Before I dive into this weeks topic let me acknowledge the devastating tragedy that took place at Bondi Beach in Australia on Sunday 14 December, when during a Hanukkah celebration, two gunmen shot into the crowd killing 15 people and wounding dozens of others. Yes, Hanukkah is a time to celebrate the birthing of light in the midst of darkness – so it is all so incredibly poignant. Sometimes I comment on events like this, sometimes I don’t. There has been so much commentary around this tragedy that this time I will remain silent – not because there is not much that can and should be said, but because anyone who knows me even a tiny, tiny bit will already know how truly shocking and appalling I find this. Truly, truly awful – but for me, this is a time for stunned silence, lament and prayer. And that is not escapism. Sometimes it is the only way I know to help quietly change the world. And if you are unsure of how to respond, there is always a place for deep lament and prayer.
This weeks post…
I had a sleep test last night. It’s an interesting experience. What seem like endless electrodes are attached to various parts of your body to investigate everything from twitching legs, to sleep apnea, to rapid eye movement and the state of your dreams. Who knows what they will discover, but the reality was that despite the room being set to an ideal temperature and some gentle white sound in the background, it was very difficult to get to sleep. Having been trussed up like a Christmas turkey, I suspect my results will be dismal and they will conclude that I have every condition imaginable. While I was assured that I wouldn’t break anything if I moved and that staff would come in and replace any electrodes I detached, it was clear that the best way to navigate this experience would be to lie as still as possible and pretend everything was normal. I’m not going to pretend it was a triumphant success!
It did however remind me of a comment I heard which forms the basis of this weeks title: those who don’t move, don’t notice their chains. It’s a thoughtful insight – inviting many philosophical reflections about being trapped, or stuck, or held back, or being indoctrinated or… well, there are lots of options, but I will settle for just three.
Insight 1: You are an insider as long as you don’t question the status quo. Just go along with the common consensus, and you won’t notice those chain which only swing into action when they are tested. This is a tough one, and Jesus bumped up against it regularly. When he fed the 5000, his popularity soared (John 6:14-15), but when he suggested that costly discipleship might be required, the crowd evaporated (john 6:60-71). All was well when he said he embraced the law… except that he then interpreted it very differently. It was fine when he suggested we love our neighbour – but he pushed it much further when he suggested that the enemy might also be a neighbour. Teaching like that saw Jesus become the enemy… the Cross the cruel rejection of his constant reframing of reality. Prophets don’t usually belong, and sometimes that’s a price that has to be paid… You notice your chains when you start to push those limits.
Insight 2: Though “chains” is an emotive word, the sentiment can be experienced a lot more positively. Again, the Gospels provide an example. Think of Luke 15:11-32, where the prodigal son discovers that despite his unwarranted rebellion, he is still in the strong grip of the father’s love. Those “chains” of love held him through his lowest and darkest moments, and gave him the courage to return. In spite of all he had done, he belonged in the fathers house, and chains of love drew him back. Sometimes it is only when we pull away that we discover how tightly and wonderfully we are held. Though we are instructed to hold tight to all that Jesus has taught us, we are actually held by His love, held far move strongly than we could ever hold. It is a wonderful “chain” to be in the grip of grace.
Insight 3: You see things differently when you swing into action. You realise that years of inactivity have compromised your vision and left you only able to see things from a set location. Change the location, and your perspective alters. Rather than serve you well, your comfortable assumptions are often exposed as lazy and poorly considered. That’s why every journey is a risk. You could change dramatically. Of course when you realise your chains are holding you back, you have a decision to make. Do you quietly abandon the trip (and if you do, the chains will stop pulling against you), or do you find a way to break free. Those who don’t move, don’t notice their chains, but their sense of freedom is an illusion.
No doubt I could say more, but a rotten nights sleep has left me a little weary. I tried not to wriggle against my electrode chains – and my, not moving is really exhausting.
Nice chatting….
Please help extend the reach of this blog by reposting and forwarding to others. You are free to reproduce material from the blog with acknowledgment of its source.
