Shards of glass

This was on the news yesterday. It seems that some areas of my country (the poorest areas of Brussels, usually - what a surprise...) are a cesspool of Islamic terrosist wannabes...

I couldn't help but weep. It grieves me that people can feel so much rage and hatred that they want to maim and kill. The world seems so full of violence, it's almost unbearable.

How can people be so convinced that some deity wants them to murder their enemies?

The Charlie Hebdo shooters were abandoned as children; the youngest went to prison twice. I don't mean to excuse them in any way, but I don't think people who are at peace with God, themselves and the world become terrorists. Western cities are rife with second or third generation immigrants from the Middle East or further, people who feel torn between two identities and cultures. People who can experience a sense of rejection because of their origins, all the more after terrorist acts. It's only too easy for them to be manipulated into becoming monsters, under the promise of paradise as a reward. Besides, violence and cruelty are one of the facets of human nature, and just like qualities, such dark dispositions can be nurtured to grow and take over someone's heart.

 I wish we could talk some peace and love into them, yet it seems we can't. I believe in "loving your enemies", but if your enemy threatens to destroy again and again and again, and if countless lives are at stake, what do you do? I read a commentator who said that the only thing we can do to stop terrorist attacks is to kill as many terrorists as we can, kill them in the Middle East where they train. Is that really the only answer? Each terrorist is someone's son, someone's brother, someone's friend. Think about that. Those left behind, if they cannot let go and forgive (and how hard is that: forgiving your enemy for killing those you love?), will want to avenge them, and destroy and kill. It never ends.

The cycle of violence grieves me and hurts me.

In The Green Mile, John Coffey, the black prisoner sentenced to death who has the power to heal others, says, "I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world everyday. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head all the time." 

These words resonate with me. Indeed, hatred and hurt and pain feel like shards of glass in my heart.

Sometimes, though, wee see tings that give us hope; like the "I'll walk with you" hashtag, or parents of murdered Israeli and Palestinians comforting one another despite being supposedly from opposite camps. I cling to news like this because I need to believe in hope. I believe in a God who gave his life for humanity's redemption. This, to me, is the cornerstone of hope in a better world. And I believe we are to take part in the healing of the world, each in our own way, no matter how small. I believe that somehow, all hurt will be healed and all tears wiped away. But how about those who refuse reconciliation and forgiveness? Are some people beyond healing, unredeemable? This is what makes me weep.

We need to talk about Charlie

A few days have passed, but I cannot stop thinking about what happened at the office of French magazine Charlie Hebdo. 

I wrote about it in the heat of the moment, yet I feel I need to say more. We all need to think about it, and to discuss the various issues it raises.

We all need to talk about Charlie.

We take freedom of speech for granted. It has been enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights:

"Article 18: Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance. 

Article 19: Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers." (Emphasis mine). 

Charlie Hebdo journalists and cartoonists oppose racism, the military, religions, and usually the government. They express these opinions in a satyrical way that most people have, at some point or another, found offensive. They profess a desire to make fun of everything and everyone, and to have a good laugh. Yet, they stir up debate and reflexion about issues they feel are important, which makes their contribution helpful. And above all, their right to do so is stated in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

On the other hand, caricatures of that kind often seem designed to provoke outrage and anger. They can serve a purpose to a certain extend, as I said above; but it's not always the case. It does, at times, feel like outright, wilful disrespect. I think we should all exercise our freedom of expression with wisdom. If what we express only serves to cause hurt or anger, maybe we should think twice. Maybe, just maybe we should exercise kindness as well as freedom. In French we have a saying: "My freedom stops where yours begins". It implies that if exercising my freedom is done at the expense of someone else, then I mustn't.

Those who disapprove of Charlie Hebdo's tone or ideas have a right to express their dislike. I'm a Christian; I have found some of their cartoons deeply offensive, while aknowledging their right to publish them. My own beliefs, as well as the beliefs of Muslims worldwide, are similarly protected by the Human Rights Declaration. We have a right to feel offended or hurt.

However, does that justify a violent response in any way?

No! A thousand times no!

I have found a paraphrase of my French saying on the web. "The right to swing my fist ends where the other man's nose begins." Its origin isn't entirely clear, but that's beside the point. To me, violence is never the right response. Man has tried to solve problems with violence since the dawn of times, and it has never worked - it only creates a vicious circle of hurt and destruction.

Moreover, what happened on 7 January only feeds the arguments of racists and islamophobes. I fear the impact this tragedy will have on the Muslim community: more alienation, distrust, and discrimination, leading to hurt and anger - a fertile soil for more terrorist wannabes, hijacked by clever hate preachers. Violence breeds violence. 

I hope the voices of peaceful Muslims will drown out the voices of islamic terrorists. I hope the voice of open-minded, friendly people will drown out the voices of racists.

To satirical cartoonists in the vein of Charlie Hebdo, I say: "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it."

To Muslims everywhere, I say: "I'll walk with you".

When the dumb and unhelpful trailer "The Innocence of Muslims" came out, Belgian cartoonist Kroll responded to outraged Muslims with this: "But... if I don't like a movie, I just don't go see it, that's all"

I am Charlie

Today, Islamic terrorists stormed the headquarters of satyrical French newspaper Charlie Hebdo and killed several people, including caricaturists. You can read more here.

Charlie Hebdo took its name from Charlie Brown, the lead character of Peanuts. It is known for its irreverence and it tends to be rather antireligious.

To be frank, I'm not a huge fan of Charlie Hebdo. I don't really like their caricatures, especially when they show blatant disrespect to the God I love and worship.

But...

I believe in free speech. I respect their right to their opinions and the way they choose to express them. And I would never in a million years use violence against them or any other people I happen to disapprove of or disagree with.

I really think that if you feel threatened in your faith by a caricature... then your faith isn't really worth much, is it?

I know why I love my God. I know what He is worth. I know He isn't threatened by cartoons, and I feel no need to defend him with violence.

I guess that's where I am completely different from extremists.

Looking back, looking ahead

I'm finally home after a 9 hour shift at work. I feel tired, yet serene. 2014 has had its share of ups and downs, and on the whole, I would say it has been a good year.

Despite the fact that my job doesn't really fit me, I have somehow managed to do it the best I could. I know my employer is happy with me, and I get the feeling he'd be sorry to see me go. I may not be able to fulfil all of the duties that come with the post, but he appreciates some other qualities I bring to the job - such as being able to deal with foreign customers! I get called whenever someone in the shop needs something but can't speak French, and most of the time, I manage (even though my Dutch is sketchy at best).

I have some truly lovely customers, like the lady who offered to drive me home when I was feeling very ill, or the one who gave me a 5-euro voucher "to thank me for my kindness and helpfulness".

Nicholas and I are really happy together. Our relationship is growing strong and committed. I feel extremely blessed: he is a kind, considerate and funny man; and we communicate very well.

2014 has also been a year of spiritual growth - delving deeper into the complexities of faith, the Bible, the person of Jesus and what a living relationship with him implies. I have joined an online faith community that I really value.

At some point in the past year, I set myself some goals. There were as follows:

- Pass my driving license. Done! It was a tedious and at times frightening process, but now I drive on my own and my confidence grows every day.

- Set myself up as a freelance translator. All the paperwork is sorted, but I really struggle to find customers. On the other hand, I have a lot of requests for private tuition in English, and maybe that is a better avenue to explore in 2015!

- Start saving up into a pension fund: done, after years of telling myself, "I really ought to do this!"

- Keep working on the stories I have started writing. Unfortunately, I have made little progress with this. However, I have set up two blogs that I update regularly, and I really enjoy blog writing.

So what would I like to achieve in 2015?

I would really like to find a new job. I need to set myself smart targets for this to work out: specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and timely. So at some point in January, I will sit down and translate this into a practical plan.

I want to keep writing, and especially, write in French on the subject of autism and Asperger's (which is the theme of my other blog, written in French).

And of course, I would like all my relationships to keep growing strong and healthy: Nicholas, my family, my close friends, and God.

I feel positive about 2014, and also about 2015. Bring it on!

What is church for, anyway?

Possibly the most significant aspect of my life is faith.

I told elsewhere how I came to it, and why I still believe despite going through hard times and wrestling with difficult questions. Faith is my breath of life; it's what motivates me, keeps me going, challenges me. It runs through my veins.

When talking about the Christian faith, soon enough the question of church comes into play. Is it compulsory? Is it useful?

When I first became a Christian, going to church was a normal part of my life. The reason for this was simple: it was my main social circle as an expatriate. When I went back to Belgium, I joined a church with my mother and joined a student Bible study group at university.

Back then, I thought church had two main uses: worship and teaching. I love singing as a form of expression, and worship songs enable me to express my faith and my love for God. Then there was the teaching: church was the main place where I could learn about Jesus, God, the Bible, and how I should live my life. This latter aspect seemed very important back then - preachers spent a lot of time telling you how to interpret what the Bible says about how you should live and what you should believe. I took it all in and strove to live up to it - usually not very successfully, but that's the topic of another post.

The community aspect of it was more complicated for me. I guess most people find it easy to mingle with similar-minded people. In my case, it's a little different. I need structure. If I can join a Bible study/discussion group, it usually works out. The purpose is clear: I know what to do, I love asking questions, learning, enquiring, throwing ideas around. The tricky time is on Sundays, right after the service has ended. People form loose groups and make small talk, and I never quite know what to do. I linger around, flick through some books, and try to find someone I know who isn't busy chatting to someone else. Most of the time I feel uncomfortable. I know now that this is because of my autism, but I didn't know that back then.

At some point in my life, I struggled with depression. That is when church and I started to have our issues. Church wasn't there for me in my time of trial. So I wasn't there for church, either.

Eventually, though, I overcame depression - and one significant aspect was that I found a church that helped me. Did it help me through teaching or worship? Nope. It helped me through community. They welcomed me in very practical ways: inviting me over for Sunday lunch or just for a cup of tea, offering genuine friendship, and supporting me in my struggles without judging me.

Since then, I have thought and read a lot about the concept of church.

The French word for church, "église", comes from the greek word ἐκκλησία (ekklesia), meaning "assembly".

I feel that is what church really is.

Church is not primarily a building. Church is not primarily a place of worship or teaching. Church is a community of people. My friend Mike put very simply what those people have in common: "Ordinary people who know someone extraordinary". We believe - trust in - Jesus. 

Another one of my friends, Robert, wrote about the hypocrisy of those who think coming to the Sunday service is enough. I tend to agree with him. Sunday service is not enough. A church I used to attend closed its service with those words: "The worship has ended, let the service begin".

Church is solidarity. Church is organising a Christmas meal for those in your neighbourhood who would otherwise spend that day alone. Church is ringing up someone who is going through tough shit, and listen to them ranting without interrupting them with unasked-for advice or trite words of wisdom such as, "God only gives you as much as you can handle". Church is supporting people and people supporting you; people helping you to grow in faith and in love, to grow into the person God intended you to be.

This is why I still go to church, even though I don't always agree with the teachings, or the songs are not as inspiring as I'd like: because of the people. Because they're my community, my family, warts and all.

Whenever you are kind to someone, whenever you lend a helping hand, whenever you pray for someone: you are church. Whenever you stand up against injustice and speak up for those who are suffering: you are church. Whenever you get together for support, you are church. Whenever you do all this, and you do it because of Jesus, you are church.

It is so much more than a Sunday thing.

Christmas

I guess I could write a long post about what Christmas is really all about. The incarnation, and/or love, peace, sharing, all of that.

But you know, lots of people have already written brilliantly about that.

So I'm just going to wish you all, my beloved readers, a fun, joyous, lovely Christmas. Enjoy your day, enjoy the winter holidays and time with your loved ones.

Merry Christmas everybody!

A chilly feel of 1933?

The Belgian Immigration office would like to be able to search people's homes without a warrant if they suspect they might harbour "illegal" immigrants. Theo Francken, the Immigration Minister, is looking into making this legal. Francken is from a party called N-VA (Nieuw-Vlaamse Alliantie - New Flemish Alliance), a Flemish nationalist and conservative party.

Such disregard for people's fundamental rights, violating their very home, terrifies me. Is my country governed by fascists?

I can only recall Martin Niemöller's words:

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak for me.