End of the Spear

I am currently reading the book End of the Spear by Steve Saint, a powerful story of death and forgiveness. Steve was only five years old when his father, a missionary pilot, and four colleagues were murdered in the jungles of Ecuador. Subsequently his mother and aunt made peaceful contact with the Waodani people, who were considered one of the most savage cultures on earth, many of them converted to Christianity, and Steve grew up living with the people who had murdered his father.

Many years later Steve and his wife and family were invited back to Ecuador by his father's killers to work with them supporting their economic development in the face of external pressures to conform to 20th century change.

End of the Spear is an amazing story of the close friendship and love that developed in the Ecuador jungle between a group of people who used to kill as a way of life, and the son of one of their victims. In time, Steve accepted that the death of the five missionaries in 1956 was the seed for the survival of a culture that was otherwise destined to destroy itself.

Anzac Day is an opportunity for us to remember those who have given their lives and to learn the lessons of history as we seek to develop a community where love and forgiveness are central.

Here's how Steve Saint reflected on his experiences:

“I have long dreaded the thought of getting to the end of life and regretting that I allowed my own timidity or other people's expectations to determine the course of my life. I had decided at a much younger age that several of my beliefs should determine the course of my life...I...believe that Waengongi, the Creator, has an epic script into which my minute presence has been written. ”
― Steve Saint, End of the Spear

More on the Power of Music

Following on from yesterday's blog, here's another link about Henry (who's gone viral apparently), and the power of music in nursing homes.

The power of music

I had the privilege this afternoon of listening to one of the residents of a Baptistcare facility playing the piano and it made me realise again the power of music. Take a look at this video to see some of this power.

The Look of Love

The trial of Jesus was an intense time of physical violence, but also a time when power was wielded like a whip. It was a time when the authorities played loose with the truth and got their own way despite all the evidence to the contrary.

One of Jesus’ disciples, Peter was warming his hands by the fire with a small group that were gathered just outside the main courtroom. On one hand he wanted to see what was happening to Jesus, but another part of his instinct led him to avoid recognition.

Unfortunately, his attempt at nonchalant ignorance didn’t work and a number of people commented that they thought he was one of Jesus’ friends. He mumbled a denial at first, but his guilt finally got the better of him and he cursed and swore as he denied he had ever had anything to do with Jesus.

Jesus remained silent through the violence, the lies and the accusations, but he caught Peter’s eye at the moment that his good friend was cursing his name, and with that look of love Peter went outside and wept. I suspect that in many ways Peter’s denial hurt more than the violence and the name-calling.

I’ve no doubt the heart of Jesus hurts as a result of the violence, injustice and rebellion that fills the world. But we all have cause to weep when his eye meets ours across a crowded room and we think about how we have added to his pain.

A Shared Meal

A significant event in the week before Jesus’ death was a special meal he had with his disciples, that has become known as the Last Supper. As Jesus ate with his disciples he shared some of his thoughts about what may become of him in the days ahead.

One of Jesus’ special friends was a man by the name of Judas, who unknown to his other friends, had been putting his hand into the money bag, and had dobbed Jesus into the authorities in exchange for a small amount of money. It appeared that personal gain was more important than friendship.

In an amazing act of grace, Jesus shared that meal with all of his disciples, including Judas, and did not reveal to the others what he knew about Judas. In time the truth would come out, but on this occasion Jesus did not betray a friendship even when he knew that Judas did not have the same commitment to friendship and honour that he did.

Judas opted for personal gain over friendship. Jesus opted for honour and friendship over personal gain or power play. It makes me wonder which side of the fence I would fall if I was placed in a similar situation.

The Humble King

Each day this week I plan to give a brief reflection on the events leading up to Easter. Perhaps you can put these up on your staff noticeboards or forward them to your networks as a reminder of the importance of this special time.

Yesterday was Palm Sunday, the day when we remember Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem at the beginning of what has become known as Holy Week. The people who gathered on the outskirts of Jerusalem were looking forward to someone coming who would get rid of the Romans and provide freedom, democracy and … well, they wanted a better life.

But instead of Jesus coming with a marching band and a red carpet, Jesus borrowed a donkey and its colt that were tied up outside a little pub and he rode this donkey, probably rather awkwardly, into Jerusalem.

While the crowds waved palm leaves and threw them down on the road in front of the donkey (that’s where the term, Palm Sunday comes from), I’m sure they were still a bit mystified how awkward and un-king-like their Messiah looked riding a donkey.

Yet it was this sense of humility that had marked Jesus’ life, was evident now at the time of his entry into Jerusalem, and would continue to be a feature of his death.

Given a similar situation with crowds of people standing by ready to offer acclamation I wonder whether I would choose the donkey or try to find a more fitting means of transport? It’s worth pondering.