'I have taken up a challenge to ride a bike up Mont Ventoux, the ‘beast of Provence’, to raise money for projects that will contribute to the healing...' Photo: of Mnt Ventoux by Nick Wood on Unsplash
Action plan: Anne M Jones’s Thought for the Week
‘I have to accept the mystery of it all.’
For most of my life, I have felt repulsed by street-corner preachers screaming ‘Jesus died for you’. And, as a former child protection officer, I could never quite fathom how a father would sacrifice his son. I still cannot square these notions, but I have to accept the mystery of it all, perhaps an allegory for suffering in all its myriad forms.
I began to review my thinking recently, listening to Bach’s St John Passion soon after the death of my own son. That intricate, sonorous, magnificent work offers solace like nothing else. Bach was a man of profound faith, composing from a heartfelt place, communing in a way that only deeply spiritual people know and comprehend.
It was Jesus’ mother who discovered the empty tomb; he later sat with her in the garden. Who among we bereaved mothers has not felt that sense of our late child’s presence? The agony of personal suffering as akin to the crucifixion is alluded to by Sheila Cassidy, who was tortured as a political prisoner in Chile in 1973. The suffering of people in Gaza can also perhaps be viewed as a crucifixion: their sufferings will one day end and from that point hope will emerge.
I realise this sounds simplistic. Events like those of 7 October, which we never thought could happen after world war two, seemed like history had been turned back eighty years. But I went cold inside when I watched Benjamin Netanyahu say ‘Remember Amalek’. Amalek was the leader of a breakaway tribe of Jews upon whom non-stop revenge was wreaked until the tribe ceased to exist.
The seeming absence of human conscience among policy makers in Hamas or the Israel government is almost pre-historic. The lawlessness, ‘accidents’ in which so many innocents are killed, and famine, all make a mockery of international laws, agreements and UN resolutions. What is this telling our children? They will not forget.
Theologians speak of the paradox of hopelessness, situations from which hope emerges. I have to believe this to be true, which takes me back to the message of the crucifixion. Meanwhile, the daily news is so shocking that many people no longer watch or listen to it. Most people I talk with speak of feeling terrible pain, wanting to do something but not knowing what. The implications of this war get wider every day, with each new report seeming worse than yesterday’s.
For me, I can only contain the pain – no, the rage – of the bombings, the starvation, and the twenty thousand orphans, in one way. This is by activity, and I am so grateful that I am blessed with the health and strength to undertake it. I have taken up a challenge to ride a bike up Mont Ventoux, the ‘beast of Provence’, to raise money for projects that will contribute to the healing, restoration and psychological relief of children in Palestine. That way is not for everyone, but it is how I manage.
To contact Anne for more information email anne.150@phonecoop.coop.
