2nd October 2021

Just for the record, in the event that Big Brother is reading this, my worst fear is sitting by a cosy fire on a rainy day, with a good book, sipping on coffee and nibbling on liquorice. Such a chilling scenario would have to be my worst nightmare! Aaah! The very thought of it fills me with dread! And so if I’m dragged off to the Ministry of Love – let the reader who doesn’t understand read George Orwell’s famous dystopia Nineteen Eighty Four – then may my reeducators do their worst to me in Room 101.

What an awful spectre Orwell paints for us in his novel. Fancy one’s tormenters being able to recreate your worst nightmare, and then inflict it on you in real life, in the name of love. Surely it’s a sign of weakness, and of a defective worldview, to resort to cruelty in order to win a person’s allegiance. Spare me from that sort of ministry!

How different our Brother who won-over His enemies by a ministry of real love. One of His disciples had swung a sword and had severed the ear of an opponent, only for Jesus to rebuke the hot-headed disciple and heal the injured man. And after hearing the words that were spoken from the Cross, one of the criminals changed his allegiance, and one of executioners changed his mind. And not by feeling the dread of one’s worst fear come to life, but by feeling the possibility of having one’s greatest hope fulfilled.

DM 2^nd October 2021