God Has Left the Building

Today Pope Benedict resigns his office as the leader of the Roman Catholic church. And the above title was that given to an opinion column in the weekend Portuguese newspaper. It drew my attention, partly because the title was in English, whereas the rest of the piece, as the rest of the newspaper, was all in Portuguese, and partly, because it seemed mildly shocking for a country that continues to be for the most part fairly traditionally Catholic.

I thought the last paragraph by the writer, Luís Januarío, commenting on the ways in which the news of his resignation was received by the leaders of the Church, was worth recording here.

“It’s a symptom of the times, he writes, that the cardinals of the various factions, seemed to making declarations (about the pope) in the manner of professional politicians of a modern democracy, rather than in the old roman rhetoric. Applauding the decision of the Pope, many of them seem to be ratifying the secularization of the church and admitting that their High priest, is in fact an ordinary human being, albeit a saintly one, with a right to retirement and to resign his post. No longer, does it seem, is he the Holy pope of the Catechism, who was first infallible, then infallible in questions of faith, but finally, now one like the rest of us, capable of good and bad decisions”. God, the article, concludes is no longer in the Vatican.

Uncommon Grace

I listen quite regularly to Desert Island Discs. It’s one of those old radio programmes that has continued to be broadcast by BBC Radio 4 since time immemorial. The formula consists of an interview with a well-known personality linked with their favourite pieces of music and what those pieces have meant to them at certain times in their lives. It’s a simple formula that has stood the test of time, and hardly changed since the fifties. 

I was very impressed with the interview Aung San Suu Kyi, the Burmese opposition leader, gave on the programme last month. There are certain people in this life, and in history who cut across the neat Christian theological distinctions of common and special grace. (That distinction is, that, whereas all of humanity enjoys a common sense of the grace of God, special grace belongs to those who, through faith and repentance, have trusted in the redeeming  power of the  blood of Christ, and as such, confess Jesus as their Lord and Saviour). 

Aung San Suu Kyi is not a Christian. Her Buddhist faith is very important to her. And yet she displays in her bearing, in her statesmanship, in her conversation, an uncommon grace, and it’s impossible not to be aware of the image of God in her. At the end of the interview, when it is standard for the interviewer to offer any choice of a book, besides the Bible and the works of Shakespeare, to take with them to the desert island, Aung San replied that she would treasure the Bible, seeing that she often used to read it aloud to her maternal grandfather when his eyesight was failing, as he had previously converted to Christianity.

But I was struck by something she said about the nature of sacrifice. She was asked about the price she had paid for her political principles in terms of an almost lifelong separation from her husband and family. 
“When you have chosen a certain path in life” she said,  “you should walk it with satisfaction and with determination and not try to make it appear as a tremendous sacrifice. That can be like looking for something back in return for the sacrifice.Whatever you do out of your own free will that, in itself, should be the gift you give to the cause and to those you love." 

Whether it’s out of political motives, or from a religious or missionary calling, that’s a good principle to reflect on when you’re tempted to think that God, or the world, sort of owes you something for all that you’ve done and given up.

A River Runs Through It

At the weekend, we travelled to Bucharest for the wedding of Sam and Ioana. The Air France flight took us via Paris, and the takeoff from Charles de Gaulle on a crisp winter morning afforded us a magnificent view of the Seine curling through the city, and the famous landmarks of the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe and Notre Dame. 

I like to get a window seat when flying in Europe. There’s something magical about rising above the streets and buildings, and out into the cloud filled blue. And what stirs the imagination most for me is the sight of these great rivers, whether Tejo or Thames, Seine or Danube, snaking their way through the intricacy of the urban landscape. The river running through it gives the city it’s soul, creates the dividing line between the natural architecture of creation and the concrete and glass. And for getting around, is always there as a snaking landmark, giving you your bearings (which is probably why I never seem to enjoy Madrid that much - it just seems to be one big urban sprawl).

“There is a river whose streams make glad the city of our God”. Psalm 46 makes a clear connection between the River and the City - the river as a source of life and freshness, the river cleansing and gladdening the heart of man.  From my ninth floor window, with the sun shimmering over the surface of the River Tejo as it passes through the city of Lisbon, I can well understand that imagery. This great body of water, passing beneath the bridges on its way to the sea, brings in fresh supplies of water every day, and carries all the waste and dross of the city out to the ocean.

Biggest Wave in the World

Some people come to Portugal with a single purpose in life - to be able to surf on some of the biggest waves in the world. Last week, Garrett Macnamara  flew half way across the world from Hawaii to do this, and broke his own previous world record, entering into the annals of surfing legend by riding what was believed to be a 100 feet monster in the Atlantic off the coast at Nazaré!  He described the experience as  “.. like snowboarding down a giant mountain. You're just chattering, flying down this bumpy, bumpy mountain. Your brain is getting rattled.”

It made me think about what drives a man (or a woman) to travel half way around the world like that to ride a monster wave. Anna also voiced it by asking “Now, how did he happen to know that by coming to Nazaré on the 28th of January he would find his record wave?” Of course that is as much down to a bit of scientific know-how as anything else - ocean topography, currents and weather patterns and all. But the fact is that Garrett, and many others like him, will dedicate their lives, their income and their relationships to following the surf.

Question I am pondering. How much do I dedicate my time and resources, and how much do I research and seek to understand, in order to ride the wave of God’s will in my life? For, if you talk to any surfer, it’s the thrill, the energy and the power that they want to experience, and that makes them follow. Well, what greater power is there in life, than following after the Creator of this world, in His plan of restoring all things to Himself? My, I need to get onto that wave!