2006 Reflections

 

It is important to cherish summer evenings, for they soon pass into autumn. Try to keep the boundaries of frenetic daytime activity in place so that the cool of evening becomes a haven, a time to put the day’s events into perspective and to submit its stresses to the restful hours of night. Whittier’s hymn provides a prayer.
 

“ Drop Thy still dews of quietness
 Till all our strivings cease;
 Take from our souls the strain and stress
 And let our ordered lives confess
 The beauty of Thy peace.”

 
What did Jesus do in the evening? Of course he would have spent time with disciples and friends, but on other occasions, as Matthew recorded after the feeding of the five thousand, “Jesus went up into the hills by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone.”

 
What would Jesus pray about? Remembering that he referred to himself as the Good Shepherd, of the line of David, psalmist, shepherd and king, we may find clues in the evening duties of shepherds on the hillsides of Galilee. Having guided the flock to the safety of the sheepfold, the shepherd would patiently examine each sheep, noting any cuts and bruises and the weariness in its eyes. He would apply healing balm, anointing the head with soothing oil and finally, he would provide a cool refreshing draught of water from a two-handled cup dipped into the supply and brimming to overflowing. Satisfied that all due care had been given, the shepherd would usher his charges into the enclosure, placing himself as the gate for nighttime protection. There he might play a flute or strum a small harp while shadows lengthened and a hush fell over the landscape.

For Jesus, his flock consisted of the people he loved. Alone in prayer with his Father in heaven, Jesus would have brought, in mental pictures, each bruised and wounded soul that he had encountered during that day, before the mercy seat. He would petition for healing and wholeness, for guidance, protection, wisdom and grace. And knowing that the shepherd would even give his life to save his sheep, Jesus would be preparing himself for that ultimate act of love to ransom his human flock. Just as each sheep was infinitely precious to the shepherd, so are we to Jesus. He still petitions for us today in all our turmoil and vulnerability.

Into the heat of our desires, he brings the cool touch of restraint. Into the headstrong heat of anger, he brings the still, small voice of calm. Into the throbbing heat of hurt emotions, he pours the healing balm.

 
Henry Twells ends his beautiful evening hymn with this assurance:

 
“Thy touch has still its ancient power
 No word from Thee can fruitless fall;
 Hear in this solemn evening hour
 And in Thy mercy heal us all”.

 
Iris Niven (Aug 2006)

 

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LIGHTING THE FIRE

Amongst the many beautiful and intriguing paintings on display at the Kelvingrove Art Museum in Scotland, is one called The Ornothologist. Eye-catchingly colourful and exquisite in detail, it invokes the era of Victorian exploration and the penchant for collecting samples from exotic and hitherto unknown species of birds.

An elderly grandfather, sporting a decorated fez hat, and seated in his study, is surrounded by a group of children who are totally engrossed in his vivid tales of lands beyond the horizon and the fabulously plumed birds that inhabit these wondrous places.
He has displayed examples of brilliant beauty and the atmosphere is clearly charged with enthusiasm and eager curiosity.

One might stand for a long time before such a scene gazing at the expressions on the faces of the children, catching the glint in the grandfather’s eyes and almost hearing the surge of questions and patient, yet vibrant explanations.

It has always been the privilege and responsibility of the elderly to inspire and enthuse the young. By the flicker of camp fires or by the gleam of candle and lamplight, tales of heroic deeds and discovery have been passed down by oral tradition, preserving history, establishing culture and equipping the rising generation with values, principles and worthy role models.
These stories and fables encouraged risk taking self-sacrifice for the sake of others, and resilience and initiative where good must triumph over evil. They fired the imagination.
Nowadays our youngsters are easily bored, supervised constantly in a culture of fear and allowed to live in the invasive world of computer generated “reality”.

Hopefully, in the long summer weeks, there will be opportunities for the old and the young to spend quality time together, engaging in conversation and exploring the simple yet magical world of creation in our close surroundings.

Three virtues are needed; sincerity, enthusiasm and inspiration.

“Sincerity” has an interesting origin. In the days when wealthy Roman citizens invested immense sums of money in the building of impressive homes of choicest marble, sculptors sometimes practiced deceitful tricks. Deficiencies in the marble structure would be filled with wax, giving the appearance of perfection until the heat and damp of the weather finally disclosed the malpractice. It became necessary to introduce a sine cera, that is “without wax” clause into building contracts. The sincere teacher never misleads or misrepresents.

“Enthusiasm” comes from the Latin “enthusiasmus” meaning the supposed possession by a god, or the Greek en theos, invoking the passion, zeal and vision that such a visitation might generate. Charles Kingsley, clergyman, novelist and social reformer said, “we act as though comfort and luxury where the chief requirements of life when all we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about.”

The word “inspiration” has a theological connection with the act of divine guidance and influence directly on the human mind and soul. It involves inhalation, and the breath of God that transformed Adam into a living, dynamic being, able to communicate with his Creator.
In particular, as we pass the torch of faith down the family lines, may we have that burning heart, that passion of soul and that quickening of spirit that kindled an undying flame in the disciples who conversed with Jesus on the road to Emmaus. There he unfolded for them the annuls of history and brought prophecy into living, present reality. May God’s Spirit inspire us also to convey his message of hope, joy, love and salvation with sincerity and enthusiasm.           

Iris Niven (July 2006)

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DESTINATIONS

The old woman was confused. She had boarded a bus, clutching a handful of coins, which she had offered to the driver. Dolefully, he stared straight ahead. “ What’s your destination?” he demanded. Again the coins were proffered. “It’s forty five pence”, the old woman muttered. “Listen missus,” sighed the driver, “you have to tell the man in the wee box where you are going.”

The old woman hesitated, glanced furtively over her shoulder, and then lowered her head till her lips were level with the ticket dispenser. “I’m goin’ t’ma sister’s”, she lisped.

With a gesture of mock exasperation, the driver finally accepted the coins, plunged his foot on the accelerator and hurtled the bus on its way.

The old woman had been sure of her hearts desire to reach a particular destination, but she was able to describe it only in the vaguest of terms. She named her destination as the person she longed to see.

Several decades earlier, a young woman hummed the latest popular song as she happily prepared for an evening at the cinema. Life was grim and a good film offered an escape to the land of fantasy for an hour or two. That hope was dashed however, when the bus was delayed and she arrived at the cinema too late to gain entrance as the film had started and the cinema was full. Disappointed, she began to walk the mile to the next cinema, when suddenly the dark skies were filled with the banshee wail of air-raid sirens. Scuttling towards the nearest shelter, the young woman joined families and strangers as they huddled together while warplanes droned overhead exploding buildings, shattering lives and destroying utterly every familiar landmark.

As dawn stroked icy fingers across the smoke-stained sky, the company emerged through a veil of silence and dust, to view an alien, blitzed-out world.

Then the truth dawned.

The cinema that had barred the young woman’s entrance had taken a direct hit. Everyone had been killed. Around the second cinema, close to the bombsite, rescue workers stumbled through acrid fumes in a desperate attempt to find survivors.

Choking with fear and bewilderment, the young woman realized that she had been spared not once, but twice in a single evening. Words that she had heard in childhood flooded into her memory.

“Seek the Lord while He may be found.
Call upon Him while He is near.”

She gladly gave her heart and life to God that night and sealed her eternal destination.

When Jesus stated his destination as “I must go to Jerusalem”, the disciples were appalled. They knew that capture and cruel death would certainly be the outcome. At this stage they could neither accept nor understand the divine plan to provide an eternal destination for those who come by faith and confession to avail themselves of forgiveness through the atoning death of Christ. When we do so, we can describe our eternal destination in terms of a person whom we long to see.

“Where Jesus is, ‘tis, heaven there.”

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.” 1 Corinthians 2 v 9.

What a glorious destination!

Iris Niven (June 2006)

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BROKEN POTS

As the merry month of May dances onto our calendar with nodding cherry blossom and lilac trees lately blooming, the collection of pots around our gardens are being filled with summer-flowering plants. The garden centres offer tempting displays of colourful pots, glazed and glistening as handsome ornaments for patios and door steps.

As we prepare fresh compost however, we realize that good drainage is necessary, so we search around the garden for broken pieces of pottery, victims of frost or accident, and put them to use in the base of our new pots. These potsherds will not be visible now, but they will nevertheless contribute usefully to the health and vibrant beauty of the flowers blossoming above them.

In Bible times, as in some places even today, large unglazed pots were used for fetching and storing fresh water. Their porous walls kept water cool in hot weather by the process of external evaporation, and they were constantly in use conveying daily supplies from the local well. Balanced high on a small head-cushion, or carried on the shoulders of the women folk, these vessels made numerous journeys over rough terrain, and consequently often suffered an untimely fate. The slightest knock when setting down, or a stumble on a rocky surface would reduce these large vessels to a pile of brittle pieces.

In Ecclesiastes ch.12, human life, fragile and temporary, is likened to a "pitcher broken at the fountain."

Were these broken pots cast aside and disregarded thereafter? No, not at all.

Broken pieces of pottery could be found in deliberately placed piles in all the villages. Some were large enough and suitable in shape for the carrying of live coals to light fires for cooking and warmth. Thus heat and comfort would be conveyed and shared from hearth to neighbour. Other pieces were used as tablets on which memoranda or business transactions would be scratched and recorded. Archaeologists find these "ostraca" vitally important in illuminating historical lifestyles.

Other potsherds could be used as scoops for drinking water, particularly around the wells, so that travellers and weary labourers could be refreshed and cooled in the heat of the day.

Broken vessels are still useful.

Taking up the analogy in Ecclesiastes, we can contemplate brokenness as it confronts us in our communities. Those whose life experiences have rendered them fractured in body or spirit are precious to God and should be in receipt of God’s compassion and comfort as ministered by us. Indeed, our own brokenness contributes to our empathy and experience, all the more effectively to assist our brothers and sisters. The proud and arrogant ones, God resists, but the humble and broken spirit, in His eyes, is one that can be sanctified and envisioned for his great and special purposes.

Sometimes a glazed vessel would emerge from the kiln, with little visible cracks, just as we at times emerge from difficult experiences with our faith feeling "cracked".

The potter did not reject his cracked pots. Instead, he created a cement from powdered broken vessels, mixed with the blood of tiny insects found on the body of bulls. He then filled the cracks and returned the pot to the heat of the kiln, repeating the process till he was satisfied with his work. He then put his stamp on the pot.

Do you feel like a broken person? God can sanctify and use you, and put His stamp on you, acknowledging you as His own. Just ask the Master Potter HOW you may best serve Him. He will answer you, because He loves you.

Iris Niven (May 2006)

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A NEW DISPENSATION

The woman stood trembling in the Temple precincts, overawed by the majesty and splendour of her surroundings. Beyond the pillars and exquisite curtains, lay treasures beautiful beyond description.

Someone behind her removed her veil and loosened her hair so that it tumbled about her shoulders like that of a woman of the night. She felt tarnished and afraid.

Her husband, exercising his legal jurisdiction, and suspecting her of unfaithfulness, yet without proof, had insisted that she present herself to the Temple authorities, to be tested. Her ardent protests had gone unheeded. She was weary of weeping and pleading to be spared this ordeal. Now she stood, under oath before the symbols of holiness, watching as a priest approached with a small drinking vessel in his hand. It contained holy water infused with a curse that had been written on a scroll, and then dipped into the water.

"Drink, that your innocence or guilt may be made manifest", he ordered.

She knew the consequences of guilt. Her abdomen would swell up and the muscles of her thighs would waste away. She would witness the merciless condemnation of every eye that looked upon her. Further judgement would follow. It was such a bitter drink indeed.

In the heat of the day, when man and beast sheltered and rested, another woman furtively made her way to the well of Samaria.

It was the only time to collect household supplies of water, whilst avoiding the gossip and speculation that attended her trail of relationships through five marriages and an on-going affair.

To her surprise, a man dressed in the robes of the lands to the south, approached out of the shimmering heat and graciously asked her to draw water to provide a cooling, refreshing drink.

The mores of hospitality compelled her to comply with his request, but she could not hide her astonishment that he should even look in her direction. Even more amazing was his accurate knowledge of her lifestyle and circumstances.

Then came the most surprising statement of all when he offered a supply of living water from the fountain of life, so vibrant with divine energy, that the one who partook of it would never spiritually thirst again.

How could these things be? What could he mean? And how she longed for such refreshment, she who lived in a dusty wilderness of broken dreams and the burning heat of shame and ill repute. It was a drink, not infused with a curse, but with utter purity and sweet peace.

We are approaching Easter, that time on the annual turn of seasons, when we remember with special focus, the atoning death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. Not only are we offered the immeasurable blessing of forgiveness of sins, but the raising to life of God’s Son, brings in a dispensation of grace that remains to this day. No longer bound by the judgement of the Levitical Law, we come in sincere confession to receive cleansing, mercy and peace. The fountain of living water that Jesus offered still flows today, rising pure, abundant and constant from its source, Jesus Christ. It holds the same promise that Jesus offered the woman of Samaria, a well of life, springing up within the essence of her soul, purging, purifying and renewing forever.

May this be a truly HAPPY EASTER for you all.


References: Numbers ch.5, John ch.4
 

Iris Niven (April 2006)

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SEEING STARS

So, the London Planetarium has announced its imminent closure. The reason? Apparently there is not enough interest from the public to warrant its continued performance, especially in competition with the wax-work models in Madame Tussauds. The nation is more excited by celebrity stars than by celestial ones.

Naturally, Sir Patrick Moore is outraged. He recalls how a book by G. F. Chambers inspired in his young mind, a life-long fascination with astronomy. He asks, "How many countless other small children have experienced that same moment of epiphany on turning their faces upwards to see the myriad stars covering the great dome of the London Planetarium?"

How can we possibly have become so captivated by the transient, fickle cult of fame, that we would rather gaze on wax faces than at the awesome, dazzling heavenly display that has inspired our most celebrated writers, poets and musicians? What an indictment on our nation. While countless stars have traversed unfathomable space, Hollywood glamour has briefly shimmered and faded, exposing crude, often debauched and obsessive lifestyles.

When hatred against the established faith raged in France, the voice of rebellion screamed, "We will tear down your churches, destroy your pictures and demolish everything that reminds you of God," back came the serene response, "But you will leave us the stars."

A sage once remarked, "Observe a horse, when he has been given a nosebag of oats. He immediately sets about devouring his food without any thought of lifting his head to the heavens to bless God for his provision. Human beings were designed to have a neck that tilts the head backwards, without losing balance, so that they might contemplate the Almighty Provider."

If our children were really to lose all sense of wonder at the vast amphitheatre of diamond lights, will their aspirations, in the end, be higher than swamp creatures, content with mud?

By the stars, our ancestors navigated to new territories, have calculated times and seasons, and have pushed the very edges of intellect to explore the mysteries of astro physics. What is dark energy, or a time warp, or a black hole? Will we ever be able to detect the invisible element that apparently makes up 96% of our universe? Is there another planet earth somewhere?

It has been said that 25,000,000,000kw hours of energy are needed to produce one kilo of matter. How much energy therefore was required to produce the whole globe, plus all the planets and stars, more numerous than the grains of sand on all the ocean fringes?

"The heavens declare... the work of His hands," concluded the Psalmist, with a breathless sense of wonder that lifts the human spirit beyond the boundaries of mortality, to touch eternity.

In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul warns against a befuddled comparison of values. "The glory of the terrestrial is one kind, and the glory of the celestial is another." God also warns that neither should be worshipped. Deut.4v19. Yet the book of Daniel, chapter 12, contains a remarkable verse. "Those who impart wisdom will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever."

That is God’s definition of real star quality. Your face may not be displayed in Madame Tussauds, but in the everlasting oracles of God, whose dwelling is above the starry heavens, the soul that abides in His service dazzles with a light that will never fade away.

Iris Niven (March 2003)

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WHY DO WE SING?

Eerie wisps of mist floated over argent grass and ghosted the silent sentinel trees. The hushed night air was animated only by my own footsteps, and the dog sniffing for foxes in the deep shadows. The half moon compensated for lack of quantity by awarding itself a spookish halo, then grimacing from behind a dark curtain, like some malevolent deity bent on mischief.

How would it be, one wonders, if faith were founded only on the fickle whims of celestial bodies, or mythological gods? How must it have felt, in ancient times to be ruled in fate by inaccessible and powerful entities whose virtues and vices were exaggerated versions of our own characteristics?

Such uncertain, vulnerable dependence would understandably lead to the frantic rituals and spine-chilling temple sacrifices that dominated the lives of our ancestors. Never satisfied, the gods supposedly always demanded yet more as they presided over fertility, harvest and natural disaster.

Nowadays we have a scientific explanation for almost everything. We know what causes drought, famine, disease and pestilence. We make plans for the stewardship of the environment, irrigation, recycling, conservation and pollution control. We have chartered outer space, transferred ourselves into virtual reality and traded in cyberspace.

Yet we still comprehend only a fraction of the workings of our own brain, that mass of grey matter cradled within our own skulls. How do we explain that within its electrically charged systems, there lurks a still, small voice that calls us to find God?

The secret of wholeness lies in a happy ending to the quest for answers. Who am I? Why am I here?

The search for genealogical roots, the ambitious commitment to achievement, and fame driven behaviour are all poor substitutes for a resolution to the soul-searching conundrum, "How can I find God, and what does He want of me?"

Genetic science now suggests that we each possess within our DNA, a gene that promotes spiritual development, some more effectively than others. We have an inbred spiritual transmission system. When it gets switched on, the results are truly startling. We become aware of a two-way communication system that is potentially life changing. This is the "life more abundant" that Jesus described. It is a living relationship, transforming, fulfilling, exciting and eternal. We call, God answers. God calls, we respond.

Professor David Rothenburg believes that he has found a way to communicate with birds. By using musical instruments such as a clarinet, a Bulgarian whistle pipe, or a Norwegian overtone flute, he invokes a joyful response from the feathered creatures that share our innate love of music. His adventures in bird language are described in a book called simply, "Why Birds Sing". He concludes that whilst animals make noises, only humans, whales, dolphins, mice and songbirds possess the ability to create and to learn new tunes.

Why do we sing? From whence comes this compelling, emotionally- charged need to lift our voices to touch heaven itself?

Despite unique and intriguing research however, Professor Rothenburg can never truly experience what it feels like to be a bird. His attempts at communication remain experimental.

The two-way system between God and humankind is different. The Son of God has become a man.

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us", says the Apostle John. He taught us how to pray, to switch on and tune in.

We do not need to search the astrological pathways, or create images with mythological histories, or offer gifts in fear and hopefulness. We do not follow "cunningly devised fables".

Why do we sing? We sing because heaven pulsates in our souls. We are born to it.

SWITCH ON and TUNE IN.

Iris Niven (February 2006)

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MORE TO FOLLOW

There is something exciting about fixing a new calendar to the wall. Its thick collection of pages hold the promise of another 365 days of opportunity, days of family history in the making and days full of potential for fresh revelation and experience.

Of course the sun does not shine all year round, nor do we have unbroken sunshine on life’s journey. What we do have is the sure and certain promise of God’s light on our way, his peace in times of turmoil and his wise and loving counsel when we must make choices and difficult decisions.

It is also certain that whatever grace we have received, however much blessing and provision we have enjoyed, the eternal store has not been depleted. There is yet more.

When donating a gift, a dear friend of mine has the habit of saying to the recipient, "Your Heavenly Father owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and He has just sold one at the market."

Nor does the store that lies waiting for your use this year, consist only of material wealth. Throughout Scripture there are vivid and diverse descriptions of the undiminished provision that God makes for the inner well being and spiritual vitality of his children.

Despite outward appearances, we are inwardly being "renewed day by day." 2 Corinthians 4v16. "My youth is being renewed like the eagles," said King David. Psalm 103v5. "Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength." Isaiah 40v31.

One of the most successful advertisements of recent times, advocates the health giving properties of olive oil. It depicts elderly folk doing wondrously youthful feats. The olive tree, which is mentioned forty times in the Old Testament, produces abundant fruit and oil, to the extent that one tree may furnish ten to fifteen gallons of oil. The fruit is harvested by beating or shaking the tree (Deut. 24v20), and the tree often lives to a very great age, bearing fruit till the last, even when the trunk seems nothing but a shell. The Psalmist muses on this phenomenon when he describes the righteous ones as "still bringing forth fruit in old age." Psalm 92v14.

Elaine Solowey, a desert agriculture expert has succeeded in germinating a 2000-year-old date palm seed. Several seeds were found during excavations at Masada, the historic mountainside fortress and were eventually sent to Solowey for research purposes.

The seeds were soaked in hot water to make them amenable to other fluids, and then soaked in a solution of nutrients and an enzymatic fertilizer before planting. By March this year, the first signs of growth appeared, and by June the young sapling was progressing with healthy leaves in evidence. The revival of this ancient variety of date palm may provide valuable knowledge for medicinal purposes. Life has been reawakened. The encouraging news points us to the wonder of regeneration. Soaked in the warmth of our desire to know God more closely, and nourished by his unfailing love, life is kindled deep within the soul and the miracle of rebirth occurs.

God, the Author of Life continually revives, replenishes, re-creates.

A young widow, struggling to raise her family on meagre financial resources, was amazed to learn from a solicitor, that an old friend had bequeathed to her a substantial sum of money, to be paid in instalments over several years. Each time a cheque arrived in the post it was accompanied by a note assuring the widow that there was "still more to follow."

As you turn the pages of your calendar this year, remember that in the blessings of God’s grace and love, there is always MORE TO FOLLOW.

 

Iris Niven (January 2006)

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