Unless you’ve missed my recent posts, facebook updates and instagram pictures, you’re probably aware that I am currently in Cambodia. If you want to know about my somewhat tumultuous return, read here. I’m about halfway through my quarantine. I want to point out that my quarantine experience has not been the same as everyone else’s. I have been very fortunate in the hotel I have ended up at. The food is pretty good and the location is amazing. The room is comfortable and I can’t complain really. So this is a day in the life of someone in a rather comfortable quarantine.
My alarm will go off. Depending on how kind the jet lag was to me and how well I slept, I might get up then. I might hit the snooze button a few times (by a few times, I might mean six times). Then I get ready for breakfast to arrive.
Sometime between those times, I will get a knock on the door and I will receive breakfast. This has been a wide range of things: fried rice, fried noodles, noodle soup, toast, omelette, boiled eggs, fruit. I even got two slices of cake with my breakfast one day! (I had the first slice for morning tea, then the next slice as a reward for not sleeping during the day.)
The time varies, but what can be guaranteed is this. If I’m not showered and ready early, the breakfast will come early and I’ll have to scramble to make myself presentable enough to answer the door. If I am up bright and early, I will have to wait for my breakfast.
Somewhen after breakfast, a little bag of coffee sachets, tea bags, bin liners and bottles of water will be hung on our door handles. It’s like waiting to open the gifts in your Christmas stockings.
I will probably chat with Kristi some point before the next part of the day at ten.
I have to go to the hotel lobby, with my mask on, for temperature checks. It’s quite good that we can actually wonder the hotel during the day. The lobby has a little shop, with snacks, a little coffee bar and wine. Usually I will take the ten flights of stairs down and up for a little bit of exercise.
10:00 – 12:00
Lunch will arrive. Again, there will be a knock on the door and the calls of “Hey-lo! Hey-lo!” You take your food and sign the clipboard. Lunch is usually quite substantial. Normally, there is a lot of rice. Then there are three dishes, often one being all veg, one veg and egg, one meat. You might get a soup or a sauce with it. Stir-fried cucumbers have been a particularly regular occurrence. You also get some fruit, watermelon, papaya or dragonfruit. I have probably eaten more fruit and vegetables in the last week than I did in the whole of 2020.
This time is pretty much your own. There is a Skybar on the roof with great views, so I’ve gone up there to take photos a few times. I’ve mostly kept myself to myself, though. I’ve been getting on with MA work mostly, sat on my little balcony. Sometimes I will just watch Phnom Penh go by. There is a very small backstreet opposite my balcony, which leads to a school. It’s funny watching the kids come and go – especially watching some of the boys annoy the other students. There’s also a Wat and the Royal University of Fine Arts. It’s great to just watch people come and go.
When I first arrived, the early afternoon was when the drowsiness really kicked in. However, I think I’ve managed to break that cycle a little bit.
Dinner will arrive! It is very similar to lunch in size and make-up. There have been a few days which have been more Western, with pasta or potatoes. But for the most part it’s been Asian.
Again, this is my free time and once dinner has arrived, there’s nothing else for me to wait for or worry about. I might have another wonder around the hotel, or might just watch a movie and relax.
There have been times when I’ve been really bored. I think it was the mix of jet lag and just being stuck inside. There are points during the day when you have no energy and your brain is a fog. But you know you have to stay up. When no one seems to be online or your internet is intermittent and can be a bit frustrating. Apart from this, I have quite enjoyed my little (but somewhat expensive) hotel break.
If you were to talk to people from different stages of my life, you’d likely get a very different interpretation of my character. These stages don’t have to be particularly far apart. Take two of my friends who I’ll refer to by their initials, K and S. K was a friend during secondary school and college. She knew me at the awkward teenager stage. S was a friend as university. She knew me at the awkward university student stage. (All my life stages are awkward, just at different points and in different ways.) If you asked K and S whether I was organised, the answer would be completely different. K would say not at all: I constantly forget things; I don’t keep deadlines well; I’m a scatter-brain. S would say that I was extremely organised: everything was submitted well in advance; I could handle a wide-range organisational challenges simultaneously; I managed my time well. A part of this is the massive effort I made in my first semester to get systems in place (I had a diary where I wrote everything. The receipts of my book loans were stapled inside. I had a cover-page template for all my reading notes where I kept extensive bibliographical notes so I knew the references to quotation with ease…)
Despite this apparent transformation, I think K would find it hard to believe that I’m considered to be pretty well organised by most people I’ve encountered in my adult life. (I’m still working on the tidy part…) So, when I read the first part of Mark 6, I sort of understand the situation Jesus finds himself in. I also understand the perspectives of those around him. It must be hard for those that knew Jesus as a child and as a carpenter to believe he was indeed the Son of God. In fact, I believe (and may be wrong) that it’s indicated somewhere that his brothers were very hard to convince and only believed after Jesus’ death.
My favourite verse, perhaps, of this part is verse 5: “He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them.” The fact that healing a few sick people is seen as unremarkable. Imagine if your complaint was “I only managed to do one miracle today. Yesterday, I could do fifty-six.” (I’m not going to get into the debate as to whether miracles still happen or not. But they do but might not necessarily meet our definition of a miracle—whoops, I got into it.) What is incredible here is that Jesus performing many miracles was the expectation. It just goes to show how incredible he actually was. Also, it makes me think about how Jesus is responsive to the wishes and attitudes of those around him. He doesn’t thrust miracles on people. He graciously allows them to accept them.
The questions it raises for me is what have I been unwilling to accept in my life? How have I stymied Jesus’s untold, unfathomable blessings through a hardness of heart? I am pretty sure that it has happened. Jesus is still good and patient and I am still exceptionally blessed. But, maybe there is more that I could be receiving if only I opened my hands and heart to accept it. I wonder if that’s the same for any of you?
I’m currently on day 3 of 14-15 days of quarantine at a hotel in Phnom Penh. This means that I am back in the Kingdom of Wonders! It did take quite a bit of effort (from various people including my long-suffering parents) to get me here.
Pretty much as soon as arrived in the UK in September, I booked flights back to Cambodia. This flight was taking the relatively simple and common route of Heathrow to Seoul, Seoul to Phnom Penh. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. There were all the other obstacles that prevented returning to Cambodia that needed to be sorted, chiefly the PCR swab test and having the results in the appropriate format. However, I got that all booked and sorted. That was reassuring.
Then December came and the UK started going into stricter lockdowns. This obviously caused some anxiety. However, because I was travelling for medical appointments and work, I still had legal reasons to leave my house and go to London. So, it seemed that it would be fine.
Then, it was announced that the UK had it’s own variant of COVID-19. Countries started closing their borders to the UK. First Europe, then, the kicker: Korea. This meant that my flight to Seoul was cancelled. However, because France had only shut its borders for a set duration, I would possibly be able to fly through Paris after this. So, my flights were changed to transit through Charles de Gaulle Airport.
I packed and sorted all my things. I reached London, staying a few nights to sort out my tests. However, it was announced that there would be restrictions to entering France even after opening their border. I wasn’t sure what this meant and whether it applied to those who were transiting through France. I would phone the airline. They said it was fine but I should check with the embassy. I rang the French Embassy in the UK and the UK embassy in France, to be put onto an automated system telling me to check the government website. I looked up the government website. The government website said check with your airline. I was on a never-ending loop. After searching through pages on various websites, and opposite to the reassurances of the airline that I could fly, I decided to cancel the ticket. Basically, UK citizens could only enter France if they had a reason to be in the EU. I wasn’t looking to go to the EU, so I couldn’t enter.
So, whilst also taking my COVID test and only having a few days to go, I had to search through all the possible ways to get to Cambodia. When I found a potential route, I then had to check the entry requirements for each country. Various countries were not possible (Singapore being the main hindrance) and others had transit visas and other hurdles. I finally found one through Doha and Kuala Lumpur. It meant a massive lay-over in Kuala Lumpur. We then discovered an airside hotel in the terminal building! That problem was sorted, so I booked a room in that.
Then, the day before I was due to fly, I got an email. The flight between Malaysia and Cambodia was cancelled. There were no other options, it was too late to go through the process again and the prices had risen prohibitively. The only option was to turn around, head home and start again.
With the potential of Korea opening up to direct flights from the UK, I booked another direct plane to Korea. This seemed to be going smoothly, until two days before, I went onto the airline’s website. There was a small ticker going across the top with a blink-and-you’ve-missed-it notification saying flights from London had been suspended. I phoned up the booking company to ask if this was the case. I explained that I was having a second rather expensive COVID test the next day and I needed to know in the next hour whether I should postpone the test or not. I asked them to check three times and they assured me that the flight was still running. We checked the Heathrow website and that suggested the flight was still going ahead.
At three o’clock in the morning, I was dozing in between sleep and wakefulness. I managed to form the thought that, because of the time difference, Korea would be beginning its day about now. If the airline had indeed cancelled its flight, I would have received an email by now. So I checked my phone. And there it was: the cancellation email. I knew there was little I could do at this point so I tried to go back to sleep. That effort was as successful as all my previous flight bookings.
At about 7:30 that morning, I had to leave for my COVID test. I had that drunken feeling after not sleeping well for a few nights. We drove the clinic through the grey, wintery, frost and fog. I arrived and the clinic was empty except the doctor doing my test. It was all done in about five minutes. The doctor even congratulated me on how well I did the test. (He didn’t know that internally I was screaming, “Oh God, please help me! Please, Lord, get me through this!”) I did struggle to use the card machine, mainly because I was still so tired.
Once I had arrived home and had a strong coffee in my hands, I started looking at potential flights. Now, in-between attempted flight number one the week previous and this second attempt, something significant had happened: Brexit. This meant that some routes previously available were no longer an option (mainly any through the Netherlands). That was another country to add to the ever-growing list of ‘places that don’t allow Brits’. After about an hour of searching, I finally purchased a new ticket. This was through Dubai, Seoul then to Phnom Penh.
It was Saturday and the day of the flight had come. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. My dad drove for the third time in two weeks to London and back trying to get me back to Cambodia. The roads towards London were mostly empty due to lockdown. It seemed too good to be true.
Heathrow was surprisingly full. There seemed to be a lot of travellers milling about, a lot looking confused and somewhat stressed. Quite a few people were trying to print various pieces of paperwork (such a health declaration forms) at a small shop in the corner of the main atrium. There were queues for some desks, but there were very few people waiting at mine. I went through the check-in process, which is more arduous now due to restrictions. “Do you have your test certificate? Do you have the correct visa? Which visa type is that? Do you have the receipt for your medical insurance?” I managed to get through all those. It seemed as if this was actually going to happen and it was going to be pain free!
“I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can check in your luggage all the way to your destination.” What? Apparently, because I was flying with two airlines, I couldn’t get the boarding passes for all parts of the journey or the luggage label all the way to Phnom Penh. Due to regulations, I wouldn’t be able to leave the airside part of any of my transit airports to pick up the luggage and check it in again. I was considering just throwing my luggage in the bin at that point and buying everything again when I arrived in Phnom Penh. However, after a bit of waiting and speaking to the flight supervisor, it was sorted. The check-in attendant told me that it was quite a stressful time and she had to deal with a lot of crying passengers. I didn’t tell her that if it hadn’t worked out, I may have been another one.
I still only had the boarding passes up to Korea. So, at this point my baggage was more likely to reach Phnom Penh than I was. It was progress and in the right direction. A few hours later, I got on my first flight.
The next bits of the flights were actually relatively easy. Apart from long queues for the health screening in Korea, both airports in Dubai and Seoul were pleasant. The cafés were open and you could wonder about without fearing COVID too much. I found the transfer desk in Seoul easily. I did have to get all the paperwork out again, answer all the questions and hand over a large wad of money to be counted and checked. All was in order. I got on my plane and was on my way to Cambodia.
The Cambodian side involved very long queues and was naturally a bit chaotic. However, as I had all the paperwork sorted together, whenever I got to the desks, I was done in about 2 minutes every time. Then there was the queue for the tests. This again was relatively simple. The test was done. All I had to do was get to my hotel. I was practically there. No more problems. No more difficulties. No more confusions. So I thought.
As soon as I had my test done, a young Khmer man came and told me to follow him. He took my photo on his iPhone then dragged me through the crowds queuing for the bus. He seated me on my own, on the front of an empty bus. He did not explain why I was there, where I was going and why I was on my own. Staff outside the bus were obviously talking about me but I can’t lip read in English, let alone Khmer. I sent a few anxious messages to my parents before my phone battery died.
I was reassured when other foreigners started getting on the bus too. The bus was full; suddenly, I heard the word, “Come.” I was taken off this bus and just left to stand by the side of the airport while I watched it drive away. I was then taken to another bus and sat there, once again on my own. I was very tired and very confused. However, the driver said, “Your hotel is far from the other one. This one goes closer.” So, apparently, I was going to a hotel on my own.
After ten minutes of waiting in an empty bus, thirteen other passengers all boarded. They were all Khmer. Now, to some people this may have made them even more worried. However, all of a sudden I definitely realised I was in Cambodia. The Khmer were all chattering among themselves. Cambodians can quickly form bonds with others they haven’t met before and are often quite happy to chat with strangers. One of the staff in head-to-toe PPE came with a clipboard and asked the driver, in Khmer, how many people he had on board. The driver responded, in Khmer, “Thirteen Khmer, one barang.” Barang technically means ‘French’ but is used as word for foreigner. The man with head-to-toe PPE was standing right in front of me. Despite this, he asked (again in Khmer), where is the foreigner. To this I put my hand up. All the Khmer people laughed and it was now obvious I understood the conversation.
By the time we left the airport it was 2 am. The drive to the hotel was very Cambodian. The driver asked the passengers if they wanted food before the hotel (the food isn’t nice there, he told them). They ordered 6 packs of fried rice from a stall. The first attempt to park was thwarted by there not being enough room. The driver honked his horn a few times to no avail. We continued down the three lane road to do a u-turn, heading back up toward the airport. Upon nearly reaching the airport, we did another u-turn back down the road. More honking (despite the time of night) but we managed to stop. The fried rice was passed through the driver’s window and then handed to me. I then handed it to one of the Khmer passengers who distributed it to those who wanted it. There was one spare, so they let me have it for free.
The driver was chatting away, driving through red lights whilst honking his horn to show that he had no intention to stop. I was completely unfazed by this and just chuckled to myself. I arrived at my hotel (called Okay Boutique). I had another photo taken on the driver’s iPhone. And then I went to reception. All the instructions were given to me in Khmer. I understood all of it but forgot some details by the time I got to my room. I finally sat down, with my fried rice, relieved by the fact that I had finally made it back to Cambodia.
I was in Cambodia at the start of the pandemic, and I’ve been in the UK for three months now (as well as watching the two countries from afar). Therefore, I have a fairly good idea of what the response has been in both countries. I keep getting asked, “What is the COVID situation like in Cambodia?” I think the expected response is that it has been terrible, hospitals have been overrun, people are dead on the streets and there is no Cambodia for me to go back to.
This is not the case. Recently, there has been an outbreak of COVID cases in Phnom Penh. My dad told me he think the situation was about to get serious as about 300 people were found with it. I had to tell him that the figure was for the year. As of Wednesday 6th January, Cambodia has had 382 cases and 0 deaths. (The UK has had over 7000 times that amount; the US has had around 55,000 times that, for a little perspective.)
So why is it that Cambodia has not had as many cases? Or is it that COVID is actually rampant in the country and just not being reported? In the first few months I thought that might have been the case. Apparently, the British government did too, as it took until October for the country to be put on the safe corridors list. However, after a few months since we were first aware of the virus, the expected signs of an outbreak were absent. First, there was no massive uptick in funerals. Seeing as funerals are outdoors and very loud, it’d be hard to miss a pandemic. Also, there were no overwhelmed hospitals. I ended up going to various hospitals during the pandemic (mainly to visit newly born babies and their parents). They were mostly empty. The missionary community, working in vulnerable, poor areas and having networks throughout the country, heard nothing out of the ordinary. (Well, there were rumours, of course, but that didn’t reflect the actual truth.)
So, why is the situation so different in Cambodia than in the UK?
Closing schools and other public buildings
A single case of COVID-19 was discovered in Siem Reap, a tourist city towards the north of the country. Within days (or even hours), every school in the city was closed, as were cinemas, karaoke bars, sports centres and gyms. Again, after a case was discovered in Phnom Penh, all the schools in the country were closed. In this case, it was the headteacher of an international school who had just come back from a conference who had the virus. The entire school was disinfected and shut off from being accessed.
When a November community outbreak occurred, any affected business or public building (including a whole governmental department) was closed. Aeon 1, one of the largest malls in the city, was shut. Two clothing stores were closed. These have all since been reopened after being thoroughly cleaned.
Schools have been intermittently closed and reopened throughout the year. Private schools were some of the first to fully open. In order to do so, they had to pass an inspection by the Ministry of Education. The minister himself visited HOPE school and gave various recommendations. Hun Sen, the Prime Minister, essentially said that what happens in schools happens in the community.
When the few community outbreaks have occurred, the individuals involved are extensively interviewed. Their movements are traced and everyone that seemed to be in contact with them are tested. When the November community outbreak occurred, hundreds of people were tested. There were also hundreds of tests done in response to the visit by an infected Hungarian minister. As a result, the outbreaks are usually contained relatively quickly.
This was not done through a world-beating app or other system. Nor was it done on an Excel spreadsheet. It was done in person, using the tradition methods, and has been relatively effective.
Quarantining and closed borders
Once a positive case is detected, the person is immediately hospitalised. This possibly accounts for the low death rate as well. At about 1%, you could have expected that around 3 people of the 382 people infected to have died. Obviously, it’s slightly more complex than that, as many of those who had it were travelling into the country and therefore fit enough to travel. This means they were unlikely to be elderly. In many cases, people around those who tested positive, such as family or colleagues were forced to quarantine.
Cambodia also shut its borders to various countries and cities for a few months. (Surprisingly, UK and China were not on the list. This may be due to the importance of the countries in terms of trade. I’m looking at you, Marks and Spencers.) The land borders between Thailand, Vietnam and Laos were completely shut for months.
When the borders did finally open, quarantining and testing measures were extensive. You had to be tested before you flew, once you arrived and fourteen days later. After that, you had the all clear. Initially, if anyone on your plane tested positive, you had to be quarantined in a hotel. Otherwise you’d quarantine at home. However, as someone breached the at-home quarantine, everyone who arrives in the country has to quarantine in a hotel (unless you’re a dignitary).
South-East Asia is well known for its mask wearing. It’s something that has been seen as a practical part of life. You might wear a mask because the roads are dusty, or you have a cold. So, when the news stories started in January, masks were seen everywhere. This wasn’t seen as oppressive or a breach of human rights.
Another important factor in Cambodia is the amount of fear of the virus. Cambodia is well aware of its limited health infrastructure, its poverty and the vulnerability of its citizens. Therefore, the fear of the virus is high. When only a few cases had been reported, people were terrified of it. One impact of this is that alcohol gel, face masks and even visors were in the shops pretty much instantly. You could get them at bookstores, stalls on the side of the street and at the entrance to malls. The amount of PPE available was actually quite extreme, especially considering that the NHS had a shortage. The UK did actually end up buying PPE from Cambodia, which wasn’t a surprise.
Businesses were very proactive too. Many shops or restaurants put perspex screens up in front of the counters, as well as implementing temperature checks for customers as they entered (which is how the community outbreak was discovered), cleaning shopping trolleys, adjusting seating. A lot of businesses chose to shut during the first months and use it as an opportunity for refurbishments and training. A lot of this was not mandated, but strongly advised. Many businesses went above and beyond what was actually required of them.
There are other cultural aspects that have perhaps prevented the spread of COVID-19. Cambodians love to be outside. Celebrations such as weddings and funerals are outside in tents. People tend to eat outside if they can. Even if they are inside, the doors and windows are probably open, providing ventilation. During the rainy season, this is less frequent. However, the outbreaks coincided, fortunately, when the rains were less common. (In fact, during the first four months of 2020 it rained about five times in total.) A lot of shopping is done in outside markets, again mitigating against the spread of the virus in closed spaces.
There has, of course, been a huge cost due to the pandemic. The economy heavily depends on tourism, especially in Siem Reap. A lot of businesses have been decimated as a result. The informal economy of tuk tuk drivers, market vendors, souvenir sellers, tour guides has also been heavily impacted. Students have missed out on months of face-to-face schooling.
The government has been criticised, of course. A lot of the measures seemed unwarranted an oppressive. In order to prevent further community transmission, names were published of those infected. Also, misinformation via Facebook and social media has been cracked-down on . A lot of human rights watchdogs and charities have been critical of these moves.
However, it could easily be argued that the most important human right is the right to life, which Cambodia has secured for its citizens through its stringent measures. The quick, decisive (albeit excessive in some people’s opinion) actions are in stark contrast to that of the UK. The UK, a year in, is finally suggesting the restriction of entry at its borders and tighter quarantine measures. That horse may have bolted long ago. Furthermore, only this week have schools been declared a vector of transmission by the British government.
It is possibly Cambodia’s vulnerability and humility that has protected it so far. There has always been a realisation that the pandemic will cause huge problems for the country in many ways, but mostly through a significant death toll if it was allowed to spread. The Cambodians are a resilient people and I am confident the country will recover. Like most Cambodians, however, I am still cautious and apprehensive about what the pandemic could mean, especially if an outbreak did occur.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted on the blog or social media about updates. I thought I would do a brief one for now.
So what are you up to right now?
Not much! I’m finally getting a bit of a break after a hectic 2020. I finished my WEC course back in November, which was great. Then last week, I finished the first semester of my MA in Missiology. That meant submitting a 2,500 word essay on East Asia theology. So, that was pretty intense. I got my first essay back and I got a distinction, which was a relief. It means that I’m not clueless clutching at straws, which is what it feels like sometimes.
I also completed a safeguarding course in December.
I’ve also booked everything for my return to Cambodia. It may get a bit messy due to lockdown rules, but we will see. I will be getting a COVID-19 test in London on 28th December. I will (if I can) then be staying over in London to pick up the test ready to fly on 30th December. This means that by 31st December I should be in Cambodia.
What will you be doing in Cambodia?
Not much! For the first 14 days, anyway. I have to quarantine. I might be able to enrol in some online Khmer classes for then, though. So it looks like my daily life, for at least the first ten to twelve weeks of freedom will be like this:
Morning: Khmer lessons with Gateway to Khmer (G2K).
Afternoon: Khmer lessons with Language Exchange Cambodia (LEC) / lesson prep / MA lectures.
Evening: Teaching English with LEC.
After those 10-12 weeks, I will have hopefully finished year one of my MA and all the G2K courses available. After that, then I will probably make a new schedule of what my life will look like. It’s all a bit scary and looks a bit intense, but we shall see.
Oh, I’ll also be moving house! More on that later.
How are you feeling?
I think I’m most nervous about the getting to Cambodia part. With all the lockdowns and constantly changing plans it’s got the potential to be a headache.
In chapter 5 of Mark, we see what it means to usher in God’s kingdom and the power of the good news. Jesus shows his authority over evil spirits, sickness and even death itself. We’ve also previously seen how Jesus has power over sin. It’s Jesus’s power over all of these things that makes him the only candidate to be able to redeem us all forever. He has dominion over evil, sin and death; being able to irradiate it and free his people from it. Furthermore, this chapter reveals how Jesus removes everything that is impure.
First, we see Jesus remove a legion of impure spirits from the possessed man. The man lived in tombs, which automatically made him unclean, but he was also possessed by unclean spirits, which of course was the bigger issue here. He would have been a bloody, bleeding, dirty, ritually unclean , presumably naked mess. Jesus deals with this by allowing the impure spirits enter animals that were considered impure — pigs. (Note, that Jesus did not drive the pigs off the cliffs, the entry of the demons did.) The drowning of the possessed pigs echoed the drowning of Pharaoh’s army. Jesus was the new Moses, defeating the true enemy: the spiritual forces of evil.
In the second half of this chapter, Jesus interacts with two unclean people: one by virtue of her illness, the other because she is dead. However, Jesus is able to change their unclean states into those of being clean.
Therefore, if you ever feel too dirty, unclean or somehow damaged for Jesus, it is unlikely to be the case. You have to be more spectacularly unclean than someone possessed by a hoard of demons, someone who has been bleeding for years, or someone that is dead. So, it is reassuring that Jesus can restore us to cleanliness, no matter how bad it gets.
In Mark 4, we get various parables about preaching and the Kingdom of God. A lot of these are quite well known, especially the first, which is the Parable of the Sower. The interesting thing is, though, that other than the initial planting in each of the parables, the farmer does not do much else until harvest.
First, in the Parable of the Sower, the farmer only does that. He casts the seed. The rest of what happens is not really due to any effort on his part. The destruction of the seed is not because of faulty action of the farmer; there is no judgement on him for where his seed lands. Then the seed that does produce the crop does so because of the soil, not the efforts of the farmer. Even the multiplication of fruit seems arbitrary. Jesus says that some seeds produce crop thirty times the original, some sixty, some one hundred. What Jesus doesn’t tell us is the reason. He doesn’t say, because the farmer was diligent in his weeding, watering and fertilising. It just says the seed that fell on good soil produced crop of some number.
In another parable within this chapter, it seems to be making this point more explicitly. Again it uses an analogy of seeds. Verses 27-28 says,
Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head.
The passage literally tells us that it does not matter what the farmer does. The farmer could rest or toil, but the seed, which symbolises the Kingdom of God here, grows regardless. The farmer does not even know how it grows; we, if we are honest with ourselves, don’t know how the Kingdom of God grows either. The seed produces crop all by itself.
Of course, that does not mean that God does not use us and that we do not have a role in spreading the gospel. (This has been used as an argument against mission; it’s up to God not us.) But what it does tell us is that it is not under our control. So I don’t know why some churches are number obsessed when the Bible literally says, sometimes it’s thirty, sometimes it’s one hundred but there is no reason. Basically, our job is to sow the seeds. Then we watch as God allows his Kingdom to take root and to grow. And what a marvellous miracle that is.
In this chapter, Jesus gets in to more conflict. First it is with the Pharisees, who disagree with him healing someone on the Sabbath. Then he gets into conflict with his own family. He famously says that those around him are his mother, brother and sisters, rather than those looking for him.
This does make me wonder whether conflict is just a normal part of the Christian faith. Will there always be people who disagree with us, even to the point where they want to kill us. Now obviously this is tricky for a number of reasons.
First, it is discerning whether the conflict is motivated for righteous and good reasons. The conflicts Jesus found himself in were obviously acceptable. He was sinless; it was always the other parties that were wrong. How do we know then when our conflicts are sinful or righteous? This is especially the case when, throughout the New Testament, Christians are called to show unity and love for one another. In fact, unity is one of the most important pieces of evidence that we are sent by Jesus. Therefore, if we are in conflicts with one another then we are not being particularly good witnesses for Christ. So, I suggest, that if the conflict is with another believer, it is wrong. Of course, the fact that we are reminded so often to live peacefully, patiently and lovingly with one another means we are likely to forget this. (You don’t remind someone to do something that comes naturally to them.) It takes effort but it’s an effort we should take.
Then, it is perhaps that we should expect conflict with non-believers. Perhaps not to the extreme shown here, but we should expect it nonetheless. But, we need to check our hearts and be humble. I don’t think we should be antagonistic, frustrating, stubborn or arrogant in this, as this is not a good witness. In fact, our words should be seasoned with salt and our answers should be full of grace. We should not pick a fight the the sake of picking a fight. However, we should not be surprised if opposition comes our way.
Mark 2 continues with providing Jesus’ authority, but also that he has the ability to heal both our outward problems in the form of sickness but also our inward sin. This is not to say that a person’s sickness is caused by their sin, rather that sickness and sin are both a type of natural evil that has no place in God’s kingdom.
Now there are some really interesting things in this passage. First, the order in how Jesus responds to the paralysed man. First, he heals his sins. Then, he heals his body. God’s concern for our internal sickness, the sickness of our heart, which is sin, is greater than his concern for our bodily sickness. This is because God knows what is of a more eternal importance. Unless God deals with our sin in this lifetime, we are unable to be eternally healed.
Another thing that people often seem to overlook is the Pharisees’ reaction. They said, “Who can forgive sins but God alone?” They are absolutely correct; their theology is spot on. One thing that amazes me is about the gospels is that the Pharisees’ theology was, in fact, often right. You could not fault their Biblical knowledge. Yet, they did not recognise Jesus. You may have memorised the whole of scripture. Your arguments might be water-tight. But if your knowledge of scripture does not help you to know Jesus better, you’ve missed the point somewhere. It is through Christ that the meaning of Scripture is revealed.
The theme of the teachers of the law not really knowing Jesus continues through this chapter. They rebuke Jesus for associating with sinners. They ask him why he doesn’t fast. They argue with him about the purpose of the Sabbath. Each time, they do not recognise who he is and what he has come to do.
So, my question is this: do I know Jesus? I might have a good theoretical knowledge; I might be able to sing all the names of the books in the Bible in the right order; I could probably do a good flannel-graph version of most the parables. I could know the Bible inside and out. But do I actually know the person of Christ, who is the Son of God?
So, I’ve finally read all the New Testament books with fewer than 10 chapters! There are quite a few Old Testament books that are below 10 chapters that I’ve still yet to read (in some cases, ever). However, I thought I would tackle one of the gospels. Mark is the shortest, so I thought I’d start there.
Mark is certainly fast-paced, which probably accounts for why it’s the shortest of the gospels. In the first chapter, you start with John the Baptist, then you have Jesus’s baptism, temptation, some healings and casting out of demons, the proclamation of the good news and the calling of the first disciples (but not in that order). Mark does not linger over each event, and moves quickly from one to the next.
One of the interesting things is how Mark gets straight to Jesus’ identity and his ministry. Luke and John have introduction that come before Jesus is explicitly mentioned. Matthew has a similar introduction, but gives us Jesus’ genealogy and nativity story. Mark begins with the idea that this is about Jesus, then gives us a prophecy to show how Jesus is the fulfilment of scripture. We have John the Baptist proclaim Jesus’ importance, and then the heavenly declaration of Jesus as God’s son. So, in a matter of ten verses we’ve had Isaiah the prophet, John the Baptist, the Holy Spirit and God declare who Jesus was. The temptation in the desert is dealt with in one sentence, but we are told Jesus was attended to by angels, again, showing the readers who he is.
Therefore, when we get to his public ministry in verses 14, we have a good idea that what is going to happen is going to be amazing. He is the son of God, of course. He declares that God’s kingdom his near. The way he shows this is by showing how God’s kingdom has power over sickness and spirits. God’s kingdom is wherever God’s perfect nature and will rules over earth. Therefore, evil, in the form of sickness and unclean spirits, is driven out as Jesus proclaims the kingdom. Furthermore, this just proves Jesus’ authority (the demons recognise it in verse 24, then the people realise it in verse 27).
Mark 1, then, sets up Jesus’ power in authority in two ways: through the testimony of others (including in scripture and from God, himself) and through is powerful deeds. It encourages us to know that Jesus is the fulfilment of scripture and that he does have this power. Especially as believers know we have been given this same authority and Jesus is with us until the end of the age.