God of mystery

Some years ago we lived on a North Wales hillside overlooking the Irish Sea. It was a beautiful and peaceful place in the summer months, but desolate in winter when icy winds blew hard off the sea, making it almost impossible to stand upright, and driving rain forced its way through the walls and into the house.

It was a period in our lives when we had very little money, could not afford to fix leaking walls and were struggling to meet bills for heating and basics. We questioned the decisions that we had made and the actions taken which had led us to this place.

However, there was one moment of magic that no amount of money could buy. It happened on clear autumn nights when the sun was about to set.

We would stand in our garden, gazing out to sea, and as the blood-red sun made its journey to the edge of the sea and beyond it would suddenly throw up an image of the Wicklow Hills on the horizon. This image would last for a few minutes and then fade, as light levels fell.

Believe me, you had to be there to appreciate it!

Now, the Wicklow Hills are in County Wicklow in Ireland, lying well beyond sight from that part of Wales. What we saw each autumn was nothing more or less than an optical illusion, explained by the laws of physics.

To us however it was the Creator putting on a rather special light show just for us, a little entertainment prior to the miseries of winter!

Sometimes it can be difficult to see anything good in the way life is treating you. The struggle to put food on the table and cater for the needs of a growing family can take every ounce of effort and ingenuity. It makes it difficult to stand back and appreciate anything good in the world.

Sometimes though you just have to be still and trust, that not only is God the creator of this world, he is also the one who can lead us out of despair and into a better place. That illusion of the hills thrown up onto the edge of the sea reminded us that this world is a place of beauty and mystery, and the God who is in control is the same God who would lead us out of our ‘captivity’ into a better place, which he did!

The fragrance of God

'Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus' feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.' (John 12:3)

'But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him.'(2 Cor 2:14)

I have always been interested in this idea that we are 'the fragrance' of God in thsi world. The earlier story of Mary pouring the expensive ointment on Jesus' feet is easy for us to relate to - after all, the room would surely have smelt of that perfume for days afterwards. After Jesus left, the memory of his visit would be there in the scent that remained.

But how are we 'a fragrance'?

On holiday recently in France we walked through a pine forest on particularly  hot day, and remarked that the air was filled with the beautiful scent of the pine resin. Not only was the day a beautiful one, filled with the song of birds and the discovery of new and exciting wildlife but so was the scent of the air that we breathed in. The interesting thing is that having come home and having nothing but photographs to remind myself of that walk, I can still remember the fragrance of the pine, even after the memories of the scenery fade.

What effect do we have on the people among whom we walk and work day  by day? What do they remember us for, if anything at all?

Is it what we wear that makes us stand out, or what we say and do that make the difference? Is it the simple act of kindness, the word of comfort and reassurance, the shoulder to lean on - is it these that linger in the mind as a thing of beauty?. Is this our witness to the world, the bringing into someone's life the fragrance of the love that Jesus showed to the world as he hung on the cruel cross?

When all roads do not lead to Rome!

There is a certain satisfaction in completing a way-marked circular ramble in unfamiliar surroundings. It’s as much to do with trust as it is with one’s own capabilities – the thought that someone has walked this way before and placed signs for others to follow. That last stretch at the end of a long walk in beautiful countryside is something to savour, recognition that you have achieved something to be proud of.

But what happens if you get to the end and it is not where you started? What if you take a wrong turn and end up lost? That happened to us in France. Two walks, both way-marked in yellow. We followed one, and thought we had completed it, but in fact had taken a wrong turn and ended up somewhere on walk number two. We could not find our car and more importantly could not understand where we had gone wrong. We stood at the junction of two roads, route map in hand, totally perplexed.

There is an unsaid prayer which accompanies such moments, and it says ‘Oh God, what now?!’

The answer in our case came from a battered old Renault which pulled up, the driver enquiring, in French, if we were lost. There then followed a slightly surreal fifteen minutes where the driver, a slightly drunk farmer who couldn’t speak English or read maps offered to drive us to our car. By this he meant driving at break-neck speed down tiny country lanes in the vain hope that we might spot where we started. Eventually, more by luck than judgement we stumbled upon our car, looking rather forlorn in the corner of its isolated parking place. We thanked our rescuer profusely, wished him well and continued on our way.

Two questions come to mind. How does God answer prayer? Is it in a blinding flash of divine inspiration or via a slightly drunk French farmer? Secondly, how easy is it for us to convince ourselves that we are on the right road, when all along we have taken a wrong turn which will lead us to real uncertainty? What do we do in such circumstances? Do we convince ourselves that we are right and all we need to do is continue down the road we’re currently walking, or do we stop and acknowledge that we are in need of rescue?

And having acknowledged that we need help, how ready are we to accept it from unexpected places? Do we wait for divine revelation, or accept the assistance of someone who, though they could quite easily drive past, stops and asks if we require assistance, even of they are not the obvious choice we would make for a knight in shining armour?

Jesus told a parable of a Good Samaritan who did just that. More importantly is the Bible’s insistence that, in times of crisis ‘Our help cometh from the Lord!’