Identity in Christ

When I began to get acquainted with Jesus in my mid-teens, I was in a pretty miserable state. I had a very low self esteem because I didn't match up at all to the sporty, trendy and confident standard expected at my boarding school. I had been quite heavily bullied and felt no one valued me, and consequently was fairly self-absorbed. One of the amazing things I discovered as I began to get to know some Christians was how precious and unique I was to God. For example Jesus illustrates the Father's deep love for us by saying that he even counts the number of hairs on our heads, he calls us children and friends rather than servants. And the Bible contained phenomenal statements about how differently God saw me (compared to the negative way other people might) and promises about how he was transforming me to become more like Jesus.

Back in my school days I gathered together a page of my favourite quotations from the Bible related to the new identity I'd come to embrace as someone loved by God. It's clear from the context that many of the verses in the Bible, for example things Jesus says to his little band of disciples, are intended not just for the immediate audience but also apply to us today. This is not always the case of course, and I have no intention of building a giant wooden Ark because I've read that Noah was once asked to do this! Anyhow, for those verses which were clearly universalisable, I look the liberty of replacing pronouns like "you" with my own name as a reminder that amazingly these truths and promises really were meant for me as well (and you too)! I wrote as an introduction that: "God treats us as individuals, He knows everything about us, yet He loves us and has made it possible for us to come into relationship with Him." I sometimes made similar sheets for friends, and they were generally well appreciated.

When I first put together a website, almost a decade ago, this sheet was one of the first pages I posted up on it. I'm mentioning it now because I just got an email from a guy in the US who stumbled upon this page via Google. He has transformed it into an online form which will generate a list of those personalised verses which can be viewed on a webpage and/or sent by email. It's a great idea, so thanks Jacob!

An eye for an eye

The famous Biblical quotation "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" (Exodus 21:23-27) is often misused as a justification for revenge and retributive justice. In fact it was instigated by Moses as a law of limitation. In Genesis there are a number of examples of people who took extreme revenge, massacering whole familes in revenge for an injury. The lex talionis inisted instead that at most the punishment for a crime should be proportionate (and that it should be exacted through a judicial process not on individual initative). Jesus challenged his disciples to go beyond this and apply a restorative justice of forgiveness and love, but let us stick now with the older Jewish law of limitation.

Do Israel's current actions in Lebanon adhere to the Jewish law of limitation? A large proportion of Israelis are secular, but given that its very identity and exclusivity are defined on Jewishness, it seems reasonable to ask whether its action match up to the standards of Jewish law.

The crime: On 13 July Hizbollah crossed into Israel in a raid which captured two soldiers and killed a further eight in the raid itself and the Israeli pursuit back into Lebanon. In the longer term, since Israel withdrew from most of southern Lebanon in 2000 (bar the disputed Sheba Farms area) Hizbollah has sporadically fired rockets into Israel causing occassional casualties (for which Israel has general responded tit-for-tat by striking Hizbollah positions). Since the Israeli attack begun it has intensified the rocket barrage and fired about 700 at last count, killing about a dozen civilians (and claiming to show some restrain by not chosing to targeting sites such as the Haifa petro-chemical plant which could cause significant casualties).

The response: For a week Israel, using its overwhelming military superiority, has bombed targets not only in Hizbollah areas but across the whole of Lebanon. Tripoli a Sunni town and the Christian towns of Zahle & Hadath have been bombed, amoung many others - these are areas where there is next to no support for Hizbollah. Lebanons only airport (which I've flow through 4 times this year) has been devestated, as have many of its roads, bridges, power stations and other infrastructure. The last count I heard on the BBC was 180 civilians killed and 450 injured. More significantly Lebanon's economy, which was finally on the road to recovery 16 years after the end of the civil war, has been set back by many years. Businesses who were beginning to relocate back to Lebanon and tourists who were starting to enjoy the cosmopolitan country will leave and not come back any time soon. This, more than the direct damage and casualties, will be the lasting legacy of the Israeli assault. Hizbollah plucked out an eye and Israel has ravaged the whole body not merely of Hizbollah but of the entire Lebanese polity.

We should not forget that while eyes are turned to Lebanon now, the daily death count in Iraq is often in the hundreds (at least 5818 killed in May and June alone), the level of suffering there is far greater. However, whereas Iraq has been in a fairly hopeless state for years now as a result of American bunders, Lebanon was one of the few areas in the region where things were looking hopeful. The Syria occupation had ended last year and the economy was begining to bloom. Now it is ruined. Killing hope is a very serious crime indeed.

I had a surreal time yestarday evening, sitting down by the Dead Sea watching a beautiful red sun set over the mountains on the Israeli side. I was with some friends (American, British and Algerian) from the UN in Beirut who'd had a 30 hour coach journey exacuating via Syria. They were deeply depressed about what has happened, each with horrific stories of the devastation and the undoing of a city, country and people they'd come to cherish.

Easter Freedom

Holy Saturday is an appropriate time to be in Baghdad. In the Gospels it is a time of gloom. Jesus has been seized by a religious militia, brutally tortured and then executed. His lifeless and mutilated body is lying in a stone tomb. His family and disciples have run out of hope and were probably afraid also for their own lives.

That situation has a immediate resonance here in Iraq. Today dozens of families will be searching through the gruesome photographs in Baghdad morgue, in search of answers they do not want to find, or discretely burying a loved one with a single executioners bullet hole in his head. The situation here is very dark indeed, as one Iraqi told me today about a vision of "a huge devil hovering over the whole country." But... we know that Holy Saturday is not the end of the story... tomorrow comes resurrection. Iraq may have to wait a little longer than that for a new government, let along a new life for its people, but as I worshiped today with the Iraqi congregation of St.Georges Baghdad, shared communion and heard their stories of suffering, I was strengthened by their faith that though the situation remains grim Jesus has indeed conquered the power of death.

As my CPT friend Jim Loney, who was freed from his kidnappers in Baghdad last month, eloquently writes today in the Toronto Star: "There are no easy answers. We must all find our way through a broken world, struggling with the paradox of call and failure. My captivity and rescue have helped me to catch a glimpse of how powerful the force of resurrection is. Christ, that tomb-busting suffering servant Son of God, seeks us wherever we are, reaches for us in whatever darkness we inhabit. May we reach for each other with that same persistence. The tomb is not the final word."

A dilemma for Bush

I have a moral dilemma for George Bush to grapple with.

Here is the situation: after a horrific accident a lady is languishing in hospital in a persistent vegetative state, being kept alive artificially. Medically she has no chance of recovering and her loving husband says she would want to die peacefully. The doctors agree to stop feeding her intravenously, and soon she will die. Only thing can force the doctors to turn her machine back on - a Presidential Decree. So what is George Bush going to do?

Wait a minute before you answer by saying you know exactly what this President, who makes so much noise about “moral values”, will do. Let me add an extra piece to the puzzle: the lady is an Iraqi. Okay, so now we have a real dilemma for Bush. On the one hand his moral values apparently tell him very clearly that he cannot let a person in this state die naturally, while on the other hand his values also tell him that the only good Iraqi is a dead Iraqi… what is he to do?

Okay so I was fictionalising my example. As you probably know Bush has just cut short his holiday in Texas in order to intervene in the case of Terri Schiavo who has been removed from a life-support machine in Florida after over a decade in a vegetative state. But she’s a white skinned American, so he doesn’t have to grapple with my dilemma, and for him the answer is easy: "This is about defending life," said White House spokesman Scott McClellan. The reason I raise it is that two years ago today Bush gave the order to begin the bombing of Baghdad, an order which has claimed the lives of over 100,000 Iraqis – the vast majority civilians – as well as at least 1700 Americans and other nationalities. These figures include 3 of my friends.

Giving Bush the benefit of the doubt and assuming that his action today is based on conviction not to gain political capital, there is indeed something to respect about spending so much effort to try and save even someone who’s life-force is so dim. Rebuplican Senator Tom DeLay says some fine words: "We should investigate every avenue before we take the life of a living human being."

The Christian faith, which Bush claims to share, holds that every individual’s life is infinitely precious: Jesus was nailed to the Cross with his arms open as wide as they could go saying, in effect, “this is how much you, each and every one of you, is worth to Me”. Given that each individual is so precious, and given that it can be very difficult to decide precisely when life begins and when it ends, it makes sense to me to err on the side of caution. For this reason I personally oppose abortion and euthanasia – although I hasten to add that I would not condemn or criminalise those who do these things with good motives, given that the issues are so complex.

What I find very hard to understand is how some people can be firmly “pro-life” in the marginal cases of the unborn, the terminally ill or vegetative, and yet “pro-death” in the case of people who are clearly alive and healthy. Where were the concerns for defending life when George Bush signed over 300 execution orders as Governor of Texas? When he ordered his military to invade Afghanistan and Iraq, did he really investigate every avenue before taking the lives of these tens of thousands of living human beings? Of course not, as Hans Blixx will testify, and worryingly I have not even seen evidence of Bush showing remorse for these murders.

Today is also another anniversary, Palm Sunday, when we remember how Jesus was greeted by crowds laying palm branches in front of him as he entered Jerusalem. How different his Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem was to that off Bush’s army into Baghdad. Jesus’ people were oppressed by dictators – Herod, Pilate and ultimately Tiberas Caesar – every bit as brutal as Saddam, and yet he refused the calls to become a military leader, to liberate his people through shedding rivers of blood. He didn’t enter the city in a convoy of Humvees and tanks (or at least the 1st century equestrian equivalents). Instead he chose the path of the servant, riding humbly into Jerusalem on a donkey and then sacrificing his life on a cross, in order to liberate not just one nation but the whole world from the cycle of violence and sin.

[Today we held an outdoors memorial service in central Baghdad, reading out the names of dead Iraqis and foreigners and praying for peace. Later we joined Iraqi Christians for a Palm Sunday service. In Bethlehem today some of my Palestinian friends are staging a Palm Sunday procession to Jerusalem - or rather to the Israeli checkpoint at the edge of Bethlehem, beyond which most are not allowed to go even though it is still many miles from the Green Line border with Israel.]

I, Robot and the purpose of life

There are some things buzzing in my head which I'm going to spit out and see if they make any sense. I've just got back from my first time in over a year at a home group (a few people from church who meet each week for fellowship and prayer). It reminded me that the christian life is meant to be lived as part of a community, and made me realise just how self-centred I've become

A lot of people think I'm a very decent and altruistic kind of guy. I've just got back from the Congo doing work on AIDS for a charity and I spend a lot of my free time campaigning on Iraq. Sure, there is an aspect of me that really wants to help people, but the truth is that I spend the vast majority of my time and energy thinking about ME and what I WANT. In fact I'm reasonably sure that I'm more self-focused now than at any point in my life, certainly since I was transformed by Jesus almost a decade ago.

I write a blog for goodness sake! Keeping a diary is one thing, but posting it online and assuming that it's worth YOUR time reading my ramblings is very egoistic. (who are you guys anyway? This blog gets about 50 visitors a day, so not Salam Pax or Instapundit (thankfully), but still considerably more than the number of people I talk to physically each week. And I can tell from some of the search engine terms used to get here that you're an interesting bunch.)

I'm trying to figure out why I've become so self-centred in order to decide what to do about it.

Certainly I've had a pretty rough time over the last few years (though not a touch on people I've met in Iraq, Congo and many here in Britain), with redundancy from a dream job, a long period of unemployment, a broken heart etc. etc. But I think the main thing which has contributed to my selfishness is a loss of regular christian fellowship. Although I have lots of friends scattered around London, it's hard to be part of a close-knit community here. So for almost three years I haven't had people to be accountable to and to pray with regularly; to share their concerns on my shoulders as well as receiving their support for me. As a result I have grown increasingly lonely and have retreated into my own head and even away from God. I think this drift self-centredness is what the Bible calls our "sinful nature", and we all have a tendency to do it unless we keep focused on God and have the support of a community.

The home group I've just joined is about to start studying together a book called "The Purpose Driven Life", and I read the first chapter on the tube home this evening. The opening paragraph is very relevant to the issue I'm blabbering about:

"It's not about you. The purpose of your life is far greater than your own personal fulfillment, your peace of mind, or even your happiness. It's far greater than your family, your career, or even your wildest dreams and ambitions. You were born by his purpose and for his purpose... You could reach all your personal goals and become a raving success by the world's standard, and still miss the purposes for which God created you. You need more than self help advice."

I'm now going to make an apparently random connection with the other book I have on the go at the moment, a collection of early science fiction stories by the late great Isaac Asimov He coined the term 'robotics' back in the early 1940s and in a series of stories laid down the classic three laws of robotics:

(1) A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
(2) A robot must obey the orders given to it be human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
(3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection down not conflict with the First or Second Law.

This laws are embedded deep within Asimov's robots and as a result, in the words of Asimov's robopsychologist Susan Calvin, in stark comparison to most humans, "robots are essentially decent... The three Rules of Robotics are the essential guiding principles of a good many of the world's ethical systems... you can't differentiate between [the actions of] a robot and [those of] the very best of humans."

Asimov's robots *have to* follow ethical rules and serve the interests of their human creators, in fact they will shut down before violating one of the three laws. Like the robots, God has programmed us with ethical rules - our consciences - something demonstrated by the similarity of the core values of most religions and philosophies. However, unlike the robots, we are not forced to obey. We can chose to disobey our Creator and act against his purposes, and we've been doing just that since Adam & Eve.

Instead of creating us as robots, God has given us free will and hence the opportunity to obey him out of love rather than robotic requirement. As Jesus told his disciples at the Last Supper:

"If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching... I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete. My command is this: love each other as I have loved you." (John 14.23, 15.11-12)

I think I've figured out the theory, but putting it into practice is another thing. I'd really appreciate your prayers that I move away from my current self-centredness and really pour my energy into obeying God through loving my fellow humans.

Karbala and Calvary

I've long been intrigued by the Shi'ite understanding of the martyrdom (shahada in Arabic) of Mohammed's descendents, particularly that of Imam Husayn at Karbala. Husayn had been promised the caliphate (leadership of the Islamic community) after Caliph Mu'awiyya, however when Mu'awiyya died in AH61 (AD680), his son Yazid seized power and wiped out Husayn’s tiny army at Karbala on Ashura, the 10th day of Muharram.

This year is particularly poignant because as pilgrims gathered at Karbala to commemorate Ashura, hundreds were killed in terrorist attacks. Also the Arba’in (the 40th day after Ashura), which marks the end of the period of mourning both for Husayn and for the Iraqis killed by terrorists, falls today - Easter Sunday, which for Christians ends the period of mourning for Jesus, being the day of his resurrection. This coincidence of dates provides an opportunity to consider the concepts of martyrdom in the two faiths.

Others have noted the similarities. Sayyed Farqat Al Qizwini, Director of Relgious Studies at Hilla University says that "Imam Hussein sacrificed himself for human beings, justice, freedom, and peace on Earth -- just like Jesus Christ did for the same reasons." Anglican vicar Ray Gaston from Leeds gave a lecture at Karbala University, this year with his own reflections on how, as a Christian, he is inspired by the story of Imam Hussein.

What strikes me most powerfully is that both Ashura and Good Friday are considered to have cosmic significance and an empathetic quality. Husayn's descendent Imam Ja'far ibn Muhammad as-Sadiq famously said that "Kullo yawm'in Ashura, kullo ardh'in Karbala" which means "Every day is Ashura and every place is Karbala". The injustice and suffering experienced by Husayn at Karbala resonates in every instance of injustice and suffering, and can comfort and inspire the victims. Ghandi said “I have learnt from Husayn how to be oppressed yet victorious.” The resonance is particularly strong for Iraqis at the moment who have been suffering so much for so long, and are able to celebrate in public for the first time in 25 years. Channel 4 produced an excellent documentary tracing British pilgrims going to Karbala, and the website contains some quotes from pilgrims about "what Muharram means to me."

Jesus, like Husayn, willingly suffered an unjust death which appeared to be a defeat but was in fact a great victory over evil that brings comfort and inspiration to the oppressed today. So Christians might say in parallel that "Every day is Good Friday and every place is Calvary.”

Just as Ashura has resonance for every time and place, so many Muslims attempt to express their grief and share in Husayn’s sufferings through self-flagellation. There are also Christians groups who practice self-flagellation. While this practice is not mentioned in the Bible, self-denial and a willingness to endure suffering certainly is. Jesus said that anyone who wanted to be his disciple “must deny himself and take up his cross daily”, while Paul talked about “the fellowship of sharing in Christ’s sufferings”, and Peter even enjoined persecuted believers to “rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ.” The Shia have always been persecuted, with the first 11 Imams all being martyred, and so have faithful Christians: all of Jesus’ apostles were martyred along with a large proportion of believers over the first three centuries under the Roman empire. The presecution continues today and it has been estimated that more Christians were martyred in the 20th century than in the previous 19 combined.

There are differences in the two martyrdoms. Husayn’s death on the battlefield was honourable, as he himself said it is “better die with honour than live in shame.” Jesus’ death however was an inherently shameful way to die (as Mel Gibson’s film The Passion powerfully depicts): he was flogged, spat on, mocked and nailed to a cross. Another difference is that while Ashura is a time for tears, Christians actually rejoice and call the day of the crucifixion Good Friday not Bad Friday.

The differences related to an underlying difference in theology. Christians believe that Jesus’ death was redemptive, that he lovingly chose to take upon himself the burden of human sin and shame in order to offer people the opportunity of forgiveness through repentance and trust in him. Isaiah had prophesied 600 years before: “He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities, the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” And the Apostle Peter wrote: “He himself bore our sins in his body on the Cross… once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring us to God.”

Some Shia do seem to understand Husayn’s death in a redemptive way, for example Martyr Murtada Mutahhari writes “Imam Husayn… has insured us against the consequences of sin in return for our tears. All that we have to do is to shed tears for him and in return he guarantees immunity to the sinners.” However mainstream Islamic thought has generally rejected the idea of redemptive sacrifice. For example Imam Sa’dullah Khan, director of Muslim affairs at the University of Southern California, writes: “Muslims do not believe that another person can die to atone for the sins of human beings. Atonement for sins comes from sincere repentance of one’s wrongdoings, and salvation lies in submission to the commands of Allah and doing righteous deeds.” This is a soteriology (theory of salvation) based on good works, in contrast to the Christian soteriology of salvation through grace ("it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith... not by works, so that you can't boast").

With regard to Jesus’s crucifixion, some Muslims such as the apologist Ahmed Deedat argue that he did not die on the cross since, without the notation of redemptive sacrifice, that unjust death would imply that his mission had failed. One common theory is that he was teleported from the Cross and replaced with someone else (usually given as Judas) who died in his place. The Qu’ran does not contain this story, and some argue that the substitution theory comes from a misunderstanding of Sura 4.157-8 (which rebukes some Jews who were apparently boasting about killing Jesus) and that when it is read in the context of Sura 3.54 ("O Jesus, I will cause thee to die and exalt thee in My presence") the Qu’ran is actually in harmony with the Gospel accounts of the crucifixion.

This is an area of intense speculation and controversy which I need to research more, as I believe that many theological disputes between Christians and Muslims result from misunderstanding on both sides accentuated by centuries of conflict. As Muslims and Christians come to understand each other's faith from the perspective of individuals' heart-beliefs and experience, they realise that there is a great deal more commonality than they might expect. This is not to imply relativism or pluralism - there are indeed important theological differences between the two faiths - but God is much bigger than any human theology and reaches out in love to all people irrespective of their background and beliefs.

Self-sacrifice in the face of injustice is at the heart of both Karbala and Calvary, and it is this kind of loving self-sacrifice from Muslims and Christians working together which can build a peaceful and prosperous future for Iraq in the face of enourmous injustices.

Recap and dilemas

Ahlan fi blogi (welcome to my blog) to Riverbend readers who've just browsed over. To get you up to speed, I'm a young Brit in Baghdad with Jubilee Iraq, a little NGO trying to help free Iraq from the burden of $200 billion of Saddam's unpaid bills. I'm consulting with Iraqis about their views on this issue in order to show the countries demanding payment how strongly they feel about this issue - basically everyone agrees that Iraqis should not be held responsible for loans which financed Saddam's regime and harmed rather than benefited the Iraqi people. My posts relate some of the frustrations and successes in this endeavour, along with random observations about Baghdad life. A quick plug, if you don't mind, for my Future of Iraq Portal which is intended to be a quick and comprehensive guide to all the websites out there relating to Iraq.

A lady called by my hotel today asking for help and I turned her away. I feel pretty bad about it, despite the numerous rationalisations I have to hand. She'd seen a reference to Jubilee Iraq, and mistakenly thought I had lots of money available to pay off people's personal debts. I didn't get a clear picture of her situation, with my minimal understanding of arabic, but it seemed pretty grim - involving unemployment, sick children and threatening loan sharks etc. My rationalisation of course is that it's the job of the state, humanitarian organisations, the local community and her family to help her. I'm working on this big structural issue of national debt and don't have the time or resources to try and understand and meet any of the huge individual needs in Iraq. Fine, that all makes sense, but nevertheless I felt like I was wrong to send her away. In the same way I struggle everytime the ragged street children come running up saying "give me dollar" - I don't want to merely hand out cash and create a culture of dependancy and encourage crowds of kids to flock round be everytime I try to leave my hotel. Nevertheless its painful to ignore the need and pretend its someone else's problem. Jesus was very clear "Give to anyone who asks you" (Luke 6.30) in His upside down economy of loving enemies and "lending without expecting to be repaid" (Iraq's creditors take note). There's no qualification "give if the person is deserving" or "give if you have time" or even "give if you can afford it." It seems incredibly demanding and disruptive of one's life, but just imagine if even a tiny proportion of the population genuinely lived out Jesus' teaching...

There was a suicide bombing of a police station in Sadr City this morning. If I'd been at work in Britain I would probably have heard about it within an hour, here in Baghdad I only found out in the evening - strange. My trip to Najaf fell though, as you may have guessed. Apparently Ayatollah Sistani is not recieving visitors for the time being to avoid accusations of being influenced by anybody. Its a pity, but I've hopefully managed to arrange some other valuable meetings for next week: with the Finance Minister, Jeremy Greenstock (the Brit who is Bremer's No.2) and possible with Ayatollah Hussein Sadr.

I had my first peak into the barricaded hotel complexes today. I visited the Hamra Hotel where may of the journalists are based and had dinner at the Sheraton. To be honest I felt quite uncomfortable in these plush airconditioned oases seperated from the real Baghdad by concrete and soldiers. I'm much happier in the friendly little Al-Fanar, mainly frequented by Iraqis and by Indian and Turkish subcontractors. Anyhow, Tisbah le khayr (good night).

Small things matter

Apologies to friends and passersby for not posting for a while. My lame excuse is busyness. Ironically I’m at the peak of that busyness now – tying up loose ends at work while preparing to go to Iraq on Friday – and yet for some reason I felt the urge to blog. Maybe it’s a moment of calm in the centre of the Hurricane, as friends over in the US recently experienced.

Things are beginning to come together for the Iraq trip. I’ve got a pile of phone numbers for people in Baghdad, but often one dials 10 times without getting a connection, because the tiny network over there is really overstretched. But I have got through to some lovely people who’ve agreed to meet me at the airport, put me up and guide me around. I suspect the trip (consulting Iraqis on their views on the debt for Jubilee Iraq) is going to require a lot of patience, probably knocking on lots of doors and waiting for hours to meet people. That will be quite a change from the hectic pitch of London life, which might actually be refreshing, though I suspect I’ll be fighting frustration. Please do pray that I have wisdom and tact, and make maximum use of the little time I have in Iraq.

Anyhow, what I really wanted to talk about in this post is: what is important? That’s a pretty huge and vague question, but I’ve been thinking about it because of a fairly mundane experience. We need a little background to set the scene for this. I rent a room in a quite an unusual flat in London. My landlord and flatmate, Paedar, is a elderly man who has struggled with mental illness – schizophrenia and depression principally – for much of his life. I’d expected that living with Paedar would be quite emotionally draining and would involve quite a lot of giving on my part, and it can be like that sometimes. But actually I’ve received a lot of support in return from him, and learnt some quite profound lessons.

Paedar likes to pray together regularly, which is good in itself as I’m often rushing around and forget to put aside “quality” time for God. We have very different concerns. As you can guess by now, I’m very focused on Iraq, and so there are things such as the dreadful bombing outside the Iman Ali mosque in Najaf, or a forthcoming Jubilee Iraq meeting with the British Treasury on my mind. Paedar’s concerns are more mundane. He finds it a great effort to do many of the simple chores of life, and can get very worried about them. So he might ask me to pray about the plumber coming around to fix a dripping tap, or that he’s able to arrange dinner with a friend tomorrow night. Sometimes I fight to keep a straight face because the requests can seem ludicrous, for example yesterday he asked me to pray that he remembers to pay a cheque for the electricity bill tomorrow (when the bill only arrived today, and he really has weeks to pay it, and he has no problem with money because of a large inheritance).

However, on reflection, Paedar’s concerns are not so ludicrous. In particular they are not ludicrous to God, and so they should be ludicrous to me. What I have learnt profoundly from Paedar is that God cares deeply about the smallest detail of our lives as well as issues of global significance. Jesus told his disciples “even the very hairs of your head are all numbered” and King David sang “Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.”

God loves us so deeply that he is concerned about anything which concerns us, even unnecessairies worries about an electricity bill. Human beings have to prioritise their concerns, because we are finite beings. But God is infinite and able to know, care and respond to a car bombing at Najaf while at the same time comforting Paedar in his worries about his daily routine. We need never be embarrased to bring a concern to God because we think it too small.

New rain and new wine

I managed to go camping during the wettest week this summer! I've been down in Somerset at New Wine, an annual Christian festival/conference, and it rained pretty continuously. Nevertheless I had a great time and had a chance to properly get to know some of the gang from St. Mary's, my church in London. In that very British way we knuckled down, barbequed in the rain and fortifed ourselves with much tea.

I was particularly excited because the keynote speaker at the morning meetings was one of my heros, Jim Wallis of Sojourners and Call to Renewal, who's been working for over 30 years to reawaken Christians to Jesus' radical teaching on social justice and nonviolence. In fact the dominant theme of the week, and the subject of many of the teaching seminars, was God's call to dramatically change our lifestyles and committee our lives to tackle poverty and injustice. On Tuesday there was a day off the usual program of worship and teaching, and a group of us went to a nearby housing estate and tidied people's gardens and cleared litter in the park (where we uncovered exciting treasures like burnt out motorbikes dumped in the undergrowth).

I haven't been to one of these big gatherings since the mid-90s around the time I first became a Christian, so it was a useful time to reflect on things I experienced back then. I happened to meet Jesus in the midst of a move of God sometimes reference to as the Toronto Blessing (since one of the first places touched was a Toronto Airport Christian Fellowship).

For the period roughly 1994-97 millions of people around the world had life-changing encounters with God. These encounters were often linked with physical manifestations, such as shaking bodies, crying, intense laughter etc. While this all seemed pretty bizarre to me and many other people at the time, in fact it is not that unusual. It seems reasonably that when God touches people powerfully, particularly when he heals them of deep emotional wounds, their bodies will react, because our minds, souls and bodies are intimately linked together. And there is a long history of people responding bodily when God is ministering to them. For example the Quakers were so called in the 17th Century precisely because they were seen to "quake" in prayer; Similar manifestations accompanied the birth of Methodism and can be seen at Pentecost (Acts.2) and elsewhere in the Bible. However physically manifestations are by no means necessary in an encounter with God. I've had dozens of profound times in God's presence, but only a few linked with manifestations, and obviously God can minister to people in quiet and stillness.

The thing that occured to me at New Wine last week was that the craziness of the Toronto Blessing period has given us real freedom in communal worship and helped us to accept unusual people. We can express ourselves to God in any way we like - in song, dancing, prostation etc. - and no one will bat an eyelid now. And having found ourselves doing strange, socially unusual things, like laughing for hours or rolling around the church floor like a billiard ball (as I did once back in 1995), we find it easier to be patient with the outcasts of society who don't act according to social norms. This is so clearly in line with God's character that I wonder whether it was one of his primary intentions with the Toronto Blessing: To remind the church, in this image obsessed age, that God embraces diversity and wierdness and we should too.