A Tale of Two Saturdays

Two Satudays running I've found myself in London, but for two very different reasons. On Saturday 23rd February I took my son to the Emirates Stadium to watch Arsenal v. Aston Villa as an 18th birthday treat. His birthday was back in January, but better late than never. It was a bitterly cold day, but we enjoyed the game, which Arsenal won 2-1. I'm a rugby rather than football fan really and didn't know what I'd make of it all, but it was a great boys day out. I managed to keep a weather eye on the progress of the Italy v. Wales Six Nations game on my phone. We watched the second half of the England v. France match in a bar/restaurant on Waterloo Station while waiting for the train home. The piping hot beef stew helped us to thaw out.

Last Saturday the wife and I, together with friends from local churches went to the British Museum for a Day One guided tour with Clive Anderson, joint-author of Through the British Museum - with the Bible (Day One). It was a early start for a Saturday (usually my day off). We jumped on the coach at 7am in order to arrive at the museum at 10am in time for the tour's 10.45am kick off. I'd not met Clive before and wasn't sure quite what to expect, but he was an engaging and well informed guide. The diminutive chap claimed that both Samson and the apostle Paul probably looked a bit like him. What archaeological evidence he has for that I don't know, but there we are.

I'd been taken around the museum by my parents when a child and a guided tour had been laid on for students when I was at the London Theological Seminary, but I'd forgotten much of what is on display. Seeing the mummy with a tuft of ginger hair jogged a childhood memory. The sight of the hair on the long-dead man really spooked me as a kid. I'd not seen a 'real life' dead body before. It's still a macabre sight as the corpse bears its silent witness to human mortality. The replica of the Assyrian city gates were about the only thing I could recollect from the LTS tour. Strange that. Huge as they are, the doors are hardly the most impressive thing about the place. 

With memories of earlier visits fading, most of what I saw in the museum was fresh to me. Clive Anderson's lively commentary gave added interest to the exhibits we paused to look at as our party made its way though the vast museum. I'm not even going to try and give a blow-by-blow account all that we saw. If you're that interested, book your place on a Day One British Museum Tour. But my highlights included the magnificently exhibited Parthenon Sculptures (no Greece, you can't have 'em back), an assortment of beautiful classical statuary, the Rosetta Stone, King Artaxerxes' wine bowl, possibly kept in plentiful supply by Nehemiah, artefacts from an ancient British villa replete with Christian symbolism and Oliver Cromwell's suitably modest Puritan pocket watch. Maybe the Banner of Truth could produce replicas of the last item to compliment their 'Pocket Puritan' titles. Oh, and it was good to see old ginger again. Well, not really. He didn't look any better. 

On a more reflective note, walking amongst the ruins of once great empires and civilisations put me in mind of Rudyard Kipling's poem, Recessional, a verse of which says,

Far-called our navies melt away—
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,

Lest we forget—lest we forget!

Fly the Flag

Something strange is happening. Wherever I look houses are draped with a while flag emblazoned with a red cross. Cars whoosh by carrying smaller versions of the same banner. For a Welshman it's all a bit bewildering. What's it all about?

My inkling is that this outbreak of English patriotism could have something to do with a certain football tournament currently taking place in South Africa, but then again I might be wrong.

Apparently the Cross of St. George has been recognised as the English flag since the Middle Ages. That's what it said on Wikipedia anyway. Let no one say that these articles are not properly researched.

The central feature of the flag is the Christian symbol of the cross. All around England the cross is flying high, which is a bit weird if you think about it. 1) Because England is supposed to be a "post-Christian society". And 2) Because at first glance the cross of Jesus is nothing to be proud of. After all, why celebrate that fact that an innocent man was horribly executed? Why make that event the symbol of a nation?

That God's own Son died on a cross in weakness and shame seems to be utterly foolish incomprehensible. But for those who believe, the cross of Jesus is the supreme revelation of the wisdom, power and love of God. He died not as another helpless victim of human cruelty, but as a substitute. Jesus died in the place of sinners so that we might be put right with God.

Christians are not ashamed of the cross of Jesus. It is the royal banner that rallies us to faith and action. However England do in the World Cup, those who follow the flag of Jesus can be assured that they will share in his victory over evil and death.

* An edited version of an article for July/August edition of News & Views, West Lavington Parish Magazine.

Football Fever

There is no getting away from it, the Football World Cup, hosted by South Africa is truly underway. The TV schedules are dominated by the tournament. Paradise for football fans. Not much fun for those who have little interest in the game. True to their gender stereotypes, my son would watch every match if he could, while my daughter scarpers for her bedroom  at the first sign of football on TV.

Who can tell how far England will go before they get knocked out after yet another nail biting penalty shoot out? After an unconvincing start against the USA, we'll have to see. Oh, and for the benefit of American readers,  1-1 was a draw, not a victory fot the USA. Do the math. England will have to beat Algeria tonight if they hope to progress to the later stages of the tournament.

Bill Shankly, the renowned Liverpool manager once quipped, "Some people believe football is a matter of life and death, I can assure you it is much, much more important than that." That almost makes football a religion. What could be more important than life and death other than matters of eternal significance?

Perhaps one reason why Shankly's quote still resonates with people is that football fans are often passionate about the side they support. Football fever enters their souls. They mourn their team's defeats and cheer their triumphs to the echo.

By way of contrast Christians can sometimes seem to lack passion for their faith. But that is not how it should be. Following Jesus is more important than life and death. Believers should be lively witnesses to the life-transforming power of Christ. After all, when our time comes to an end in this world it won't matter whether we have supported England, USA, or Brazil. But trusting in Jesus Christ will make all the difference.

*  An edited version of an article published in June's News & Views, West Lavington parish magazine.