People who love their lives do differently

Irish cows (I suppose)

Two things from a web site entitled "10 Things That The People Who Love Their Lives Are Doing Differently":

 - They do things because they want to do them, not because they believe they have to do them.

 - They don’t bother changing others, but instead learn how to deal with them appropriately.

Differently? For me I think not, and neither were any of the other eight any surprise. And yet I still find myself often dancing to another tune. But who is the piper?

Is it when I don my Christian hat? Not that I ever take it off - I just think about taking it off. A bit like Kipling's Muslim Mahbub Ali 'So says my Law--or I think it does'. I wonder what God wants of me and to what extent I should "be faithful" to those I fellowship with. Hmm. Like what would Jesus do? Not that I would ever wear one of those bracelets. I abhor anything unnecessary being attached to my body. And, no, I do not have a wedding ring - I don't even wear a watch unless it is the GPS variety and then only for a short period. So does that make me a hedonist? Or an ascetic?

Christians are often accused of thinking it is somehow wrong to enjoy oneself. Something to feel guilty about.  This quote from Chelsea Handler, who doesn't come across as a God seeker herself, sums up the absurdity nicely: "I think only hedonists believe in God, in the same way that I think only hedonists have babies."

Then there is the Buddhist's "middle way" a path of moderation, between the extremes of sensual indulgence and self-mortification which sounds to me a bit like a cop out.

My drainage canal on the lake shore

Joining the ponds to the lake proper

So is it wrong to make canals in the sand at my age? Or to run barefoot imagining I am a locomotive following a well graded permanent way along the lake shore, carefully choosing places to cross gorges and chasms hundreds of millimetres deep carved out over the eons by surface run-off. Or messing in mud. Or taking random photos of cows whilst I am on a run. Or posing for ridiculous shadow selfies. All on my own. Or, on a slightly more serious note, randomly improvising on the piano, or humming a favourite tune in parts. Combining colour filters in a search for the ultimate hue. Maintaining a blog that few read. Or, as the song goes, climbing mountains or jumping in a lake. Enjoying a Cherry Bakewell. Is it not possible to praise my Maker in such things? Rather than being restricted by accepted evangelical/charismatic liturgy and the paraphernalia that goes with it?

A random stock photo - not me, but it might have been

Looks like it runs in the family...

And this is me - yet again!

We non-conformists watch Catholic or high-church antics with mingled horror and disbelief, and yet how much of what we do is likewise mumbo-jumbo to the average agnostic? Lord save me from doing things just because some implied rule book tells me I should. But on the other hand Lord save me from only ever doing things just because I want to. There has to be a better reason, like "hath God said?". But I wonder just how much He does say and then, in the absence of such direction or other constraints like "love thy neighbour as thyself", why not enjoy life: abounding as well as sometimes being abased?

Here's another thing. I'm not good with words. Hence this blog as being just possibly a better way for me to communicate. Typically I will re-read and make changes to a longer post like this one many time and over many days, a degree of freedom one does no have with speech. And besides, when speaking, especially in public, I often fail to get across the very point I set out to make. In an argument the other person can easily walk all over me. When I was very young I was given speech therapy and they said I was lazy. With worship songs that we sing, I know the music but often cannot recall the exact words. I do not believe I have ever written poetry and am probably incapable of it. It is not that words have no meaning for me - I marvel when I read a book that is (IMHO) well written and I have even been known (though rarely) to appreciate poetry. I am a slower than average reader and am intimidated by small print or excess or flowery description. What interests me in a book or a film is believable fantasy, portrayal of character, the set, and music - more than plot - and if I identify then I long to know what happens to the protagonist (or the actor) afterwards.

I prefer emails to telephone calls. I will do almost anything to avoid the latter. With an email there is at least the chance to make changes before pressing the button. But I know folk who are quite the reverse and sometimes we don't meet.

Why am I saying this? Because the liturgy and paraphernalia I mentioned above is so bound up in words and, where does that leave those of us who struggle with speaking? - I have noticed how such people easily get side-lined. Because so much value is placed on words.

My work involves programming. Writing assembler for a RISC processor is great - there are only about 50 instructions to remember: I can memorise that many and then I am in total control. Assembler is simple and deterministic. An op-code such as "incf 23" increments the value in memory address 23 and takes exactly one machine cycle to execute. At the other end of the extreme a language like C# is very verbose and maybe few programmers know all the vocabulary it offers. C# is very clever and, given such knowledge, enables you to do very smart things with just a few lines of code, but don't expect a known result in a known amount of time! I am not comfortable with programming in C# because I can't remember all those words and thus feel out of control.

Granted that the Gospels are more about Jesus but you'd think they or maybe Paul's epistles would mention his disciples - but for most of them there is little or no record of what they said or did. Simon Peter is of course the exception. And yet I suppose the rest of them were chosen for a reason. Take Matthew - we suppose he wrote the gospel bearing his name and yet there is no record of what he did or said in the whole of the NT apart from the fact that he was a tax collector and followed Jesus immediately when called.

One other disciple in particular comes to mind. Dear Thomas, pragmatist to the end. I say "dear", of course, because I identify with him.

In the four very obviously ordered lists of apostles (Matthew, Mark, Luke and Acts) he comes half way - neither most nor least noteable. His three other mentions are all in the gospel of John.

Dean Jones in John on Patmos

In chapter 11 he makes a possibly snide remark which Adam Clarke comments well on. In chapter 14, whilst Jesus is explaining spiritual truths in somewhat mysterious language, he interjects "we haven't a clue what you're talking about so how can be possibly know the way?" And finally, post resurrection, we have Jesus appearing to and showing his hands and side to the disciples, but Thomas happens not to be there. On catching up afterwards he remarks indignantly "Unless I see in his hands the marks of the nails and place my fingers into his side, I will never believe" which Dean Jones impersonates rather well in his John on Patmos. Dear Thomas. I hope I would have done the same, for I'd certainly have thought it. Maybe the more "spiritual" among us might despise him (and me) for lack of faith - such folk might consider themselves spiritual but I think they do not understand the word.

Eight days later, Jesus (though the doors were locked) enters and announces himself with "Peace be with you" and in the very next breath, wonder of wonders and never mind the other disciples there, he says to Thomas "Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side." No ticking off, no putting down, he meets Thomas just where he is and supplies just what he needs to evoke his response "My Lord and my God!"

Martyrdom of St. Thomas, by Peter Paul Rubens

Wanting, as always, to know what happened to the protagonist, I did a bit of research and found that there is good reason to believe that Thomas later traveled to India where he preached the gospel and was martyred. Less certain is the tradition that he was killed by a sword being thrust into his side.

In this short life that we live there is a whole lot more than talking.