Thursday, 4 November 2010

Faced with a furnace, how strong would your faith be?

I've never published any of my fiction writing on this blog, but today is going to be an exception.  Today WordLive, the Bible engagement site I use posed this question, based on Daniel 3: "Faced with a furnace, how strong would your faith be?"
Along with it was a picture, and perhaps it was that which made me think and engage a bit more than usual.  I ended up writing the story- if you can call it that- below from my thinking about that.  Maybe it'll help you think too.  Or not.  But here it is, anyway.

   She stared at the gaping orange mouth of the furnace.  Even at this distance she could feel the heat, and see it glowing red between the cracks in the wall.  
   She had always loved fire.  Fire gave warmth and light, it could be used to cook.  It gave life; it spoke of companionship and comfort.  But she was terrified of pain, and burning to death had seemed almost the worst deaths she could imagine.  So really, it was no surprise that she should face it now, the ultimate temptation.    She could not take her eyes off the glowing death before her, beautiful in its’ ferocity and destructive capability.
   She thought of the pain as the fire would catch on her clothes, her hair, her very self.  A strand of hair had fallen across her face, and with her hands tied she could not move it.  Her quick imagination thought of it catching light, of the flames licking their way up it towards her face, her eyes...she flinched from the mere thought.  She wondered how long it would take for her to be consumed, how long she would have to endure before the relief of unconsciousness and death would come?  The light alone was blinding, the heat enough to make breathing difficult.  
   Her faith faltered in the face of such terror.  She couldn’t go through with it.  She was alone, and afraid, and face to face not only with that terror without, but with her inner fear.  She didn’t feel that she mattered.  Why should He, the One above, bother to save her?  It wouldn’t make any difference to the world.  Why should He even bother to help her bear what she must go through?  She was just one little person who didn’t really matter.
   But that wasn’t the point, was it?  It wasn’t about who she was, but who He was.  She had been praying in her heart for courage and strenght from the moment she was brought in, and now her prayers stepped up a level, with almost incoherent urgency, begging her God to have mercy and not make her go through with this.
   The king interrupted her.  “Your last chance,” he said.  “Now you see what will happen to you if you refuse, will you bow down and worship as I command?”  She looked up at him, desperate, terrified.
   “No,” she said.  “I won’t do it.”
   “Throw her in,” he said.  A guard lifted her up, and quickly, unwilling to stay near the fire for too long, threw her, bound, into the heart of the flames, too scared even to scream, trying still to pray but unable to think anything clearer than, “Lord, help!”
 

Monday, 1 November 2010

Not the 95 Theses

It's Halloween-tide.  Or, alternatively, All Souls/ All Saints'.  It's also the anniversary of Martin Luther's posting of the 95 Theses against the sale of Indulgences and abuses in the Roman Catholic church in 1517, something which to me is rather more important than either of the other two festivals- well, I am a historian!  While it's not entirely correct to call it the start of the Reformation, or to say that before this the Church was entirely without merit, it was a significant action if only because of what came after, and has had a profound impact both on the Christian faith (what it means to be a Christian) and on world history and politics to this day.

So I thought I'd attempt to write some theses of my own.  Not that I expect them to have the impact of Luther's 95 (although I doubt he was expecting quite what he got...).  And I'm afraid that 95 would be too long for a modern blog audience's attention span.  So here's 9 and a bit.

Luther's theses were directed against abuses he saw as exploiting the poor and giving people a false idea of what God was all about.  That's something that gets my goat too so here's some ideas.  Theses such as Luther's were intended to be were less dogmatic statements of belief as propositions for discussion and comment so please bear that in mind.  Anyway, see what you think. 


1. Christian organisations should learn to put God's kingdom first in all their plans (not profit), and to have the priorities that God would want (care for the weak, acting in love).  Actions such as American Christian TV stations threatening local youth groups because they share the same name shouldn't happen.

2. Christians should learn to listen to each other and consider the other person's reasons before dismissing beliefs they consider backslidden and wrong.

3. Christians should not engage in 'political' manouverings against each other at the expense of those outside the church (or indeed within it) who can't see what all the fuss is about.

4.  Christians should be willing and able to defend themselves, reasonably but not aggressively, against the false claims and accusations of others.

5. Christians should not try to hide the fact that they are imperfect but to be honest about their failures.

6.  Christians should heed the advice of various new testament writers to 'live good lives among the pagans' and seek to be a group of people who are part of this world- but who outsiders can see are 'different' in a positive way.

7.  Christians should be willing to recognise the skills and talents of every member of their congrergations and to train and develop them.

8.  Christians should seek to be part of a community that cares for both its' members and those outside. 

9.  Christians should remember that love and justice are God's motives, and that they should be ours too and are good clues as to what God wants us to do in tricky situations.

9.5 Same as 9 above.  "For God so loved the world he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him shall not die but have eternal life."  Our motivation and our mission statement.

Tuesday, 5 October 2010

Can I take a moment of your time?

I really haven't posted enough lately.  I have been busy with many things, none of them fitting the both categories of a) interesting and b) suitable to blog about quickly.  So instead here's a quick reflection on something else.

It may just be my imagination, or a local or seasonal trend, but I think there have been more charity 'salespeople' about recently.  By salespeople I mean those people with clipboards who try to grab you in the street and talk at you until you give them money, or who go door-to-door doing the same thing.  The RSPCA have been particularly active in the area where I live lately.  Perhaps it's due to a downturn in donations due to the recession, or capitalising on public sympathy in the wake of the 'cat in a bin' news story. 

While I have every sympathy with charities (often very good causes) trying to encourage donations, I find these kind of activities quite annoying.  I don't want to be made to feel guilty for not giving money to sick rabbits when I'm in the middle of cooking tea or going to work.  Often the people who try to talk to you in the street adopt the technique (at least with younger people like me) of trying to mildly flirt with you to get your attention.  The (young) male canvassers aim for the women, the women for men.  I wouldn't feel comfortable with that behaviour from a stranger normally, why should it encourage me to talk about charitable giving?  But often it's hard to get them to take 'no' for an answer, and they make you feel rude for ignoring them.
 
I do give to charity.  But I like to choose for myself, not to be pressured into it by strangers on my doorstep or trying to distract me when I'm in a hurry.  I'm sure their causes are very worthy ones, but so are many others.  Which I give to is my choice, and pressure is going to make me less likely to give, not more.  There's a difficult balance to be achieved, from the charity's point of view, because while too much nagging can put people off; without sufficient publicity people won't know about the charity or it's cause, and won't give either.

It struck me that actually there's an analogy to be drawn with the way the church- or parts of it- often do evangelism.  Perhaps for some people the pushy, in-your-face style of proclaiming the gospel and forcing people to listen to it whether they like it or not works, as it must do for some charities and their donors.  I imagine, though, most people have a similar reaction to me with the charity canvassers.  That's what I've gathered over years of trying to talk to friends about faith.  Being continually badgered about something when you don't want to be makes you less inclined to think about it, creates a resentment that then needs more work to be overcome. 

That's not to say we shouldn't be talking about our faith, shouldn't be making the gospel public.  But Jesus, we're told, doesn't force his way in to people's lives.  He wants to be invited.  We can't force people to open their doors to him, we can only encourage them to invite him in.  And constant nagging doesn't do that.  It's a difficult balance.