The Trees in Winter

This time last year, during the winter lockdown in Athens, we spent a lot of time walking the lower slopes of Mount Ymittos on the eastern side of the city.  (Athens is surrounded on three sides by mountains, Parnetha to the west, Penteli to the north, and Ymittos to the east). It was fascinating watching the trees change as the Greek winter set in. And, a proper winter season it turned out to be. With strong winds and showers. We even had one memorable week, when a foot of snow turned our neighbourhood into a winter wonderland. It was particularly odd to see the orange trees with a covering of snow - the fruit continues to tenaciously hold on to the branches.

Again, last year in Athens, I remember talking on this, the “trees in winter”, to our small group that met in our house through lockdown in Athens on the first Sunday of advent. I talked about two “trees in winter” that Luke mentions at the beginning of his Gospel. Zechariah and Simeon, two old men, who were carrying on their traditions, going through life, and yet, at the same time carried within them the seed of a hope of the coming Messiah. And each one responding very differently to the realisation of that hope, one with shock and disbelief, the other with eager expectation and joy.

Today, I find even more hope in a word from Psalm 92, about trees.

“The righteous” it says “will flourish like a palm tree … 

.... grow like a cedar of Lebanon…

 ..they will still bear fruit in old age, 

     they will stay fresh and green.”  

Nice!

The Trees in Autumn

My friend sent me this photo for the tree in his garden a few days back. His "burning bush" he called it. And it is. 

An autumn blaze of colours.

We haven’t experienced autumn in Ireland for some time.

Both Greece and Portugal kind of skip a proper autumn season.

Summer merges into winter over a scant few weeks.

The leaves turn a kind of muddy brown and then quickly drop off when there’s the first sign of wind.

Van Morrison sings about this wondrous Irish Autumn, full of golden glory, in “Orangefield”:

On a golden autumn day 

All my dreams came true, in Orangefield.

On a thrones of Ulster day 

You came my way in Orangefield,

And the sun 

Shone so bright

And it lit up all our lives.

The thing about autumn leaves is that they don’t actually change colour. Those glorious colours are already there within the leaf from springtime. It's simply that the green chlorophyll pigment dominates during the days of spring and summer. With the ending of summer, the chlorophyll production switches off, and those orange, yellow and amazing reds, emerge in all their glory.

Makes me think how we move through the seasons of life, and a different sort of glory emerges when we get older and into the autumn of life. That's a nice way to think about this age we're in, when all the world seems consumed by the energy and excitement of youth. Hmmm, yes. I think the autumn colours suit me.

The Cloud of Unknowing

On the morning after I heard from the dermatologist (David, who is also a good friend) to confirm that the fresh spot on my thigh had been diagnosed as a new melanoma deposit, these were the verses from the Bible that appeared in the Daily Light : 

        “When I sit in darkness the Lord shall be a light unto me”     Micah 7:8       

       “I will lead the blind in ways they do not know; along unfamiliar paths I will guide them: I will make darkness light before them….”  Isa 42:16         

      “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you…” Isa 43:3  

Wow, I am thinking, could that have been more closely related to my current situation, especially as I still wait for the results of two recent scans? It’s almost as if someone had selected these scriptures specifically for me, which would have been tricky, seeing that the November 20th selection had been chosen by Samuel Bagster as far back as 1875 when Daily Light was first published. It is by no means the first time, though, that God’s voice has come loud and clear through the daily selections of this wonderful little book.

So, yes, I walk in darkness, but in that darkness the Lord is my light. My path takes me along along unfamiliar ways, but he continues to lead. I feel I am in the middle of a flooded river, but it’s not gone over my head. It has made me think also of an anonymous work of Christian mysticism from the 14th Century. Called “The Cloud of Unknowing” it speaks about a way of approaching God through contemplation. 

       “For the first time when you lift your heart to God, you will find only a darkness”, he writes, 

“…and as it were a cloud of unknowing [...] this darkness and the cloud are between you and your God, and hold you back from seeing him clearly by the light of your reason and understanding…”

It appears that "not knowing" has an important part to play in this path toward knowing God and the way that he has set out for us. I feel I am only beginning to understand that. The trick for me, is to be comfortable with the “not knowing”, to rest, through trust and resignation, in the reality that I have no idea what lies ahead, but that it's in the hands of a good God.

T S Eliot in his set of four long poems called “Four Quartets” expresses it like this : 

    In order to arrive at what you do not know

You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.

In order to possess what you do not possess

You must go by the way of dispossession.

In order to arrive at what you are not

You must go through the way in which you are not.

  And here’s another quote that I like from the amazing Corrie ten Boom 

           “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God”.

Thaitanic

We pass this Asian street food cafe on our way from the train station up to the Meeting Point in the lower Lisburn Road. I like the name they’ve adopted, though I haven’t tried the food yet. It kind of captures a snapshot of where Belfast is at just now, its history of the shipyards and other stuff, now conflated with the present reality of a vibrant city welcoming tastes and cultures from many other parts of the world. 

The International Meeting Point is situated just a few doors up. We go there every Thursday now to help out with an Alpha course that is being run there. Many of the more recent arrivals to Northern Ireland show up there, from Africa, Middle East, Asia, and elsewhere in Europe. There’s always a welcome, a warm cup of tea, and all sorts of help being offered, with learning English, filling out forms, clothing and food. Hats off to Henry, Keith and Janette, and Sharon for the amazing work they have been doing, walking alongside newcomers in those early days of getting used to a new place and integrating into a different society and a new way of life. 

The Alpha Course is much more than just listening to a talk. It’s centred around a video presentation of what the Christian faith is about. But it’s also about meeting together, conversations and connections, and in my case, trying out the few words of Farsi that I have learned (this course is being offered in the Farsi language). Also listening to stories of hard journeys, and arrivals, of loved ones left behind, and of hopes and dreams for the future. Some of those hopes and aspirations have also been left behind in the harsh reality of trying to make a fresh start in Europe. In the words of author Elif Shafak ‘left behind, like wisps of wool caught on barbed wire during their fence crossings’. 

This session, the topic was prayer. What prayer is, how and when to pray, and especially that praying to God is centred around the reality of a personal relationship with God. For many, for whom prayer was mostly a religious ritual conducted in a language not their own, the idea that you could simply talk to God in your words and at any time, and that He would hear, was refreshing and new. There were lots of very stimulating conversations. 

As we considered together dark times too, when God does not seem to answer our prayers, the quote that resonated most with me, and my own situation was from something Corrie ten Boom wrote :

         "When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, 

             you don't throw away the ticket and jump off. 

                  You sit still and trust the engineer.”

You trust the one who knows more about the path you are taking and who is able to bring you to the destination.

Listening Beyond

It’s the little details in those familiar stories of Jesus in the gospels that sometimes take you by surprise. You think to yourself, ‘Hmm, I’ve never quite read it like that before’. So here he is on his way to the house of this Jewish leader. He’s on the way to attend to a sick girl, the man’s daughter, who may in fact be at the point of death. The members of the man’s household have come from the house to meet him. The narrative says that Jesus ‘overheard’ them as they came with the news that the girl had already passed away and that it was hardly worth Jesus coming any further. Instead he encourages Jairus, to ‘not fear, only believe’.

Now the word ‘overhear’ we usually take in the sense of ‘eavesdropping’ or accidentally listening in to the conversation of others. Here the meaning is a bit different. The word that translates ‘overheard’ is ‘parakouo’ in the Greek, which literally means to hear alongside, but also carries with it a sense of hearing, but paying no heed, or deliberately disregarding what’s being said. In a sense, you could say it means ‘hearing beyond’, or hearing what’s said alongside you, but listening out for another voice, and I kind of like that particular idea.  

It’s something I think I need to learn more of. These days there are many voices around, some that come from rationality and science, (obviously, when it comes to discussing my medical situation), others that come from well meaning and caring friends, and some voices from within my own head, that arise more out of fear and anxiety than anything else. I need to learn to listen beyond all of these voices, for the voice of the Master. That voice which gives meaning to our current situation, that sets it against the perspective of a greater purpose and plan, and thereby a place in which to shelter and find comfort. I suppose it’s much the same as it is for the sheep, who are attuned to the shepherd’s voice, and instantly recognise and follow him, because they instinctively know that’s where their source of food is, that’s where their security lies.

* Mark 5:35-36

Proud Waves

 

On a morning like this, with a stiff north westerly wind blowing in and the sea a turbulent mess of foam and curling waves, what better than to walk down and watch the sea crash over the harbour wall. The tide is fully in. The boats have all been pulled up the slipway because of the heavy seas. 

As I watched the water’s force, it put in mind Job’s poetic utterance in Ch 38.

 “I fixed limits for it

    and set its doors and bars in place,

“This far you may come and no farther;

    here is where your proud waves halt!” *

Attaching a human attribute like ‘proud’ to the movement of the waves might sound odd, but it’s entirely appropriate. As you feel the force of water smashing against the rocks and hissing up through the blowhole, it is as if a massive surging power were seeking to assert its authority over this manmade structure. Break down the harbour wall. Wash over the slipway. Destroy the little boats.

Having lived in at least two maritime nations, you can’t escape the power and influence the sea wields over the collective imagination, especially in ports and fishing communities. Both the Greeks, and in particular, Portuguese have a rich heritage of stories, and poems and music, that arises out of their dependence on the seas. The Greeks have Poseidon with his trident and great white beard. The Portuguese explorers, as they rounded the Cape of Good Hope, imagined the sea as some great monster blocking their way - Adamastor, described here by Luis de Camões in his 16th Century epic poem "The Lusiads".

            Even as I spoke, an immense shape

                Materialised in the night air,
            Grotesque and enormous stature
           With heavy jowls, and an unkempt bear

               Scowling from shrunken, hollow eyes

But here’s the thing. There are limits to the oceans’ arrogance. There’s a protection in that “Thus far and no further…” Even with climate change and the threat of rising sea levels, there’s always a sense in which limits have been set. The power of the ocean is restrained. The One, of whom it is written “He upholds all things by the word of his power..” And “in Him all things hold together”.. holds the oceans in check.

So, I’ll keep my eye on the tides, and head down for a dip in the Herring Pond, only when the waves are well below the breakwater!!

And in the meantime, I’ll listen to my favourite piece of 'sea music' from Portugal.

"Ao Longo do Mar" by Madredeus

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCQpycvSF24

This Time Last Year

This time last year, we were still managing to attend Greek Language School at the Athens Centre in downtown Athens, before a general lockdown was announced and everything went online.  One morning, on the way to the school, crossing a park from the metro station, I encountered Samuel Beckett. Not in the flesh I might add. But the words of the poet were inscribed in a public park in Athens. And I’m thinking, an Irish poet in this land of Sophocles and Euripides and what not? 

So, when you come up out of Metro Evangelismos and you make your way downtown, you cross Rizari Park, a small patch of green in the urban grey of the city, and here, the feet of countless pedestrians have beaten out a “desire line” through the grass, that is to say, a natural footway has formed diagonally across the green instead of the prescribed pathways constructed in stone. Here, an art installation has been recently designed over the "desire line". Paving slabs have been laid out on the grass with these words of Samuel Beckett inscribed in both English and in Greek.

“..if you do not love me I shall not be loved

if I do not love you I shall not love..”

For me, it speaks powerfully to commuters who pass by each day, of the need to express love and compassion to those who are passing through and arriving into the city. But also, and especially in Greece, this land which has received and welcomed many more from other distant lands than most countries in Europe, it speaks of those who have also beaten out their own "desire lines", direct pathways to escape from the chaos and horror of where they have been and seek out peace and security in some new and unknown place. My prayer on that morning walk in November last, on behalf of my adopted city, was that we may be among those who love the stranger, the alien, and who build bridges and not barriers.

Based as we are for now in Northern Ireland, and hearing about one hotel in Belfast currently housing 280 asylum seekers, and a larger number of others also expected to arrive between now and Christmas, I guess that prayer is renewed. May we also as a nation be among those who will show love and compassion where people have only encountered rejection and hate.

“..if you do not love me I shall not be loved

if I do not love you I shall not love..”

Eagles and the Contrary Wind

Yesterday was my second PET Scan. PET stands for Positron Emission Tomography, as if that would help you understand what’s going on. Let’s just say its about taking a good look inside. A CT scan follows next week.

So, there I am, lying flat on my back, with a radioactive potion swirling around my insides, now being elevated above the ground and floating off into this whirring humming cylindrical tube. It was an other-worldly experience. In fact, whereas the first time round back in July, I found the whole thing uncomfortable, scary, and claustrophobic, this time it was as though I was buoyed up on the wings of eagles.

Talking of which, these last two weeks, unbelievably, have been a real-time experience for me of what Isaiah talks about when he says

‘they that wait on the Lord shall soar on wings as eagles” *  

and what David describes, when he writes 

“your youth is renewed like the eagle’s”. *  

I just feel so “carried along” as it were, during this time,  with a sense of  renewed vigour and, dare I say it, youthfulness. Even Anna remarked, yesterday  “I don’t know what those pills you’re taking are doing, but your hair looks really healthy”.  These days I’m happy to grab whatever compliments I get!

The eagle, of course, soars skilfully using updrafts and thermals to rise ever higher, and does so, seemingly without any effort, which is probably how it comes to personify, for these biblical writers, the easy strength of youth. It puts me in mind of yet another couplet, this time from an Urdu poet, that takes me right back to the days when we lived in Pakistan and learnt that wonderful language in the early 80’s. 

Tundi-e-baad-e-mukhalif se na ghabra ae uqaab

Ye tou chalti hai tujhe ooncha uraaney ke liye

Fear not the contrary wind, O Eagle

Know that it only blows so that you can fly yet higher.

Those contrary winds, then, that have been blowing in and through our lives these past few months, are they not also designed to carry us yet higher, and to soar on wings as eagles, and to see more clearly, and begin, in some small way, to comprehend God's grand design in taking us along this particular pathway?

• Isaiah 40:29-31
• Psalm 103:5

Long Live the Liver!

“Who cares what your liver looks like, if you have all your teeth” 

says one of the main characters towards the end of the novel I have just finished reading. It is called, “A Long Petal of the Sea” by Isabel Allende, a lyrical sweeping story carrying the reader through a huge slice of twentieth century history from the Spanish Civil War to General Pinochet’s Chile. Well worth the read. 

The character, Victor Dalmau, toward the end of his life, was musing over his failing health and the ageing process in general. So his comment made me think about the connection between inner health and outward appearance - how I am and how I feel. For a lot of the time along this journey with cancer, I have felt, well, pretty normal. Sometimes a bit weak, but in general, I feel good. I certainly don’t feel like s seriously ill person.Yet, the internal examinations tell a different story. This latest struggle to get my liver back to a normal way of functioning is a case in point. Every day the tablets. Every week a liver function blood test. Then every Friday a call from the cancer team in Belfast to discuss the result. This last Friday I got my best answer yet. Your liver is back to normal! You can reduce the dosage now gradually down to zero, and then we will discuss the next steps. Great news!

Now the liver is a pretty formless sort of an object. Laid out on the slab on the butcher's counter it is hardly the most attractive cut of meat on display. Yet, apparently the functions it performs within my body are endless. It processes the nutrients that I eat, removes toxins from the bloodstream, breaks down proteins, monitors the sugar content and supports my immune system. Where would I be without my ugly old liver?  

Bill Bryson says of the liver “It is the most multifariously busy organ in the body, with functions so vital that if it shuts down you will be dead within hours … It is essentially the body’s laboratory.”

So, I guess I should care about how my liver looks, more than the state of my teeth. But here’s the point, and it's a point that Paul makes also when he’s writing to Timothy *. It’s often the quiet work going on in hidden places by ordinary people, that is not for show and does not hit the main stage, that keeps things going in life and adds health and vigour to society. Those quiet acts of kindness and compassion, that purify our world.

* 2 Timothy 2:20