Advent One - Waiting - 36 weeks - 4 more to go.

Mother and Child
by Fritz Stuckenberg, 1920
credit: Artprinta.com
Yale University Art Gallery

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour, for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the imaginations of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” - Luke 1:47 to 55

Four more weeks to go.....

The birth of a child is an incredible thing.  The day before (just about), you nip out to the shops, go to the cinema, stay out late.  The next day you are confined to barracks with a helpless individual that you are just getting to know.  You're hardly friends, but your love for them is overwhelming.  What do they do?  Cry, wee and pooh; sleep, and wave their arms around.  Yet we have been waiting so long for this.  We are ready.  We love this 'bud' that is yet to bloom.  We have faith that our relationship will grow and develop. We see the potential.  All this effort is worthwhile, for now, and for the future. 

Mary rejoices, but she is also aware that the potential offered in this small person is extraordinary.  She is aware that the choice of her is not a lottery.  She symbolises the Creator's complete disregard for the pathetic power structures people create between themselves.

Having a baby is a bit like an arranged marriage (or perhaps any marriage).  I choose to love you and I hope that our relationship will grow, just as you grow.

PRAYER: May my relationship with you continue to grow.  I become aware of your presence with me as an ever attentive mother.

PS Referencing the picture, Fritz Stuckenberg was born near Bremen, northern Germany in 1881.  He was part of the European Avant-garde, and involved with Der Sturm, and Bauhaus.  The Nazi government categorised his work as Degenerate.  His work was largely forgotten until 1993.  

“To be, or not to be; that is the question.”

From Jilji- Dying in the desert

 Oft quoted from Albert Camus:-

“The literal meaning of life is whatever you're doing that prevents you from killing yourself.”

How does this relate to the assisted dying debate?

There are three main issues that have been discussed and come to my mind.

1) Most people will have experienced that period of time, perhaps three to six months, where our loved ones have declined in health, and ceased to really be alive.  When the news eventually comes of their death, it is a painful relief, because we know it is the right thing.  Generally this is when people are old, and as I say “move into the zone” (in an age bracket where people are culturally expected to die.) 

When in this situation, it is generally the case that the loved one is not likely to be able to give informed consent about their wish to 'jump’.  Society already has many solutions, including strong pain killers, which act a grease to smooth the journey towards the inevitable.

For me, seeing the process of natural death was very comforting, though I am aware that my experiences have been blessed by excellent medical and hospice support.  The challenge for the point here is in defining ‘end of life’, what is considered 'normal' where the slope over the cliff becomes clearly visible.

2) There is much talk about the social context.  As with abortion, there is a risk in assisted dying that we 'short cutting' some of the big questions of inequality in our society.  The issue of choosing to die is so shocking that it may help us illuminate this area, for now, while it remains shocking.  There is a world of difference between dying surrounded by loving and devoted family, in a comfortable home with good quality care, and dying alone in a smelly bedsit, in misery.  Much of the discussion focuses on the personal “It’s my life, and I can die is I want to” sentiment.  “Give me the choice”.   We imagine ourselves with these future dilemmas before us and say well at least I will have the choice, even if I don’t use it.  But we also imagine ourselves as we are now, with our ‘powers’ and facilities intact.   

3) Then there is the issue of mental wellbeing, and this is what Camus is referring to.  Camus noted that the most important decision for us to be made each day, is to decide to live.  This needs to be a conscious decision.  Today I will live, with all that means.

As a Christian I also unite with people who have a relationship with the divine.  Life is a precious gift, to be cherished.  As we say, my life is not mine actually, but entrusted to me by God.  In the old days, and in countries with out the props of the health service, this issue is hardly relevant.  But like the stories of the dilemmas presented to aboriginal people in the Australian severe conditions of the outback, where people were forced to live, as related in the wonderful book called ‘Jilji’, sometime old age can be a matter of life and death.  Jilji describes the practice of deciding with an old or infirmed person, whether the survival of the whole community is at stake because of their chronic needs.  Together they decide to leave the infirm person under a tree, with water and food for a few days, but them move on as a community.  They return some weeks later to bury their loved ones body.  This is staring the realities of death and suffering straight in the face, and feeling the dagger enter the heart.  Our pontifications pale into insignificance compared with this.

Reference: Jilji- Life in the Great Sandy Desert (1990) by Pat Lowe with Jimmy Pike. Magabala Books 

Where are you? -Who are you? Was I deceived?

Painting in the Barber Institute, Birmingham,
 by Pierre Purvis de Chavannes

In my mind's eye I see John, the cousin of Jesus Christ, siting in a stinking unhygienic prison cell beneath the palace of Herod in Jerusalem.  John is recalling how when he saw his cousin approaching in the wilderness he had been inspired to call out to the many people who had come to see him, that Jesus (his cousin) was the one to revere.    John saw his role as illuminating the ancient truth that the one who had been prophesied from long ago had at last arrived.  Obeying Jesus, he had performed the ritual washing ceremony, and heard a voice declaring this truth, as if from heaven itself.

But now John was feeling bleak.  He had stuck to his guns, and refused to recant his belief that Herod had done a terrible thing by marrying his brother's wife.  He was going to suffer for this, because it was truly bad for Herod's reputation.  Did Jesus know John was in this pickle?  Did he care?  Could he do anything about it?  Perhaps his cousin was a mere moral after all.  Perhaps John had been ill, or deluded.  

John's friends went at John's behest to seek clarification.  Was John going mad?

The friends came back with this report from Jesus.

“Go and tell John what you see and hear. The blind are made to see. Those who could not walk are walking. Those who have had bad skin diseases are healed. Those who could not hear are hearing. The dead are raised up to life and the Good News is preached to poor people. He is happy who is not ashamed of Me and does not turn away because of Me.” Matthew 11 4-6.

John knew that Jesus had said far more than 'don't worry'.  Jesus was saying there is a purpose here.  It will work out.  There is no easy way out and that Jesus was not going to intervene in the world's power structures.  Indeed Jesus would go on to suffer far more than his cousin.  But the end goal would make the suffering worthwhile.  

Jesus himself said, and no doubt John said it before him, "Not my will oh Lord, but your will be done."

This is Purvis de Chavannes' first picture. 
National Gallery London

The Problem with Time

Credit: Mental Floss

We haven't got much time to talk about time.  Time is something special about this world.  All things are bound by time.  In the next world we think of time as not existing in the same way.  The concept is of eternity.  Therefore this world will soon be over, so let's get on with it.

When my aunt suggested I had my teeth straightened, I think I shocked her when I said "it will be a waste of time, I don't plan on living that long".  The optician assured us that the £1000 horn rimed glasses would last a lifetime.  I said- "not very good value then."  The older you get, the less attractive 'things' become.  The moment is far more important.  

The only bit of life that really exists is the spit second of this moment.  All else is in the past, or yet to come.  This moment can be anticipated, and it can be remembered, but that's about it.

Current models for the  time humans have been around put it at about 150 thousand years (give or take which website you read).  Neanderthals, who humans may or may not relate to, are said to have been around from 130 thousand to 400,000 years (Natural History Museum).    

Organised religion of the modern era has been around for 4000 to 5000 years.

The current thinking about the origins of our solar system is that it is 4,6 billion years old.  The idea is that a giant cloud of dust became unstable and collapse in on itself, rushing together to create the big bang.

The earth got into a giddy spin, but it is slowing down now.  It may be that in the past the rotation of the earth occurred much more quickly.  A year would have happened in a week.  The whole evolutionary process may have happened on fast forward.   Perhaps the creationists are correct after all.  It all happened in 4000 years.  

The expanding universe, where is it expanding into?  Does it sit like a marble in the palm of God's hand?  We cannot conceive of a universe without edges. Perhaps edges and time go together.

Anyway, I think that is enough for now.