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

In Wine, In Play, In Anger, and In Indifference

Wisdom From the Mother Tongue

Yoruba provides a rich seam of wisdom that, even as a second language, I have mined to find gems that sparkle and light my path. “Ibi eré ni à ńmọ òótọ́ ọ̀rọ̀” is a saying that has meant so much to me; it has made friends and broken relationships. “It is at play that the truth spills out.” That would be a liberal translation, and I'll stick with it.

The Romans arrived at much the same conclusion by a different route. “In vino veritas,” they said, “in wine, there is truth.” Where the Yoruba sage observed the loosened tongue at play, the Latin observer found it at the bottom of a cup. Two cultures, two settings, one shared recognition: the heart, given any opening, will speak its mind.

What reinforces that viewpoint comes from the words of Jesus Christ in the Bible: “A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil. For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.” (Luke 6:45)

A Watch Over the Lips

The unguarded expression, spoken without thought or consideration, regardless of disposition, is one reason why we need a watch on our lips. So says the Psalmist, in a prayer asking for divine assistance in controlling one's speech, preventing hasty, sinful, or hurtful words, and acting as a guard over what is spoken. (Psalms 141:3)

It takes only a moment of lacking restraint, and everything comes crumbling down: the dismissing of issues consequential to others, simply because there is no background to their stories beyond what surfaces at the point of interaction.

Yet everyone has both the prerogative and the right to be unburdened and unbothered by external issues. In some cases, silence trumps expression, but that requires a modicum of discipline.

The Many Faces of Unguarded Speech

Wine and play are only two of the settings where the heart slips its leash. Anger is another: the row that begins over a small grievance and ends with a cruelty no apology can quite retrieve. Tiredness is a quieter cousin, where exhaustion strips away the patience that ordinarily holds the tongue in check. Grief, too, can sharpen words into instruments that wound bystanders who happened only to be nearby.

There is also the casual cruelty of group settings, where a joke at someone's expense earns laughter, and the laughter encourages the next, sharper jibe. Social media has industrialised this dynamic; the keyboard is a kind of wine in itself, lowering inhibitions whilst removing the face that might otherwise have stayed our hand.

Then there are moments of fear, jealousy, or wounded pride, when the words we reach for are not the ones we believe but the ones that will hurt fastest. And let us not forget the seemingly innocent slip during gossip, where a confidence shared in trust becomes currency in another conversation entirely.

Seven Words, One Covenant

"I don't have the energy for this." Those are seven words that broke a covenant, though one can be certain they would be used to castigate me as truculent, impossible, and recalcitrant. My relevance is transactional rather than in recognition of my own journey or story. I have my own issues, but everyone needs to see themselves in the mirror, too.

Going back to the verse I quoted earlier, an interpretation would suggest that a person's words reflect their inner character, thoughts, motivations, beliefs, and emotions. The "heart" represents the core of one's being, and what is stored inside inevitably spills out through speech.

The Fool in the Play

As a student of myself, and sometimes of others, I have learnt a lesson about the heart once again. It does not take drink alone to loosen the tongue; play, anger, fatigue, grief, indifference, or just plain spite are enough.

You had better be attentive to what is being said before you become the fool in the play where you are also the lead.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

Essential Snobbery 101: Letting Mother Help You Choose Good Friends

The Wisdom of Maternal Instinct

Mothers of my generation who happened to be in the UK during the 1960s seemed to acquire a turn of phrase associated with that exposure, which we, their children, sometimes had trouble understanding. However, with hindsight, many of their observations were insightful, intuitive, and prescient.

When your mother said, "This friend of yours is too good for my liking," whilst she was not commanding you to break the friendship there and then, she expected you to find ways of extricating yourself from that relationship.

Usually, this meant bringing new friends into your orbit and having something aspirational within those friendships against which she could compare you, urging you to do better. As our parents cannot essentially make our friends for us, they exercise a kind of judgement on our decision-making in the best interests of our protection, even if we cannot see why.

The Mirror of Association

Another saying of foreboding is, "Show me your friends, and I will show you who you are." Association becomes a marker for discernment, character, and principle. Choose and keep the wrong associations, and watch your own reputation go up in flames, even if you are neither involved nor culpable in the nefarious activities of your chosen friends.

Moral judgement, a good conscience, along with a sense of knowing when something is wrong, are instincts we should all have. Beyond that, we need to be aware of when we begin to think that status and means provide immunity for impunity, creating an aura of invincibility bordering on being untouchable. It is the most dangerous cocoon of existence in which a man can find himself.

It is in this light that I have wondered how wise counsel deserted men of wealth and power concerning Jeffrey Epstein. Firstly, the evil and wickedness he inflicted on young, vulnerable women for his pleasure and that of those he corralled into his circle of influence is unforgivable. Lives were ruined and damaged beyond any form of redemption. The most public of them, Virginia Giuffre, took her own life last year.

The Voiceless Victims

For those still living, I can only hope that they find the love and care to give them not merely the will to live, but a purpose that can help them craft a better story regardless of their past. They remain the voiceless in this atrocity, in which he gave himself the easy exit of suicide rather than be held accountable for his actions.

His accomplice, Ghislaine Maxwell, is in prison but hardly languishing in a gulag. She probably holds a bargaining chip of influence and blackmail that could ease the severity of the punishment she truly deserves. However, apart from these two principals in this influential harem of inordinate abuse, almost rivalling the court of Caligula, no one else has faced the remote prospect of indictment, let alone prosecution.

A Global Web of Complicity

The names on Jeffrey Epstein's Rolodex and roll of shame reach into a global Who's Who of money, power, royalty, politics, and academia, touching the once respected, revered, or adored. We have begun to question our own sanity, yet one can only be in awe of how he networked to create a veneer of respectability over his disreputable and criminal enterprise. Those involved became inadvertent enablers, and within that bubble, they were mesmerised into the suspension of disbelief.

The taint of association has claimed scalps and led to disgrace in many spheres. It started with a CEO of a global bank losing his job, the marriage of the richest man in the world for over a decade collapsing, a prince losing his titles and honours, an ambassador sacked with the prospect of losing his peerage, and today, the chief of staff to the Prime Minister resigning for just being a friend of a friend.

That list is not exhaustive, but it is indicative of how a mother's observation could have saved the reputations and honour of some who have now become part of Epstein's story.

Heeding the Warning Signs

It is obvious that we need to regularly review the kinds of friendships we keep, no matter how influential, rich, and connected that person might be. I know those people my mother took exception to; there are two who never became good friends. One of them became involved in criminality in the UK, such that his history stood against his ability to practise law there.

Sometimes, I hear my mother's voice in my head. There are times I hear her in my own speaking, too. In both cases, I am glad there is that premonition to avoid some people.

A Google NotebookLM AI Audio Overview Discussion of this blog

When Technical Debate Meets Workplace Dysfunction

The Facts Always Win

In a lengthy set of exchanges on a technical forum, we tried to resolve what became an exception to the rule that proved a process was not functioning as intended or designed.

It was the second of such conversations where, again, one assumption about facilitating something could not be proven by the evidence gathered. My engineering background compels me to seek out and gather the evidence proving a point. Once I have that evidence, I can only be dissuaded with superior data.

My work life is filled with many such arguments where, as far as I am concerned, electronic data is more reliable, convincing, and conclusive. If you cannot present the evidence of the facts in play, then you are left adrift, subject to illogical premises redolent of clutching at straws.

Poorly Reading the Room

I appreciate that I can be quite forceful, but I make no apology for that. Whilst I am neither infallible nor omniscient, I am quite thorough and won't mind painstakingly reviewing whatever viewpoints I have reached if there is any doubt that the means for making those assertions are suspect.

Caught in the flow of these conversations, someone mistook the technical commentary for social banter. Taking exception, he suggested we take our liaison to a private space and, once we had consummated our tryst, we could return with the baby.

You pause and wonder what had got into them. You might take into consideration that they might have had a bad day, but to intrude and insinuate in that manner was uncalled for. The fact is, I have to countenance many impolite, uncouth, bad-mannered, and ill-disciplined people in the managerial cadre who exhibit little respect for their reports.

Another Place, Another Face

Having been a freelance consultant for three decades, I am quite likely to understand this more and better than those who have only been the archetypal corporate person. Anyone has the prerogative to shimmy and slide up or down the greasy pole in obedience and obsequious genuflection for pecuniary advantage. I have seen the best and the worst of the lot, but not at my expense.

My interlocutor was having none of it. Just one unfortunate abuse of privilege and an inadvertent level of tone can quite seriously piss people off. Our accuser was swiftly told off before a feeble apology came in response. I do not have to always be the vocal contrarian, and, likely, my card is already marked, but I am unperturbed.

There is an art to office politics and the power plays of the little-minded that amuse no end.

If the axe is dull,
And one does not sharpen the edge,
Then he must use more strength;
Wisdom is profitable to direct. Ecclesiastes 10:10

We've been at this game long enough to know where to use a dull axe, how it needs to be sharpened, when to use more strength, and wherefore the wisdom to see people for who they really are. In the same vein, all is vanity, vanity.

Thought Picnic: Getting inspiration from within

Look inside, not up

Writing is an art of spontaneity, one for which I have not planned much before I begin to type. As Laurence Sterne wrote in The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, “I begin with writing the first sentence, and trusting to Almighty God for the second.”

Somewhere between the ceiling and heaven, I might look for inspiration, then I realise God lives in me. As with prayers, a Christian need not look to the hills from whence cometh the help of the Psalmist in the Old Testament (Psalm 121:1) when Jesus said, “Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me” (John 15:4).

We so easily forget the nearness of the divine already dwelling in us. Rather than using our inner ears and spirituality to listen and hear from the inexhaustible well of inspiration of the Holy Spirit, we look outward for a sign somewhere apart from us.

Just so connected

This is a blessing of connection that we miss because we do not tune in to the frequency of the spiritual radio that God has placed in us. Instead, we look to seemingly unintelligible and indecipherable data from extraterrestrial life forms of which we have barely any concept.

I can attest to the many times when the best ideas, insight, and inspiration have come from the quiet of meditation rather than from someone else. Sometimes, I step into the shower befuddled and step out enlightened.

Elsewhere in the Bible, we read, “For ‘who has known the mind of the LORD that he may instruct Him?’ But we have the mind of Christ” (1 Corinthians 2:16). We have the mind of Christ, the Anointed One and His Anointing. That is just mind-blowing, a truth that has long escaped us, abandoned to the traditional hymn that suggests, “God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform.” [Hymnal.net E675]

Use God’s library

Indeed, God is omnipotent and omniscient, and every wonder the hymn avers is an attribute of the divine. However, God is not hiding Himself from us, no, not at all.

Rather, He has made the library of His knowledge and wisdom available to us, indwelling our beings and giving us the Holy Spirit to teach us the truth, provide us with understanding, and guide us in all the vicissitudes of life. We are the most equipped for success in life, and we are totally oblivious to that gift.

From the basic things, such as beginning to write the first sentence, to the life-changing decisions of extreme consequence, we have the best resource that the universe has to offer. We can develop the ability to tap this resource by knowing we have it and affirming it from the Word of God, The Bible; His how-to manual.

Thought Picnic: Everybody who hurts can find healing too

R.E.M. - Everybody Hurts (Official HD Music Video)

In strength and weakness

I may have a listening ear, and to some, who are close to me, I have had outbursts. Much as I attempt every means of self-control and restraint, the dam can hold no more water and it bursts. I have to remember sometimes that I do not have the answers, the understanding, the knowledge, or the wisdom for certain situations.

Even where I appear to be wise, it is usually a gift of inspiration that I cherish a lot, how to put things in perspective, cutting out the unnecessary, the sentimental, the subjective, or just the emotional. Clinical is not always what people want to hear, but the truth is a salve better than the succour of false comfort that barely addresses the issue.

We all need somebody

Then, I wonder, what am I doing for myself? How am I healing and getting the rest I need to have the peace and comfort I desire? The quest for happiness caught in snatches of time, impeded sometimes by the insufficiency of means, yet powered by an irrepressible force of faith and hope, watered with love that thrives in all circumstances. In that alone, I feel blessed.

We bear many burdens, to many we have unlimited resources of strength in mind and character, our figurative and proverbial shoulders stretch like a mountain range, grounded in the core of the earth and found in the lofty reaches of the clouds, covered in snow to cool the heat of things upset and upturn lives in unimaginable ways. Life is not a simple story; we just make every moment count.

Everybody cries, everybody hurts, and everybody feels, all in different ways with myriad ways to express themselves in the things that affect them. The silence might be screaming so loud inside. The smiling might be weeping thunderstorms of distress and turmoil that the face hides in a veil of the indecipherable. What I hide under the finery of my appearance and apparel is a world of my own humanity and vulnerability that probably finds words of expression here.

Seeking to live the dreams

Then I want to find my own foxhole to burrow deep into to hide from the world for a while, to slip into a kind of hibernation of absence where the dreams that play are of the beauty of heaven, the joy of living well, of strength, facility, and immeasurable ability with the daring that blows the mind.

That also does not have to be just a dream, for the dream maker seeks to make those dreams come true beyond anything we have ever thought, wanted, sought, desired, seen, heard, or imagined possible.

I have always thought there is a better way, many times I scramble to find the door and fall on the way, but I will never relent in seeking to walk the path that the mighty have walked to tell better stories than those ever told before.

World AIDS Day 2021 - A reflection

I was unpersuaded

World AIDS Day is what I mostly celebrate in quiet contemplation rather than with fanfare and symbolism. I reflect on the life that I have lived, the good fortune that has smiled on me and the privilege of living at a time when possibilities existed long after all hope was literally lost.

I have been living with HIV as diagnosed since September 2002, I might well have had it for much longer, I cannot tell. At diagnosis, I threw caution to the winds and lived in a careless and carefree world, almost daring the worst to happen, like I was invincible and inviolable.

In mid-2005, I attended a medical check-up where the consultant proposed a regime of strong Vitamin B medication with some prophylaxis to protect my kidneys, it seemed a rather severe action to take when I was not presenting any issues. For that consultation, however, my wallet was lightened by €1,800. The knowledge and experience made me quite averse to learning more about what more I could do, including getting a second opinion.

The signs were screaming

By late 2008, the chef de reception, Javier, at one of my holiday haunts had noticed things about my pallor and wellbeing, he suggested I have my health checked out, I went through the motions but did not do a lot about it. Then in June 2009, some friends came to visit me in Amsterdam, and we went out to Kinderdijk to see the windmills, but on our way back, I was overcome with tiredness and weakness I had never experienced before, on the day they left, I broke out with shingles.

Blog - Javier

Meanwhile, I was nursing what I thought was athlete’s foot on the sole of my left foot, it was not clearing up, it was getting painful and beginning to weep. Another part of my folly kicked in, I seemed to desire more miraculous healing than a medical intervention. All that messing around in me, I still travelled to Berlin for the Christopher Street Day celebrations, then returned home to nurse myself back to a semblance of health.

Laying on of wands

In August, the foot became even more bothersome, and I was still desperately seeking some sudden rather than a gradual easing of my pain. A visit to a friend who was able to persuade me to attend her birthday, having recently had cancer in remission, she introduced me to new pain medication, which helped a bit as I endured in my foolishness.

I travelled to London in early September to attend a church service with Jerry Savelle, a word of faith preacher ministering, who laid hands on me, and I felt nothing, but it was at that point that came to my senses, I think. It was not going to be a magical moment.

I showed my best friend my foot and told him how I was suffering, not giving him the time to even say much than just acknowledge that he might just lose me. I told him; I had allowed my condition to deteriorate to a stage that I might have no other options left.

Only left with Plan B

Returning home to Amsterdam, I sorted out my insurance provisions and visited my doctor on an emergency appointment because I was in excruciating pain. She took one look at my foot and immediately said, this looks serious, I need to refer you. There and then she booked an appointment with the hospital, dressed my foot and prescribed some strong painkillers. My visit to the hospital two days later called for a further referral which was scheduled for the Tuesday after the weekend, once I told them I was HIV positive, they had reached conclusions I was yet to realise.

The HIV until September 2009 had been untreated since the September 2002 diagnosis and what was presenting was evident immunodeficiency, opportunistic infections, and the heretofore untreatable athlete’s foot, was in fact, Kaposi’s Sarcoma (a kind of skin cancer), I had full-blown AIDS.

I am fortunate and privileged

What World AIDS Day means to me is even in that extremely dire situation, I lived in a country with healthcare, service and support to attend to my immediate need, that there was an extremely high level of medical competence and expertise available to me without castigation or judgement, I just presented a challenge they had met many times before.

Fundamentally, they had confidence borne of experience and understanding drawn from the many cases and lives before mine whose contributions to the body of knowledge in the management and treatment of HIV and AIDS whether they survived or not meant that people like me had better chances of survival. I was not a lost cause.

Your miracle is in medicine

Indeed, it was a medical intervention that saved me, I did not abandon my religious beliefs, for that really helped me keep my mind and my head through the toughest times and I have told of that in many stories. I have by adversity been won to the miracle of medicine and medical expertise, why it matters, and it is not a negation or a repudiation of any other belief system, it is as much a gift to humanity as it is the emancipation and progression of civilisation.

You ask, how could someone so westernised, educated, enlightened and knowledgeable have allowed his condition to deteriorate to such a life-threatening situation? Then you begin to understand that the strengths and weaknesses of our humanity are myriad, amid apparent wisdom and knowledge can be stark ignorance, irrationality, stupidity and worse. Sometimes, we just need to forgive our own stupidity so we can learn to use a bit of wisdom.

Let’s just say, we have been steeped in such bad education that the process of unlearning to allow some new learning can be painfully difficult and consequently life-affirming. I am well, healthier than I have been in decades, on antiretroviral medication with an undetectable viral load for over 12 years. All thanks to medicine and the wealth of lives and deaths that have made it possible for all of us living with HIV to be productive members of our small and large communities. This needs to be shared around the world more.

Happy World AIDS Day!

Blogs – The Cancer Tales.

Then walking barefoot meant nothing at all

Let me tell a story

Contentment, they say is a state of happiness and satisfaction, we normally see in the context of being happy with what you have or rather what you have got. Maybe, it is more than that, sometimes, I cannot tell. For what you have got may not mean that much and what you have you might not have placed value on to begin to treasure it as a great possession, it is all contained in the mystery of contentment.

To some and to myself I have so admonished to a sense of gratitude that if I cannot have what I want, I should love and cherish what I have got. It is not about setting one’s sights low and or the lack of ambition. Some pursuits lead to exhaustion and unfulfilled dreams, big as the dreams may be.

The wisdom of the ancients

For we all have the woes and adversity that becomes the defining things of our storied existence, then set against the tale of another, our suffering in all the ways that it affected us, is small in comparison.

Whilst, watching the military investigation television series NCIS, there was an episode I had watched some years ago that I appeared on that occasion to have missed hearing an aphorism that led me down the search for its provenance until it brought me to the wisdom of the ancients, having passed through many attributions including that of Helen Keller took me to 13^th Century Persia and a moment of deep reflection inspiring this blog.

The little is great indeed

“I never lamented about the vicissitudes of time or complained of the turns of fortune except on the occasion when I was barefooted and unable to procure slippers. But when I entered the great mosque of Kufah with a sore heart and beheld a man without feet I offered thanks to the bounty of God, consoled myself for my want of shoes and recited:

A roast fowl is to the sight of a satiated man
Less valuable than a blade of fresh grass on the table
And to him who has no means nor power
A burnt turnip is a roasted fowl.”

Sheikh Muslih-uddin Sa'di Shirazi [Gulistan of Sa'di: Chapter III Story 19]

A paraphrase of the above quote in all its context is attributed to Helen Keller as “I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.”

Touched by amazing lives

I was in primary school when I learnt about Helen Keller, she had only been gone 6 years, another story that had such a profound effect on my impressionable mind was that of John Brown, the abolitionist, and who can forget the Harpers Ferry raid and the marching song with the refrain, His soul is marching on? But I digress.

For years, I mourned the loss of love; for he had died, and then I realised, I was alive to love again. In the same vein, for the pain, I have felt and the many sorrows indeed, the greatest thing about being alive is the spirit of hope and possibility, for in whatever situation we might be in, opportunity abounds for gratitude and thankfulness, when we count our blessings, naming them one by one, and that is what contentment is all about. The wisdom of the ancients is indeed timeless.

Thought Picnic: I rise with gifts to help

Knowledge is a resource

Sometimes I wonder what I would do if I had the resources that gave the opportunity and privilege, in have that, I realise that such comes with great responsibility in how the resources are used, to what ends, and to what purposes.

Indeed, I am fascinated by those who recognise that what they have should not be abused subscribing to a higher principle or cause that serves justice and humanity.

I will not pretend that I have acquired to that standard of altruistic contentment, the emperor of my entire and all that can be surveyed. It is no less something to strive to, not for self but for others in knowing what to do with what you have got. I am surprised how watching the mundane can elicit profound knowledge.

Wisdom is in servitude

I do not consider myself a leader or a mentor, yet, I find that I am thrust into situations where by perspective, experience, inclination or engagement, something is demanded of me to which I must rise rather than shrink. I do not delude myself into thinking I have the powers of persuasion, but I can paint pictures and scenarios, hoping to bring hearts, minds, resources and commitment to a side.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Considering the blessing of people in my life

That one does not have a burning passion to win at all cost, but to have done enough for options to be seen and decisions to be made gratifying, even if what I have done is create opposition rather than acquiescence. If anything, I have been honoured to influence and even if I had wished to be better resourced, I hope to have done anything I have done to the best of my ability.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Don't lose the honour of the opportunity to help

If fortitude should bless me with greater responsibility, if I have acquitted myself well with little, I cherish every moment I had to engage, if a mission calls, send me with the wisdom of life I have been given to live.

Opinion: No man!

If

Just imagine if when Oba Rilwanu Akiolu, the paramount chief of Lagos in that moment of unguarded irresponsible verbiage had been challenged rather than applauded.

Wonder if the Zulu king, Goodwill Zwelithini, had been circumspect about foreigners if his views met with immediate disapproval as he spoke.

If in that interview cum media chat, President Goodluck Jonathan when he did not give a damn, the obsequious, star-struck and fawning interviewers had the temerity to ask him to responsively give a damn.

If those we look up to were given a piece of our minds contrary to blind followership begging for subservience.

If we balanced our respect with a modicum of irreverence that allowed leaders to lead without thinking themselves infallible, omnipotent or inviolable because they were conscious of their humanity and listening for good and sometimes difficult counsel.

Sadly

I believe the story would have been about the reconsideration at that setting than the overheated reporting of the outburst. Maybe, just maybe, the world we see would have been a better place.

Sadly, leaders fail themselves when surrounded by acolytes who do little to complete and complement their leadership by vying for favour and recognition when they should be accentuating the good with fervour and curtailing the bad with wisdom.

There are too many 'Yes men', men without cojones, self-interested minions whose activities eventually show the whole enterprise they are in, in a bad light.

Invariably, they excuse the inexcusable, support the intolerable, defend the reprehensible and promote the atrocious with utterly damnable and illogical arguments as their acquiescence gives licence to impunity without any discernible consequence.

Speak

Yet, what a leader needs is a fearless and bold courageous follower or counsellor. Like the man who whispered in the ear of gladiators of old on victory processions: 'You are but a man, mortal and at the mercy of the gods and the times'.

No men, one who can stand up when all are bowed in worship and obeisance to say, 'No man! You can't say that,' or 'No man! You can't do that'.

The person to stay the folly, quell the anger, appeal to the better nature or arrest the stupidity that leaves men as sheep when they should be lions.

Just imagine if the courts of kings, leaders, the powerful, the rich, the elite, the privileged or those with responsibility or authority had viziers with gravitas or jesters with levity rather than Yes-men. Just imagine how much peace and harmony will reign.

Nigeria: To a boy most things are forgiven, but to a man, more is expected

An education without history

As the Germans destroyed the assumed mythical status of Brazilian football with a 7 – 1 rout, we all took to Twitter, sharing wit, puns, jokes and memes, some funny, others not so, but the whole atmosphere was marred by a rather tasteless and ‘stupid’ tweet.

I do not intend to reproduce that tweet here because it reeks of odium unparalleled that words fail me.

Now, the perpetrator is a young and rising star in the Nigerian political system, many of us just between what might be the uncle to the parent age with reference to him have found reasons to commend and respect him for his achievements.

In many cases, we may not have been in agreement, but there has been no reason to be disagreeable, he has always held his official brief well and that is worthy of every recognition.

Looking for mitigating circumstances

Yet, having changed masters from a demur Sports and Youth Federal Minister to one who with the brief of Minister of State of Defence whose supposed education and political experience fails to reflect in his tactless and somewhat undiplomatic screeches on Twitter about terrorism in Nigeria, I fear that some of that doltishness has rubbed off on him.

In an unguarded moment, he tweeted what would not be heard in polite society in Europe for as far as the eye can see and this repugnant phrase has not been heralded in public settings since April 30^th 1945.

Ears are for listening

Immediately, those who cared called it out, and this is where you know a man; one with character, one with principle and dare I say, one with integrity. When a fault or wrong is pointed out, not as a voice of common antagonism, but one of clear reason and reasonableness, you reflect, review and gracefully regret error.

Sadly, he dug in, with obduracy, obstinacy and bewildering stupidity, flailing with bluster and braggadocio as a typical Nigerian politician blown adrift like a rainless cloud because it is not anchored in the realism of truth and facts.

Boy came out of the man

Maybe I am being overly harsh on the boy, because I as a boy, he can be excused many things, a lack of knowledge of history which in a man we would call ignorance, a lack of the ability to reflect, which in a man we would call arrogance, and the inability to say sorry, which in a boy would be a clear sign of immaturity.

Worst still, I would hate to extrapolate this event and suggest that many of the youth that I follow and engage with on many forums are prone to this absentmindedness of the powerful to realise that one does stoop to conquer, that one is wise to know that when in a hole you stop digging and that being regretful and sorry is hardly as sign of weakness, but one of strength, even if it is not obvious to the person involved.

One still hopes

Yet, one of the greater qualities of youthfulness is not one of aging but in the ability to learn, the presence of a teachable spirit and to know that one can change if a path to being better is found.

Yesterday, I tweeted extensively about A Man for All Seasons, the character analysis of Sir Thomas More contrasted with Richard Rich with the somewhat reactionary William Roper in the middle of some very insightful exchanges, the subject like one handed a rope to save himself has pulled towards Rich than towards More.

I close with one of the tweets I posted on the issue. “It is amazing what seemingly inconsequential things show the true integrity and character of a man and it can be so damaging.” It needn’t have needed much commentary; to a boy all is forgiven for out of him might grow a man of all seasons, but to a man, much more is expected lest he be judged a man of no season.

I recommend anyone entering politics or anyone and battling with issues of conscience, duty and allegiance consider watching A Man for All Seasons (Film), on Amazon (DVD) and (Streaming).

The example of riches untold

It’s the Guardian angel of thought

I have tendency to fall into a stupor when I get on flight to anywhere, the time before take-off is literally interminable that I sometimes miss the choreography of aircraft safety and the offer of newspapers to read.

I had deliberately left the things I was reading in my bag as I took my window seat but halfway through the flight my mind was aching for input so I asked the lady next to me if I could read her paper.

It was the UK Guardian and I really would not read anything that wet but for the seemingly dire circumstances.

The bottom of the front-page of the Friday 29^th of August newspaper had the picture of a lady kneeling down fully and submissively bowed to the floor as if in deep supplication at a religious convention that majored on getting rich [1].

The Prosperity Gospel

I have seen that before and it took years to be weaned off the diet of milk and honey with a tub of unhealthy lard.

The prosperity gospel [2] has taken root in a branch of Christianity that has Pentecostal yearnings, the news feature contends that these ideas of interpretation of the Bible come from Oklahoma which has been the incubator to the wildest inspirations that defy the logic of getting successful.

Now, I have nothing against prosperity, in fact, I am all for prosperity which in essence could be good health, the presence of happiness, the ability to share, having sufficiency to meet ones requirements and something over whilst being content, I doubt if it is all about getting rich [3].

I like people to be ambitious and have good role models too that inspire them to great things, but it is covetous to desire to be like others for the sake of being able to say you have arrived.

Extensive studies [4] have been conducted on whether elements of the Prosperity Gospel do have a theological basis rather than a pseudo-heretical deviation.

Rick Warren [5] who pastors one of the largest congregations in American seems to stand alone from this deluge of “God make me as rich as Richie Rich [6]” syndrome and had a feature run in the Economist [7] about his teachings.

Ghetto churches with a different message

One thing the news feature noticed was most of the congregation seemed to be made of ethnic minorities from West Africa and the Caribbean – I do wonder how these churches integrate into or adapt to the communities they are in.

I remember when looking for a church, years ago, I went to 2 churches in The Hague and Amsterdam, I could have just walked down a street in Lagos, they were alien to the culture and their environment – it was all well to have the comfort of similarity in numbers but that is what the ghetto is made of.

These ghetto “churches” probably do have a message and have the power to inspire in a particular way, but when every message, intonation and supplication begins to read like dollar or pound signs, I worry for where the evil has taken root in the quest for or the love of money.

Between money and wisdom

There are many verses in scripture that suggest it is good to be rich but key to those verses lies the juxtaposition with wisdom because like the Proverbs say, money is of no use to a fool – Proverbs 17:15-17. As we all know, a fool and his money are soon parted too.

Wisdom is the key – Ecclesiastes 7:11-13; it brings prudence to the management of ones resources where the making of ones character can even be an exercise in money management.

The church featured in the news story which happens to be the largest church in the UK ran into some difficulty recently concerning its charitable status as well as financial irregularities with the way its funds seemed to have been diverted to means that were not above board.

Those matters got resolved with the minister in charge having to pay back GBP 200,000. It does not augur well for churches that taken voluntary contributions on the premise of faith and goodwill to end up under financial investigations - it is bad as an example of character and damages the reputation of the greater message - that is a glaring fact that cannot be subject to debate.

Example of riches

As one sits down to listen to the word as preached today, the anecdotes, analogies and allegories sound like the example of riches untold triggered by selfless tithing in the belief that the returns can be a thousand-fold - tendency to go out of context to pursue a particular belief system is rife.

It reminds of an episode years ago where an overdose of this kind of talk lead a friend to believe that God had promised him a large some of money, N17,000, and that was a lot of money; an equivalent of $20,000 or GBP 14,000 at the exchange rates then (1984) as we were all students.

He opened a bank account and waited for the day when the money would be deposited by God, the day finally arrived and he wrote the amount out to cash in a cheque, prayed over it and went to the bank.

He got done for fraud and it was a case that dragged on for a good while, the only saving grace for him was that he did not spend too long in a police cell; it was an eye-opener to all of us – God uses people most of the time and rarely exceptional circumstances, He does not do magic and many confuse the need for the miraculous with unexpected providence of good luck typifying a magical wave of the wand.

Riches of example

The riches of the example of Christian living cannot be just having the best car, the biggest house, the most vulgar bling and the swagger of a garrulous moneybag – it must be the ministering to ones community with whatever little one has got because sufficiency is what matters not excess leading to squander or wanton living 2 Corinthians 3:4-6 & 2 Corinthians 9:7-9.

I seek a gospel that espouses and ululates in the riches of example, it is time to find relevance in our communities which are more diverse than specific race churches or financial-driven thought philosophies; the gospel of the example of riches inspires no confidence in the quality of Christian devotion, dedication and living.

Chasing the cloud of success without the requisite dint of hard work, honesty, good character, reliability, dependability and service to ones community is as far removed from the gospel as the East is from the West.

As for the woman who was pictured kneeling on the front-page of the Guardian, if you are not asking a-miss – Amen.

Sources

[1] Religion: Pentecostalist gathering draws worshippers keen to get richer | World news | The Guardian

[2] Prosperity theology - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

[3] TIME.com - Does God Want You To Be Rich? - The Religion Pages - Sponsored by Unitarian Universalists

[4] ReligionLink - Is the 'prosperity gospel' prospering?

[5] Rick Warren - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

[6] Richie Rich (comics) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

[7] Rick Warren – Lexington | The next Billy Graham | Economist.com

Note about originality: The example of riches derives from a phrase used by Bill Clinton where power replaces my use of riches.