The Deed and the Doer

On a T-shirt, a rainbow, and a play on a sacred word, there is offence enough to summon a mob. 

Yet before we take up arms for our gods, we might ask whether Western Christianity would truly accept an Arabic Christ, and whether we have the sense of the old cow, who eats the hay and leaves the baling wire.

This is a reflection on symbolism, belief, and the fine but firm line between the deed and the doer.

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An AI-generated infographic on the blog content. (Click to enlarge.)

Where Offence Begins

Religious symbolism, individual perceptions, and beliefs provide many opportunities to take offence. This became the core of a conversation in which I was invited to comment on someone wearing a T-shirt depicting a religious personality, with a play on one of the final words of supplication or veneration, all set in the context of human sexuality.

At first glance, there are so many things capable of causing offence, ranging across a spectrum from the merely unfunny, through the disrespectful and the sacrilegious, to outright blasphemy.

Each could attract anything from a simple flinch to an outrage that seeks out a mob for retribution, all in response to this perceived denigration of symbols and language. Such reactions often arise in the quest for an expansionist embrace of all things represented in our humanity; a sometimes-worthy goal, though one that needs wisdom in its deployment.

I will not dwell on the particulars of the item itself, for my concern is not the object but the impulse it stirs in us; the principle interests me far more than the personality behind it.

Confrontation and Its Limits

I would suggest that the confrontational approach sets people up against one another. It might well be a way of challenging norms, yet it is rarely the means by which one wins converts.

In terms of religious figures who walked the earth more than a millennium ago, it is quite unlikely that anyone truly knows what they looked like. The pictures we see of them today are figments of human imagination and artistry, quite awesome and commendable, but not real. For those who claim to have had visions or apparitions, my view is that revelation is only presented to the limit of one's capacity to perceive.

Depictions and Idolatry

Depictions might offer a sensual connection to the unseen, but they do not replace it; to think otherwise opens one's appreciation to a form of idolatry. Then again, depictions can be instructive or misleading. 

For instance, the European masters have in many cases depicted Jesus Christ as Caucasian, with northern Scandinavian features, when, by reason of history and region, He would most likely have looked Arabic. Such features would not have made Him seem alien, nor His parents, when they sojourned in Egypt at the time Herod massacred every boy-child in Judea under the age of two.

The question then becomes this: would Western Christianity have been amenable to an Arabic, Black, or Asian Jesus Christ? Now, that is to court controversy, meddling with images and depictions preconceived to accentuate belief, yet upended by reasonable supposition.

The Lesson of Gideon

I am reminded of the story of Gideon in the Bible, who one night destroyed the idols of his community, so that they rose up to put him to death. His father was able to convince them to let the offended gods avenge themselves.

We should be careful of emasculating our deities by offering to fight for them as though they were utterly powerless, because the deeper issue is this: if a god cannot fight for himself when slighted, what is the power we believe he possesses? Gideon came to be known as Jerubbaal.

Belief and Fellowship

We all believe differently, to the extent of our own persuasion, and we do let the beliefs of others influence us, hopefully to buttress what we know rather than to pull apart and pull down our creeds. At worst, those who choose to meddle with the elements of our foundational beliefs put themselves at risk of forsaking our fellowship, communion, and friendship.

They might be misguided, but it is impossible to read motivation or intent from afar; we are left with our conscience to decide. One may hold an act to be unwise, even unnecessary, without presuming to indict the one who acts; the deed and the doer are not the same thing.

Perhaps I feel quite unperturbed because, in the admonition of one preacher, I have as much sense as an old cow: I eat the hay and leave the baling wire. The beliefs we hold are like seeds sown, which will grow in the ways we allow, for the ground of our hearts tends the seed to be fruitful, affected by heat, thorns, or weeds, for it is in these very things that offence reveals itself.

Keeping Offence in Perspective

Yes, we do get offended, but we must limit the impact to two things. First, the offender acts in a foolishness that does not engender the best of our humanity. Secondly, for all the offender does, I do not attach myself so closely to any man that I cannot cut loose when he is falling into the ditch.

The offender might be worthy of rebuke, and in extreme situations they might find themselves in receipt of mob violence. Even where the latter could be justified, I would not subscribe to it. We are allowed to deviate in how we believe, and to break away if no compromise can be found.

At the intersection of symbolism, language, depictions, and beliefs, the apparent offence of any one thing is kept in perspective. Another's journey, leading to redemption or perdition, is theirs alone; I refuse to follow in folly.

A Gemini Notebook AI Podcast on this blog

Feeling the warmth of a community church

Decisions for the good or the bad

We had a decision to make about where to attend a church service today without making the mistake of visiting a church with a self-absorbed worship team entertaining a congregation that was failed out of not being spiritually fed. At least that was our impression of the Hillsong Church in June.

We dared think of returning hoping that our first attendance was an off day, but we wrote to both the Cape Town campus and the mother church in Australia, and we received neither an acknowledgement nor a response. We had better go to a place where they are courteous and welcoming.

Blog - Between haughty Hillsong and bounty biltong

Planning without yawning

From Muizenberg to the St. George’s Cathedral, quite unlikely; when getting Brian out of bed on a Sunday morning is a herculean task at best, just perish the thought. So, I did a survey of churches in Muizenberg and two evangelical churches caught my interest, small, out-of-city, new, and growing. We set our minds on staying in Muizenberg.

It would have been a 45-minute walk or thereabouts, but we called an Uber taxicab to convey us to the Main Road of which there might be hundreds in South Africa, we had to be specific before I repeated the mistake of finding myself 33 kilometres from where I intended in Johannesburg, some 9 years ago.

Welcoming warmth and feeling

On arrival, we saw the church flagpole, but unsure of ourselves, we waited outside before someone came to the door. They were friendly and welcoming, and as she invited us inside, introductions followed. They all came to welcome and greet us.

Interest and engagement were evident in a small community church that espoused our Pentecostal beliefs. It was there that we learnt that a priest we knew at St. George’s Cathedral, the cousin of a congregant, had passed away last year.

As we were similarly attired, they wondered if we were band or choir members, we tend to turn heads on Sundays. I said we were partners, but they heard brothers even as I repeated myself. We eventually acquiesced to whatever they wanted to identify us as.

Simple yet impactful

It was low-key, intimate, and friendly. I was called forward to be prayed for, and the sermon was informal and easy-going with contributions from other members of the congregation. I began wilting later in the service but survived to the end before needing the use of the gents.

I took the offer of rooibos tea which I rarely have, sweetened without milk, it tasted good enough, I however do not intend to form a habit of it. We had a splendid time at church before walking back home. We will probably be returning next Sunday.

Between haughty Hillsong and bounty biltong

Giving thanks but no thanks

It was with great anticipation that we decided to choose Hillsong Church as the place to attend to give thanks and praise for triumphing over situations and circumstances that had befallen us for the last couple of years.

From a natural perspective, many things seemed insurmountable but providence and good fortune even with limited resources gave such an opportunity for celebration and we were excited about it.

We arrived at the church in Century City, just outside Cape Town and followed the crowd into the building. An usher was closing access to the first entrance to the hall we got to until I said we were first-time visitors. We were allowed into the darkish hall with bright lights on the stage as the praise and worship session was about to begin.

We found seats, squeezed between people who appeared to want to be elsewhere as we joined in congregational worship, and we just went with the flow. Once everything was done, we left as we came, unnoticed, unengaged, and quite unwelcome too. We were blessed but did not have the feeling that we would return.

Surely welcoming is standard church practice

Cape Town is an international tourist destination; we usually attend St George’s Cathedral when in Cape Town and we have always felt welcome. One would expect as with church traditions we have witnessed in many places that there is an acknowledgement of visitors to the fellowship with an opportunity provided to meet up with new faces, presenting the church as a welcoming and open community.

We found it quite strange that at no time during the 11:00 AM service we attended at Hillsong that visitors were welcomed or acknowledged. The church was just busy, too busy being church and probably feeling too full to notice anyone attending for the first time. My partner felt that the worship leading had become a self-absorbed performance to entertain us, it was lots of activity accomplishing little.

Maybe it was an oversight as it did bother me, I volunteer as a steward in my local church in Manchester, we welcome people as they come in, the clergy acknowledges visitors during the service, and everyone is invited for refreshments at the end of the service. We are a community regardless of when you come or where you come from.

Writing to the blind and deaf

I decided to write to the church about our visit and the atmosphere we encountered, apart from a boilerplate response, no one acknowledged or replied from the church. Seeing that the pastors of that church had gone on to lead the global fellowship. A few days later, I forwarded my original email to the main church in Australia, another boilerplate response without acknowledgement or reply.

Even for a business, basic standards of professionalism would suggest a basic response for emails sent on the 25^th of June and then on the 3^rd of July, the substantive elements of our experience and observations might be dealt with later.

It is not a scandal, we eventually concluded Hillsong had decided we did not matter, and we could not have been so uniquely affected, we were random worshippers who thought there was a prospect of adding a Pentecostal flair to our Anglican devotion in fellowshipping with the Hillsong community. We can however conclude there are more issues in that family than meets the eye.

Biltong engagement was much better

In comparison to the biltong shop that used to be in the Time Out Market that moved into a vending van at the other side of the Watershed at the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront, even after almost 2 years of last patronising them.

The different vendors that manned the van on the separate days that we bought biltong were enterprising, engaging, welcoming, friendly, and inspiring of the desire to return. It is quite bizarre that I am comparing Hillsong to biltong, much was desired of the former, but we found a better relationship with the latter.

Everything is about establishing connections for human relationships, if a church cannot effectively do that, it has by all terms lost its purpose. In my email, I did suggest that we were not trying to change any Hillsong traditions, just highlighting something that could be useful.

My experience with Hillsong London was different, but that was 11 years ago before the scandals happened. I have written a bit about those issues before, my feeling is things have not changed, a window dressing does not a shop make.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Where Everybody Shares Your Pain (August 2013)

Blog - Hillsnog: How the scandals at Hillsong took root (September 2021)

Blog - The Hillsong controversy and resignation (April 2022)

Anno Domini nostri Jesu Christi 2023-24

A course not corrected

I find it interesting that my blogging process has still not changed 20 years and a month since I started a blog. The last blog I wrote started on a different premise, I was thinking of writing about how the last year ended and the new began.

Then I guess rather than adopt a course correction based on original intent, I usually allow the organic flow to whatever reach and extent that blog veers to as I write. If this were a professional rather than a personal blog, I might need a bit more discipline by keeping my writing within the confines of the topic of my intent, yet the freeform has its uses.

It is like where would the mind take you to where imagination and imagery is given free rein, untrammelled by style, use, or expression? That is where Brian would suggest that some blogs I have written have sprung from just one word said in passing, the seed from which paragraphs and blogs become a harvest to publish.

Christmas and anniversaries

The highlight of Christmas Day was in the Sung Eucharist at Manchester Cathedral, which was televised and broadcast live, my seat inadvertently secured by the chief steward eventually gave me a bit of prominence at the gospel reading and at other times. To that, I can only say that since I have begun volunteering as a church steward, I have been more blessed in serving than I could have imagined. [BBC iPlayer: Christmas Morning Service from Manchester Cathedral]

It was quiet and reflective though made memorable by the insistence of my neighbours who persuaded me to join them for a late evening of festivities. Brian and I marked the 5^th anniversary of my relationship in the same week as I began to think of what I needed to do to usher in the New Year.

However, there was another Sunday to face where I was scheduled to give the first reading at church, the Sunday falling on New Year’s Eve. I was given a reading from the Book of Isaiah to review only to find out as I checked the lectern before the service that the reading had been changed to a New Testament reading from Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians. The passage was familiar enough, I only had to deal with the dread of hearing my voice amplified. Apparently, the cadence and my voice were good.

An elderly fellowship into 2024

Having received a text message from a charismatic church I attended in the summer; usually an evening service rather than the main one, they were having a New Year’s Eve service to see in the New Year and without priced tickets too.

I must have been the only guest in the congregation as everyone else seemed to know each other. I was welcomed by many and held in conversation with some who took more than a cursory interest. I was also acknowledged as an elder, I guess I have not helped my youthful cause by the use of a walking cane, though my facial features might belie some passage of time.

We had a diverse buffet before the praise, worship, and prayer session ushering in the year 2024. It was a blessing to find such a company of saints to fellowship with. 2024 has begun in earnest and before us is the opportunity to write new stories.

Looking forward to meeting in church

We are back in fellowship

Through the many emails that I now receive from our church in Manchester keeping us abreast of issues, news, and events, I learnt we were now having in-person congregational services in the church cathedral. I do not know when that was reinstituted, but I do remember it is something I have missed during this pandemic year.

It was almost midnight and I was not sure if I felt it safe enough to attend. In any case, I logged on EventBrite, the ticket booking app and registered to attend the Sung Eucharist this morning. However, well into the morning, I had not convinced myself it was something I wanted to do.

Then out of bed I leapt, had a shower and dressed up as if ready to go. By the time, it seemed I might just do it, it was 15 minutes to the start of service that will take almost a 20-minute walk. One of the stays on my mask came apart and in the flux of the moment, I decided, it was better to watch the service on Facebook Watch on my television.

Remembering the times

At communion, I recognised a number of acquaintances, it was not a busy service and I could see myself attending next Sunday. It was literally a year ago on the 8^th of March that I attended the last service in person before my concerns about pandemic safety kept me away the next Sunday after which the country went into full lockdown until the month of July.

I do hope that this is the beginning of some return to a kind of normalcy, I was last in church on the 1^st of November, just before the second major lockdown. 10 days after my first vaccine jab, I should begin to feel a bit safe whilst not dispensing of the essential COVID-19 safety measures. There is hope and possibility beyond what we see today.

Thought Picnic: Where Everybody Shares Your Pain

Some cheers for the dawn

This morning I woke up to the playback in my mind with the refrain - Sometimes you want to go, Where everybody knows your name – and as I thought that through, the words of the song formed into a sense of existence - And they're always glad you came.

But, I really did not feel like being there, the familiarity, the catching up, the questions, the answers, the concern, the sympathy, the empathy and much else was weighing on my mind – I wanted to be present somewhere whilst being absent elsewhere.

Somewhere elsewhere

Basically, I did not want to be where everybody knows my pain, and whilst some might be glad I came, I was not ready to take the strain, even though my excuse does sound lame.

There were some things I was not ready to deal with until a more convenient time. So, I moved to another section of the song - You want to be where you can see, Our troubles are all the same; - I wanted to be in church, just not my church.

Antipodean flavours

My friend observed that the churches I seem to have an affinity for were planted by Australians, I dare say, there is something refreshing about the antipodean perspective of the same revelation that has been in Europe, gone to America to be exported round the world and emanating from Africa too with the contaminants that belie a tendency to error, levity and licence, I am persuaded of a different allegiance.

And though having attended C3 Amsterdam and now C3 London, I found myself visiting Hillsong London at the Dominion Theatre on Tottenham Court Road where I found welcoming and friendly faces unified in song and common humanity that one had to reflect on whether one was being swept away by the awesomeness of mass hysteria or a personal experience similarly expressed by others.

Words and meanings together and apart

I began to understand the need for songs if you did understand what the words meant; for in song, you invariably were chanting the affirmative in the structure of verse and chorus almost repetitively without it becoming a mantra – the accompaniment of music then engaged your whole being with some being exercised or overcome with emotion.

There is life in participating, and when the prayers are said, you being to realise that our troubles are more or less the same and we all want insight, ideas, inspiration, results and solutions to take us to a better place.

Sometimes, that is what church is all about, amongst friends and amongst strangers, the fiendish and the strangest things can find root, but we can find firmer foundations in how we believe that together we can reach for a better day.

Cheers!

Making your way in the world today 
Takes everything you've got; 
Taking a break from all your worries 
Sure would help a lot. 
Wouldn't you like to get away? 

All those night when you've got no lights, 
The check is in the mail; 
And your little angel 
Hung the cat up by it's tail; 
And your third fiance didn't show; 

Sometimes you want to go 
Where everybody knows your name, 
And they're always glad you came; 
You want to be where you can see, 
Our troubles are all the same; 
You want to be where everybody knows your name. 

Roll out of bed, Mr. Coffee's dead; 
The morning's looking bright; 
And your shrink ran off to Europe, 
And didn't even write; 
And your husband wants to be a girl; 

Be glad there's one place in the world 
Where everybody knows your name, 
And they're always glad you came; 
You want to go where people know, 
People are all the same; 
You want to go where everybody knows your name. 

Where everybody knows your name, 
And they're always glad you came; 
Where everybody knows your name, 
And they're always glad you came...

Theme song for the situation comedy TV series – Cheers, written by Gary Portnoy & Judy Hart Angelo – Where Everybody Knows Your Name.

The Great Peace of Sabbath

Decisions far and near

Commuting for just about 4 hours a day means that weekend nights are not as available to fritter away even if one were propped up with artificial stimulants.

I had just cried off going to the Swingin’ Safari restaurant [1] which would have been a trip to The Hague from Apeldoorn, no problem with that, there are direct trains, but the thought that I would not be back home till the witching hours having left home at dawn did not appeal to me.

Besides, I am not your best car passenger, I prefer a Flintstone car ride [2] of manpowered acceleration than the daring-do of a car pretending to be in a Formula-1 race and I have been a few without being able to protest too loudly since I do not drive.

Missions revisited

Out of the blue came a phone call that flashed up a number and name I had not called for 5 years and I took the call with full recognition of the caller to find out that this contact had been instigated by visitors from the UK who were missionaries to non-Christians and those who through conversion had been ostracized from their communities.

They were once in the Netherlands till the laws on missionary work changed unfavourably about 6 years ago, so they moved to the UK where their work has been a blessing to many untold.

In the end, I was invited to dinner where my friend had whetted my appetite for roast lamb, potatoes, corn on the cob and other taste-bursting accoutrements, I could not refuse.

Sabbath Shalom

I arrived just before 19:30 having push back their dinner some 90 minutes, but it was handshakes, hugs and kisses as renewed our fellowship and friendship as well as an introduction to a family that had grown from just 2 to 5.

We were going to have the Sabbath meal [3]; so we sat at the table solemnly, lit the two candles, broke bread, poured the wine and the water and we sang the Sabbath Shalom song after which the blessing came at the end with Jewish chant.

We then got up, fell on each other’s necks, kissed and blessed each other and commenced our dinner.

The loss of Christian roots

At which point I lamented the fact that most of Christendom had lost its Middle-Eastern roots of community, fellowship, sharing and love.

We had become informal, indifferent, individualistic and literally independent of each other where togetherness, fellowship and the ability to share our deepest feelings with trusted co-religionists could help lift the burdens and find real solutions.

It began the discourse about the role of religion in humanity, the need to ensure that man is not sacrificed on the altars of customs, traditions, sacraments and creeds noting that Jesus clearly said the Sabbath was made for man [4] and not man for the Sabbath.

The gospel is the focus and viewfinder

We learnt that Christianity is still about the mission that Jesus Christ had to the world and that was clearly documented in the Gospels, meaning that it should remain the filter through which we view the Old Testaments and the Epistles – one could see how in many cases the Epistles had almost become post-Gospel and close to leaving the message about the man, Jesus too far away to be noticed.

Another issue was the way Christianity had evolved into Churchianity, people now say, that is not how we believe in our church rather than this is what the Bible says in relation to what Christ would or might have done.

Practical Christianity

In all the discourse, the most important thing was that we had congregated in fellowship for strengthen our friendship and communion part of which including sharing love, food, ideas and prayers – A most fulfilling evening it was; the core point was simply how to make Christianity practical, relevant and worthwhile without any religious encumbrance.

As I signed the guestbook again, I was able to flip pages back to when I first signed the book in March 2003, besides the missionaries from the UK, this couple whose mission with the youth [5] leaves one seriously unfulfilled in religious vocation, probably run the most welcoming and hospitable home in the Netherlands, they are a blessing to anyone who crosses their path.

In my view, that is the purpose of the Gospel.

Sources

[1] Swingin' Safari – Home

[2] The Flintstones - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

[3] BBC - Religion & Ethics - Sabbath:

[4] Mark 2:27 - The Sabbath was made for man – World Council of Churches

[5] YWAM Amsterdam