Building for the storms.

My late father spent the early part of his adult working life in the building trade.  Accordingly, as a young boy, I spent a lot of my Saturdays, and my school holidays, around building sites (‘Health & Safety’ hadn’t yet been invented!).

Perhaps that’s why I appreciate this parable of Jesus.  Once again, it is a well-known one, and it concerns two builders.  You’ll find it in Matt.7.

One of these builders had been listening to his Techy Ed teacher.  When he decided to build a house, he made sure that he had good solid foundations.  He dug right down until he hit bedrock.  Then, and only then, did he begin to erect his house.

The other man was what might be called, nowadays, a bit of a cowboy.  He knew the shortcuts; he knew where he could get materials at the ‘right’ price – albeit of an inferior quality; he was more interested in ease and speed than in durability.

From the outside, it is true, each house looked as good as the other.  Then the storms came.  Violent storms.  The wind howled; the rain lashed against the houses; the nearby river overflowed its banks. 

One house stood – taking all that the elements could throw at it; the other collapsed.  You don’t need me to tell you which was which!

Life can be like that – your life, and mine.  Each of us, whether or not we realise it, is in the process of building – building a life.  Some of us have been at it for years; some are only digging for the foundations.  However, whether a building of bricks and mortar, or a life, we need a good foundation.  Only if we have such a foundation will we be able to withstand the storms of life – those times when it seems that the whole world is against us; when we quickly reach the end of our tether; when there is no light visible at the end of the tunnel.

Disciples of that same Jesus Who first told that story claim that, in Him, they have a solid foundation.  Being His follower doesn’t mean that we avoid difficulty.  Indeed, for those in more than fifty countries around the world, declaring one’s discipleship is paramount to asking for trouble – persecution, imprisonment, torture, death.  However, although He never promised that His followers would spend their lives lying on a bed of roses, He did promise that He would be with them – and that makes all the difference!

Who is at your side when the storms of life rage?  I commend Jesus to you.

Loving my enemy!

First of all, an apology to anyone who may have expected to receive this mailing yesterday! My wife and I are currently visiting dear friends south of Paris and, last evening, we got into a deep discussion on the thorny topic of divorce and remarriage! I shall endeavour to ensure that the next post - on the third Sunday of the month, will be sent out on time!

Last time, we looked at the parable of the Prodigal Son (or the Loving Father), as one of the best-known of the stories that Jesus of Nazareth told.

Another of those parables that is well-known even by those who make no claim to be followers of Jesus, is the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10).  Indeed, this parable has, at least in its name, become part and parcel of everyday language.  How often have you heard someone say (or maybe even said yourself) that, in a particular situation, “[Name] was a good Samaritan.”  What is usually meant is that the person helped out in what may even have been a rather insignificant way.

However, the parable goes much more deeply than that!  

The man who was travelling down the tortuous mountain road from Jerusalem to Jericho, was a Jew.  After he had been attacked, robbed, stripped, and left for dead, the first person to come along the road was a Jewish priest.  It would appear that he was travelling up the road towards Jerusalem, presumably to take up his duties in the Temple.  He saw the man, but “passed by on the other side” because, if he had touched a dead body, he would have been barred from the Temple service.  Then came a Levite – another Temple worker – and, for the same reason, he too “passed by on the other side”.

The poor man, who may have managed, through barely-opened eyelids, to see these fellow-Jews; these ‘pillars of society’; these religious personages; pass by, must have been in deep despair.  Suddenly, he heard the clip-clop of a donkey.  He peered through his bruised eyes and, to his horror, saw a Samaritan! 

Now, to understand his reaction, we must realise that Jews and Samaritans, in that culture, hated each other with a passion that would have made the feelings of certain football club supporters towards one another seem like genuine fondness by comparison!  What would this man do?  Would he take advantage of the situation, and ‘kick the man while he was down’?  How amazed the victim would have been to be so gently, and carefully, tended to by this member of a hated ethnicity!  Not only that, but when they reached the next inn, the Samaritan paid for him to stay there until he had recovered – and assured the innkeeper that if the injured man needed to stay longer than had been paid for, he would settle the account on his next trip!  By the way, he must have had a good reputation to be thus trusted!

Of course, this is what Jesus had taught in what we usually refer to as "the Sermon on the Mount" (Matt. 5-7) where we read: «You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you salute only your brethren, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.» (Matt 5:43-48).

The priest and the Levite allowed duty, even "religious" duty, to get in the way of helping a fellow-man.  The Samaritan helped his fellow-man, even ‘though it meant overcoming ethnic hatred.

I wonder what you or I would have done – or would do – in a similar situation.

It’s a thought!