As summer is drawing to a close, it's time to bring in the harvest of produce that grows so easily and abundantly here in southern Spain. Because all of our ministry team are out of the country at the moment, no one is picking all the figs that grow in the garden of Villa Eden. So I asked a neighbour if she'd like to come on a fig picking outing with me. We took the dogs for a walk in the countryside, picking figs and pomegranates that were growing wild. Then we headed back to Villa Eden to pick the figs that were growing on the trees there in the garden.
Then, as we were filling out baskets with figs, Matilde noticed that all the almonds were ready for picking too. With great enthusiasm, we got a shopping bag and began to fill it with kilos of fresh almonds. Mati picked the ones on the lower branches, while I found a broken chair that had been thrown out, and used it to reach the almonds growing on the higher branches. Well, I underestimated the weakness of old plastic that has been perishing in the sun; I'd only been harvesting for twenty minutes, when suddenly there was a horrendous CRACK and I found myself falling right through the seat of the chair and scratching myself to bits as I landed clumsily on the soft soil below. Fortunately, no serious damage was done.
We took time also to pick some walnuts, before I had a quick swim and doctored all the scratches down my shins. Thrilled with the adventure of picking several kilos of fresh almonds, Matilde is going to make me "ajo blanco" - a cold almond and garlic soup that is a speciality of these parts. If you'd like to know how it's made, click here to find a recipe (in Spanish) by one of our well known TV chefs.
I think I almost committed a crime this weekend. When I was walking the dogs yesterday, on one of our usual routes in the countryside behind my house, I noticed to my displeasure that someone had tied strips of pink plastic to many bushes and stones along the way. Fortunately, before I started to remove all the offending "litter," I realised that it must be be for the Spanish Mountain Biking championship, which is being hosted by Alhaurín de la Torre this year.
The cyclists left Alhaurín at 9 am this morning, and they're weaving their way across mountain tracks, almost to the towns of Alhaurín El Grande and Mijas, climbing to an altitude of 2,800 metres, before heading all the way back and finishing here in Alhaurín de la Torre again. It's a total of 72 kilometres.
So, this morning I had to adapt my route with the dogs, as 800 cyclists from all over Spain were beginning to follow the mountain track that we usually take for our morning walk. For two years now, I've been walking my neighbour's dog, Buba, on those mountain paths every morning and evening. (Buba's the white dog in the picture above - a cross between an English Setter and a Catalan Shepherd dog.) More recently, I've also been taking a puppy with us. Another neighbour found Nelson, a little black labrador cross, lying almost dead in the fields; they adopted him and he's now four months old, so I'm doing a little obedience training with him.
I'm actually very thankful for the dogs. I've had a lot of challenges with arthritis and fibromyalgia pain in recent years, and getting out with the dogs every day motivates me to get some exercise and not allow my joints and muscles to seize up. The dogs have been God's gift to me... even though their owners think I'm the gift, because I've been exercising and training their dogs.
This morning, we saw the first of the cyclists go by on our usual trail, already breathing heavily as they pedalled up the slope. I felt very content to be a dog walker and not a cyclist; it's much easier to enjoy the lovely setting when you're proceeding at a leisurely stroll and not a strenuous uphill cycle.
It's been three weeks since my last blog post. No, I didn't drop off the planet; the reason for the long silence is because my parents, now both in their eighties, arrived for three weeks of summer holidays. Although I continued with some ministry responsibilities (mainly coaching sessions and emails relating to upcoming training courses) my main jobs over those three weeks were tour guide, driver, hostess, cook and dishwasher :-)
It was lovely to have time with Mum and Dad, and to be able to visit some of the beauty spots and nearby towns, both coastal and inland, here in southern Spain. We had use of a larger car while they were here (mine is tiny!) which made it much easier for us to transport my Dad's mobility scooter on our day trips to different places. I've just dropped them off at the airport this morning, and they'll be back in Scotland by this afternoon.
To what extent does a parent carry responsibility for the sins and poor choices of their offspring? In 1st Samuel chapter three, we learn that, as a small child, Samuel had brought a prophetic word of judgement to Eli for his failure to discipline his sons. (Read here) Now, in chapter eight vs 1 - 5, we read that in his old age, Samuel's own sons were greedy and corrupt. In fact, this seems to have been one of the factors involved in the Israelites' decision to ask for a king; they didn't want Samuel's sons to be their leaders.
Was this due to Samuel's failure as a father? Did he fail in this crucial role, just as much as Eli did? (We don't know anything about his wife, and we don't even know who raised Samuel himself after Eli died, or what sort of model of parenthood he grew up with.) Did he give himself to his prophetic role as the expense of his fatherly role? Or was it just one of those sad situations where children choose to go their own way, even despite the good example of their parents?
The Bible doesn't tell us the answer to that question... but it does give us a little more insight into the people's demand for a king. Read on in the post below...
From the Lord's perspective, in 1st Samuel chapter 8, the people were rejecting God and not simply rejecting Samuel's family when they asked for a king. God told Samuel to warn them about the consequences - about the taxation and other costs and responsibilities of having a king... but the people still replied, "We want to be like the other people around us."
What a tragic ambition! The whole point of being the people of God is that they were special, chosen, supposed to stand out as being different from the people around them. But no, they wanted to be just the same as everyone else.
How much is that still a temptation for God's people today, in the 21st Century? How willing are we to be different in the way we think, speak, dress and act? Or how much do we want just to "fit in" and be like everyone else? It's been two thousand years since the early Christians were encouraged not to conform to the world around them, but instead to allow God to completely transform them so that they stood out as being noticeably different from other people. (Romans 12: 2) When we really search our hearts today, are we eagerly seeking transformation or do we prefer conformity? Do we dare to be different or do we want to be just like the other people around us?
Like the Israelites' decision to have a king, conformity can be our choice... but it will always come with a price tag.
In chapters four and five of 1st Samuel, a non-human player takes centre stage. The Ark of the Covenant represented the presence of God in the midst of the people of Israel, but they were about to discover that it was no lucky charm and could not in itself compensate for the people's failure to live their lives every day with an awareness of the presence of God.
After being defeated in battle by their enemies (the Philistines), the Israelites decided, somewhat presumptuously, to bring the Ark of God into the camp, as if its mere presence would work some sort of magic and give them victory the next time round. Well, it certainly had a psychological and emotional impact: the Israelites' shout of joy was earth-shaking, and the Philistines were filled with panic at the news.
But the symbolism of the Ark could never be a substitute for the reality of living in dependence on God's Spirit (no more than wearing a cross or carrying a Bible could do that for us today.) The initial emotional impact backfired for the Israelites. Perhaps it made them too cocky. It certainly made the Philistines fight harder than ever before and win another resounding victory.
The shameful ending to the story was that the Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of God's presence among them, was captured and carried off into enemy territory - a sobering reminder that, even though nothing and no one can rob us of the true presence of God, they can certainly rob us of material things that are only a representation of the reality.
The Ark may have been only a symbol, but the all-powerful God was not going to allow that symbol to be abused and disrespected. When the Philistines placed the Ark in their temple, next to the idol of their own god, the statue of Dagon fell down before the Ark of God and ultimately smashed into several pieces - a clear message that there was no equality between these two "gods."
I find deep symbolism in the fact that Dagon's head and hands were broken off - a powerful message that this pseudo-god had no mind to think with and no power to act.
Everywhere the Ark was taken, it brought disaster for the Philistines - another clear reminder that outward forms can never be a replacement for our obedient dependence on the genuine presence of God in our midst.
(Before too many months had gone past, the Philistines became desperate to return the Ark to the people of Israel.)
In the early chapters of the Old Testament book of 1st Samuel, we meet a character called Eli, who was a priest in God's tabernacle at the time. I have to confess that I've always thought of Eli as one of the "bad guys" - one of the negative examples that the Bible gives to us as a warning for our own lives. This week, however, when re-reading the first four chapters of 1st Samuel, I found myself wondering if Eli was basically a "nice" guy and whether his misplaced "niceness" actually played a part in his downfall.
Eli makes his first appearance in chapter one, when Hannah is praying in the tabernacle. He's not very discerning (he thinks Hannah is drunk), but turns out to be quite compassionate; once he realises her distress, he blesses her prayer without even knowing what she was praying for. Again, this was not very discerning, but it shows that he was basically a kind man. Some years later, he is willing to take Hannah's child into the tabernacle and raise the boy as his own, so that the mother can fulfill her vow to the Lord.
Later, in chapter 3, when Samuel first hears God's voice, we see that Eli (although a little slow to catch on) is ultimately sensitive enough to recognise that God is speaking to the boy, and he's humble enough to accept the rather harsh message that God spoke through the child. All in all, he's shaping up to be a kindly, grandfather-like figure..... Or is he?
If we read these chapters carefully, we can see that Eli's "niceness" and indulgence played a big part in his downfall and in the destruction of other family members too. It led to a situation where he didn't discipline his own sons or teach them to be responsible (see chapter two) and this created an environment where Hophni and Phineas abused their priestly roles - sleeping with the young women who served at the entrance to the tabernacle, and stealing consecrated meat from the sacrifices that people brought (which meant, in effect, that they were stealing from God, as well as stealing from the people.)
No parent begins by letting their kid steal from others or have sex right under their own roof. No, it begins much earlier, by giving them whatever they want, never correcting them, and always letting them have their own way. God sent a prophet to rebuke Eli and to point out that his seemingly minor character flaw of indulgence was not only a serious case of misplaced priorities, but was also a sin of idolatry. "Why do you give your children more honour than you give me?" God asks him, in 1 Sam 2: 29
The sad irony of Eli's indulgence is that it wasn't only dishonouring to God; it was also harmful and destructive to his sons. His failure to give them boundaries and teach them responsibility ultimately led to their downfall and their death.
The sad ending to Eli's life shows us that he had been self-indulgent too. A lifetime of overeating had made him very overweight in his old age and, when he heard bad news and fell backwards off his chair, his great weight caused him to break his neck.
What a tragic ending to the life of a basically kind, generous, lenient and "nice" guy! Eli's indulgence is a warning to us that what might seem like niceness can actually be negligence and what might seem like lenience can actually be liability.
Then, as we were filling out baskets with figs, Matilde noticed that all the almonds were ready for picking too. With great enthusiasm, we got a shopping bag and began to fill it with kilos of fresh almonds. Mati picked the ones on the lower branches, while I found a broken chair that had been thrown out, and used it to reach the almonds growing on the higher branches. Well, I underestimated the weakness of old plastic that has been perishing in the sun; I'd only been harvesting for twenty minutes, when suddenly there was a horrendous CRACK and I found myself falling right through the seat of the chair and scratching myself to bits as I landed clumsily on the soft soil below. Fortunately, no serious damage was done.
We took time also to pick some walnuts, before I had a quick swim and doctored all the scratches down my shins. Thrilled with the adventure of picking several kilos of fresh almonds, Matilde is going to make me "ajo blanco" - a cold almond and garlic soup that is a speciality of these parts. If you'd like to know how it's made, click here to find a recipe (in Spanish) by one of our well known TV chefs.
