I am rather early this month, because I shall be away from the 13^th until just about the end.  I love my home, and I find it beautiful here every season of the year.  Spring with its lengthening days, new leaves, sheets of wild flowers, is full of hope, and a wide clean beauty that I think cannot be surpassed.

Then summer comes, with hardly any night at all.  I see the sunsets flame across the north, and can watch the burning orange clouds low over the purple of the mountains even at midnight.  The light on the water is bewitching.  The roses can never be praised enough.  The way they climb up into the great trees, then fall in garlands, twining themselves through the leaves and cascading down, is something I never tire of seeing.

But the glory of autumn is special for me.  To drive homeward around the curve in the road and see where the golden fields open up and sweep to the dark blue of the sea, almost stops my heart with wonder.  It catches me every time.  I love the great skies mounded with clouds in waves and towers of light, the roll of the shaven earth dotted with corn stalks.  The hedges are bright with berries: honeysuckle crimson and black, rosehips orange, hawthorn dark red, and rowans bright pillar box scarlet.  The Virginia creeper is touched with the luminous colours of fire.  Every now and then we smell woodsmoke in the wind.

And winter is exquisite too.  The frost is infinite in beauty — not that we get much before Christmas.  Snow paints the world in white — not every year, but most, at least for a day or two.  And the winter sky is breathtaking.  Then one can stand and stare at it and really see that space is infinite, and full of light.

All the same, I love to travel, because the world is teeming with new people, and also of old friends.  And it can be full of adventure as well, possibilities of learning, of sharing, and on occasions of teaching.

Perceived Enemies

Which brings me to my visit to the Edinburgh Festival.  That was fascinating.  I had booked to listen to two lectures, but unfortunately one was cancelled because the poor man could not get out of Beirut.  The other, however, was outstanding — a debate on demonizing the enemy, whoever that might be, but with particular emphasis on the currently perceived enemy of Islamic extremists.

It made me think very hard about the perceptions of “enemy” or “villain.”  We tend to be superficial in our judgment of people who do things that we see as bad.  Too often we do not wonder why, or look for understanding — and I mean seeing reasons and causes, knowing why, I do not mean excusing saying that it cannot be helped.  Very seldom do we ask how they see us, and if it is not in some ways similar, and perhaps equally superficial, and without knowledge of who we are, and why we do what we do to them.

The upshot of it all was to make me think harder not only about real people, but also about fictional ones, especially those that I am writing at the moment.  Therefore it was an immeasurably useful exercise.  I believe the final result will be not only wiser and more honest, more compassionate, but also very much better writing.

After Edinburgh I went on to London for interviews and a luncheon with a most interesting woman whom I had not met before, but whose work I admired.  Finally I went to Oxford for the annual mystery writers’ conference at St. Hilda’s College, which I enjoyed enormously.  I was Guest of Honour this year, and they treated me with the greatest kindness as they always do.

I was rather nervous because instead of presenting a paper, which is my usual practice, I had to give the after dinner speech at the banquet.  So many previous speeches have been hilariously funny.  I can recall laughing so hard I had tears running down my face, and my ribs hurt.  I can be mildly amusing, but not as funny as that.  I had to settle for a little laughter, but mostly to be encouraging and uplifting — I hope!  If I can speak about what I believe, why I write, and what I want to say, then I am on firm ground.

One paper I listened to had a passage in it that saddened me more the longer I thought about it.  This woman was speaking of family conflicts within the Old Testament.  She referred, among others, to the rivalry between Jacob and Esau, and Esau’s loss of his birthright.  She saw it as a piece of blatant trickery and deception, lying and cheating sanctioned by God.

Of course I could not interrupt her at the time, but I spoke to her alone afterwards, and explained it as I understood it.  Esau had forfeited his birthright — which was to be patriarch of his people, by marrying an Edomite woman, who had desperately ugly heathen beliefs and practices, including child sacrifice to the red hot brazen idol of Moloch.  How could a man, married to such a woman, become priesthood leader of his people, and father of the next patriarch?

She had never heard this part of the story, nor, I regret, could I tell her exactly where I had read it, it was so long ago.  But what saddened me is that she could believe that God approved and rewarded deceit.  I would have hoped that she would look at the story and say to herself, “This is morally wrong.  Therefore either I have misunderstood it, or part of the story is missing, or even plain wrong.  I will look further until I find the answer.” 

God Cannot be Wrong

I begin every questioning of something I don’t understand with, “God cannot be wrong.”  If something doesn’t make sense, start there, and work it out, backwards if necessary, until you find a solution that is sensible and morally wise and good.  Until you find one, however long that may be, accept that the story is incomplete.

I have met many good people who have been put off religion because they have been taught false doctrine and then, very naturally, come to the point where they say, “If this is what you believe, and what you admire, then I don’t want to be part of it.”  And you cannot blame them.

Which all leads me to wonder how many good people are looking for something they can believe in with a whole heart, and are put off because bad doctrine is repugnant to them, and the truth is misrepresented by those who do not know, or do not care, or have some personal agenda for believing one thing in particular?  And how often is it simply someone who does not know the answer, but is too proud to admit that, and would rather say something untrue than say, “I don’t know, but I’ll try to find out.”

How many great people are put off joining our faith by pieces of “member doctrine,” when if they heard the Plan of Salvation in all its simple, sublime beauty, they would leap at it?

How many people are put off by principles over-emphasized until the most important doctrines of loving God, and loving people on this earth on which we live, are overshadowed by cultural habits and customs that are pleasant, but in the end unimportant?

The fact is that we are ALL children of God, all had the choice whether to come into this life or not.  Once here we are all given the opportunity to learn whatever we need to in order to progress, often we are given chances more than once.  We all need to forgive and be forgiven.  We all have the chance, here or hereafter, to reach our fullest potential.  There are no exceptions.  There is no one unimportant, inferior, or who cannot belong.

No one is unloved by God, or should be trivialized by any of us.  Christ opened the door to everlasting growth and happiness for any of us to pass through, if we want to enough.  I think all the rest is just advice helpful to us to make our way, counsel for our good, warning where the pitfalls lie and of the cost of mistakes.

How many people are put off because some of us do not live the honesty, the diligence, the courage or the kindness we preach?  How often has self-righteousness, self-importance, self-praise, or self-anything else, been ugly enough to catch someone at a vulnerable moment, and send them away, often to where the water is tainted by teachings in which there is no true hope, no understanding of who we are and of who and what we may become?

Thinking about it certainly made me resolve to try harder to know the heart of what my faith is, so that I can teach it not only by word but by attitude, character and deed.  As shadows of all sorts deepen, I do not want to be caught wondering what I can cling to as true, floundering for the words to help others (and myself), and wishing I had years and years in which to sort myself out, and third and fourth chances at things, instead of doing them now.

I have today!  I probably have lots of tomorrows, but I don’t have one that is okay to waste.

I will not convert anyone; the Holy Spirit may.  I would like to be walking with Him when it happens, and to be of use.  Other people have been for me, and still are, time after time.  And how I need them — the speakers of truth, the comforters, the friends who believe in me and nurture the best. 

I pray I may be such a person for others.

May the Comforter be with you.