The World is Round and Very Small

Imagine a sphere about the size of a tennis ball. Imagine the thin film of adsorbed water molecules just barely clinging to its surface. If this sphere were analogous to our planet, that layer would be our ecosphere. We'd be living in that layer.

Now imagine the solar wind, a dry hot radiant blast of desert air, all ions, all heat, all light. It gusts suddenly with abnormal violence across the face of the tennis ball, and in one umbral sweep, the phosphorescence engendered by the dwellers in the thin film of water goes out.

Hah, not in my lifetime, everyone says.

I remember Chesterton describing the meditation of the heart as, "The hidden room in man's house where God sits all the year / The secret window whence the world looks small and very dear."

Sometimes we forget how small we are, and how great our smallness. Of course, man's reach must exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven for? But sometimes, we grasp too little, too late. Sometimes, our reach goes where it is of no bloody use at all.

Family Opinion

My family's opinion has always been very valuable to me. It's sometimes a problem though, when the entire body of family opinion is focused like a meson cannon upon a few key principles and doesn't bother with the rest. For some time now, I've actually thought of how the mending of a man's heart should be a moment for rejoicing regardless of context. The main problem is that not everyone thinks so. That's painful.

I think we should all be generous of spirit, regardless. People who have suffered a lot sometimes counter this argument by raising more and more outrageous examples (which sadly, are often true). Witness the intense and widespread suffering of the Jews during the Holocaust, for example. But most situations are not so dire, and that means that apart from extremes, we should honour the general principles of the human spirit: waste not, want not, weary not, wound not.

Sometimes, as is the case between the sons of Ishmael (firstborn of Abraham, in case people forget) and the sons of Isaac (the second, who was almost sacrificed), the divide is too deep to be bridged. The original situation was made untenable, and the foundations dissolved long ago. The only thing to do is to start afresh, not build from foundations which have crumbled. But the enmity between the bloodlines has become a meme, and those are difficult to erase as long as the collective heart of a people (or the collective hearts of two peoples, in this case) choose to actively remember and renew these things.

And who is to say that this is not the natural way of the world? Or that, sadly, we should ever be able to overcome it?

Leadership

I think the greatest conundrum facing the modern Christian lies in this one word. Too often, we are bombarded by alternative meanings of the word 'leadership' that have nothing to do with any Christian model - meanings from the world of commerce, business, trade and economics; meanings from the world of politics, governance, administration and management; meanings from sociology, anthropology, psychology and zoology.

Let's cut to the chase. What is a Christian leader? There are many words translated thusly in the New Testament - words which would come across most directly as 'hegemon' (ruler), 'overseer', 'governor' or 'archon' (primus inter pares). None of these are used of Jesus, the 'author and finisher of our faith'.

There is no doubt that there are many appointed by God or by men to fulfil these roles, but there is equal certainty that the Messiah promised in Isaiah sometimes produced different images in the minds of men - images which some of us still retain falsely. In a few verses like Isaiah 55:4, the Messiah is seen as a leader and commander of his people. But even this is eclipsed by the many more verses which show him as a willing sacrifice, a scapegoat for the sins of his people.

So what is leadership? Leadership is a lesser role than that of servant. To be a servant is to serve without leadership in any sense but that your example makes others want to serve as well. To be a servant in such a way as to minister to others, to give of your self, to suffer and to take on burdens beyond the bearing of others, to forgive wrongs, to defy despair - these are the great things of the servant that a leader will never be able to touch.

But the church has need of leaders too, the people appointed as the outriders and guardians of the flock, to do the mundane chores of administration, seecurity, governance, finance and such like. It is telling that the gifts of the spirit separate leadership (governance) from apostleship, preaching, teaching and even encouragement. It is only the world that demands a leader should have all these things as well. No; a leader is a sergeant-at-arms, the political boss whose job it is to ensure turnout on the final day of voting, the person who runs the commissary and the refectory. He is no prophet, no preacher, no teacher - and conversely, a person with such a greater gift must consider seriously if he should be a administrator at all, unless that is his gift.

Administrative skill isn't everything. In a world of hierarchies and worldly powers, of thrones and dominations, of rulers (does anyone remember how God treated the Israelites who wanted a king?) and those who would lord it over others, it might seem to be a great thing; indeed, in some countries, the Administrative Service is the senior instrumentality of state.

But this is not the most excellent way. And so I must regretfully say that the idea of 'servant leadership' is (or has been transformed by human venality into) a bad modern idea which builds its ragged nest upon the true kingship of the greatest servant of all.

Godfather

I suppose nobody nowadays can read that title and not think of violin music and that haunting theme song from the movie of Mario Puzo's book.

But this little post is written as I reflect on my role as a godfather - not entirely in the orthodox sense of the word, but in a few extended senses.

My first attempt at being a godfather was when my best friend of many years proudly announced to three of us that we would all be godfathers to his infant son. I remember one beautiful wintry morning in North London, some years later, when the young fellow looked up from play in the garden, armed with a staff, and saw his long-absent (and somewhat derelict in duty) godfather. "Godfather," he exclaimed, eyes big and round, "Is that really you?"

We never had much time together, and now he is grown and no longer communicates with me. I feel some loss, a certain disquieting sense that I could have done more for him. But he and his family have moved over four continents, and I have lost track of him. It is all very sad. I could make the excuse that not being a Roman Catholic myself, I never really was a godfather - since one of the duties of a godfather is to sponsor a child for baptism (confirmation?) and to provide an alternative source of spiritual advice within the range permitted.

Since then, I have developed, in some sense, another kind of role. A godfather is really something like a psychopomp, with the obvious difference being that his role is to conduct a soul from one state to another (hopefully better) state which isn't the afterlife. A godfather is a mentor, an agent of socialisation; he is a support and guide through troubled places, times, and circumstances; he is a kind of hierophant. It is this last role which I have been reflecting on.

The word hierophant is Greek for 'he who reveals the sacred', or 'he who sheds light on the mysteries'. In the educational context which frames me and currently structures my existence in a secular sense, this is what I am. In the mundane, in the world that is bound by time and pressure, by numbers and powers, I reveal what I can of meaning and the higher realities. I am no angelic messenger or demiurge; I am not an unearthly spirit. I am just a man of odd talents in peculiar combination - as is every other man. It is just that sometimes, my combination seems to help others understand this particular world of knowledge.

And this is where I stand and bow to all those I serve. I have a blessing and some granted gifts which allow me to serve as a teacher, and where possible, a godfather. The prayer I make for myself and that I trust others will pray for me is: that I will be true to my calling and lead none astray.