Thought for the Day, 13 May 2008

Rev John Bell

Imagine what it would be like if the Netherlands were swamped by a tidal wave, and you were marooned in your native village of Monnickendam. After a week, you see strangers in your garden. They come from a country which has called your leaders paranoid. They don't speak Dutch, and they offer you food you don't recognise.

Now think of Burma. I'm not an apologist for the cabal of generals who rule Myanmar. And certainly if the accusations are true that they would rather have seen people die than be the recipients of aid, they would have been guilty of willful genocide. But should we be surprised if the leaders of a country which Western governments have accorded pariah status, are reticent to defer to our wishes?

Myanmar can't be compared to China and is also very different from Britain. It has two thirds of our population but three times the landmass. It has one major and eight minority languages. Almost 90% of the population are Buddhist and most live in rural areas. It has had ten days to deal with the devastation of the cyclone after more than ten years of sanctions imposed on the military elite by the very people who now want to be saviours of its ordinary citizens.

With hindsight we realise that one of the mistakes in the occupation of Iraq was that few in charge seemed to understand either the underlying ethnic tensions, the Arab political mind or middle-eastern culture. And so we imposed on that country a constitution written by outsiders… for whose benefit?

Such cultural ignorance may explain why the Burmese generals - even if they do not speak for the majority of citizens - feel more reticent about welcoming unknown Western experts than they are about receiving the aid supplies now trickling into the country.

As I say, I could never condone a regime which is prepared to let people die. But I think that, as willing benefactors, we always need to ask ourselves: What will achieve the most effective response in this situation?

I say this because, as a Christian, I am constantly fascinated by the untidy way in which Jesus responds to need. His healing miracles occupy a fair proportion of the Gospels, but they have no common pattern.

In one place he heals in public, in another he heals in private and urges no publicity. In one instance he touches, in another he spits, in another he shouts. And when his disciples come to him confused with a case which hasn't responded to their ministrations, he gives them a row for not appreciating that something different from proven technique is required.

Suffering whether in the body or the body politic is always a mystery. Technical help may relieve pain, but it may require something beyond our practised instincts to bring complete healing.