one hour, of pure relaxation! Dee takes his time. Conversationalist par excellence, he takes frequent breaks to indulge in dissertating on the woes of the world. With scissors in hand, employed like a conductor’s baton, he disparages federal, state, and city governments. His voluble utterances are punctuated by stabs in the air at imaginary opponents, and I try to dodge the flying rapier, as I sit captive under a maroon coverlet, swaddled and straitjacketed! But it’s fun. He takes his time.

This local operation is my non-alcoholic version of the Cheers bar.

Wouldn't you like to get away?

Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name,

And they're always glad you came.
Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo © 1982

Dee knows my name, what I do, where I live, when I’ll turn up next, my SS#, everything! He shows me suspicious skin lesions, likes to talk about church stuff, and often tells me (yes, he tells me) what’s happening at the Seminary located just a couple of blocks away.

Yup, he takes his time.

Oh, and the coup de grâce, the shoulder massage, with one of those agitating gizmos that Dee straps on to his hand and places in contact with my scapula, clavicle, spine, and cranium. Everything shakes—brain, eyeballs, cochlea, tongue, heart, trachea …. A delightful way to get a workout. (I bet it literally vibrates a few thousands calories off my anatomy.)

A lost art! He takes his time.

Relationships take time. No instant gratification here. No quick fixes. No rapid fire kinship. So it is with God, too. Relationships take time.

Take time to be holy,
Speak oft with thy Lord;

Abide in Him always,
And feed on His Word.

Make friends of God’s children,
Help those who are weak,

Forgetting in nothing
His blessing to seek.
Will­iam D. Long­staff, 1882

Take time!

Devote yourselves to prayer,
keeping alert in it ….
Colossians 4:2

Our Lord gave us the example.

But Jesus Himself would often
slip away to the wilderness and pray.
Luke 5:16

And we? We have no time to pray!

Yet the time spent on TV by the average American per year is 1,512 hours = 63 days of non-stop TV-watching, 24–7.

Relationships take time.

Luther, replying to someone who asked him about his plans for the next day, said: “I plan to work, work, from early till late. In fact, I have so much to do that I shall spend the first 3 hours in prayer.”

As St. Benedict said, Orare est laborare. To pray is to work.

So …

Pray without ceasing.
1 Thessalonians 5:17

And that includes praying with others in the family of God.

They were continually
devoting themselves
to the apostles' teaching
and to fellowship,
to the breaking of bread
and to prayer.
Acts 2:42

Relationships take time. Devoted in prayer. Go slow. Invest. Then … profit.

TAXI

Yup, that’s a taxi. A water taxi. Takes you, on demand, to where you want to go around Sydney harbor (recognizable from the landmark in the background—the iconic shells of Sydney Opera House).

Cities across the globe from Amsterdam to Venice have this species of water transportation. Gets you from point A to point B. In this case from one of the quays in Sydney to the remarkable Taronga Zoo. (More on the Zoo in another installment of the aBeLOG.)

But I’d never seen one before. Rather unusual, I thought. A water taxi!

But special circumstances—water!—demand special solutions. One can’t walk, one can’t swim, one can’t fly the distance. The usual means of getting across don’t work. So … an unusual remedy: water taxi!

Some distances in life cannot be spanned even by water taxi. Some gaps in life call for a special solution. Distances that are impossible for us to cover on our own. Gaps too wide for bridging by the usual means. An unusual remedy is needed.

A particular Gap yawns before us starkly—that between us and a holy God.

Your sins have made
a separation between
you and your God …
Isaiah 59:2

The Gap of sin. Our sin. Mine. An unspannable Gap. An irremediable separation. And there’s nothing we can do to bridge it.

And the result, God says, is separation forever from Him, the source of life. So the Bible calls it “death”—the eternal kind.

For the wages of sin is death ….
Romans 6:23a

That’s it! We’re done for. Hopeless! Helpless!

All kinds of remedies have been propounded for this most lethal affliction by all manner of people all across the ages. Epicureans say: Don’t worry about. Just enjoy life! But with eternal death hanging over my head, I can’t. Stoics say: Well that’s too bad, but there’s nothing we can do about it; so, stiff upper lip, old chap! That doesn’t help me one bit. Pythagoreans assure us: God will work a miracle and take everyone home to be with Him one day. Yeah? But that just makes a mockery of God and His righteousness and justice. Platonists assert: God can’t really do anything about it. So just be good and do good and that will outweigh the bad stuff in the end. OK, I’ll try.

[Many tries later (and out of breath) …]

I don’t think I’m any closer to God. In the sinful state that I find myself from birth to death, nothing I do ever seems to outweigh all the divine-law-breaking I’ve engaged in.

Sin is lawlessness.
1 John 3:4

Hopeless. Helpless.

But there is good news. A water taxi!

Well, not exactly ….

For the wages of sin is death,
but the free gift of God
is eternal life
in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 6:23

Jesus Christ, God Himself, took our sin and paid its price—forever, fully, finally! Unusual means of transportation, indeed.

But God demonstrates
His own love toward us,
in that while we were yet sinners,
Christ died for us.
Romans 5:8

Sins no longer separate us from God, provided, of course, we accept that price.

For God so loved the world,
that He gave
His only begotten Son,
that whoever believes in Him
shall not perish,
but have eternal life.
John 3:16

And that’s the “price” of the ticket on the taxi. Belief. Faith. Trust. In the truth that God in Christ died for us, rose on the third day, paying for our sins.

Thanks be to God
for His indescribable gift!
2 Corinthians 9:15

Free ride! All aboard!

GROUNDED?

Ever tried spelling “Woolloomooloo”? OK, here we go: Double-U, double O, double L, double O, M, double O, L, double O. Now see how fast you can say it!

Double-U, double O,
double L, double O,
M, double O,
L, double O.

Pure poetry! And a real tongue-twister if there ever was one. Supposedly derived from an aboriginal word, wallabahmullah, i.e., a young black kangaroo.

For those of you non-Aussies, Woolloomooloo is an inner-city suburb of Sydney on Woolloomooloo Bay in Sydney Harbor. A pleasant waterfront to lounge around and watch people. Apart from its tongue-stupefying name, Woolloomooloo is famous for being the home of Harry’s Café de Wheels.

Harry’s culinary establishment is basically a one-room kitchen on wheels, with a large awning. While it used to be mobile, it is now permanently affixed to the ground, despite its name. Fancy murals and pictures of important visitors decorate the edifice, including those of Frank Sinatra, Robert Mitchum, Marlene Dietrich, and Colonel Sanders. Not the least of that coterie is my friend, Malcolm, the back of whose head you see.

Harry’s Café de Wheels is now included in the National Trust of Australia, acknowledged as having “aesthetic, historical, architectural, archaeological, scientific, or social significance or other special value for future generation.” An icon and a must-see (and must-eat-at) tourist attraction.

I came, I saw, and I ate.

I consumed a Tiger, which—named after Harry “Tiger” Edwards—is, as the sign announces, a beef pie with mashed potatoes and mushy green peas, all collectively drowning in brown gravy, which one consumes sitting on the sidewalk or wherever, out of a paper bowl, with a plastic fork.

Ol’ Harry began this operation in 1938, and it has been running ever since, except for an interlude during the war when Mr. Edwards was conscripted into the army.

The Sydney City Council mandates that food-vending vans like Harry’s Café de Wheels actually be mobile and move at least 12 inches every day. I don’t know how Harry finagled his permanent base with the City Council, but he did: it has apparently moved only five times in the last 60+ years. (Somebody stole de Wheels once, and it was temporarily Harry’s Café de Axles until aforementioned purloined objects were replaced.)

Anyhow, it struck me that something that is by definition mobile can become permanently stationary.

It’s called “falling into a rut.”

I confess I like ruts. They keep me comfortable. They make life predictable. I can navigate ruts by autopilot. No thinking needed. No heartbeats wasted. Gimme a rut!

But that’s stagnation. Hardly what ought to be a characteristic of the Christian life.

Brethren, I do not regard myself
as having laid hold of it yet;
but one thing I do:
forgetting what lies behind
and reaching forward
to what lies ahead,
I press on toward the goal
for the prize of the upward call
of God in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 3:13–14

This is a constant move. Upwards. Onwards. Forwards.

Finally then, brethren,
we request and exhort you
in the Lord Jesus, …
to walk and please God
(just as you actually do walk),
that you excel still more.
1 Thessalonians 4:1

No ruts. Instead, growth. Never stopping. Never ceasing. Never quitting.

… we are to grow up in all aspects
into Him who is the head, even Christ,
Ephesians 4:15

Constant growth, to look more like Christ each day.

… grow in the grace and knowledge
of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
To Him be the glory,
both now and to the day of eternity.
Amen.
2 Peter 3:18

Abandon ye olde rut!