The ability to create fear, uncertainty and doubt (FUD for short) has been shown over millennia to be an effective way to control people.
Tyrants rule by fear.
Politicians seek to score political points over their opponents or to undermine ideologies they disagree with, causing uncertainty.
Doubt arises when we believe that somebody cannot be trusted.
FUD is present everywhere in society and it takes many names.
People can be emotionally abusive to a spouse, using FUD to make the partner become more dependent on their abuser.
Gaslighting uses lies to cause a person to doubt their own senses, memories and sanity.
Technology businesses use FUD to make people lock into their products rather than a competitor.
I have been on the receiving end of a FUD attack and the emotions it generated in me were deep dread, fear and hopelessness. It was awful! Some people live with this every day.
All of this is opposed to God’s way of love. Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 13:13. “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
Faith is the opposite of fear, because by faith we believe that God is greater than anything that can destroy us.
Hope is opposed to uncertainty because hope looks forward to a better future, one that is held in God’s hands and not the manipulations of people.
Doubt is overcome by love because we can trust God to love us without fail.
Don’t let FUD overcome you. Instead let faith, hope and love flourish in your spirit.
People are planting flowers in Kyiv. Spring is coming.
In the midst of all the chaos, horror and death that the Russian invasion has inflicted on Kyiv, there is something beautiful about people planting flowers in wartorn Kyiv.
As The Times reports, in the light of the Russian withdrawal from the city, the city’s mayor, former world heavyweight boxing champion, Vitaly Klitschko declared:
The municipal services have started spring cleaning. Parks, green areas are being arranged and trees and flowers are being planted.
The war isn’t finished of course. Far from it. Half of the city’s population is still missing, some dead, many in other countries. The devastation and pain will continue for some time yet.
But the normal process of planting seedlings in the flowerbeds, much the same as in my suburb on a seasonal basis, has recommenced. Spring in the air. Easter Resurrection in the air.
Planting flowers in wartime? It could be construed as denial. It could be misdiagnosed as futility or nihilism. Or it could be seen for what it is: Hope sprouting from the ground again.
And it’s a lesson too. A lesson for so many things, but a lesson, I think, for the church. I’ve written much about the straitened times that the church of God finds itself in in the West, either due to its own folly, or because of the turn against the Gospel in the hard secular age. There is much to be sober about. And let’s not get too shy about calling the Christian life a battle, or the spiritual work of the Church a warfare, for the sake of not offending, or for fear of being labelled seditious. If we were to jettison that language we’d have to cut large swathes out of the New Testament documents.
But in the midst of that, let’s remember the better story, the truer narrative of human flourishing, the light to the world, salt of the earth, shining like stars in the dark, sorta stuff that the New Testament speaks of as well. Let’s not forget the new citizens of a heavenly kingdom, the people who have a hope beyond the hope of this age.
In other words, the church gets to plant flowers in wartime. We have a hope that what springs from the ground in our midst, and as we do good to the world and in the world, will not be wasted. Our Resurrection Day is coming. Not Easter Sunday, that was the proto-type, the first-fruits springing from the ground, of which our resurrection will be the full planter bed, blossoming into eternity.
And that should encourage us as we approach what I believe could well be darker and harsher times ahead, both geo-politically and for the church.
The always brilliant Anglican rector and UK journalist Giles Fraser, pointed out recently in UnHerd, that in response to the Ukraine war, the Christian hope leaves the humanist hope quite literally for dead. Humanists have no way of explaining evil away, other than it being a good opportunity for humanity to glint through the darkest body count.
And while I think that humanists could look at the flower-planting in Kyiv and say “See? There’s humanity in all its glory!”, they are unable to counter that glory with any sense of the true horror of humanity that makes such a photograph as the one I posted above, truly memorable.
After months of lockdowns, restrictions, and unprecedented attacks on freedom, the Covid pandemic is nearly done. I am so looking forward to ditching the masks for ever – as soon as I put one on, I feel my whole body tense up.
I am thankful to be living in New South Wales which has generally gone through the panic with a lighter touch than other States. We have kept open borders and minimal lockdowns. Other States have scorned this lighter touch, but we are coming out earlier than those states.
So, God willing, by December there will be very few restrictions in force. We can get back to life as normal.
Covid has been a great disruptor over the last two years. Many have died, others have become extremely ill.
For christians, the Good News is that even in this messy tme, God has been with us and contrinues to be with us.Of all people, we have the right to be hopeful.
As we move towards summer, Christmas, and freedom, remember that our God is greater – greater than the virus, greater than the Government, greater even than death.
New Life Narrabri 