«Si Dieu n’existait pas, il faudrait l’inventer»
VOLTAIRE (1694-1778), Épîtres
(If God did not exist, we would have to invent him)
The Way, The Truth and The Life
How is it that a simple carpenter who lived in an obscure town in an occupied
country in the Middle East approximately 2023 years ago, and who only spent
3 years in active ministry, before, on a trumped up charge, was found guilty
of blasphemy, with the corresponding penalty of torture and crucifixion until
death, continues to change people's lives today?
South of France:
I am inside a medieval church where I find myself standing in front of a statue
on the left hand side of the church. I am struck by it.
It depicts God the Father with his mouth wide open, and Jesus: God the Son,
emerging from it. It speaks to me.
Psalm 8 comes to my mind:
«What is man that You are mindful of him,
And the son of
man that You visit him?
For You have made him a little lower than
the angels,
And You have crowned him with glory and honor.
You have made him to have dominion over the works of Your
hands;
You have put all things under his feet,
All sheep and
oxen—
Even the beasts of the field,
The birds of the air,
And
the fish of the sea
That pass through the paths of the seas.»
(Psalm 8:4-8 New King James Version (NKJV))
Padre Pio also comes into my mind, he used to say that he was
«a mystery even to himself».
«Abandoned»
I saw the light of day in Norway, autumn 1958.
My parents did not have a name ready for my birth.
As they already had 2 girls, they had been hoping for a boy,
because they had decided that I was to be their last child.
So it was the midwife who gave me a temporary name.
25. January 1959, A Lutheran Church in a city in Norway
«I baptise you in the name of The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit»
It was the day of my Christening; when I died with Christ,
in order to live with Him in His Resurrection.
I also I received my real name
Åse, which in old Nordic theology is the word for “God” or “Divine”.
I always loved my name.
Summer 1965: A city in Norway
Standing on the road above the house where we lived, as a 6 year old
little girl with a heavy heart, I looked over the roofs of the terraced houses,
as if I was looking into the future.
It knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I decided in that moment that in the
end I would be happy.
I had a specific image; I saw myself in France, I saw love, joy and peace.
Why France?
I often heard my father speak about France with great enthusiasm and
admiration, so in my childish mind I picked it as an ideal place to be
happy in.
«Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and
thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that
what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him.
Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have
received it, and it will be yours.»
(Mark 11, 23-24)(ESV)
I was lonely, there was no-body on my side.
I couldn't manage things on my own, I needed somebody to explain
things to me, to show me how to do things, to teach me things.
I was only a child! But there was nobody.
My mother always said: «Go out and play, I am busy».
But how could she be so busy? My sisters were at school, and she had
only me and the house to look after.
I remember my mother standing by the kitchen sink, preparing dinner.
I had something important that I wanted to tell her, I remember being
happy and excited and wanting her attention for a minute.
«Go and sit down», she barked at me, indicating the kitchen
chairs by the table. She was very cold and harsh.
I just wanted some love and attention.
To this day I remember the chubby ankles of my father's secretary who
had her office in our house.
Because she was kind and gentle, and even though it was certainly not
part of her contract to take care of me, she used to allow me to come in
to the office when she was working.
And since I was small and skinny, I used to creep under her desk and sit
there, just to have some proximity to a human being.
I also attached myself to my teacher in 1.st class. I used to follow her home,
and I can remember how she gently explained to me that I could not come
to her home after school, because she was going to make dinner for her husband.
Then there was the time when the whole family was in the school grounds for
the celebration of the national holiday, 17th May.
There was stalls, games, brass band, and a lot of people.
All of a sudden I was lost in the crowd, I could not find my mother or father
anywhere, nor could I see any of my sisters.
I became afraid, and I kept looking all around me. I do not know for how long
I was lost, but it doesn't really matter, what was important, was that by the time
I spotted my parents, (and my uncle, who was visiting us at the time), they were
all laughing at me.
They had seen me all the time while realizing that I could not find them.
There was no hug, no comfort.
I have a clear memory of the knot of anxiety in my stomach as we were leaving
to go home, passing through the school gate. I knew that I was on my own.
I wanted my mother to approve of me, but I was also afraid of her.
She often lost control of herself, exploding with anger, and she took it out on me
and my other sister.
She would hit us on the backside, but it was her voice that affected me most.
«Shame on you!» and «Go to your room and be ashamed!» she would say,
with such anger and vehemence, that the shame of being who I was,
certainly got a foothold.
This physical punishment she passed off as discipline, but it was not.
She was just venting her frustration and anger.
Yet, I do not think that the physical punishment did a lot of harm, it was
her coldness and indifference towards me that made me realize that I really
was alone in the world.
She gave me no signs that she cared about me, there was no gestures,
no loving words.
When I started school, however, the teachers told my mother that they were
very happy with me, because I was doing well, and then I could see she
approved of me!
And right there is the basis for neurotic perfectionism, it is quite logical.
One does whatever it takes to get what one knows one need:
love and attention.
Even though she never said it to me directly, I often overheard her saying
to others with pride in her voice, that «Åse is the best in her class»,
so I knew.
It was the only thing that she approved of regarding me, but it was better
than nothing.
Neither was there any solidarity in our family, I never got a feeling that we
were a unit which supported each other.
I did not see it between my mother and father, neither amongst us children.
Although I knew that my father was a kind man, he was always completely
immersed in his work, which often made him absent from our home.
I had no allies, as far as I could see, I had to manage on my own.
Since my family did not provide a source of comfort or refuge against the
outside world, I had to create some strong defensive mechanisms in order to
survive. I trusted no one.
Because if you cannot trust and rely on your own family, who can you trust?
But despite this lack of foundation, nurture and education, my mother did
pass on to me something important.
She was Christian, and thanks to her I was baptized and received a basic
christian education.
Obviously as a child I did not realize the value of it, but the seed of faith
was planted in me.
And this seed, even though it has taken a long time to grow,
could not have grown if the seed had not been planted in the first place.
«He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard
seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of
all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a
tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.”
(Matthew13: 31-32)(NIV)
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