The question instigated an inner dialogue with my younger self and I wondered if there was a pattern that I could trace; something that could give me a lead to the million dollar question in my teenage life, a question I remember having been repeatedly asked from the ages of nine to nineteen; why are most of your friends girls?

Though I am uncertain of how many of you will resonate with my words in this post, I am convicted to open up my heart, representing those sailing/ who have sailed similar waters to me, and to start a discussion with those interested.

Please note that the sole purpose of this post is to firstly, aid all of us, as the Body of Christ, to understand one another better by sharing a singular perspective on friendship that you may not have experienced “so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other” 1 Corinthians 12:25, and secondly to encourage us to dig deep, confronting our long-forsaken past insecurities that may be hindering us from moving forward in our present, “Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed…” Jeremiah 17:14.

Let me start by asking you;

Are most of your friends the same sex as you or the opposite sex?

Mine, for the majority of my life, have predominantly been of the opposite sex. I think it’ll be helpful to give you a background into why I think that has been the case; hopefully some of you will share similar experiences and relate to my story.

Throughout primary school I was mostly friends with other boys out of circumstance, not choice; I have no sisters and wasn’t surrounded by any young female relatives. I attended an all boys primary school and living in Cairo at the time, had very little exposure to girls at church. I do have distinct memories however, of eight year old me purposely avoiding to cross paths with specific boys due to a lack of relatibility. I vividly remember a sleepover with a church friend that left me feeling very ‘different’ to say the least; it was our tradition to play the Lion King PC game, but that evening my friend deemed it a “girls’ game” and we played, what was to me, a boring generic car-racing game instead. Little did I know that this was a glimpse into what I was going to encounter for the next ten or so years of my life.

Migrating to the UK aged 9 highlighted my disinterest in the majority of toys/ activities targeting my age/ sex demographic from the get-go; I could not care less about sports or cars and I certainly preferred drawing in my sketchbook or playing Pokemon Sapphire on my GameBoy Advance SP, than GTA with my brother on ‘our’ PS2. Befriending other males throughout secondary school became an intricate process of elimination; I deeply cherished the few that made me feel understood.

Though my social skills flourished in my teens, I began to embrace my introversion more and more – needing an intimate environment to feel safe. Naturally preferring and seeking long lasting one-on-one friendships, the false ‘revelation’ that I would not receive the intimacy I desired out of a friendship with another guy, was one I quickly believed. Without overly generalizing, I believe that young men struggle with emotional expression due to the hyper-masculine social construct they are born into from the get-go. Large male-dominated friendship groups are preferred over singular brotherhoods at that age as they provide a safety net from raw emotional expression, by masking a boy’s brokenness with quality banter and social hierarchy. In my case, the few male friendships I did harbor, disintegrated as quickly as they were formed.

Insecurity in Masculinity:

Having little in common with the males around me while growing up began to plant a seed of thought that I am not “man enough” for, what I perceived were, masculine tasks/ interests. The words “you’re just different from the other boys” that I had heard oh so often, began to seep into my skin and I had begun to base my entire identity on who I was not, rather than who I was.

Befriending females thus became very simple; since I was not like the other guys, and neither were they (being females themselves), we met on common grounds. I grew tired of the constant feeling of being “less manly” than the company surrounding me. I grew tired of proving my masculinity by faking my interest in subjects and banter that did not stimulate me. I grew tired of it all.

“The more one experiences pressures to “show oneself” and demonstrate masculine competency, the greater the hypervulnerability. The reason is that “showing off” one’s manhood is an emotionally immature process. This manhood is insecure and is based on what one does rather than who one is. Insecure masculinity comprises a set of behaviours driven by fear to prove to the world that one’s manhood isn’t weak, yet these same behaviours can inadvertently increase the feelings of fear they are intended to eradicate.”

– Niobe Way, Adolescent Boys – Exploring Diverse Cultures of Boyhood 

In an oestragen concentrated environment, testosterone is very easy to spot.

And that felt good.

It fed my ego when I was asked questions to understand the perspective of a guy by my female friends. I no longer sought masculine validation from other guys as it was affirmed by the multitude of girls around me. This insecurity in my masculinity grew deeper, cocooning me in a dangerous comfort zone around females, that neither challenged me as a man nor helped me to feel represented.

Though healing low self-esteem/ self-confidence, particularly targeting fragile masculinity as in my case, is a life-long journey, The Lord eases it by His grace.

“…the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.” Luke 1:78(b)-79

Though His luminosity exposes our innermost insecurities, instead of condemning us as the world does, The Lord uses His light to illuminate the road of healing for us to walk through, in order to achieve perfect peace with who we are. By exposing our insecurities to our Creator, we learn to humble ourselves in His presence and confess that though we do not posses the power to rid ourselves of our demons, He, the Alpha and Omega, surely does.

“The sick one who is acquainted with his sickness is easily to be cured; and he who confesses that he is in pain is near to health. Many are the pains of the hard heart; and when the sick one resists the physician, his torments will be augmented.”

– St. Isaac the Syrian

Truth rooted in The Word affirms who I am in Christ, rather than who I am not in the world. I begin to comprehend the intensity of The Father’s love for me; how He created my inmost being and knit me together in my mother’s womb (Ps 139:13). Trivial validations for masculinity or femininity from others in our worlds pale in comparison to a God-rooted self-confidence in our identities in Christ.

Embracing my identity in Christ and consequently my masculinity, however it manifests itself in my world, liberates me from trying to box what manhood means according to other people, in their worlds.

Embracing The Spectrum:

The healing process is radical. It not only frees you of your chains, but opens your eyes to your fellow man’s needs so that you are moved to minister to those you once deemed unworthy.

I spent my adolescent years wrongfully believing that the boys who had made me feel isolated growing up, were unworthy; of my friendship, my time, or even my concern. “They had had it easy”. They fit “the norm”, so any struggle they encountered I deemed insignificant compared to mine.

Once healing began, The Holy Spirit gave me a crash course on statistics to open my eyes as to how the Body of Christ functions. If you’re not familiar with the term ‘normal distribution’, it is a function that represents the distribution of many random variables. It’s normally represented in a ‘bell curve’, as shown in the diagram below;

I won’t bore you with the stats talk, trust me – I hated maths at school, but this perfectly illustrates the point that I want to make. (If you’re a maths genius, please bare with me as I butcher this concept). In this diagram, you can see that most variables fall in the centre at 34.1%, and as you move to either sides of the curve, the percentage decreases. The data is representing the distribution of the same variables; the majority is at the centre, but there are still plenty that don’t fall in the dark blue region.

Once I realised that though I may not fall in the “34.1%”, with the majority of men, in Christ I am still represented in the bell curve of masculinity, such a heavy weight was lifted. I belonged. I’m here. I’m here. I remember that season of discovery vividly – how the Holy Spirit used it to re-instill so much lost confidence in my soul,  even convicting and burdening me for my fellow brothers, whether in the 34.1% or in the 0.1% bracket, now that I had realised that we are one Body. “For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts…” Romans 12:4-6(a).We the Church, embrace the undeniable spectrum of personalities existing within humanity as it is created in God’s image and likeness, for “Christ is all, and is in all.” Colossians 3:11(b). In the Lord, the gentle man and the resilient woman, the expressive male and the reserved female, the stay-at-home father and the working mother alike, hold a significant role in the Body of Christ. A role that only the 0.1% on the bell curve can fulfill; a calling though not understood by the world, is fully known and anointed by The Father.

Every member of the Body becomes a spirit reflecting a trait of his/ her Creator in your eyes, when you choose to embrace the normal distribution that exists within your own sex and the opposite sex. This liberating truth opened the door to the brotherhood I had longed for all along; pure, unfiltered, edifying, long-lasting friendships with other men. Brotherhood that challenges me when I am falling short, comforts me when I am miserable, corrects me when I am backsliding, and prays for me when I am broken. By the grace of God, I now have brothers whose souls are knit to mine, and though we may fall at different points on the spectrum, “a friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity” Proverbs 17:17. 

“I want you to know that the love that is between me and you is no bodily love, but a spiritual love. For bodily friendship has no firmness or stability, being moved by strange winds.”

– St. Anthony

‘David & Jonathan’ by Joanne Rozeik

If you have walked a similar road to me, I pray for your healing. I pray that your rooted identity in the Lord would nourish your self-confidence; that the chains of self-doubt and low self esteem would break free today. I pray that you would accept the radical truth that you are called to serve and minister to those very same people that make you feel unqualified. “The man from whom the demons had gone out begged to go with him, but Jesus sent him away, saying, “Return home and tell how much God has done for you.” So the man went away and told all over town how much Jesus had done for him.” Luke 8:38-39.

If you fall in the 34.1%, I pray for your healing also. For we are one Body, and if one brother or sister is hurting, then you are hurting also. I pray that the Lord would use you to embrace His children at all ends of the beautiful spectrum that humanity has been created into. I pray that you are a voice for those that have yet to discover theirs.

“Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” Ephesians 3:20-21

Rewind to this time last year, I had entered a new season in my spiritual life that I simply could not get accustomed to. The best way I can describe it is “The Still Waters”. Bear with me here and we’ll paint a picture together.

My spiritual journey first began in the summer of 2012 on my first missionary trip to Kenya; a time in my life that I frequently reminisce on – the first couple of days I met my First Love, my Jesus. A chapter of great emotion; The Beginning. Bucketfuls of joyful tears from being introduced to the One who stole my heart and learning that I am a consecrated temple for Him (1 Kings 9:3). A season where I began to discover the difference between the Truth and my many ever-changing truths. I’m sure many of you can relate to a similar period in your life; when you first actively decided to make the shift from a “Sunday church-goer” to an “I want a real relationship with God” Christian.

That chapter lasted all of two pages, before the next, twenty paged, chapter – one that did not seem to ever want to end – came and really tested me; The Storm. A season of many questions and many tears (this time, not so joyful). A time that I begged the Lord to take away from me, nonetheless a time that showed me the real, practical side of God. The loving Father, the supporting Son and the comforting Holy Spirit. The Storm taught me the power of Hope; what it means to hope in Him and trust that I will not be put to shame (Psalm 25:3) even when darkness seems to prevail. God didn’t just use The Storm to open my eyes to His real, practical love for me, but also utilised it to convict me to serve others in the same way that He was ministering to me.

As quickly as it had come, The Storm had passed with the grace of God. I had grown accustomed to dreaming about what “could be” during that period of my life, that when I reached the other side, I couldn’t quite believe it.

The Still Waters; a season in your life where external circumstances are very comfortable, so that no intense emotions are evoked in your everyday living.

I had been liberated from what felt like the harshest storm, now finally making it into the still waters of a vast ocean. Freedom! Joy! Thankfulness! Gratitude! Relief! Excitement! I could do whatever I pleased and go wherever I wanted.

Except that I couldn’t…

I wandered in The Still Waters for an entire year, literally. I got lost; I circled around myself month after month finding myself right at the same spot where The Lord had originally delivered me to, after The Storm. The plethora of emotions I had experienced once delivered, faded away as fast as daylight on a cold November’s day. What was interesting was though I was completely lost at sea, I felt a comfort in knowing that “at least I was no longer in The Storm”.

And this is where it all went south…

Lesson 1: Still Waters Do Not Stir Emotion

What I hadn’t realised as I sailed into The Still Waters, was that up until this point in my life, my spirituality was entirely based on emotions (even though I genuinely didn’t think it was).

You see, Kenya to me was almost like the “honeymoon” stage of a relationship for The Lord and I; He outpoured His grace onto me and I gladly soaked it in. My relationship with Him at that time was heavily based on the stirring of my emotions – oh how the Spirit would move me in all circumstances! I began to know His heart but had placed Him in this nice ‘airy-fairy’ Christian bubble in my mind. And though The Lord impacted my everyday life choices, it almost felt like a daze – far away from reality.

I believe that is why He permitted The Storm to hit when it did – to wake me up! So I could be overwhelmed by “real life” and choose to integrate Him into it. So I could encounter His love and despite the pain of the world, would learn to take heart, for He has overcome the world (John 16:33).
What I hadn’t accounted for, was though I was growing in faith because of the trial, I was still completely dependent on emotions. Negative ones albeit, but emotions nonetheless. Despair would have completely overtaken me had I not run to Him, but it was that same despair that drove me to His arms in the first place.

“St. Diadochos of Photiki says that the Introductory Joy is one thing and the Perfecting Joy is another. The first one, being strongly emotional, is mixed with fantasy, “is not devoid of fantasy”, while Perfecting Joy is associated with humility. Between Emotional Joy and Perfecting Joy there is “god-loving sorrow and painless tears”. Emotional Joy, which is called Introductory, is not entirely rejected, yet we must be led to the Perfecting Joy. This perfection and cure is achieved through the cross.”

Metropolitan Hierotheos of Nafpaktos

When you’re smooth sailing in life though, there are absolutely no intense emotions being evoked. You’re neither ecstatic nor are you devastated, so coming to the Lord becomes an active choice. Your external circumstances do not push or force you to hold onto Him – it all becomes a choice. A true freedom bestowed on us from The Father; the freedom to completely abandon Him when life is neither healing nor hurting. A freedom I am not accustomed to and still figuring out how to handle.
Becoming dependant on your emotions in your walk with God can only lead to darkness. Emotions are fickle, ever-changing and temporal. They’re a great side dish to a main course, but they can never satisfy your innermost hunger.

What I have only come to realise now, is that emotions can only take us so far because of their nature; being passive. A relationship with our Creator, and consequently with our fellow men, has to be based on Love to succeed, and Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails (1 Corinthians 13:4-8).

Love is an action; an action that we deliberately perform. We have a Saviour who initiated that Love towards us, and that is how we are able to live Love, speak Love and think Love (1 John 4:19). While Love is an active decision to do, emotions are a passive result of receiving. Because you can Love with no emotions, but you cannot feel emotions without Love (or lack thereof).

We must train our spiritual muscles to rest on Truth in our relationships with the Lord, not on emotions; for the mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace (Romans 8:6), and knowing these things, blessed are we if we do them (John 13:17). We are new creations; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new (2 Corinthians 5:17); therefore we have the power to not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of our minds (Romans 12:2).

Lesson 2: Still Waters Can Lead To Death

I have a pet bunny called Joel (cutest little guy) who lives in my room (don’t worry, before you start saying ‘eww’; – I’m very clean and my room is usually very tidy), and I often think about what little visual stimulation he receives on an average day compared to me. As I walk the streets of London daily, my eyes are exposed to colours and shapes, while he stays loafing around in my room eagerly awaiting the moment when dad comes home so he can eat and play (mostly eat).

Sailing the Still Waters – as tranquil and peaceful as it is, does the same to us as Joel staying in my room all day; we are not stimulated – whether by sight, sound, smell or touch. Before long, the sight of the blue ocean and blue sky becomes repetitive, and we can develop a numbness to the season we’re in.

If we do not choose to involve God in our everyday lives during that season, Idleness can creep in; an ungodly lifestyle that the Lord condemns.

“Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise! It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest. How long will you lie there, you sluggard? When will you get up from your sleep? A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest — and poverty will come on you like a thief and scarcity like an armed man.” Proverbs 6:6-11

In my case, it crawled ever so sneakily, reintroducing me to an old abusive friend; Lust, and Lust as is her nature, suffocated me (James 1:15).

For some of us, shame is not enough to help gear us back into the arms of the Father when we have succumbed to an ungodly life, numbing us from the neck down. We choose to believe the enemy’s guilt over the Holy Spirit’s conviction. It took a moment of complete helplessness, realising that though I had given myself to the world, the world would never be loyal to me, for me to comprehend what Jimmy Needham is saying in the clip below;

“Flee also youthful lusts; but pursue righteousness, faith, love, peace with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart.“

1 Timothy 2:22

“I have seen impure souls crazed for physical love; but when these same souls have made this grounds for repentance, as a result of their experience of sexual love they have transferred the same eros to the Lord, They have immediately gone beyond all fear and been spurred to insatiable love for God. This is why the Lord said to the chaste harlot not that she had feared, but that she had loved much, and was readily able to repel eros through eros…

Let them take courage who are humbled by their passions. For even if they fall into every pit and are caught in every snare, when they attain health they will become healers, luminaries, beacons and guides to all, teaching about the forms of every sickness and through their own experience saving those who are about to fall.”

St. John Climacus

Lesson 3: Still Waters Lead To New Rivers

When you give the Lord authority to lead the way, to set sail, you feel immense peace and assurance in His will, even if you have not yet reached your destination.

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord himself, is the Rock eternal.” Isaiah 26:3-4

It’s the casting of the net, when there is surely no fish in the sea. (Luke 5:4)
It’s purposely going into battle with 300 men, instead of 32,000. (Judges 7:7)
It’s the sacrificing of your only son, because God told you so. (Genesis 22:10)

Only now am I beginning to understand lyrics of a song I had heard so often; “‘Cause learning how to love, is learning how to lose”. How true it is, the mystery of losing oneself in Christ, to find oneself.

Chris August sings “I gotta find You, if I wanna find me”… the same melody the Psalmist had long spoken of when he wrote “I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love forever and ever ” Psalm 52:8, finding himself in His Saviour and Creator.

The beauty of submission, is though I do not know what is beyond The Still Waters, I remain hopeful and unshaken as I am rooted in Him.

The Still Waters are a blessing; a season to enjoy a pure, undefiled, real Love with my King. A chance to grow and to practice putting on the armour of God in preparation for my next trial; whether it be another storm, an earthquake or a fire. A season of open dialogue with The Word, to be corrected and refined.

It is the recognition that I can grow in love with Jesus on the journey, not just at the destination.

May you see The Lord in your Still Waters.

Exodus 16:3

The Greek word ‘peirasmos’ means both a trial and a tempation. The fathers of the church used them interchangeably and I am beginning to understand why.

When everything turns out to be nothing like you expected, its is much easier to despair, to fall into self pity, and to ignore God, in favour of getting lost in a never ending introspection.

When it feels like I’m stumbling around in the dark wilderness and the thistles are scratching at my feet, when even walking becomes difficult and the narrow road just seems too hard. Like Gomer, who cried out for the old oil and drink she once had, and the Israelites who cried out for the meat of Egypt.

I was tempted to take a sip of the soothing ointment of the world, that I know to be poison.

‘I will go after my lovers, who give me my food and my water, my wool and my linen, my olive oil and my drink.’

Hosea 2:5

Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians’? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!”

Exodus 14:12

For the first time, I am realising why in the midst of Job and his friends talking about suffering and God Job stands and promises to make a covenant with his eyes not to look upon a woman. For as many times I had read Job, I had never noticed how misplaced that seemed… until it was too familiar to ignore.

Maybe I was never listening when they said in times of tribulation, you must be even more vigilant for temptation.

Distracted by the walls of my city crumbling, my own house has been left unguarded.

‘Your own vineyard you have not kept’.

Songs of Solomon 1:6

Oh heart you have forgotten that the only real danger in this world is sin.

“For I have not stopped saying and I will not stop saying that there is only one thing truly distressing, and that is sin. Everything else is dust and smoke.”

St John Chrysostom

Maybe it’s one of the devils favourite games to keep us wrapped up in our own problems that we forget to ask… When I am squeezed, what is coming out? When I am squeezed… I am no longer deceived. Sweet lemonade or bitter lemon?

I am realising that for years I was saying words, words that were so easy to say. But now I am being called to live. To put into practice the endless preaching. In time, perhaps I will learn to say with Moses that these words are ‘not just idle for you, they are life’ (Deuteronomy 32:47) and by them I will cross over into the Jordan. I will cross over to new heights I know He wants to take me.

In the mean time, I am struggling through the labour pains, I am so anxious to give birth to something beautiful, but I must learn to wait patiently and know that in an INSTANT, God is able to do exceedingly abundantly more than I could pray and ask for.

“stop beseeching this or that person for help, and running after shadows – for this is what human assistance amounts to – instead ceaselessly beseech God whom you serve simply to give a nod and in a moment of time everything is brought into proper order” St John Chrysostom

Now if, while a man is walking in the path of righteousness, and is making his way toward God… he encounters in this path some afflictions of this sort, he must not turn aside from his way. Rather, he should accept whatever it is joyously, without scrutiny, and give thanks to God, because God has sent him this gift. That is to say, because he has been deemed worthy to fall into temptation for His sake, and to become a partaker of the sufferings of the prophets and the apostles, and of the rest of the saints who endured tribulations for the sake of God’s path, whether from men, from demons, or from the body. For without the bidding of God it is impossible that tribulations should be permitted to arise; but they occur so as to be for a man the cause of righteousness -St Isaac the Syrian

for it is not God’s good pleasures that those whom He loves should live in ease while they are in the flesh -St Isaac the Syrian

Hear and be comforted, beloved, how merciful is God. To the sinful woman He forgave her offenses; yea, He upheld her when she was afflicted. With clay He opened the eyes of the blind, so that the eyeballs beheld the light. To the palsied He granted healing, who arose and walked and carried his bed. And to us He has given the pearls; His holy Body and Blood. He brought His medicines secretly; and with them He heals openly. And He wandered round in the land of Judea, like a physician, bearing his medicines. Simon invited Him to the feast, to eat bread in his house. The sinful woman rejoiced when she heard that He sat and was feasting in Simon’s house; her thoughts gathered together like the sea, and like the billows her love surged. She beheld the Sea of Grace, how it had forced itself into one place; and she resolved to go and drown all her wickedness in its billows.

She bound her heart, because it had offended, with chains and tears of suffering; and she began weeping (with herself): What avails me this fornication? What avails this lewdness? I have defiled the innocent ones without shame; I have corrupted the orphan; and without fear I have robbed the merchants of merchandise, and my rapacity was not satisfied. I have been as a bow in war, and have slain the good and the bad. I have been as a storm on the sea, and have sunk the ships of many. Why did I not win me one man, who might have corrected my lewdness? For one man is of God, but many are of Satan.

These things she inwardly said; then began she to do outwardly. She washed and put away from her eyes the dye that blinded them that saw it. And tears gushed forth from her eyes over that deadly eyepaint. She drew off and cast from her hands the enticing bracelets of her youth. She put off and cast away from her body the tunic of fine linen of whoredom, and resolved to go and attire herself in the tunic the garment of reconciliation. She drew off and cast from her feet the adorned sandals of lewdness; and directed the steps of her going in the path of the heavenly Eagle. She took up her gold in her palm and held it up to the face of heaven, and began to cry secretly, to Him who hears openly: This, O Lord, that I have gained from iniquity, with it will I purchase to myself redemption. This which was gathered from orphans, with it will I win the Lord of orphans.

These things she said secretly; then began to do openly. She took up the gold in her palm, and carried the alabaster box in her hands. Then hastily went she forth in sadness to the perfumer. The perfumer saw her and wondered, and fell into questioning with her; and thus he began to say to the harlot in the first words he spoke: Was it not enough for you, harlot, that you have corrupted all our town? What means this fashion that you show today to your lovers— that you have put off your wantonness and hast clothed yourself in modesty? Heretofore, when you came to me, your aspect was different from today’s. You were clothed in goodly raiment, and brought little gold; and asked for precious ointment, to make your lewdness pleasant. But lo! Today your vesture is mean, and you have brought much gold. Your change I understand not; wherefore is this fashion of yours? Either clothe you in raiment according to your ability, or buy ointment according to your clothing. For this ointment becomes not or is suited to this attire. Can it be that a merchant has met you, and brings great wealth; and you have seen that he loves it not, the fashion of your lewdness? So you have put off your lewdness and hast clothed yourself in meekness, that by various fashions you may capture much wealth. But if he loves this fashion because he is a chaste man in truth, then woe to him! Into what has he fallen? Into a gulf that has swallowed up his merchandise. But I give you advice, as a man that desires your welfare, that you send away your many lovers who have helped you nought from your youth, and henceforth seek out one husband who may correct your lewdness.

These things spoke the perfumer, in wisdom, to the harlot. The sinful woman answered and said to him, to the perfumer after his discourse, Hinder me not, O man, and stop me not by your questioning. I have asked of you ointment, not freely, but I will pay you its value not grudgingly. Take you the gold, as much as you demand, and give me the precious ointment; take you that which endures not and give me that which endures; and I will go to Him who endures, and will buy that which endures. And as to that you said, about a merchant; a Man has met me today Who bears riches in abundance. He has robbed me and I have robbed Him; He has robbed me of my transgressions and sins, and I have robbed Him of His wealth. And as to that you said of a husband; I have won me a Husband in heaven, Whose dominion stands for ever, and His kingdom shall not be dissolved. She took up the ointment and went forth.

In haste went she forth; as Satan saw her and was enraged; and was greatly grieved in his mind. At one time he rejoiced, and again at another he was grieved. That she carried the perfumed oil, he rejoiced in his inward mind; but that she was clad in mean raiment— at this doing of hers he was afraid. He clave then to her and followed her, as a robber follows a merchant. He listened to the murmurs of her lips, to hear the voice of her words. He closely watched her eyeballs (to mark) whither the glance of her eyes was directed; and as he went he moved by her feet (to mark) whither her goings were directed. Very full of craft is Satan, from our words to learn our aim. Therefore our Lord has taught us not to raise our voice when we pray, that the Devil may not hear our words and draw near and become our adversary. So then, when Satan saw that he could not change her mind, he clothed himself in the fashion of a man, and drew to himself a crowd of youths, like her lovers of former times; and then began he thus to address her: By your life, O woman, tell me whither are your footsteps directed? What means this haste? For you hastes more than other days. What means this your meekness, for your soul is meek like a handmaid’s? Instead of garments of fine linen, lo! You are clothed in sordid weeds; instead of bracelets of gold and silver, there are not even rings on your fingers; instead of goodly sandals for your feet, not even worn shoes are on your feet. Disclose to me all your doing, for I understand not your change. Is it that some one of your lovers has died, and you go to bury him? We will go with you to the funeral, and with you will (take part with you) in sorrow.

The sinful woman answered and said to him, (even) to Satan, after his speech: Well have you said that I go to inter the dead, one that has died to me. The sin of my thoughts has died, and I go to bury it. Satan answered and said to her, (even) to the sinful woman after her words: Go to, O woman, I tell you that I am the first of your lovers. I am not such as you, and I place my hands upon you. I will give you again more gold than before.

The sinful woman answered and said to him, even to Satan after his discourse: I am wearied of you, O man, and you are no more my lover. I have won me a husband in heaven, Who is God, that is over all, and His dominion stands for ever, and His kingdom shall not be dissolved. For lo! In your presence I say; I say it again and I lie not. I was a handmaid to Satan from my childhood unto this day. I was a bridge, and he trode upon me, and I destroyed thousands of men. The eyepaint blinded my eyes, and (I was) blind among many whom I blinded. I became sightless and knew not that there is One Who gives light to the sightless. Lo! I go to get light for my eyes, and by that light to give light to many. I was fast bound, and knew not that there is One Who overthrows idols. Lo! I go to have my idols destroyed, and so to destroy the follies of many. I was wounded and knew not that there is One Who binds up wounds; and lo! I go to have my wounds bound. These things the harlot spoke to Satan in her wisdom; and he groaned and was grieved and wept; and he cried aloud and thus he spoke:— I am conquered by you, O woman, and what I shall do I know not.

As soon as Satan perceived that he could not change her mind, he began to weep for himself and thus it was that he spoke: Henceforth is my boasting perished, and the pride of all my days. How shall I lay for her a snare, for her who is ascending on high? How shall I shoot arrows at her, (even) at her whose wall is unshaken? Therefore I go into Jesus’ presence; lo! she is about to enter His presence; and I shall say to Him thus: This woman is an harlot. Perchance He may reject and not receive her. And I shall say to Him thus: This woman who comes into Your presence is a woman that is an harlot. She has led captive men by her whoredom; she is polluted from her youth. But You, O Lord, are righteous; all men throng to see You. And if mankind see You that You have speech with the harlot, they all will flee from Your presence, and no man will salute You.

These things Satan spoke within himself, nor was he moved. Then he changed the course of his thought, and thus it was that he spoke. How shall I enter into Jesus’ presence, for to Him the secret things are manifest? He knows me, who I am, that no good office is my purpose. If haply He rebuke me I am undone, and all my wiles will be wasted. I will go to the house of Simon, for secret things are not manifest to him. And into his heart I will put it; perchance on that hook he may be caught. And thus will I say unto him: By your life, O Simon, tell me; this man that sojourns in your house is he a man that is righteous, or a friend of the doers of wickedness? I am a wealthy man, and a man that has possessions, and I wish like you to invite him that he may come in and bless my possessions.

Simon answered and thus he said to the Evil One after his words: From the day that (first) I saw Him I have seen no lewdness in Him, but rather quietness and peace, humility and seemliness. The sick He heals without reward, the diseased He freely cures. He approaches and stands by the grave, and calls, and the dead arise. Jairus called Him to raise his daughter to life, trusting that He could raise her to life. And as He went with him in the way, He gave healing to the woman diseased, who laid hold of the hem of His garment and stole healing from Him, and her pain which was hard and bitter at once departed from her. He went forth to the desert and saw the hungry, how they were fainting with famine. He made them sit down on the grass, and fed them in His mercy. In the ship He slept as He willed, and the sea swelled against the disciples. He arose and rebuked the billows, and there was a great calm. The widow, the desolate one who was following her only son, on the way to the grave He consoled her. He gave him to her and gladdened her heart. To one man who was dumb and blind, by His voice He brought healing. The lepers He cleansed by His word; to the limbs of the palsied He restored strength. For the blind man, afflicted and weary, He opened his eyes and he saw the light. And for two others who besought Him, at once He opened their eyes. As for me, thus have I heard the fame of the man from afar; and I called Him to bless my possessions, and to bless all my flocks and herds.

Satan answered and said to him, to Simon after his words: Praise not a man at his beginning, until you learn his end; hitherto this man is sober and his soul takes not pleasure in wine. If he shall go forth from your house, and holds not converse with an harlot, then he is a righteous man and no friend of them that do wickedness. Such things did Satan speak in his craftiness to Simon. Then he approached and stood afar off, to see what should come to pass.

The sinful woman full of transgressions stood clinging by the door. She clasped her arms in prayer, and thus she spoke beseeching:— Blessed Son Who hast descended to earth for the sake of man’s redemption, close not Your door in my face; for You have called me and lo! I come. I know that You have not rejected me; open for me the door of Your mercy, that I may come in, O my Lord, and find refuge in You, from the Evil One and his hosts! I was a sparrow, and the hawk pursued me, and I have fled and taken refuge in Your nest. I was a heifer, and the yoke galled me, and I will turn back my wanderings to You. Lay upon me the shoulder of Your yoke that I may take it on me, and work with Your oxen. Thus did the harlot speak at the door with much weeping. The master of the house looked and saw her, and the colour of his visage was changed; and he began thus to address her, (even) the harlot, in the opening of his words:— Depart hence, O harlot, for this man who abides in our house is a man that is righteous, and they that are of his companions are blameless. Is it not enough for you, harlot, that you have corrupted the whole town? You have corrupted the chaste without shame; you have robbed the orphans, and have not blushed, and have plundered the merchants’ wares, and your countenance is not abashed. From him your heart [and soul] labour [to take]. But from him your net takes no spoil. For this man is righteous indeed, and they of his company are blameless.

The sinful woman answered and said to him, even to Simon when he had ceased: You surely are the guardian of the door, O you that know things that are secret! I will propose the matter in the feast, and you shall be free from blame. And if there be any that wills me to come in, he will bid me and I will come in. Simon ran and closed the door, and approached and stood afar off. And he tarried a long time and proposed not the matter in the feast. But He, Who knows what is secret, beckoned to Simon and said to him:— Come hither, Simon, I bid you; does any one stand at the door? Whosoever he be, open to him that he may come in; let him receive what he needs, and go. If he be hungry and hunger for bread, lo! In your house is the table of life; and if he be thirsty, and thirst for water, lo! The blessed fountain is in your dwelling. And if he be sick and ask for healing, lo! The great Physician is in your house. Allow sinners to look upon Me, for their sakes have I abased Myself. I will not ascend to heaven, to the dwelling whence I came down, until I bear back the sheep that has wandered from its Father’s house, and lift it up on My shoulders and bear it aloft to heaven. Simon answered and thus he said to Jesus, when He had done speaking:— My Lord, this woman that stands in the doorway is a harlot: she is lewd and not free-born, polluted from her childhood. And You, my Lord, are a righteous man, and all are eager to see You; and if men see You having speech with the harlot, all men will flee from beside You, and no man will salute You. Jesus answered, and thus He said to Simon when he was done speaking:— Whosoever it be, open for him to come in, and you shall be free from blame; and though his offenses be many, without rebuke I bid you [receive him].

Simon approached and opened the door, and began thus to speak:— Come, enter, fulfil that you will, to him who is even as you. The sinful woman, full of transgressions, passed forward and stood by His feet, and clasped her arms in prayer, and with these words she spoke:— My eyes have become watercourses that cease not from [watering] the fields, and today they wash the feet of Him Who follows after sinners. This hair, abundant in locks from my childhood till this day, let it not grieve You that it should wipe this holy body. The mouth that has kissed the lewd, forbid it not to kiss the body that remits transgressions and sins. These things the harlot spoke to Jesus, with much weeping. And Simon stood afar off to see what He would do to her. But He Who knows the things that are secret, beckoned to Simon and said to him:— Lo! I will tell you, O Simon, what your meditation is, concerning the harlot. Within your mind you imagine and within your soul you said, ‘I have called this man righteous, but lo! The harlot kisses Him. I have called Him to bless my possessions, and lo! The harlot embraces Him.’ O Simon, there were two debtors, whose creditor was one only; one owed him five-hundred [pence], and the other owed fifty. And when the creditor saw that neither of these two had anything, the creditor pardoned and forgave them both their debt. Which of them ought to render the greater thanks? He who was forgiven five hundred, or he who was forgiven fifty? Simon answered, and thus he said to Jesus, when He had done speaking:— He who was forgiven five hundred ought to render the greater thanks. Jesus answered and thus He said: You are he that owes five hundred, and this woman owes fifty. Lo! I came into your house, O Simon; and water for My feet you brought not; and this woman, of whom you said that she was an harlot, one from her childhood defiled, has washed My feet with her tears, and with her hair she has wiped them. Ought I to send her away, O Simon, without receiving forgiveness? Verily, verily, I say unto you, I will write of her in the Gospel. Go, O woman, your sins are forgiven you and all your transgression is covered; henceforth and to the end of the world.

May our Lord account us worthy of hearing this word of His:— Come, enter, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom made ready for all who shall do My will, and observe all My commandments. To Him be glory; on us be mercy; at all times. Amen! Amen!

Source of original posting

I retell the story once written of a woman caught in her weakness. A tale of piercing words and stones clenched in fists. Yet, there is a Man who bends low, speaks:

“He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first.” John 8:7

Stones fall like rain to the ground, every voice is silenced. My sweet sister falls too to the ground, and Mama says, “the Word has pierced her, she is humbling herself.”

“Neither do I accuse you, go and sin no more.” John 8:11

Sister wipes her tears in her shirt, cries,

“But I can’t change. I sleep with so many men. I’m 30 and I can’t have one man. My Father and mother don’t believe I can change, they call me a drunkard. So I just drink.”

We hold her close, speak softly: “we are your family, and we believe in you.”

“Really?” She stares at us, wide-eyed, in disbelief. “But how can I change, I drink. I don’t know how.”

“His power is your strength.

You are worthy.

You are loved.”

Wise Mama speaks to her of Paul on the road to Damascus, tells her the truth that no one is ever too far from grace, that there is no such thing as a lost cause.

“Nifuna, Nifuna, Nifuna” (I want, I want, I want), she pleads.

We hold hands in prayer, pleading for every chain and stronghold to break.

I marvel at the God who does not count our sin, only the number of hairs on our head. I marvel at the abundance of that love.

Sometimes those who are serving God become the hopeless, wishing that those whom they serve could change, but lacking the belief that they can actually change. Perhaps most people, if not all, have a list of “lost causes.” But maybe there is power in the faith of friends who believe in His power. Maybe hope for the hopeless starts right here, with us, when we pursue the wholeness of others by believing in the wholeness of others. Maybe our belief is everything; maybe our faith is more potent than we ever imagined. Like the paralytic man who’s healing came when his friends insisted to lay him before Christ.

When He saw their faith, He said to him, “Man, your sins are forgiven you.” Luke 5:20

Because a roof was no hindrance when the “power of the Lord was present to heal them.” (Luke 5:17) Maybe breaking rooftops is our call, and maybe the hardest rooftop to break through is our own disbelief. What if hope for the hopeless looks like a man weeping and praying in faith before a holy God on behalf of an unfaithful nation (Ezra 9), until the power of God is displayed through their repentance (Ezra 10)?

What if those around us, who are in need of change, never changed because we never faithfully believed and prayed that they could?

What if we prayed for others, genuinely believing in Gods power?

Sweet sister comes the next evening for prayers, runs up to the altar weeping on her knees. Maybe our faith in Him on behalf of others is the most we really have to offer, maybe He is more powerful than we have ever known…

Let me tell you a simple tale of a man who endured unparalleled pain, and prevailed. Listen, as I share with you the story of he who lost it all, to gain everything.

I recently met up with an old friend and we reminisced over painful events in the past, sharing the ways in which God had helped us to cope with them. As he vulnerably opened up to me, I couldn’t help but notice the intricate works of the Lord throughout his life that had led him to the solid ground he stood on today.

This friend of mine had lost his mother at a very young age and was brought up in a broken home; with very dysfunctional relationships with his siblings. As he shared with me his hopes and dreams as a child, I could see the pain those memories held in his eyes. I sat in the corner of Starbucks repeatedly listening to stories of parental favouritism, negligence from his siblings and emotional abuse, and though my heart ached, I ate up every word he said, eagerly awaiting the revelation of a key to life that I was certain he must have discovered to have become the mighty man he is today.
As he reached the climax of every story he shared with me, a smirk would appear on his face, and after five or six times, I knew exactly what that smirk meant. A big plot twist would ravage the story, and the season of joy or success he would be experiencing, somehow – almost frustratingly – would spiral downwards in an uncontrollably fast way. I’m not going to lie, being the impulsive person I am, his calm demeanor as he spoke began to stress me out, even though none of his past struggles had anything to do with me! I guess I wanted to see the anger and bitterness that had been brewing within him, but to my utter surprise none of that was to be revealed – not because of any wall he may have been putting up, but because there was none.

Friends, believe me when I tell you that evening I heard stories of child abuse, wrongful accusations and consequently wrongful punishments. Stories of deception that would send chills down the coldest spines. Yet this man, with the darkest past, exuded nothing but peace. With the warmest smile, he looked at me in the eyes and said “whatever bad things have happened to me in the past, God has used for good in my life today¹”. Just like that. No complaining, no anger, no self-pity… just the deep revelation that God had used his past seasons of pain for his present joy.

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Isaiah 43:18-19

As he spoke these simple of words of truth, He who dwells within me began to whisper the words He had inspired St. Paul to write to the Philippians; “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:12-13. My friend had truly known what it meant to be in need – in need of money, respect, justice, and love, and he breathed this revelation; that true contentment in every situation can only be achieved through Him who gives you strength. Strength to endure the unendurable. He recognised that apart from His Saviour he could accomplish nothing², “and that, Michael, is why I feel free” he told me simply, with a joyful smile, as if the Holy Spirit had bathed him in peace and liberty.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”
John 15:5

This wise man that sat before me at our small two-seater table in Starbucks in Westfield Shopping Centre had figured it out. He’d given me the key to life that I desperately wanted to learn from him. He had come to the revelation that seasons change but the Lord God Almighty forever remains the same³. A revelation that gifted him with tremendous confidence in His Maker, confidence during painful seasons that though he stood helpless before great mountains, His Saviour is and will forever be able to turn them into level ground⁴ for him to walk through to greener pastures.
As our conversation came to an end, my friend looked at me one more time, and humbly said “…and you know the best part about all this? It’s blessed my present and made me forget all about my past.^5″.

Those were the simple words spoken by a simple man who lived a great life, and his words rung ever so loudly in my ears. A man who had tasted what it meant to be in need and to have plenty. A man who recognised that apart from His Creator he could do nothing, but through Him could do all things. A man who, with ease, embraced seasons past, recognising that they led him to where he stood today.

If you want to meet my friend, find him in Genesis 37-50.
His name, is Joseph.

And the cutting winds that blew violently, hushed. The roaring waves that crashed ferociously, silenced. The devastated earth that was shaken, became still. A New Season had begun…

[1] Genesis 50:20
[2] Genesis 41:16
[3] Malachi 3:6
[4] Zechariah 4:6-7
[5] Genesis 41:51-52

When the doctor’s asked what surgery she’d had and she said with a smile that she didn’t want to talk about it, alarm bells rang like the sirens that came after her 911 call.

The doctor pushed through her silence and it shattered with the words ‘I was raped and I had an abortion.’
I felt like I had forgotten how to breathe for a moment… or the girl who had an asthma attack this morning in the clinic had stolen all the oxygen… her mother didn’t care enough to keep it controlled.

They call this place ‘the holy city’ because it’s where all the gang lines meet. And it felt like holy ground but ground that I didn’t know how to walk on. Ground that was so hot with the fire of the Holy Spirit that it was burning my feet. I watched a giggling 13 year old girl with a secret turn into a broken woman.

I tried to catch her eye in our silence. My small offering in the midst of the ashes.

They taught us at medical school that it was more about checklists than listening to stories. Everyone has a story, one we will never know if we never ask. In a culture of noise and talking, we must learn to rearrange the letters of the word ‘listen’ and make them spell ‘silent,’ because sometimes there are no words worthy of the pain. When silence is all we have to give, let us learn to sit in it. Let us recognize our calling to lament and weep with those who weep like Jesus wept for Lazarus. Let us avoid loving at a distance and learn to love like a neighbour. As Christians we must choose to challenge ourselves and take a fresh look at the notion of ‘professional detachment.’ We must realise that detachment is devoid of the connection that fosters healing. What if, with discernment, we chose to be IN the suffering instead of being on the outside looking in?

They told us at medical school to detach from other people’s pain in case we catch it like an infectious disease. But there is a pain I have coddled up to and I am intent on catching because maybe it feels like we cheat the world when we don’t share in its pain just like Christ shares in ours.

Beyond prescribing and note taking we are called to be ministers of reconciliation, using the sword of the spirit to cut down the barriers that commonly divide us; so that a privileged girl with a thick British accent can take the hand of an African American girl from the ghetto and call her sister.

“All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation;  that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation.  Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.”  (2 Corinthians 5:18-20)

After all of this, I am still left with the questions; How can I be a ‘christian health care provider,’ how can I be a good physician? We joke that health care providers can have ‘God complex’ – aloofness combined with blithe confidence in their powers; if that is the definition then the God being imitated is not that of the Gospels. So one thing I know is that we need doctors and caregivers who do what Jesus does, who can be present, trust in God and lament when the suffering remains.

‘Jesus wept.’
John 11:35

Sometimes we think that we are in need of a perfect home with everything neatly in place to show hospitality. And sometimes we think we need a perfect heart that has it all together to invite someone in and build that home. But there are homes we build with our friends not with hands but with conversations of openness and honesty, with the comfort to be as we are, who we are, where we are now. With all our sins and struggles and all our questions and doubts. Sharing death and grief, sex and desire, our needs, deepest inadequacies and regrets. We uncover the demolition in our hearts, unafraid of displaying the rubble, unafraid of leaving the keys to the doors we’ve always locked for someone else to walk in. In the face of each other’s rubble, there is no space for judgement, only the realisation that we all stand on the same levelled ground, a holy ground, where our pain and our struggles are communally felt, without measure, without degrees. Hospitality is the fearlessness to offer others a key into your warzone, and the fearlessness to choose to be present with another.

Many of us were raised strictly associating spiritual growth with the attendance of bible studies, worship evenings, quiet time and locking our bedroom doors in prayer. But there is spiritual growth at 2am at the back of a pickup truck, with seven hearts drawn in laughter and in love. There is growth in 6am swims through the river and in sharing water shoes when the rocks become too harsh beneath your feet. There is growth in conversations over eggs benedict and in sharing the words of people who have previously hurt and condemned us, and the relationships that have left us feeling less than who we were. There is growth in reconnecting with old friends and learning the hearts of new ones, because where there are people, there is God, and that is where we grow and self discover. There is growth in the daily victory of waking up and trying, trying, and trying again. There is growth in struggling through loss to believe that God is good, and there is also growth in firmly believing through the tragedy that God is good.

When we let God out of the man-made spiritual boxes we have created, we need not look far or deep or wide to see His face, but to the heart next to us to realise that He is here. For long we have found Him in foreign mission fields and in retreats, yet now we are awakened to find Him in His people, the church, the home that is built without hands.

After years of living under the weight of expectations and who we “should” be, many of us have locked so many doors of our hearts away for the fear of being known, for fear of being perceived as not spiritual, as not a man or woman of God. When we have tasted the condemnation of a community, that labels and silences us, our fears can only be rational and our walk becomes heavy. We were never called to pretend a false state of perfection. We were created in the image of Community for community. A community that is real, that moves from individualism to a place where we can reach out and ask why we’re created in a fallen world or why it’s so hard to hear God’s voice sometimes.

We all naturally gravitate to the community that will accept us for all we bring to the table, so we find ourselves projecting the finished product of ourselves that we believe our community desires so that we can find our home. All the while we live with the fear of truly being known and found out. We live in fear that one day someone will tear down the door to our demolition and see the truth; to see our addictions and the tears that keep us up at night. But Christ was always interested in the real authentic version of ourselves. Christ was never interested in the finished product more than he was in our journey to wholeness. And community was only ever meant to be a place without fear. A place where all we ask is to see with loving eyes, instead of with defense or judgment, the person before us. All of the wonder, grace and godliness lying in the demolition that is yet to be restored. We hope in the yet to come but we love and live the now of each other – no matter how much is taken apart. Hospitality is loving without the need to put it all back together. And hospitality never demands an invite. It waits, it loves, it is patient.

To our friends on that August summer night, we are eternally grateful for your stories.

“Maybe we’re all just shiny balls of light inside human machines.

Maybe we’re all trying desperately to convince others that the noise they hear coming out of our mouths is an accurate reflection of the intentions of the shiny ball of light inside the machine.

Maybe it screams,

“I am real in here, I am real in here, I am real here.”

Maybe the light inside me just wants to know, if you’re real too.”

-Iain Thomas

Co-written with Makrina

This is a guest post by a dear BFA friend and past contributor Sara Malak.

One of the things the world ingrains in us as we grow up is that we must be afraid -mostly of the future and everything in it. We hear “strive to be the best! Be as successful as you possibly can be under any circumstances!” That way we don’t have to worry about failure (the fear of all fears!) So we grow up with a million and one shields protecting us from anything and everything. We knock down those who are not as armed as we are and trample on those who are silly enough to walk unshielded. Instead of living as creatures created for the kingdom of heaven, we live by the rules of the animal kingdom.

But maybe this is why our communities, friendships, churches, and families are hurting.

As persons made in the image of the triune God, we long for intimacy and connection. But these walls we build for ourselves harm us by distorting our true identity. We have become so accustomed to striving to be the best that we refuse and deny ourselves to be anything less than that. We build walls so high as if our brothers and sisters are Greek enemies threatening to invade our glorious city, Troy. But sometimes these walls go so high that we can barely see what lies beneath them. Whether that’s on purpose or not, we end up hiding a bruised, swollen, and inflamed wound that continues to bleed.

Christ calls, “Adam where are you?” We may be hiding in shame and fear but Christ has not left us; He left His throne and became human so He could sit with us in our pain and tell us “be of good cheer I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). By taking part in His death we receive His victory. There is nothing to fear, not even death. The Church awaits the coming of the Lord earnestly and peacefully, we are taught to die to the old man that we may live forever. As we pray in Vespers in the litany of the departed, “there is no death to your servants but rather a departure.”

To take a step and “dare greatly” as Dr Brene Brown puts it, I would like to invite you to take the first brick down of your walls of protection, while I do the same. Let us take a step in crucifying our ego to become who we are created to be. Opening ourselves to Christ in humility, vulnerability, and love. Placing our heavy burdens at His feet when it is easier numb the pain.

C.S. Lewis writes:

When we assent with all our will to be so known, then we treat ourselves, in relation to God, not as things but as persons. We have unveiled. Not that any veil could have baffled His sight. The change is in us. Instead of merely being known, we show, we tell, we offer ourselves to view… By unveiling, by confessing our sins and “making known” our requests, we assume the high rank of persons before Him. And He descending becomes a Person to us.

Let us come and sit with our precious Christ. Allow yourself to unveil, to be the Samaritan woman sitting with the Man who met her where she went to quench her thirst for connection and intimacy. She sat with the all knowing, all powerful, all loving God, but His authority does not intimidate, it invites, and His words don’t condemn or belittle, they call upward.

Ask the Samaritan woman, she’ll tell you about a Man who told her all things she’s ever done yet didn’t define her accordingly. She’ll tell you about a Man who praised her honesty when she was trying to hide her shame in a few words. She’ll tell you how gentle He was when she desired to open up to Him. She’ll tell you about a Man who looked her in the eyes and loved her while everyone else looked down at her. She’ll tell you how all her life she’d been shielding and arming herself yet in a few moments stripped herself naked to be clothed in Truth. She’ll tell you how liberated she felt the moment Someone finally knew the shame, darkness and sins she carried yet loved her more than she’s ever been loved before.

No wonder she ran telling people to “come and see a man who told her all things she’d ever done” it’s not like they didn’t know, but now she was willing to reveal herself to her community knowing her worthiness and true identity.

Self revelation or self-awareness alone is not sufficient, I may not trust my distorted view of things but in the light of Christ, I am able to separate the truth of who I am from the lies I have been told about myself. Only in the face of Truth can we claim our true identity. It is this assurance and full faith that granted the Samaritan woman courage to see her darkness and still be able to claim her worthiness, acceptance and belonging in communal intimacy with Christ and then her community. In the light of Christ, our struggles, weaknesses and sins do not shame us or define who who we are but prove how lovable we are.

Hiding oneself from God creates an invisible disease that not only divides our communities, churches and families but also leaves us emptier than ever. Christ prayed “that they may be one as We are one,” while He embraced and exposed His humanity in tears and blood. If oneness comes by self-revelation that requires a great deal of honesty and authenticity, so let us start by being honest with ourselves and with our God until we are courageous enough to be so within our communities.

Now, therefore, you are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, having been built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner stone, in whom the whole building, being fitted together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord (Ephesians 2:19-21).

Well, He’s dead.

In the end, they took Him and nailed him to a cross, watched Him suffocate under the weight of His own body, and then stabbed Him to make sure He was dead. Then everything seemed to go mad; the Veil of the Temple split down the middle, blasphemously revealing the Holy of Holies. The earth started shaking and the ancient dead burst from their tombs, as though strolling around Jerusalem was the most natural thing in the world after a thousand years of bodily decay. They say that if you put your ear to the ground, you can hear the whole netherworld beginning to creak and shudder; the dead are waking up, and the Devil is screaming.

It all seems a lot of fuss for one dead man. You can see Him there, moving down the path toward His tomb. He’s the bleeding bundle of cloth at the front of the group. The man holding His feet is Nicodemus; one of the wealthiest men in Jerusalem. The man holding His shoulders is Joseph of Arimathea. They’re both religious types — they’re even on an important religious council called the Sanhedrin, with sixty-nine other extremely religious men, which would definitely make them two of the seventy-one most religious men in Jerusalem.

That woman behind them, the one who can’t seem to stop crying, is called Mary. She comes from Magdala, and unlike Joseph and Nicodemus, she is not the religious type. We don’t know much about her, but we do know that when she first met her Teacher, her body was home to no less than seven spiritual parasites. They were old, terrible creatures who fed off her misery and desperation. Back then, she had had plentiful stores of both, though we don’t know precisely why. Perhaps she had done terrible things. Perhaps terrible things had been done to her. Perhaps a bit of both. At any rate, she was not what anyone would call a “pillar of respectability,” and it hadn’t helped her Teacher’s reputation to have her hanging around. But He was the one who freed her. All seven of her demonic tormentors had screamed and fled when He came along, and they never came back. Since then, she has followed Him; and she follows even now, when all that’s left to follow is a bleeding corpse.

There are others walking with them, following the blood-soaked bundle that was their Teacher. There are a couple of Mary’s present (but not the famous one), Salome, Joanna and Susanna.

Surprisingly, you are present too.

You’re part of your own procession, a larger one, invisibly leading Joseph, Nicodemus and their bloody bundle of linen towards the tomb. Your procession is headed by golden crosses on poles and at the very back, just in front of Joseph and Nicodemus, men are carrying icons of Jesus’ burial and crucifixion, being censed by bearded priests wearing golden cloaks. Although there are more people in your procession than in the ancient one behind you, yours is a good deal less serious. Where Joseph and the Mary’s are burying a brutally murdered Friend, you are attending a religious festival. The atmosphere is solemn enough, what with the icons and the incense and gold crosses on poles, but in your procession people are distracted, occasionally chatting to one another, making quick remarks about Uncle So-and-So’s chanting voice and what they’re going to eat once the service is over. They’re tired because they’ve been in Church for nine hours. Mary, Joseph and Nicodemus are tired because they’ve just spent nine hours watching their Friend asphyxiate and bleed to death.

And so the two processions make their way slowly to a new tomb in a garden; one decked in white and gold, the other wet with tears and blood. You seem to be in two places at once. On the one hand, you’re walking around your local Coptic Church holding a candle, singing “Lord have mercy” in a tune which seems deeply sad and deeply joyful at the same time (which is different, mind you, to being half sad and half joyful). On the other hand, in some mysterious way, you are also walking towards a garden in Jerusalem to put a blood-soaked corpse into a new tomb. Some would say you’re not really in the same place as Joseph and Mary and the bloody bundle; properly speaking, they would insist, you are in a Coptic Church on Good Friday. You might imagine that you’re following a group of first-century Jews to a new tomb outside Jerusalem, but imagining doesn’t make it true. That’s what some people would say. Perhaps they’re right. But those people have probably never been to a Coptic Church on Good Friday, and so we might wonder how they can be so sure.

As you walk around the Church in procession, you notice some of the tired faces around you. A few places ahead of you in the procession is the man who taught you to be a Sunday School teacher. Like Joseph and Nicodemus, he’s the religious type. He’s attended every Holy Week service so far, morning and night, and he knows more about the Church and its history than anyone you’ve ever met. He loves this kind of service. His eyes are always closed during the long hymns, not because he’s sleeping (although no-one would know the difference if he was) but because he’s contemplating the deep nuances of the ancient hymns. He’s also one of the kindest and most self-sacrificing people you’ve ever known. You can only see his back from where you are, but you’re sure that his eyes are closed now too, as often as he can manage it without crashing into anything.

The procession takes you up the back of the church, where a woman called Selena is leaning against a pillar. Selena still comes to Church for the big occasions, but she’s not really the religious type. She has a complicated history, which she doesn’t like to talk about. A combination of things she’s done and things that have been done to her have convinced her that she isn’t pious or holy enough to be a good, church-going Coptic girl. So Selena only comes on Good Friday and Easter Sunday, because the services are crowded and she can slip in the back without really being noticed. She doesn’t understand the long hymns, but she likes the processions. In the processions, Christ comes to her at the back of the Church, meaning she doesn’t need to wade through an ocean of harsh eyes and perfect people to get to Him. The priests and deacons carry Him around the whole Church, and she can even reach out and touch Him, like the bleeding woman in the Gospels. You meet her gaze as you pass her, but she looks away.

Over there in the corner is the kid you kicked out of your Sunday School class last week. You probably shouldn’t have lost your temper, but in your defence, he was being a royally arrogant little punk. He hit another kid hard across the back of the head, and when you yelled at him, he acted like he couldn’t even hear you. But you remember now that he’s Selena’s younger brother, and you don’t really know what his family is like. The one time you visited his house (your Sunday School mentor was with you that day) you noticed that his mother was limping. The father was in the house but he didn’t come out to say hello. In the car on the way back, your mentor said, “Pray for them. Especially for the father.” You didn’t ask for details. You hadn’t been thinking of that when you kicked him out. You should probably talk to him later.

As the procession takes you through the church pews, you see the faces of your friends, your teachers, your relatives, even one of your old crushes. Mostly you don’t acknowledge them; sometimes, you exchange a quick smile or nod. You have seen these faces nearly every week for years; at liturgies and fundraisers and functions, at fantastically failed church plays, at homeless drives and hospital visits, soccer competitions and youth camps. But it strikes you all of sudden, how strange it is to be here with all these people. I mean, in one sense, it’s no surprise that the usual people would turn up to Church on Good Friday, as they have done for years. But in another sense, it all seems like a strange coincidence that these people, with whom you’ve spent so much time doing such boring, normal things, should be present with you at something so important. This is no parish camp or trivia night; you’ve all come here to bury God. That bloody bundle of linen behind you contains the Firstborn over All Creation, the Word of God, the Father’s Wisdom and Power. Now that He is dead, the whole Kingdom of Death is being overthrown; angels are pouring down into Hades to join the coup. You’d expect burying God and the overthrow of Hades to be a unique and monumental occasion; something totally removed the mundane existence you carry out day by day. And yet, there is your old mentor, your punk Sunday School kid, your old crush, your friends, the woman who heads the Sunday School service, the man who runs the bookshop, the lady who makes sandwiches on Sunday mornings.

You reach the end. Joseph and Nicodemus lay down their load and let the women pour a last libation of myrrh and spices on Him. Your parish priest is with them, sprinkling rose petals as red as the blood seeping through the linen. You remember that those hands, sprinkling rose petals, are the hands with which he played volleyball at your last camp. Now, he is using them to anoint the body of God for its burial. You look around at the tired, familiar faces, watching Abouna wrapping the tiny icon in white cloth. No-one is joking now. They are either singing, “Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal” or saying nothing. And again, you are surprised that you should all be together here, at this place where the whole world turned upside down.

When all is done, Joseph and Nicodemus seal up the tomb, locking their Teacher in Hades to do battle with its dark prince. Abouna kisses the door of the tomb and begins to read Psalms while the ancient mourners go home to weep and ponder the spectacular disaster that had become of all their hopes and dreams. Selena slips quietly out the back. Your old Sunday School mentor stands in the sanctuary, eyes closed and arms folded. When the chanting stops, your class punk is unusually quiet in his corner seat; he is praying that God will teach his parents how to love each other. You realise that you’re glad they were all here with you, to see God die and come to rest in the earth.

It’s only as you leave that you realise who had been walking next to you in the procession. He never said a word, but He had directed your attention as you walked; He had pointed wordlessly to Selena, to your old mentor, to your Sunday School child. And He had looked back at you from inside each of them; from the peace that hung around your old mentor, from Selena’s downcast eyes, especially from your little punk Sunday School kid. When you reached the end of the procession, you watched Him wrapped in linen and sealed behind the black curtains of the sanctuary. But even then, somehow, He hadn’t left your side. He was walking beside you while He was borne behind you in burial clothes; just as He was still in the bosom of His Father even when He went to the depths of Hades. You realise now that it is no coincidence that you were all here together. You have things to do.

And He’s not dead.

“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” (Gal 3:2)