Feeding the Two Wolves

2 wolves

There is a Cherokee story of a grandfather teaching his grandson about life.

“A fight is going on inside me,” said the grandfather to the boy.

“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.”

The grandfather then added, “The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about this and then asked his grandfather,

“Which wolf will win?”

The grandfather replied,

“The one you feed.”

Perhaps the most concise film introduction to a fictional political thriller that I have seen is ‘The Kingdom’ directed by Peter Berg and released in 2007. The film explores the complex relationship of the United States and Saudi Arabia through the 20th century and post 9/11. Although the film had mixed reviews I think the introductory titles are worth watching. But even before the discovery of oil Western culture has always had a fascination with the Middle East.

Earlier in the 20th century the controversial figure ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ captured the popular imagination in the West via his exploits in the Arabian desert, dramatised through newspapers, books, and films. Michael Asher, a former SAS soldier, once retraced Lawrence’s epic journeys in his book ‘Lawrence: The Uncrowned King of Arabia’. At one point Asher writes in appreciation but also critically of Lawrence:

“Although Lawrence genuinely tried to see things from an Arab point of view, and did so more successfully than most, his technique of ’empathy’ remained a method of control. He believed the traditional Arabs morally superior to Europeans because they were ‘primitive’ and therefore ‘innocent,’ but not intellectually so. The reality of his privileged position was stated frankly when he wrote: ‘Really this country, for the foreigner, is too glorious for words: one is really the baron in the feudal system.'”

ships of the desert

Trying to comprehend the turbulent relationship that the West has had with the Middle East may help us to understand how this influences the relationship of Christianity with Islam. Thoughts may quickly race to the period in history known as the Crusades. This will often be a starting point for many people, but it does not have to be the end. For example, amid the strife of the Fifth Crusade a little-known true story of hope can be found.

If you were asked to think of Saint Francis of Assisi you would probably picture a medieval saint, dressed as a monk in a brown habit, and surrounded by animals. Unfortunately this caricature does not reveal the depth of character of this revolutionary Christian who had a profound interfaith encounter with a Muslim during the time of the Fifth Crusade:

In 1219 an encounter took place between a Christian from Italy, Francis of Assisi, and the Islamic Sultan of Egypt, al-Malik-al-Kamil. This meeting took place at Damietta in northern Egypt during the progress of the Fifth Crusade. Over a period of perhaps three weeks, religious dialogue took place between Francis and Al-Kamil, after which time the Sultan had Francis escorted safely back to the Christian camp. It is possible to discern from the writings of Francis after his return from Egypt that the meeting had a deep religious impact upon him in the latter years of his life. It can be said that both Francis and al-Kamil experienced through their encounter what the Christian theologian Bernard Lonergan has spoken of as a conversion into a new horizon. The historical encounter between Francis and the Sultan witnesses to the fact that through religious conversion, it is possible for members of different religious faiths to arrive at a common vision of universal peace and reconciliation.”

Dr Paul Rout OFM Heythrop College, University of London

St Francis and Sultan

Which is the wolf we are feeding?

The story of St. Francis and the Sultan is a salutary reminder not to demonise whole peoples due to the terrible acts of individuals or groups driven to violence. Even before the recent and tragic events in France and Germany in the past week or so, social media has empowered us to provide immediate responses in the public domain to such acts, including those denouncing religion as a ‘primary motivation for violence’ from which we need to be freed.

Although this is an understandable reaction the truth is that motivations often tend to be far more complex and involve a number of factors. This is something I have briefly tried to illustrate in the examples provided in the relationship between the West and the Middle East. And although the British scientist and atheist, Richard Dawkins, has publicly denounced religion, there is evidence that suggests that only 7% of all wars in history have truly been caused by religion.

Totalitarian regimes such as the Soviet Union under Josef Stalin in the 20th century have been far more lethal in the eradication of human life for the sake of political ideology. It is generally agreed that Stalin was responsible for the deaths of 20 million people. It seems we will always find a reason to kill one another, with or without God.

Stalin

I accept it is easy for me in the comfort of my home and cocooned within the security of a western-liberal democracy to make these statements. I also appreciate that political and religious extremism of whatever kind not only exists but demands our attention in the 21st century. But extremism is simply that – most people in the world want to live an ordinary life. That is important to remember and to communicate to one another too.

I believe we are all ‘fearfully and wonderfully made’ (Psalm 139:14). Whether that is your belief or not we still have a mutual responsibility to engage with that which appears to be in juxtaposition to all that we are. Whatever our creed, ethnicity, or culture, we have the ability to communicate and potentially co-operate with one another like never before.

But will we?

Which is the wolf we are feeding?

Whatever we say –

our children will live with the answer…

where are we going

Personally I do not believe in fate but in free will.

Choice lies in our hands…

palm trees

 

Neighbours

It all began on Facebook.

In Minnesota, USA, a young African-American woman was describing through live video feed how her boyfriend had been shot and killed by a white American police officer who had stopped them initially for a faulty break light on their car.

It escalated into the murder of five police officers in Dallas by a sniper during ensuing peaceful protests.

In less than a week it was captured in what some describe as an ‘iconic’ photograph by Jonathan Bachman going viral on social media, depicting the contrast between the lightly clothed Ieshia Evans and heavily armoured police in Baton Rouge.

At the heart of these related events a timeless question emerges:

Who is my neighbour?

Social media is nothing more than a mirror on human nature. For all our advancements in communications technology it seems we still have a deep and sometimes dangerous fear of those different from ourselves. We have an unparalleled freedom to communicate which also provides a platform to amplify our fears of all that is ‘other’.

handy apps

Who is my neighbour?

This question was once posed to Jesus who responded with what is called the ‘Parable of the Good Samaritan’. Jesus did not invent parables but he did use them to great effect. A parable is literally something “cast alongside” something else. Jesus’ parables were usually “cast alongside” a situation in order to illustrate a truth.

The phrase, ‘Good Samaritan’, is still used and generally understood to mean someone who goes out of their way to help someone. That being said, the parable of the Good Samaritan can be misunderstood. It may be reduced to a story of showing kindness or we may think of the volunteer organisation, ‘The Samaritans’. But in Jesus’ day Samaritans were hated and feared.

Who were the original Samaritans?

Samaritans were related to Jews but due to historic events were racially different to some degree and accepted only the first five books of the Bible – the Torah. They once built a temple on Mount Gerizim to rival that of Jerusalem. But about 200 years before Jesus was born, a Jewish reformer destroyed it. Then around 6 BCE Samaritan activists scattered human bones in the temple in Jerusalem, desecrating it. There was open hostility. Most Jews practised a kind of apartheid to avoid Samaria ‑ a convention Jesus broke (John 4:1-42)So let’s revisit this story to discern what Jesus really said about who is our neighbour.

easter dawning

What does it mean to live a good life?

In essence that is the question that is asked of Jesus which we are told in Luke’s gospel (Luke 10:25-37) prompted him to reply with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Loving God and neighbour is the verbatim reply of the questioner based upon Deuteronomy 6:4-5 and Leviticus 19:18 but it is clear it is an unthinking response. This is underlined by his next question, “And who is my neighbour?” At which point Jesus tells the parable.

In the parable a man travels on the Jerusalem to Jericho road. Jerusalem is 3,000 feet above sea level.  Jericho is 1,000 feet below sea level.  This is a steep road.  Its geography provides ideal hideouts for robbers. Part of the route is nicknamed ‘Ascent of Blood’ and was familiar to Jesus’ audience. Unsurprisingly the traveller falls among robbers.  But they didn’t just rob him.  They stripped him, beat him, and left him half dead.

What is going to happen next?

I once knew a person who coined a phrase, ‘PLU’, meaning ‘People Like Us’. In essence the first two people to find the victim are ‘People Like Us’: respectable, God-fearing people, who obey the law and practise common-sense. In the context of the story the religious law forbade Jesus’ contemporaries to touch a body that to them probably appeared to be dead. Worse, it may even have been a trap on this notorious road, similar today to people stopping to assist an individual in distress and then being mugged by the rest of a gang in hiding. Therefore both PLU’s in the story pass the victim by.

What would you do?

good samaritan

Will anyone do what is needed?

The idea of a Samaritan being a good neighbour to a Jew would stun those listening to Jesus. This is the punch line. The one who stops and helps is a Samaritan – neighbours are not by default those who are PLU’s but those who dare risk compassion. The question, “Who is my neighbour?” is answered by Jesus that it just might be:

“The last person you would want living next door to you.”

The one to love is the one we are not loving. From Samaria to Baton Rouge: if Jesus were to tell us this story today, who would be the Samaritan for us?

Who is my neighbour?

The world still longs for an answer in more than just words. Like the victim in the parable lying on the road, needing more than a prayer. There is only one answer and always has been – from our neighbourhoods to our ‘Global Village’:

Be the neighbour you long to meet.

Or as Jesus said at the end of his story, “Go and do likewise.”

glass stained planet

What’s in a Name?

forbiddenfruit_Fotor

Steve Jobs was once asked where the name for Apple Incorporated came from. In Walter Isaacson’s biography of Steve Jobs written in 2011, Jobs is quoted to have said:

“I was on one of my fruitarian diets…I had just come back from the apple farm. It sounded fun, spirited, and not intimidating. Apple took the edge off the word ‘computer.’ Plus, it would get us ahead of Atari in the phonebook.”

Earlier in the book the author deflates one of the myths associated with the Apple name:

“At one point I emailed to ask if it was true, as my daughter had told me, that the Apple logo was an homage to Alan Turing, the British computer pioneer who broke the German wartime codes and then committed suicide by biting into a cyanide-laced apple. He [Steve Jobs] replied that he wished he had thought of that, but hadn’t.”

What’s in a name?

A great deal as the above stories illustrate. From the baptisms I have conducted I know that parents sometimes go to great lengths to choose a name for their child and according to the Bible the first job given to the first human being, Adam, was to name the animals. (Genesis 2:20) Even Jesus was not averse to giving his followers nicknames such as ‘Peter the Rock’. (Matthew 16:18)

Names therefore have the ability to be creative, inclusive, affirming. But names used negatively have the ability to do the complete opposite and become destructive, exclusive, undermining. Names have power to build up and break down. From pet names, to nick names, to rude names – we learn the power of names from the playground upwards.

legion

In the Bible names were also understood to have power and to know someone’s name was in some way to have power over them. This may sound strange but if we think of how acutely aware we all are in our own age of ‘identity theft’ then perhaps this idea may not seem quite so unusual after all. Names existed not only in the physical but in the spiritual realm. And it is with that idea in mind that we come to a story often called ‘The Gerasene Demoniac’. (Mark 5:1-20 & Luke 8:26-39)

Significantly this story doesn’t ever tell us what the man’s real name was. I’m sure the Gerasenes had some names for him. Like ‘that crazy guy who lives in the cemetary.’, or ‘demon possessed.’ Such possession is part of common experience still in some parts of the world, but in the West it is more difficult for people to accept. However, I find that more people believe in the supernatural, whether they are religious or not, than may admit – it’s just that it is generally one of those things we don’t talk about. Behind that probably lies the fear that we may be made fun of, illustrated by such comedies as ‘Rev’.

So let’s picture the story of the ‘Gerasene Demoniac’.

Like some horror movie the story begins with the disciples crossing a stormy sea and nearly drowning. They reach Gentile territory, that is non-Jewish, (ie) people not like them but instead to be avoided, even feared. A passage possibly referred to is from Isaiah 65:2-5. Here are characterised the outcast of God as living in tombs and eating pig’s flesh, so it is interesting to wonder whether the gospels want us to draw conclusions as to what sort of person the demoniac is. ‘Beyond the Pale’, might be a more modern phrase?

This is a foreign and dangerous place, where the demoniac lives howling among the tombs.  Jesus commands the demons to come out, and sends them into a herd of pigs that stampede over a cliff. For the man they were possibly a visible sign of his exorcism. All stuff that even if it does not sound scary by today’s horror standards – does at least sound strange.

Quite rightly, people struggle with this story. Some have said there might be political undertones relating to the occupation of Israel by the Romans. We should take note of the demons being named “Legion” (a legion being a Roman term for 6,000 soldiers), suggesting a symbolic defeat by Jesus in the stampeding pigs who run off the edge of a cliff? If you wish to explore the political overtones of this story an excellent starting place is ‘Binding the Strong Man’ by Ched Myers’.

cyberhal

But of course we may have other names for the ‘Gerasene Demoniac’ today. Names like ‘Paranoid Schizophrenic’. And that in some ways may be even more difficult to address than the supernatural. Mental illness is one of the last social taboos in this country – which is ironic because at least one in four of us in the United Kingdom will suffer a mental health issue in our lifetime.

Some of the stigma that surrounds mental health issues is probably connected to the fact that behaviour is often altered and no visible physical signs can usually be seen, such as in the case of a broken leg or someone who is blind. This may disturb us deeply because we may associate this with a loss of ‘self’. Personally I have found the slow disintegration of Hal’s mind, the computer in the classic film ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’, far more moving than perhaps it was originally intended to be.

The relationship between mental health issues and the new challenges presented to us due to technological change is worth noting at this point. ‘iDisorder’ is the title of a book and a theory by research psychologist, Dr. Larry Rosen. Rosen explores the common desire for many people to constantly remain ‘connected’ through their smartphones and other communication devices. In the final chapter of ‘iDisorder’, Rosen says:

“…many of us are on the verge of an iDisorder as our daily interactions with media technologies may be imbuing us with signs and symptoms of one of many psychological disorders… Luckily for us, our brains are constantly changing. Neuroscientists call this ‘neuroplasticity,’ which is basically a constant process of strengthening and weakening neural (nerve cell) connections in the brain as a function of our experiences…. Given that our brains are inundated with stimuli all day long and that the digital content currently available in our world is the equivalent to everyone in the world tweeting or blogging constantly for a century, neuroplasticity is a brain-saver.”

Are we in a healthy place?

The ‘Gerasene Demoniac’ is not some arcane story from the past, indeed it may have much to say to us today. Let us remember that instead of calling this poor man names, Jesus asks, “What is your name?” Let’s think about that for a moment. Everyone was spending a lot of time calling the man in this story names. Yet they didn’t bother trying to name his problem. Jesus was able to see past the labels, name the real problem, then help the man.

The uniqueness of Jesus was in his understanding and practice of healing as revealing and releasing God’s creative and loving Spirit to act upon the moral, mental and physical illnesses of the people and the community around him. Even today, we spend a lot of time labelling people. We name people all the time, whether we admit it or not. But it is good to remember the first thing that Jesus asks is, “What is your name?”

So just what is in a name?

When dealing with demons it’s everything. Those who have dealt with demons of every kind, including addictions will tell you that admitting and naming the problem is half the solution. Naming the demon is the first step in controlling it and being freed from it. Too often we cannot name our own demons – we need help. Naming demons means recognising we are not in control, that we are not as strong and self sufficient as we wish to portray we are – or feel we are expected to be.

What’s in a name?

I don’t fully know – but I need to think about it the next time I’m tempted to label someone. The name of the illness does not become their name. ‘Legion’ may not have remained as the man’s name. And just think what a significant thing it is to change your name. How often do we do that? Usually when something life-changing has happened. Healing then becomes more than the restoration of mental or physical health. It is nothing less than a new dignity and identity. A reconciliation within the self and often with God, that acts as a sign of hope.

What’s in a name? New life – potentially.

What’s your answer?

Name it.

The Somme in Time

time

I wonder if you have a favourite Doctor Who?

Mine is John Pertwee, with his yellow vintage car, ‘Bessie’. It is amazing to think that this famous Time Lord has been on our television sets for over 50 years.

We only have to double that number to 100 to bring us to the date being remembered today – 1st July 1916.   In the United Kingdom and beyond, this date is being remembered in services and silence as the beginning of the Battle of the Somme.

The British Army suffered huge losses – 19,240 on the first day alone. The tragedy of the Somme marked something of a ‘sea change’ in the British nation’s attitude to ‘The Great War’ or World War One. Arguably the war that continues to define our modern age. One reason being the enormous, industrial scale, of killing that took place.

I have already quoted some numbers and they can be hard to comprehend. But the soldiers who died in World War One on the British and Commonwealth side alone was brought home to me in the poppies seen around the Tower of London in 2014. A vast field of red ceramic flowers, 888,246 poppies, each representing a life. I saw it with my youngest son and together with the crowds of visitors we found it humbling, moving, breath-taking.

poppies

Trying to take in the scale of this may feel like like trying to comprehend time itself. For some years I was a chaplain for a local branch of the Royal British Legion. What helped me comprehend some of the significance of Remembrance Sundays and other events were personal stories amid the vast statistics of destruction.

One of them was Rev. Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy – nicknamed ‘Woodbine Willie’ – a name fondly given to him by the soldiers. Armed only with a packet of cigarettes and his faith, he dwelt among them. I am not promoting smoking but the cigarettes helped relieve their battle stress, was a rare comfort along with his listening ear, and Woodbine Willie helped the soldiers cope with unimaginable horrors each day.

I believe it was for them something of a ‘communion’. A special word for Christians. But a word that simply means, ‘common unity’ or ‘deep fellowship’. Woodbine Willie shared that fellowship in the trenches, and made God known through what he shared. Eventually Woodbine Willie was awarded the Military Cross with this citation:

“For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty. He showed the greatest courage and disregard for his own safety in attending to the wounded under heavy fire. He searched shell holes for our own and enemy wounded, assisting them to the dressing station, and his cheerfulness and endurance had a splendid effect upon all ranks in the front line trenches, which he constantly visited.”

One story – amid a vast field of memories. One that reminds me we can make a difference in what may feel like a sea of chaos and sacrifice. There are so many stories that could be shared, but there is not enough time. Silence is probably best, even if it is only for 2 minutes. But 2 minutes can feel like a lot, just as 100 years can feel like very little. Time is relative.

We are not Time Lords. We cannot change history. But we can learn from it. That is the message I once shared at a Remembrance Sunday service where there were many young people and families present. Remembering these events is not about glorifying them but trying to avoid the terrible mistake of repeating them. That is why we should never forget the sacrifices made.

emergence

We have no time machine to make things right, but we can share what Woodbine Willie shared in the trenches – faith.

  • Faith in a better world that can come through the chaos of war.
  • Faith in one another that our only hope is in working together.
  • Faith that good can finally overcome evil, even if that involves terrible sacrifice.
  • Faith in God – the Lord of Time.

We cannot change the past 100 years, but we can learn from it and faithfully shape the future. ‘Tomorrow’ is a precious gift that the words of the Kohima Epitaph remind us, has been entrusted to us by those who gave their ‘today’.

Thanks to them the future is ours. Time is in our hands. In that sense we can be ‘Time Lords’. So let me just say this: “Travel well.”