The Prodigal Coda

Mar 13, 2023 ~ Lucy ~ Leave a comment

This post first appeared on ‘More Than Writers’, the blog of the Association of Christian Writers.

Let’s start at the end

I’ve recently become fascinated by story endings and epilogues, conclusions and codas, post-scripts and denouements. A good storyteller knows how to end a story well. We may gasp in shock or sigh with satisfaction, but we know intuitively that a well-crafted ending is a powerful thing.

How did the narrator or their story survive?
Moby Dick and The Handmaid’s Tale give some interesting options.

What eventually happened to the protagonists?
Animal Farm tells us how low the pigs really go.

Did she marry him?
Readers of Jane Eyre will understand.

Is there going to be a sequel?
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince ends on a cliff-hanger, with the death of a beloved character.

Is there a reveal or twist?
Max’s supper is still hot in Where the Wild Things Are – why is that?

What about Jesus as storyteller?

The purpose of the stories Jesus told was not in entertaining his listeners, although parables could certainly do that. On the surface level, these short tales work to amuse and stir up the imagination. On a deeper level though, they act to challenge people about God’s kingdom and their own actions, communicating truths gently and memorably. The parables of Jesus are great models for connecting with people.

Biblical narratives can be considered in terms of two dramatic structure shapes according to literary theorist Northrop Frye. There is the U shape of comedy and the inverted U shape of tragedy. A tragedy begins with a protagonist’s rise from rags to riches, but ends with a descent into disaster or adversity. Think Romeo and Juliet: sad… happy… sad.

A comedy, on the other hand, begins with a positive state which is disrupted by the narrative events until a point at which the protagonist awakes or is delivered. Things take an upward turn, finishing with equilibrium again: happy… sad… happy.

The resolution may be brief, but if the story ties up the plot lines with a happy ending, we feel satisfied. Despite all the adventures along the way, there is a comfortable or just conclusion. The Bible as a whole can even be shown to follow this broad arc: Eden… sin… sacrifice… Heaven.

Frye uses Luke 15:11-24 to illustrate the comedy structure. The story is a familiar one. A younger son asks for his share of his father’s wealth, but squanders his money in a distant country. When famine comes, he is reduced to eating with pigs. He recognises his need of his father and returns home, where he is reconciled. Wonderful.

Except that this is not a whole parable.

The prodigal coda

The parable is not about one son, but two. Kenneth E. Bailey wrote about the literary style in the story, which he called ‘The Father and the Two Lost Sons’. Bailey was an astute and knowledgeable writer on Middle Eastern settings and customs and how they help us understand the Bible. Some of his cultural insights are eye-opening to a Western reader (see especially Poet and Peasant).

Bailey reasons that this is a double story, following a parabolic ballad shape for each brother. The first story tells of the younger brother and the literary structure shows the U shape as the boy leaves and comes home.

A A son is lost

B Money wasted extravagantly

C Everything lost

D Sin – feeding pigs for Gentiles

E Total rejection

F A change of mind – he came to himself

F’ Initial repentance – make me a servant

E’ Total acceptance

D’ Repentance – no longer worthy

C’ Everything (sonship) gained

B’ Extravagant celebration

A’ A son is found – was dead and is alive

This not only fits a beautiful chiasmus pattern but resolves the story of the younger son. Much like the wandering sheep, the God figure rejoices at finding what was lost.

The second coda however is a little different.

A   A son comes near
   B   Feast for a brother now safely home
       C   Father comes to reconcile
           D   Complaint (how he is treated)
           D’   Complaint (how his brother is treated)
       C’   Father tries to reconcile
   B’   Brother is safe – come to the feast
A’   ?

There is no A’.

It is a missing coda.

The audience, including Pharisees who were complaining about Jesus socialising with tax collectors and other ne’er-do-wells, are left with half a tale. Fill in the missing gap, Jesus is hinting. You are the older brother. What do you do next?

The expected story resolution is missing, but this is no mistake. The master storyteller is deliberately giving his listeners a challenge. It is possible to choose either direction. The characters are handed a stylus and to told write their own conclusion. Will they accept grace and be willing to reconcile, or resist God’s love in all its shocking manifestations?

Jesus had not read literary theory. He didn’t study Chekhov’s gun or feel the need to tie up all the strands – he already knew good storytelling gives the listener something to do. His ambiguity here is genius.

Genius storytelling

Much more can be said about Jesus’ genius in telling stories. Peter Williams has done an excellent job explaining this with reference to this parable elsewhere. Not unlike Pixar films today, ‘The Father and the Two Lost Sons’ works at more than one level for different audiences. The surface story is compelling enough for the wider crowd. The details in the precise words and phrases mean more to the listening scribes however, triggering specific stories in Genesis. They cannot have missed the moral challenges Jesus was quietly setting them while they judged him and his choice of friends.

The echoes of Old Testament stories are extraordinary – all the more so when you see how tightly written the parable is.

The coda did not go missing. The whole story is an invitation. A well resolved comedy-arc for a younger son and an invitation for the son who was lost while he remained at home which only the listener can complete.

Image taken from Pixabay.

Seeing the Positives

Feb 10, 2022Feb 10, 2022 ~ Lucy ~ 4 Comments

I sent my son to school today. For the previous eight days he had had to isolate in his room with Covid-19. He nearly escaped on day six, but we saw a faint positive stripe on his test that day, so he had to be confined to solitary for 48 more hours. See the joy on his face as he sets off, knowing that the first lesson is PE.

During this last week my emotions as a mum steered naturally toward disappointment and frustration. Missed clubs and hugs and time together. Far too much time for the boy watching YouTube and playing computer games, before a last-minute scramble to catch up on school work, much of which needed me loitering in the hallway explaining or translating.

But there were positives to be spotted too, and not just the annoying kind on a stick that send you to your room for two more days. Battling depression has taught me to look for the positives frequently, in order not to get overwhelmed by missed opportunities and disappointments. I was utterly aware that Joe’s experience of Covid-19, being particularly mild, was a blessing in disguise. The rest of the household are fully vaccinated (he is not yet old enough), but hopefully he’ll now have a measure of immunity for a time. We have the resources here in our home to isolate him, to feed him and provide him with all he needed, as well as enjoy a few treats such as homemade cake or a takeaway to lift all our spirits. One of our family traditions is Pop Tart Week. The last week in any half term when everyone’s stamina is usually waning is the best time for a fun breakfast week. Joe lit up when I brought him breakfast on Monday, having forgotten all about it. I heartily recommend occasional fun breakfast weeks!

There were other positives too. The timing was really not so bad for us and no major events had to be cancelled. Joseph was very grateful for all our efforts and enjoyed playing battleships (shouting across rooms) and listening to his bedtime story from a distance. The really lovely thing was when he and his best friend made up, having fallen out quite seriously a few months back. Who would have thought that they would both be ill at the same time? They played a few games together online and discussed plans for future careers (currently Joe is interested in the idea of being an aviation engineer for MAF). Having more time and attention for my daughter has also proven valuable and she has appreciated family meals with just mum and dad. We have gelled as a team over this time and had to reconsider each other more closely, including food needs, washing, bathroom use, wellbeing and emotional support.

I am grateful for the positives and the way this played out did get me thinking significantly. There are times when it is appropriate to count your blessings and recognise the good in situations which may otherwise be viewed as bad. The positive moments within the suffering. The people that come alongside, sometimes as a consequence of it. The good things going on in the wider world. Previous joys. Future hopes. However any of these things, if applied unlovingly, can be deemed cruel.

Jimmy Carr

Recently a British comedian caused something of a stir when he said that one positive of the Holocaust was that thousands of Gypsies were murdered. His appeal to hatred aligned him with the perpetrators of the evil actions and mocked the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people. It was selfish; he was after the buzz of the laugh. It was thoughtless and untrue; in no way were these killings positive. And this did nothing to identify any true positives relating to the grim chapter of our past. Precious positive moments such as self-sacrifice, bravery, forgiveness, contrition and lessons learned. Even these, however, cannot in any way undo the trauma and evil. (If you want to read more about how it was possible for victims of concentration camps to forgive, do read about Corrie ten Boom).

Job’s Comforters

It is necessary to come alongside people who are suffering. To sit with those in pain or distress. Most of us find ourselves in this situation at one time or another. Many of us will understand the feeling that our own comforters have missed the point, rather like Job’s friends in the Old Testament. They see that he has lost everything and is in physical pain and try to blame him. I can just imagine them trying to take his scarred hands in their own, looking him closely in the eye and saying that he just needs to see the positives.

Really? Job replies, dropping his face. The positives of losing all ten of my children, all my financial security, my health, dignity and good name? The positives of not knowing what brought this on and how to restore it?

Ah yes, they suggest, clueless and tactless. You still have your wife!

He raises his head and whispers, But she wants me to die!

Ah, but your donkey-herder and shepherd and camel-herder and one other servant lived!

With no animals to tend! What are you talking about?

At this point friends who realise that they are doing more harm than good leave. Others of us plough on, preaching nonsense and not listening.

There are times when acknowledging grief and pain and lamenting with our peers is far more important than looking to find positives.

Jesus Christ

When your friends die, it stinks. Even with the hope of Heaven loss is real, physically painful often and emotionally overwhelming in recurring waves.

When Jesus turned up to Lazarus’ home four days after his friend died, he was absolutely certain of two things:
The power of resurrection.
And the pain of death.

Jesus wailed with the crowd in John 11, moved hugely at their grief and mourning at the loss of Lazarus. Of course it was not the end of the story, but it was a critical part of it. Jesus identified utterly with the distress of death and the stench of sorrow. Jesus knew how to lament honestly. He could see the negatives and react in love. This too was part of the healing for those nearby.

In verse 43, shouting (quite literally) loud enough to raise the dead, Jesus called to Lazarus to come out of the cave tomb. This was no magic trick or deception. The crowd knew what was what. Lazarus was definitely dead. And they believed they were well past the scope of miracles now.

But there was no denying the dead man walking, covered in cloth and stumbling in the light. No longer dead. No longer hopeless.

Jesus knew the pain of death in his mortal body and in identifying with mortal humans. But he also knew a deeper divine power. The positive power of resurrection was there, waiting to be witnessed, but not before the lament of the negative.

Let’s see positives, count blessings and recognise joys large and small every day we can. But let’s not forget to lament when we need to. It is right to wail over what is lost and weep over what is hurting. Some won’t understand this and will laugh. Some won’t understand how to help you and will say all the wrong things. But some will sit with you and weep. Or perhaps even shout at you from behind a door with hope and expectation.

Out of Context (a bass remix)

Jan 25, 2022 ~ Lucy ~ Leave a comment

Do you laugh at yourself? I often find myself chuckling away about trivial things. My sensitivity to silliness is fairly fine-tuned these days, as I forget so much and use much effort noticing either the big picture or the tiny details of the world around me. Rarely both at once. I make many silly mistakes every day and given the choice between laughing and crying, I think finding the funny side is usually healthier.

Recently I prepared some ‘out of context’ visuals for someone’s birthday and I thought it would be fun to share them here. Bear in mind that I do study and teach the Bible and how not to use it out of context. A good way to consider this is to deliberately take verses out of context and wrap them up in free images (Pixabay). This set has a particular theme. Maybe I should do some more with different themes in future.

There is a serious side of course – it should become evident that it is easy to take anything out of context with the appropriate visual and that we should keep our brains engaged when presented with statements of any sort – but mostly this was just for fun. I hope you like them, and do comment if you’d like me to prepare any on another particular theme.

Photo descriptions:
1. ‘Find someone who plays well and bring him to me’, from 1 Samuel 16:17, on a silhouette of an electric guitarist at sunset
2. ‘Do not fret…’, from Psalm 37:1, on a high angle view of a bass guitar’s neck (with frets)
3. ‘Whoever practises…will be called great…’, from Matthew 5:19, on a bass guitar lying on a wooden floor
4. ‘What’s the meaning of all the noise in the city?’ from 1 Kings 1:41, on a crowd at a rock concert waving their arms
5. ‘And the sound was heard far away’ from Ezra 3:13, on a view of a musician on stage from behind, showing their feet, cables, pedal, laptop, foldback speakers.

Two Angels

Apr 2, 2021 ~ Lucy ~ 2 Comments

I carried sandals; you carried a robe. A simple one, washed linen
(like the graveclothes he wore when we arrived).

Woven into dark thick air was vinegar. And blood. And it was cold and chaos
and quiet except a muttering beyond the stone
(some Latin insults, some whispering insects). I wanted to weep.

Asleep?

No. Dead.

We watched. And timeless hours passed
(his body firm, blood dried in his hair, the music of his heart now still).
I couldn’t say a word. You looked at me.

I saw then why he chose us. Both of us short. Short angels suit low spaces
and this the holiest of holy places.
No room here for wings (or footstools for the King).

Then in the darkest moment came a Breath
and there was Light!

You cheered; I pushed aside the stone. Those frightened soldiers fled!
New air rushed in (the almond air of Spring).
We worshipped, laughed and danced.

Then, stooping low, I tied my Master’s sandals.
And Jesus thanked me, took his graveclothes, folded them and smiled
and stamped his heel.
The ground beneath us shook.

By Looking, Cave, Nature, Cave Entrance, Caves Output — _{Image Pixabay}

Top of the Pile

Jan 30, 2021Jan 30, 2021 ~ Lucy ~ 3 Comments

Reading is my escape.

Last year I finished reading more books than the previous year, and I wanted to share some of the highlights and a few recommendations.

Mornings include escape time to centre and regroup before work. This means reading a chapter of something positive and a devotional thought to challenge me. I was encouraged to learn of some black authors I had not already read and these two stood out for me:

More Than Enchanting by Jo Saxton is encouraging, thoughtful and relatable. It was written to empower women – most women in my experience – who face barriers which prevent them achieving their God-given potential.

Still Standing by Tola Doll Fisher, editor of Woman Alive magazine, is a series of 100 ‘thoughts for the day’ on matters as wide-ranging as ‘How to spend a pre-payday weekend’ to ‘Imposter syndrome’ and ‘Why I’m not here for religion’. Tola has a fascinating life-story and uses her experiences, both good and bad, to connect honestly and powerfully.

Other morning books that connected well with me were:

Cathy Madavan’s Irrepressible, which champions resilience and lays out some excellent and timely principles to grow in it and Charlie Mackesy’s The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse, which speaks truth and kindness to readers of all ages and is already a classic in its own right.

Afternoons for me are for working on teaching tasks. As well as writing, I teach Biblical Studies so I try to read a chapter of the Bible in an original language during the day if I can fit it in. I’m working through Old Testament narratives now and finding things I haven’t seen in the English versions. I have found biblehub.com to be a valuable resource here; using an interlinear version is much faster than parsing and remembering every word (especially now that my memory is not what it used to be). It still gives my brain a workout though and I can click on the words for more information on pronunciation, roots, meanings and cross-references.

Evenings are for fiction, beginning with reading to my son when I put him to bed. One of the highlights of last year reading to a 10-year-old was The Murderer’s Ape by Jakob Wegelius.

This story pulls you in to an absurd journey of twists and adventures centred on the wonderful main character, Sally Jones. Gorillas may not always have fared well in fiction, but Sally Jones is a highly intelligent and gentle ship’s engineer and out to prove the innocence of Captain Koskela. Will she succeed? Written originally in Swedish but translated with real fluency and pace, this page-turner leaves the reader curious to explore Portuguese fada music, Indian palaces and even how ships work. Great for adventurers aged 7 and up.

Other books I would recommend to children from my own reading last year:

Kiran Millwood Hargrave’s fantastical The Girl of Ink and Stars has a female protagonist mapmaker searching for answers and evocative writing. The dystopian world comes alive a piece at a time, like a map being unfolded. You never know quite where the adventure will go next.

I love A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh for its wit and warmth. The photo is of the 1931 copy I inherited from my grandpa. A.A. Milne’s writing stands the test of time and the characters are so familiar you miss them when you finish the books. I think I am most like Rabbit myself. Milne has written other great stuff too, but Pooh is timeless and works for all ages. A great mood-lifter: innocent and silly but intelligent with it.

For young adults:

If you have not read anything by Stephen Davies, you are missing out. He has a knack for stories no one else is telling but which are gripping and gutsy. Chessboxer convinced me that a book about chess really could be interesting, with a flawed and feisty main character Leah Baxter, imaginative style and original plot.

Kwame Alexander’s Solo is told in free verse and engages the mind, heart and soul. The story of Blade, the son of a washed-up rock star, takes you in all kinds of directions and riffs on musical themes and ideas. Look out for other books by these authors too; you won’t be disappointed.

For older readers:

These all suit a slightly older readership for different reasons. Fran Hill’s Miss, What Does Incomprehensible Mean? connected with me on various levels but I especially recommend it to anyone who’s taught at secondary level. Built on her own life experiences, this fictional diary contains astute observations on life, literature and loss, told with practised humour and intrigue. I lent out my copy and might need to replace it!

Annie Try’s Red Cabbage Blue tells the story of Adelle Merchant, a girl who only eats blue food and who has an overprotective mother. Her psychologist Mike Lewis is trying to solve the puzzles this raises, but he is also dealing with his own issues and relationships. Annie’s background in clinical psychology means this reads very convincingly – there are other books which feature Mike Lewis but I found this one the most engaging so far. A great story with a satisfying ending.

Manacle by Chris Aslan is arresting and provocative. This is the second of three books of his which tell stories from the Bible from a very different angle. Unlike many biblical retellings, I found this well-researched and well-written and without sugar-coating or preaching. I am eagerly looking forward to his next publication and highly recommend both this and Alabaster which overlaps a few of the characters: the content may be tragic and bittersweet in places but the settings are powerful and create a compelling view of people’s lives in the times they are set.

There are other books I read which don’t fit into any of these categories. They might fit into any time of day and they are generally curious, theological or both, so I might read them whenever I get a moment.

Women’s Lives in Biblical Times by Jennie Ebeling is an academic book (around £20 at the moment), but it is a wonderful resource for anyone wanting to understand more about domestic life in the Old Testament – it is a perfect cross-over for me of my writing and teaching work. Jennie invents a character, Orah, who lives in ancient Israel in the Iron Age and describes her life using narrative, in addition to the non-fictional archaeological and biblical data she presents to make her case.

How Not to Write a Novel (the version by Newman and Mittelmark, not any others of the same title) is a superb read if you aspire to publish a book. By giving many examples of what not to send in to publishers, the authors hope to encourage people to give up their writing, or – failing that – to do a much better job at it. Very funny, frequently rude and full of brilliant parodies, this is one of the better works on how to write, quite possibly because it attacks the topic from an entirely different angle. No recommendations on what to do; just what not to do.

Beard Theology by The Church Mouse is the book you didn’t realise you needed. If you thought that the history of the church had no connection with facial hair, you have much to learn in this clever and very silly book. If there is one thing I’d add, it would be a chapter on the biblical stories on hairiness; but this would actually make an excellent sequel (think Absalom, Esau, Elisha, Samson, etc). Not having one’s own beard is no barrier to enjoying this and the illustrations by Dave Walker are hilarious.

Theology of Home, however, was a book I did not need. At least, not if I wanted a systematic and careful investigation of how faith and decorating a home intersect. I was curious about the concept and ordered a copy from America. The book is filled with large photos of happy and tidy rooms filled with beautiful things but not a lot of reasoning on the questions I actually had, which are along the lines of ‘how can we use our resources most wisely, and how much disposable income should we spend on our homes?’ – I still haven’t found good answers to these questions so am working it out as I go instead. This might lead to more thinking on this another time for me, so not an entirely wasted exercise.

One final book deserves a mention from those I completed last year. Another inherited title, Cornish Recipes Ancient and Modern by the Cornwall WI (1930).

Many of the recipes are not safe, several suggestions for cures are downright dangerous and the ingredients lists (where they exist) are as confusing as they are amusing: why give precise quantities? Written when powdered ammonia was still considered a rising agent and all parts of animals and plants seemed to have a domestic purpose, every page of this collection of concoctions made me smile. It may not be practical today, but it got me thinking and provided several jokes to share, so that counts as a great success.

Where will I escape in 2021? My To Be Read pile grows as fast as it shrinks and this year I am looking forward to some great releases as well as revisiting some classics. I’ve completed five so far, but have a number more on the go and this year I’m also recording when I finish books to see whether they always run in groups. I’m always on the lookout for interesting, amusing and well-written works so let me know in the comments if you have any good recommendations.

Oh, and please don’t try the pies.

Building Character

Jun 15, 2020 ~ Lucy ~ 1 Comment

I was privileged to lead a reflection on Saturday, for a group of Christian writers who would have spent the weekend at Scargill House in Yorkshire. Although our weekend had been cancelled, a number of us wanted to use the opportunity to meet virtually, so we did some writing challenges together and encouraged each other with reflections. Philip Davies gave a great reflection on calling as a writer. I decided to do something on character, and this is a summary of the reflection I gave.

What is your character?

Has lock-down given you the chance to become more aware of your own strengths and weaknesses?

Has the rhythm of lock-down highlighted aspects of your personality?

Has it revealed areas for growth? If so, are you considering how to grow?

If you were a character in a story, how would the author write about you?

I’ve certainly become aware of parts of my own personality through the past three months or so. Areas where I need more patience, or action, or humility, or wisdom, or grace. Areas where I’ve been improving, and areas which still need a lot of work doing. I want to grow and learn and be the best character I can be. Lock-down is certainly showing up my true character.

Strange verses

I got to thinking about Bible verses and some of the stories that are told within the Bible which use vivid metaphors for characters. Take one of my favourite verses, Daniel 8:21, for example. A verse many people should know by heart, I believe:

A super verse to take out of context, and a bizarre one in any event. It forms part of an explanation for a vision, where the character of a person is described in terms of a violent animal. The animal metaphor is a punchy and descriptive.

It is not the only time metaphors are used in the Old Testament to describe people’s characters. There is a lovely fable in Judges 9:8-15 where the people of Shechem want to appoint a particular king, but are strongly advised not to. Jotham tells them a story to get his point across, and compares their situation to a group of trees trying to choose a king. The obvious candidates (olive, fig, vine) decline, and a wholly unsuitable thorn-bush is offered the position instead. Jotham uses the idea of a thorn-bush: unfruitful, undesirable for protection and unsafe, to make his point about his political opponent.

Fables concerning trees representing people may well have been a thing in the ancient Near East. There is a tiny story tucked into 2 Kings 14:9 along similar lines. The kings of Israel and Judah are squaring up to each other and the good king – Jehoash of Israel – sends a story to Amaziah that his intentions compare to a thistle wanting to marry the daughter of a cedar of Lebanon; a thistle which immediately gets trodden underfoot by a wild beast. Ouch.

Plants, Planets and Patroni

Being compared to a plant is one thing. Apocalyptic passages in the Old and New Testaments compare people to animals (real and imaginary) to make their points. Jesus uses the idea of wheat and weeds growing together in the same field in his parable in Matthew 13 and explains that the weeds are metaphors for those who belong to the evil one. To be compared to weeds is a grim indictment: these people are nuisances, sucking nourishment from the growing ‘wheat’ and holding no value in making bread (future blessing). However, though they try to prevent the good purposes from becoming established and succeeding, they will not win in the end. It is a great metaphor and the parable inspires hope.

Others have also used natural phenomena to enrich their stories and characters. I was thrilled when I learned about C.S. Lewis’ planet-based inspiration for each of the seven Narnia stories and how he extended and wove the characteristics through clever metaphors through each book. It is so subtle that the themes were not discovered until 2003 (see Michael Ward’s Planet Narnia).

Similarly, J.K. Rowling applies the characteristics of each patronus to the characters in her Harry Potter series:

There are subtle cross-references and hints about the motives, qualities and strengths of each character in what Rowling writes.

I humorously queried the correct form of the plural of patronus with ACW friends and am very grateful to Susan Sanderson, who pointed out that ‘patroni’ should be the Latin plural. She looked it up in the Oxford Latin mini dictionary, where she found this definition: ‘protector, patron; pleader, advocate’. Amazingly, there seems to be a link with The Holy Spirit as our Patronus.

Metaphors for people in terms of an animal, plant, planet or other phenomenon have come and gone throughout human history and literature. What about writers though? Can we identify characteristics from a plant, for example, to apply to one of our own characters?

Satsuma

You could describe a satsuma as:

Colourful

Juicy

Soft and sweet

Just a little tangy

Fun

Small

Popular with children

Imagine a person who inhabited all these characteristics. Doing this gives me the image of a lovely nursery nurse, covered in paint and giggling with the children.

What characteristics would you associate with a potato? An olive? A banana?

It can be a useful exercise to start with a natural object to build up a character. To find commonalities and to extend the metaphor where that helps. Almost anything can be a muse, if you don’t take yourself too seriously.

God as Author

As a Christian, I believe God is the Creator of everything (Isaiah 40:28) and Author of salvation (Hebrews 2:10). Along with everything else in creation, I am merely a player in it; a created being with a role to play and a set of characteristics I didn’t get to choose. I have giftings and I have limits.

God writes the setting of creation, chooses my character identity and places me in the story. Along the way, my character is worked on and refined. Sometimes the Author is involved, sometimes not. I become who I become, either through my own giftings and limits, or my responses to them in the circumstances which arise. God does not write the fine detail – that is for me to create and edit myself, but he does assist with my character building when I ask. And sometimes, as in lock-down, external events mean that a lot of work is done on my character in a short space of time, a bit like living in a pressure cooker.

Give Me Faith — “Not only so, but we also glory in our ...

So, how has God written your character?

Has lock-down given you the chance to become more aware of God’s giftings and limits on your life?

Has the rhythm of lock-down highlighted who God has created you to be?

Has this time revealed areas for spiritual growth? If so, are you considering how to grow?

Has it revealed and evidenced God’s purposes being worked out in your life? Confirmed a calling? Challenged you?

How is God writing about you?

What metaphor(s) might God choose to identify who you are?

A prayer

Lord God, I recognise that I have unique strengths and weaknesses, passions, abilities and limits, each of which you have given me.

I thank you for all of them. I thank you for making me who I am.

There are parts of my personality I am especially grateful for. There are other parts which sadden me. Sometimes I see myself as a minor, insignificant character and I forget you are my author. You create me, form me, inspire and celebrate me.

Reveal today where you want to develop my character next, and how you want to use me in my situation. Enable me to bless others in their own callings.

May my life and character reflect you, Lord Jesus, to all I interact with.

In your precious name,

Amen

The Crown Virus

Apr 14, 2020Apr 14, 2020 ~ Lucy ~ Leave a comment

Do you know what COVID-19 looks like?

If you were to look closely – and I mean really closely – with a scanning electron microscope, you’d see a shape like this:

The virus is a bundle of proteins and RNA, held together with fats which dissolve when you wash with soap. It is called a coronavirus because some of the proteins stick out like the points of a crown.

Here’s the curious thing: crown is essentially the same word as corona. I hadn’t made that linguistic connection before last month. I knew that corona was a shape made around the sun in a total eclipse, and that the beer of the same name has a logo with a crown on it. But I do love learning, and I especially love words, so I investigated.

The root words

The word corona goes back a long way, and has cognates in many languages. This is because corona is Latin for ‘crown’,

which sounds like the ancient Greek κορώνη (korṓnē) for ‘curved’,

but means more like the ancient Greek κορυφή (koruphḗ): ‘garland, wreath or crown’.

The two Greek words look and sound a bit similar, but are not identical.

κορώνη sounds like corona and actually means all kinds of things which are not crowns but which have hooked or curved features. For example: crows, door handles, the tip of a bow on which the string is hooked, the curved stern of a ship, but also various other examples.

κορυφή, which is nearer in meaning, also indicates the top of a head or a mountain, the vertex of a triangle or a most excellent thing.

You could see how both words could combine in people’s minds to mean a physical crown. A curved reward for excellence, placed on the top of someone’s head.

File:Bust woman mosaic Met 38.11.12.jpg - Wikimedia Commons — Corona glory

I couldn’t stop there though.

As a biblical scholar, I wondered whether these Greek words appear in the New Testament at all. After all, crowns certainly do.

It turns out, they don’t. Not properly. If you want more on this, see ‘a diversion for etymologists’ below.

Perhaps the root of the word is not the way to look at this. Perhaps we should look at the word ‘crown’ itself in the Bible if we want to learn something interesting.

Crowns

This is, in fact, where the studying becomes more relevant and helpful.

The Hebrew of the OT and the Greek of the NT are full of examples of crowns and references to crowning. Overwhelmingly, these crowns have positive connotations.

Kings are crowned.

Esther receives a royal crown.

Mankind is crowned with glory and honour (Psalm 8), with love and compassion (Psalm 103), with everlasting joy (Isaiah 51) and with beauty instead of ashes (Isaiah 61).

Paul and James and Peter talk of crowns of reward for those who persevere (1 Corinthians 9, 2 Timothy 2, James 1, 1 Peter 5).

The most startling crown though was the crown which Jesus wore in the gospels.

It was not an athlete’s garland or a royal circlet. It was a cruel crown.

A crown of thorns. A crown which mocked him and humbled him.

A crown I would never want to wear.

A crown, however, which arrests the attention of all who look at it. What is that doing there? A reverse crown. An anti-glory moment. Pure humiliation.

We’ve just experienced the most unusual Easter of our lifetimes. A crowned virus threatens us and mocks our normal routines. Those in power are shown to be as weak as the rest of us, and the new heroes are the small people in society. The ones who keep us alive, fed and resourced.

Coronavirus has turned society upside down and shown us where crowns truly belong.

Not with the strong, but the weak, the humble and the ones who love at all costs. Where we once wanted to celebrate the biggest and bravest, we find common respect for and applaud those who give everything for others.

A crown of thorns is not a sign of humiliation when you consider it properly. It is a sign that God comes alongside those who offer everything and does exactly the same.

Personal Reflection | “believe, teach, and confess”

A diversion for etymologists

The koine Greek of the New Testament uses two other words for ‘crown’. Most of the time στέφανος (stéphanos) indicating a reward, and a few times in Revelation διάδημα (diádēma), a royal crown.

In Luke 12 ravens feature as a topic for consideration: even without sowing or reaping they are fed. The word used in the Greek in Luke is κόρᾰξ (kórax), cognate with κορώνη – the nearest you’ll find to corona in the New Testament.

I did find that in the Greek translation of the Old Testament – the Septuagint – which predates the New Testament writings, our two Greek corona terms are used a handful of times.

κορώνη is used in Jeremiah 3:2 where the word actually refers to a kind of highwayman. Not particularly helpful, you’d suppose. It is possible that a highwayman is being compared to a crow or raven, of course, reaping where it did not sow.

κορυφή is found six times in the Septuagint, each time used to translate the Hebrew lemma root רֹאשׁ (rosh) demonstrating some variations in meaning found across both words:

the summit or peak of a mountain (Exodus 17: 9,10; 19:20)
top of the head (Genesis 49:26, Deuteronomy 33:16)
the head itself (Proverbs 1:9).

Lovely. What does all this prove though?

It tells me that the roots of the word ‘corona’ do not have a helpful biblical background if you want to prove anything. There is not even a clear connection with רֹאשׁ as this lemma is used 599 times in the OT, and only translated to κορυφή on six occasions.

The Myrrh and The Gold

Jan 6, 2019Jan 5, 2019 ~ Lucy ~ 1 Comment

Last year I was published twice in anthologies produced by the Association of Christian Writers, which was a great big step for a fledgling writer like me. It helped my writing esteem enormously and gave me a feel for some of the other elements involved in producing a book; behind the scenes several friends worked long hours proofing, editing and typesetting. When I got my copies I learned about marketing and selling dozens of copies of each.

Click on the links below for the Kindle versions. Print copies are available too, and I have one remaining copy for anyone local to me who asks quickly enough on the Christmas book.

As I was researching and writing about frankincense for Merry Christmas Everyone, I considered also writing about the other two gifts the Magi presented to Jesus in Matthew 2. Getting under the skin of a biblical passage is a real passion of mine, and presenting information in original ways. I had written a poem about frankincense, which is a dried resin used for lots of purposes, but principally known as a fragrant material for burning in religious ceremonies. If there was intended meaning behind the gift, as many believe there was, the symbolism may well have concerned priesthood.

The symbolism of gold is far easier to connect to, as we recognise its potent regal connotations across many cultures and times. Gold represents majesty, honour and treasure.

Myrrh is a more strange material; it is also a gum from a tree, and produced for medicinal and religious purposes, but it has a strong association with ancient embalming, and has traditionally been held to represent the importance of the death of Jesus as a sacrifice.

Strange gifts for a young child, and certainly things to give Mary reason to ponder. Each of these elements were present in prophecies about the coming Messiah in the Jewish scriptures, and each featured in the way Jesus lived his life on earth. A king. A priest. A sacrifice.

Frankincense, growing in Socotra Island, Yemen

You’ll need to get hold of a copy of Merry Christmas Everybody to read my poem in there about frankincense, but here to complete the set are the other two poems.

May you have a blessed and joyful Epiphany!

The Myrrh

The soldiers showed no mercy when they came
and murdered David’s sons inside our town;
the orders of an angry king to blame –
despising any who could take his crown.

The merchants saw them first, as daylight broke:
on horseback, wearing armour, wielding swords;
the little boys were sleeping. We awoke
to screams and murmured prayers and broken cords.

The mothers who had fed these sons from birth
(their hopes and futures, joys, inheritance),
traded their blessings and exchanged young mirth
for myrtle baths, and wept at the expense.

My God, my God, do not forsake these ones,
whose myrrh and tears embrace their precious sons.

The Gold

We were given gold
and told to leave the land of Egypt,
so we ran from slavery
bravely, fearfully, tearfully,
carrying our treasures close to our hearts.

And journeyed into furnaces of sand.

We learned in pain that gods of gold
had not received us, saved us.
Melting
in our shame,
we learned the Name alone
– not gold –
was pure,
bright, heavy, sure,
carrying His treasure close to His heart.

We built a tent and used our gold
to show our gratitude.
We covered all the wood –
made ornaments and bells,
to show our worship for our King.

He took us from the furnace to the land.

The tent came too. But,
so confused by gods of other clans
we looked to gold for answers,
carrying our hearts close to our treasures.

Measuring ourselves with others.

We want a king!

You have a King.

No – a king like all the others.
Give us a king.
With a crown.
A crown of gold.
We’ll build him a gilded palace.
We cannot see our King.
How can he save us?

I will give them a king. A boy from Bethlehem
who carries me close to his heart.

Our kings had golden crowns
and splendid rooms
and saved us sometimes.
And sometimes broke us.

There was a golden temple too
(our King was there).
But other temples grew
and who knew what was true?

Until armies came from the East.

They took our gold,
gold from our temple,
carried it close to their hearts,
back to their temples where they worshipped the stars.

We want a king!
A king who will save us.

I will give them a king. A boy from Bethlehem
who carries me close to his heart.

We journeyed from our land, as slaves again.

Our captured hearts sang songs of times of gold,
and how our King had saved us once before.

And when our hearts, refined, were moved to Him,
He took us home.

And we were given gold,
restored to us,
and told to build our land again.
Bravely, fearfully, tearfully, we went,
carrying our Treasure close to our hearts.

Humbled and tested, and tested again, and humbled.

More kings, and battles, and languages and rules
and every king so hungry
for power, wealth
or taxes.
Our humble heads hung low –
we didn’t see the star
that told of Treasure coming to our hearts.

They came with gifts of gold.

Giving up giving up

Feb 14, 2018 ~ Lucy ~ 1 Comment

Ooooh, it’s Lent.

And today it’s also the Feast of St Valentine, which conveniently has Lent right there in the middle of it.

Or, if you like, A loveseat tent sniff, which is a useful anagram for the day.

Not often that Lent starts on Valentine’s Day, and as Easter Sunday falls on 1st April, this year Lent is bookended with love and joy.

I like that.

A lot of people I know try and discipline themselves over the season of Lent by giving something up. While their efforts are laudable, sensible and often far too health-conscious for regular humans like me, I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of refraining from something I enjoy and feel nourished or sustained by, unless I feel convicted by God to do it (i.e. fasting, from food, drink, social media or the like). There are times when God asserts his place by insisting on our attentions. Food, drink, even facebook, are not to become more important than God. But neither are those other precious things in life: partners, children or oxygen. And while I put God ahead of my husband, my children and the air I breathe, I don’t honestly think he is asking me to forgo them for six weeks. The family may be a little confused and upset, for a start.

Fasting has its place. Giving something up for Lent often has its place when God convicts us, but if it is about a personal detox, it is not a spiritual endeavour. Perhaps some people, in their earnest desires to improve themselves, have made ‘giving up’ a bigger deal than ‘getting close to God’. They want to see whether they can manage to accomplish something valuable but difficult. Great. For me though, I want a closer relationship with God. Sometimes he will want me to give something up. Sometimes he will want me to take something up.

For me, Jesus took up human flesh and frailty. For me, he took up the cross. In my experience, God has been wonderfully generous through the many ups and downs of life; multiplying grace and love over and over. He has sometimes put barriers up, but these have been wise and reasonable, even when I did not like them. He has sometimes allowed times of pain, but his presence has been close and his promises have endured.

In Jewish thought, the idea of stopping on the Sabbath and not working is not viewed as negative, but positive. The Sabbath rest is a proactive feasting and renewing time. Our best celebrations do the same.

So I will give up giving up. This Lent I am going to try finishing a few tasks.

I want to finish sorting the children’s artwork from the past ten years.
I want to finish getting the garage in order.
I want to complete several books I am in the middle of. And get promised book reviews to Amazon.

I am a great starter of tasks. Now I am going to learn to be a great finisher of tasks too. God has shown me that he continues with me, though I am still a work in progress. He will complete the task and what he starts, he finishes.

What about you? Have you got any tasks you are hoping to complete over Lent? Or any interesting Lent activities or fasts you are taking part in? Do comment below!

International Poetry Day

Mar 21, 2017 ~ Lucy ~ Leave a comment

I felt compelled today to edit and republish a poem I first put out three years ago on my personal blog jamandgiraffes, in honour of International Poetry Day and because Easter is coming. Spring is now here and while flowers smell of hope and joy, Easter tells a more humbling story and I had been looking back at the gospels and wondering what it all smelt like. Feel free to use this, although if you do, please do credit me.

Smelly Week

It all started when the jar of nard parted
Jarred, barred, open-hearted, broken-hearted,
What a strange smell, filling the house from roof to foot,
Smell of treasure, smell of death (tarted up).

Then branches waving in the king, palms up, palms down
Crunching under simple hooves, hay, swaying fresh and fuzzy.

Smelly feet, incomplete, bread and the vineyard and olives and torches –
Feast or final meal, more blood, more fire and the plaintive crow crow crowing.

Unknowing. Smell of fear, of sweat, of thorns and wood,
Smell of your trade, made rough, tough nails rusty, musty dust.
Smell of pain, again, again, again, sweat, blood, vinegar and hyssop.
Hyssop? Cleanse me too – blood rolling like tears, metallic, organic to the ground.

Bound, in myrrh, in aloe, from head to toe, so so dead. No!

No.

And then you said ‘why are you crying?’

And my world of tears and mud and blood split open and I breathed a different air. It smelt of life.

And it smelt good.