Tuesday evening and I ask my hosts, "Papa Bishop" and "Mama Bishop" as Bishop George and his wife Florence are known here, to explain why the girls in school found something I said so funny. It is always nice when people laugh at your jokes but when they roar with laughter at something normal you do begin to feel a bit self conscious.
Today we have been visiting schools. It has been fantastic to see the provision for the young people made by the diocese in various forms. It is simple, almost basic, and yet thorough, careful, full of hope and promise, and fantastic in its provision. A quick sum tells me that I have seen a couple of thousand young people being educated today, and that is a small selection of the work that the diocese does in this area. The schools, right from what we would call Junior age offer boarding, and by the time you get to secondary age almost everyone would sleep at school.
In every place, whether younger or older the pupils have sung for me in a manner which has been as moving as it is hauntingly beautiful. The expression of joy and hope is palpable as they join in with voices and clapping in an impromptu concert that would put many of our prepared musical offerings to shame. I have spoken to them of far-off places and the snow that has fallen and I can see them wondering what kind of place this can be, and yet we are in the same family when we belong to Jesus. This evokes smiles and evident joy and I think the broad familial culture here lets them understand this unity more clearly than I do even when expressing it.
In the girls secondary school I began by telling them that I had a daughter, too, a daughter who was the same age as some of them and also at secondary school. I told them that, to me, she was the most beautiful girl in the world because this self evident truth has taught me more than I can express about the love of God. If a feeble human father like me can know love like I do for my children, how much more powerful is the love of God?
And that's when it happened... "to me, she is the most beautiful girl in the world." was followed by giggles which grew to proper laughing from the whole school. What had I said? Did my words have a meaning of which I was unaware? This is a very proper culture, at least in public, so I could not imagine I had said something rude or the girls would have been uncomfortable not amused. Besides, their laughter was innocent and kind, not mocking or crude.
So, at the table tonight I ask and I am told that fathers do not tell their daughters that they love them here. They do not say that they are beautiful. Fathers are often away and they don't express emotion. My exposing my heart was a shock, which was so out of kilter with experience it was funny.
We can think what we will in response to that, but this has made me reflect deeply, for it is not only those girls who do not know that they are loved. It seems to me that the same is so often true of us as Christians. Deafened to the Father we interpret life through lenses that appear at hand and come to our own conclusions about His love... and often our laughter is very different to that which I experienced today.
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