A time to serve

God has put all things under the authority of Christ and has made him head over all things for the benefit of the church. (Ephesians 1:22 NLT)

Nostalgia returns with the mists and with the smell of milk warming on the stove. My grandmother had a dented saucepan with a spout, in which milk was warmed while her coffee was brewing. It was a ritual, one of many witnessed by a curious little girl in the sanctuary of Oma's kitchen. Her hands were like little birds, small and agile, graceful and focused. When you ate or drank from her "keuken" it tasted of warmth and kindness and an unhurried type of care. Outside the back door a tall tree whispered in the breezes on summer days, and it's leafy canopy was a place of refuge and secrets. My grandma would nervously try to coax me from this lofty playground with treats, and needless to say, it always worked. Where my mother's cooking was wholesome and simple, my grandmother's kitchen was a place of delights. As a young woman she worked in the kitchen of an affluent Dutch family. Later in life, with a family of her own, she and my grandfather packed what they could of their meagre belongings, along with their doubts and memories, and set sail for the land of opportunity - South Africa.

In the home where I came to know them, these memories regained a life of their own again, and one could sense, smell, taste and feel the things they missed of their gentle homeland. My "Opa" painted pastoral Dutch landscapes in his small studio set at the back of their terraced garden. A soft spongy lawn covered the gentle slope above the house, flanked by standard rose bushes and flowering shrubs, my grandfather's delight. As small children we loved to lie down right at the top of the slope and then simply let ourselves roll to the bottom of it, where we would lay in heaps of giggles and watch the clouds drift by. It was a time when everything seemed so simple to define. Shared times were unhurried and meals where hour-long affairs around a table that could be extended to accommodate three generations. Everyone seemed to talk at the same time with Oma hurrying to and fro with platters and dishes of our favourite foods. It was like sitting in a tree full of Mynah birds, among a cacophony of chatter and laughter.

My thoughts have been filled with images and memories from the past of late. Mostly of people and places that have added depth and meaning to my life. What I realised as a result of all these musings is that it is those people who drew least attention to themselves, content to work "backstage", without a fuss or complaint, who's legacies have been imprinted on my mind. There were friends who showed me how to have fun and taught me not to take myself (and life) so seriously, relations whom have at times tested my patience and tolerance, only to melt my heart again with their sincere love. Family members and friends whom have shown me that strength lies in endurance and surrender rather than assertiveness.

I remember a particular encounter with a young woman in the "parkie" behind our home. She was sitting alone on a swing, her long brown hair covering her profile. She seemed so mysterious and aloof, beautiful and slim. I watched her from a distance, my envy growing. I was reaching my teens, rather plump, my skin was a mess, and my self-esteem at a record low. She must have felt someone looking at her, for she stopped her gentle rocking on the swing, tucked the tumble of hair behind her ear and looked up. My breath caught in my throat. Her face was bruised and swollen and tears flowed over her damaged face. I later picked up from family conversation that she was an ex-beauty queen, cruelly beaten by a jealous boyfriend. I have often been reminded of her, when I envy someone who seems to have it all.

There were the martyrs; people with haunted eyes and tight-lipped mouths. Trapped in the past where something went wrong. Their suffering or bitterness a banner for all to see. Serving a cherished hurt and letting all life and joy pass them by. As a young girl, I was too often drawn to these melancholy individuals, hoping that by trying to "fix" them, I could somehow find a way to make sense of the cruelty in the world.

But to come back to those few whom I have counted as "mentors" - who's words and actions I held out as the perfect example to follow. Years went by and one by one the perceived perfection of these beautiful humble people became marred. Strangely enough, it did not diminish my respect for them, only confirmed that one can only follow a human example to the extent of it's imperfection... (I hope that makes sense).

Some time during last week I was reading through Ephesians 1 as part of a Bible study. Paul writes to the Ephesians of all the spiritual blessings and riches and wisdom that we may partake of through Jesus. The verses seem to distill the whole New Testament's teaching on how Jesus was raised from the dead and placed on the heavenly throne, with all power and authority placed under His feet. He is at the most exalted position in the universe. He is there representing believers and governing the universe.

But then I stopped at the end of verse 22. God has put all things under the authority of Christ and has made him head over all things for the benefit of the church.

For the benefit of the church. Us. His body. Christ enjoys His position as head over everything for the church. He is there representing us, ruling the universe for the sake of the Kingdom, our inheritance. He turns it all upside down. His authority exists for the sake of service. Jesus' majestically uses His power and authority in the interest of His people.

Is there need to look any further for a faultless example of how to live? After all He endured at the hand of man, He sits at the right hand of God the Father and still longs to serve us. To do it all for our benefit. Would He do anything to harm his own body? I find that a such a beautiful mystery - that we are part of His body. Raised to life with Jesus through faith. 

Which is why I find it so deeply sad when I encounter media (on a daily basis) encouraging people to live in a way which serves the "ME" rather than the great "I AM". To do what brings you happiness, makes you better, richer, more content. Because you deserve it, they say. Truth is, the only thing I truly deserve is death.

But instead here I am, raised with Christ, seated in heavenly places with Him, with all the fullness and authority given to Him, resting in me also. With all spiritual blessings available to me, victory over all earthly battles and spiritual forces. Having all my wrongs buried and forgiven, all the chains and worldly claims broken for eternity. Blessed, favoured, deeply loved.

But I am part of a body, the church. Not referring to the people who gather in churches on Sunday, but the true church of Christ - his bride. Those few humble hearty lovers who have remained faithful to the truth embedded in Christ.

Has there ever been a time when it has been clearer whom we should serve? Even a life of service to others, or dedicated to loved ones, however noble it may appear, only has true meaning if done with love - for the glory of God. He uses His children to serve one another, since it is His good and perfect will. But not if done for the sake of redeeming myself or someone else - this only Christ can do. As part of a body, why would the one limb favour itself over another, when each one is uniquely valuable to the functioning of the whole? 

I am deeply thankful for all the precious people that God has brought into my life. But mostly, I am in awe of the way I see His hand in every detail of the lives of those who truly love, follow and obey Him. Whose threads have been woven carefully with mine, to create a tapestry of rich and varied colours and textures.

We are not able to see this whole glorious tapestry as it gains more lustre with each new colour added. But it thrills me to think that God is looking down and it brings Him such joy. It is our time to shine like stars in a lost and depraved generation, to bring hope, to bring life, to serve.


I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. (John 3:15)