in a summer place

 

The last hot day of Summer, I'd say.

Leafy avenue resplendent in Augustine garb but with a faint tang of Autumn everywhere.

A neighbour strolls up and greets me.

He then says something critical about Israel.

"I'd be happy to talk to you about Israel," I reply. "But I always listen to you and hear you out. And you absolutely refuse to listen to me."

"I don't need to listen," said the neighbour, "I know I'm right."

"Well I've got to envy you then," said I.

"I've been to Israel and Lebanon," he continued, "you haven't."

"Yes," I said, "and if I wasn't aware of a great many people who've been there and disagree with your assessment, perhaps the I've been there argument would carry more weight."

"And you," he said, "what about you! If the Israelis came along and told you to move out of your house and go away like they do with innocent Palestinian olive growers, what would you do?"

"I'd be glad to weigh that question if you'd listen to my answer."

"You've got one minute," he said, he really did.

And I smiled.

"Well I'm not going to answer in those circumstances. I do notice that you're selective about what you consider an outrage and you're equally selective about where you enter history."

"Oh you're going to start talking about the Bible again," said he.

"No, I'm going to ask you how many Irish army officers that you've worked with over the years have ever spoken in defence of Israel."

"None," he answered.

"Well maybe you do need to hear another opinion than the ones you've become accustomed to," I murmured.

His mobile phone rang and he bid me a polite enough adieu and rambled off.

There had been no rancour in any of it.

A few days later I felt an impulse to got a church I don't normally attend.

The neighbour I'd met on the avenue was doing the reading.

It happened to be my favourite reading from Saint Paul.

"Has God changed his mind about his choice of the Jews? Out of the question... Never despise them for they are a cultivated olive and you are a wild olive grafted on to the promises that are theirs... If some of them refusing to hear my message meant I brought the good news of salvation to you, what will their acceptance mean? I tell you nothing less than life from the dead."

Hearing those words from the Brigadier was mightily cheering to my spirit as was the distinct feeling that God had brought me to the church at just the right time to hear them.