Lenten Studies - "Finding God Among the Poets"

Everyone is welcome to join us for this year’s study series, the details of which are as follows:

"Finding God Among the Poets"

Course Outline
There will be five weekly sessions, with participants meeting in a group in each centre.

Participants will be given a small number of poems to ponder a week in advance of the session on those poems.

At the beginning of the course they will be given some notes suggesting ways in which they might ponder the poems. For each group of poems they will also be given some suggested questions to ponder.

Session 1
A miscellaneous group of poems drawn from Andrew Motion’s Here to Eternity: An Anthology of Poetry.

Session 2
Struggling Towards God.
Poems from Anne Sexton’s The Awful Rowing Toward God.

Session 3
Playing Hide and Seek with God.
Poems from R.S. Thomas’ Collected Poems.

Session 4
Talking Straight to God.
Poems from John Berryman’s Eleven Addresses to God.

Session 5
Finding God in God’s Own.
A miscellaneous group of Kiwi poems from Spirit in a Strange Land.

Sample Suggestions

• Read each of the poems through slowly. Jot down what the poems says to you about God, or the poet’s attitude towards God. How does the poet feel about God in the poems? What image of God are you left with?

• Note any strong negative or positive emotion you feel as you read the poem. Can you identify the cause of that emotion in the poem?

• Chose one of the poems that most speaks to you. Read it through several times, preferably aloud. Listen to it. Hear what it is saying to you. Does it connect in some way with your own experience? What comes to mind as you ponder it? Why does it appeal to you?

• Are there any particular insights, thoughts or feelings you would like to share with the group?

• Is there anything you would like to say to the poet? Or to God?

Depending on sufficient interest, we will have one group meeting in the Parish Lounge in Scotia Street, Port Chalmers, and another in Blueskin Bay Library, Harvey Street, Waitati.

The dates (still to be confirmed are):

Port Chalmers (Parish Lounge in Scotia Street):
Tuesday, 27^th February, Wednesday, 7^th March, Wednesday 14^th March, Tuesday 20^th March, and Wednesday 28^th March.

Waitati (Blueskin Bay Library, Harvey Street)
Thursdays, 1^st, 8^th, 15^th, 22^nd, and 29^th March.

• Each session will be from 7.30 - 9.00pm

• Please let Roger know (472.7402) as soon as possible if you are interested in taking part

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It Could Have Been in Cornwall

It could have been in Cornwall
where St Cadoc showed his wiles,
blessing the place with his shiny face
including the Scilly Isles.

It could have been in Cornwall
near the town where I was born,
he learned to pray in a fervent way
to welcome in the dawn.

It could have been in Cornwall
where he walked upon the moors,
and fought a plan by a greedy man
to eradicate the gorse.

It could have been in Cornwall
where he healed the sick and weak,
and learned to float on a patched up coat
and never sprung a leak.

It could have been in Cornwall
he saw angels in the sky,
and realised to his great surprise
he could levitate and fly.

It could have been in Cornwall
where he preached to an ancient chough,
prattling late to his feathered mate
until the bird was stuffed.

It could have been in Cornwall
that he dined with Joan the Wad,
downing whisky with the regal piskey
and winning her for God.

It could have been in Cornwall
in our glorious Celtic past,
or it could all be fraud by the Tourist Board –
it’s safer not to ask.

The Many and the Few

Texts: Isaiah 6:1-8; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11

The more time I have spent this week pondering this story from St Luke, the more strongly two things have struck me about it. First, it is clearly structured along the same lines as St John’s story of the Wedding at Cana, which we had a three weeks ago. Secondly, the story tells us something very important about the mission of the Church, particularly what we call evangelism.

First, then, the structure of the story and its similarity to St John’s account of the wedding. A large crowd is present in each case, but in both cases they play no part in the real action in the story. Remember how clear St John was that it was Jesus’ disciples who, as a result of Jesus’ turning water into wine, put their faith in him. The other guests were oblivious to what had happened. Even the servants, who knew what had happened, do not seem to have committed themselves to Christ. In this morning’s story, the crowd had dispersed and gone home before the real action began.

Then Jesus performs a sign or miracle. He changed water into wine at the wedding; here he tells expert fishermen where to catch fish, even though they had fished all night and hadn’t caught anything. In both cases, the sign or miracle proves life-changing for those few disciples present with him. And each account concludes by making that point clear. St John, the lover of words, spells it out: St Luke, the lover of the dramatic, shows us.

That’s the first point then – these stories have a set format, and I’ll come back to that in a moment. But let’s now look at what these stories are telling us about evangelism. I once rather shocked one of my Wellington colleagues by saying that I didn’t have an evangelistic bone in my body. That was just a colourful way of saying that I do not attend – I do not believe in the usefulness of – evangelism conferences. I know that is offensive to some people. But I see little if any evidence that such conferences do anything more than make the attendees feel good about themselves.

The same is true about evangelistic programmes, schemes, crusades and consultants on evangelism. We have as a church had periodic outbursts of evangelistic fervour. But has anyone done a follow-up assessment further down the track – after 1 year, or after 5? I recall an ecumenical crusade that it was held over an entire week in Otaki many years ago. Our own church put an enormous amount of time and energy and other resources into it. For months nothing else was on the radar, as we say. And when it was all over, not one new member of the church was to be found.

And this morning’s gospel passage, and others like it, can explain to us why that was so. Jesus does not produce mass conversions. The happy couple at Cana, the bridal party, the guests – all of them went home unconverted, as fas as we know. The vast crowd at water’s edge this morning, who heard Jesus preach to them, went home unconverted, as far as we know. Only the chosen few, only the disciples, heard and saw and were convinced.

St John the Baptist, it would appear, was far more ‘successful’ as an evangelist than Jesus. He pulled in vast crowds, and many of them were baptised. We can imagine how good his parish stats would have looked, in the short term. In the very short term. Because what happened to those vast crowds of ‘converts’? Only one or two of them took John’s teaching to heart and followed Jesus. And when Jesus died after three years of ministry of word and miracle, he left behind about 120 believers. Mass evangelism does not bear fruit that will last. It doesn’t work.

What does work? First of all, before we can be convincing about anyone or anything, we must first be convinced. If someone sings the praises of a breed of dog he’s never owned, or a make of car she’s never driven, or a particular sport he’s never played or watched, or a play she’s never seen or read, we’re not likely to be won over. Conviction must be rooted in personal experience if it is to be convincing to others.

And I stress the word ‘personal’. Peter in this morning’s story was convinced in a way that may not have convinced others. He was an experienced fisherman. He had been out fishing all night and had been unsuccessful. He was tired and ready for home. Jesus the carpenter told him to go out again; reluctantly he did so, and caught a huge haul.

What does that say about Jesus? That he had keen eyesight – that he had just seen a dark shadow moving across the lake – or the surface of the water disturbed in a particular way – that suggested fish present? Or that he took a gamble and guessed right? It was just an extraordinary coincidence? That’s how many would interpret such an event today. But not Peter; to him it was a sign of the divine – the power of God present in this man called Jesus.

He responded as men and women do when suddenly finding themselves in the presence of the divine – in fear and awe. That’s why we have this passage from Isaiah today to accompany this story. Peter’s reaction is very similar to Isaiah’s. Isaiah was a priest in the Temple, no doubt going about his priestly ministry in a conscientious manner. Then suddenly he experiences the glory of God filling the entire building, and he is terrified. Like Peter, his first response is to be all too aware of his sinful nature and his complete unworthiness to be in the presence of the all-holy God.

But he experiences forgiveness – cleansing – the grace of God – and that fits him for his new ministry as a prophet. In the same way, Jesus reassures Peter, and empowers him to take up his new ministry as an apostle.

St Luke gives us some further clues in this story. The crowd meet Jesus at the shoreline. They are on safe ground. They are free to turn around and leave at any time. But Peter and Jesus are in the boat, and the first thing that Jesus says to him is, ‘Put out into deeper water’. We have some interesting expressions today that might hint at the point St Luke is making. We might say, ‘we’re getting into deep water’ or ‘we’re out of our depth here’, when we mean we are in a difficult or challenging situation. We also say ‘ we are all in the same boat’!

All these sayings were applicable to Peter and Co on that day. Jesus is inviting him to go deeper – to take more risk – to leave the safety of firm ground – to be in the same boat as Jesus, and so on. To leave certainty – represented by all he has known up to that time – and to venture into the uncertain future of faith.

Like Isaiah and St Peter, St Paul also had a life-changing encounter with the divine. and the three of them together illustrate a line of development, as it were. Isaiah met God in the Temple. St Peter met God in the flesh of Jesus. St Paul met God in the Rien Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. But the effect in each case was the same. Each became convincing because each was first convinced.

And each was first convinced because God took the initiative to convince him. None of them got there by reason or intellectual effort. In each case, he was taken by surprises. In each case it was a personal, individual experience. One on one, so to speak, God and one other.

Were they then wildly successful? In worldly terms, no. Far less successful than the Emperor Constantine, who converted the whole Roman Empire by the stroke of a pen. And there are still those who dream of the same approach today. We ask Parliament to legislate to enforce God’s laws, because not enough people will obey them willingly. Not enough people are convinced. Our crusades and programmes, our conferences and seminars and consultants, are not getting us anywhere; so in desperation we try evangelism by legislation.

It won’t work because that is not God’s way. When evangelists remind us of the so-called Great Commission, they tend to overlook what Jesus actually said. He did not tell us to convert the nations of the world, or to make believers of all peoples. He told us to make disciples in every nation. A few people who are convincing because they are convinced.

Isaiah, not every priest. St Peter, not every fisherman. St Paul, not every persecutor of the Church. you and me, not everyone in Port Chalmers and Warrington. Let the crowds go home - and let Peter’s boat, the Church, continue into the ever deeper waters of faith crewed by those whom Christ has called..

Setting the Captives Free

Texts: Nehemiah 8:1-10; 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a; Luke 4:14-21

We’re having a baptism (at St Barnabas) this morning, and once again the Scriptures have come up trumps. It seems that whenever we have a baptism the Scriptures set for the day will somehow manage to be relevant. That probably says much about the central importance of baptism in itself.

Take, to start with, this morning’s reading from the little known Book of Nehemiah. Not the easiest book to love and enjoy – nor even to find! It is one of those books that majors on lists – usually lists of unpronounceable names of no earthly interest to any of us – and, we hope, not essential to our salvation! But in among all that terribly detailed and boring stuff, there is a wonderful story of human interest. And it is, in its own way, a baptismal story.

The captives have been set free. (Already bells are ringing, aren’t they?) Very many of our Old Testament lessons feature prophets warning about the coming exile, or telling the people in exile it serves them right for disobeying God, or promising that exile will not be for ever – God has not forgotten them – and the time is coming when God will redeem them from exile. Well, now he has. History records that the Persians came to power and knocked the Babylonians off their perch; and, for whatever reason of their own, the Persians decided to offer the Jewish people the right to leave and return to their own homeland.

The Jewish religious people, of course, saw the hand of God in this unexpected turnaround in their national fortunes. God, they believed, was using the Persian ruler, Cyrus, to effect God’s purposes, to fulfil God’s promise to rescue the people from captivity in Babylon. Isn’t that wonderful – isn’t that good news for the captives?

Well, history also records that not all of them thought so. In fact, only a minority of them thought so. Less than a third – and, you know, nothing has changed to this day. Less than a third of the people worldwide who, under Israeli law, are recognised as Jewish and therefore have the right to reside permanently in Israel , actually do live in Israel. When Cyrus said to the Jewish exiles, you are free to go, about 70 percent of them said thanks but no thanks. Isn’t that strange? Or is it just human?

We have to bear in mind that the exile had lasted about 70 years. So most if not all of those who had actually been taken from Israel as captives had died out in Babylon. Those who were now told they were free to go had been born in captivity – born in exile – in Babylon. They had lived all their lives there. They were, as we might put it, second or third generation Babylonians. They had assimilated. This was their life – they had known no other. Under Jewish law they were in exile, in captivity, separated from the holy city, etc., but that’s not how it felt to them in their everyday lives.

It was during this period that they discovered it was possible to worship the God of Israel in a foreign land. It’s generally agreed that it was during this period that much of the work of writing and editing the Hebrew Scriptures into something like we have them today took place. The concept of the synagogue developed here. In other words, they learned how to be faithful Jews in the everyday world, without the comfort and security of the Temple, and of the land of their fathers, the Promised Land of their faith.

What was there to go back to? A ruined city – a pile of rubble – in material terms, nothing. So perhaps we can understand why a majority of the so-called captives, when offered their freedom, declined the offer. They did not understand that they were CAPTIVES because by this time that’s not how it felt to them. Materially, they were better off in Babylon than they would be if they went back to the ruined city of Jerusalem.

Perhaps the real question, faced with such a choice, is why did the third go back to Jerusalem. And the answer can only make sense in religious terms. They went back because that was the land God had given their people. That was the land of the covenant. They were bound to God in that place – they were chosen by God to be a light to the world in that place, and so on. That is where God had chosen to meet them That is where, in our terms, the incarnation of God was made manifest. In short, they didn’t belong in Babylon, they belonged in Israel. They didn’t belong in captivity and exile, they belonged in freedom in their given homeland.

What we have here are two views of life. We might characterise the first as the material view of life – the practical, commonsense approach to life. Go where the money is, go where the comfortable life is to be found. And if you’re fortunate enough to be already in it, stay there. Stay within your comfort zone – stay with the familiar and the secure. That’s the way of the world – and most of us live that way without thinking about it too much.

Until something happens. Out of the blue, something terrible happens, perhaps, that makes us think about things in a different way. Or we are suddenly presented with an opportunity, and we have to decide whether to take it or not. Something makes us think at a deeper level- we have to ask ourselves questions that go below economics. They take us into the scary world of emotions, feelings, beliefs, hopes and fears. We ask ourselves who we are, what sort of a person am I? What is really important to me?

An obvious example is the number of expatriate New Zealanders who are economically far better off in London, or Spain or Dubai or somewhere. Thoroughly enjoying the high life – until one day they start to feel the tug of New Zealand – family- friends – familiar places- scenery – and they start to feel that they don’t really belong in London or Spain or Dubai. And they start to think of going back home. Not all of them, of course, not even a majority of them. Perhaps no more than a third. For them, what seemed like the Promised Land begins to feel like a place of exile, like Babylon. It is when they feel like captives that they will begin to seek freedom.

Jesus is something that happens in the lives of many people. When he returned home to Nazareth and went into the local synagogue, we can imagine the scene. His reputation had preceded him. St Luke tells us that, after his baptism and his time of testing in the wilderness, Jesus had been all over the place preaching in the local synagogues, “and everyone praised him”. So now he comes back to his hometown as the local boy who has made good. I would bet the place was packed – the level of excitement high. They wanted to see for themselves just how good this guy was – this son of the local carpenter.

And Jesus launches his campaign, so to speak, by reading a passage from Isaiah, by which he identifies himself as the one anointed and sent by God to announce the inauguration of the Kingdom of God, a new way of life on earth. What will it be like? Well, it doesn’t seem to have any direct relationship to what we call the standard of living. There is no mention of interest rates or GDP.. Instead, it involves giving sight to the blind and release for the captives. (That sounds familiar, doesn’t it?) Today’s passage finishes on a high note: All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips. “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” they asked.

But we know what happened next. As Jesus continued with his sermon, it became clear to them that he was suggesting that they were blind, that they were captives, that they needed to be set free. That went down rather badly. They had been born into their state, they did not feel the need for change. Who the hell did he thing he was?

It is in his name that we offer baptism. And the message is the same as it was in the time of Nehemiah, and in the time of Jesus. We have a choice. We can live at the surface of things, or in the depths. We can follow the money or the Lord. We can live a life of commonsense, practicalities, and even comfort. Or we can take the risk of accepting God’s offer of redemption from captivity and enter the new world of freedom that the Bible calls the Kingdom of God.

And when we choose the latter, the first thing to do is to remember Nehemiah’s advice to the people: Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is sacred to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

In other words, baptism - our own and Philippa’s – is party time. Let’s celebrate!

Jesus and the Temple

Texts: Malachi 3:1-4; Hebrews 2:14-18; Luke 2:22-40

Perhaps every generation of human beings is tempted to believe that, only with their own arrival on the scene, have we reached maturity and wisdom as a race. That is certainly true of many people today. If it’s old it has no value – whether we are talking about computers or about ideas. At least, religious ideas.

Now I come to think of it, not many people dismiss Plato, Socrates and Co as hopelessly ignorant, children of their time, pre-scientific, pre-Enlightenment or whatever. They are still ‘cool’. But any theologian who is dead, or, of course, who was orthodox in his teaching – well, we now see that he was a poor misguided ignoramus. Fancy believing such rot!! We know better today, of course – we’re modern, or even post-modern.

And the sad thing is that such dismissive attitudes towards some of the greatest religious thinkers of the last two thousand years - correction, the last four thousand years – are found inside the Church as well as outside it. Challenged to show how his views are consistent with the Scriptures or the teaching of the Church as summarised in the Creeds, Professor Geering doesn’t even try. He dismisses the prophets and the writers of the wisdom literature of the Old Testament, the gospel writers, St Paul and the other Apostles, the Fathers of the early Church period, and everybody else up to and including the present day who argue for the orthodox Christian teaching, as being pre-modern, pre-scientific and pre-Enlightenment.

A strand of this approach is often found among much less exalted members of the Church. I often hear people saying that we don’t need the Old Testament today – we’re Christians – we follow Christ. Some people go so far as to talk of the God of the New Testament as distinct from the God of the Old Testament, the latter being hopelessly autocratic and arbitrary, the former being reliable, and, of course, loving.

Now there are a lot of heresies that I rather enjoy myself; but not this one. As broad as we Anglicans like to be, this one is a heresy too far. It should be stamped out and those who believe it should be deported to Auckland or some other place of eternal punishment. At this stage in the Church year particularly, we are reminded that the Christian teaching does not make any sense at all if it is removed from the Old Testament context.

Two weeks ago we had the story of the wedding at Cana, where, we were told, Jesus turned water into wine. If that was all that happened on that occasion – if that was what St John’s story was all about – then I would agree with Lloyd Geering that it was pre-scientific nonsense. What we would have is not Jesus the Son of God but Jesus the magician, with a party trick to astonish the gathered throng.

But when we put that story in its proper context – its Old Testament context – we see something very different from magic tricks. St John is very clear about those stone jars. They weren’t there for those who had taken the pledge and wanted something non-alcoholic to drink – they were there for the ritualistic hand-washing required of all faithful religious Jews before eating.

Water is essential to human life, and it played a very important part in Jewish ritual. It plays a very important part in Christian ritual, too, of course; we come into the faith through baptism with water. But there is more to life than just water – just existence. When Jesus turns the water into wine he signals that God is doing something new – something more – than he had done before, not instead of, but in addition to what had been done before.

Jesus did not say, from now on water is abolished and replaced by wine. He said in addition to the water that is essential for human existence, God is offering wine as a symbol of fullness and joy. Jesus and the new covenant does not replace Abraham and the old one, but builds on it, takes God’s relationship with us to a new level, as we might say.

Today’s story is another illustration of that same idea. It’s a first instalment of the whole story of the relationship of Jesus and the Temple, which takes about 100 years to work through. Nobody works it through better than the author of the Letter to the Hebrews, to whom we will come shortly. But first let’s look at the story as St Luke records it, and then look at its context in the Old Testament.

St Luke is the only one of the gospel writers who includes this account; and he does it with the same care for detail as he shows in his birth narrative. He is at pains to show that Mary and Joseph scrupulously followed the requirements of the law in respect of their firstborn child. Just before today’s passage begins, St Luke has told us that Jesus was circumcised on the 8^th day, as the Law required.

Then Mary observed the period of purification required by the Law. Childbirth had rendered her ‘unclean’ – that is, she could not participate in religious ritual. Some of you will remember a ceremony in the Book of Common Prayer called The Churching of Women, which was a Christian development of that same idea in which we gave “humble thanks for that thou hast vouchsafed to deliver this woman thy servant from the great pain and peril of child-birth”. In Mary’s day there was a stand-down period of 40 days, and then a rite of purification at the Temple.

So she has come to the Temple for that purpose, and to do two other things. First, to offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving for the child; and secondly, and even more importantly, to consecrate Jesus to God as the Law required in respect of the firstborn male child. So, says St Luke, at this first meeting, so to speak, of the Temple and Jesus, the past is accepted and honoured, and the new present with the transformed future is begun.

That is what is being proclaimed by the prophet, Simeon, and the prophetess Anna. Humanity’s representatives, male and female, speak through the Spirit to welcome the child, but also to acknowledge that this infant’s coming to the Temple is in fulfilment of the ancient promise that the Lord himself would come, bringing salvation.

Thus, to fully understand the significance of this gospel story we need to know the Old Testament background to it. Today’s passage is a case in point. The prophet, Malachi, whose book has the distinction of being the final one in the Old Testament, includes this promise: See, I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come, says the Lord Almighty. And as soon as we think about that for a moment, another story involving Jesus and the Temple springs to mind. This story is one that St Luke shares with all the other gospel writers. We know it as the Cleansing of the Temple; and this time, of course, we can see much more clearly, the idea of judgment, of cleaning up the household of God in readiness for the in-gathering of the Gentiles.

As I’ve said, the author of the Letter to the Hebrews has much to say about the way in which Jesus replaces the Temple with his own body. Instead of the special holy place in which God is to be found, we have a special holy person in whom God is to be found. But before he gets around to spelling out this great insight, he reminds us that Jesus was and is a human being like all human beings. He came, not to help angels, but “Abraham’s descendants’ – and there is the link back to the Old Testament, the proper context for understanding this and all other New Testament writings.

Perhaps the real difference between the Christian viewpoint and the post-modern one is toPublish be found here. We believe in the continuing, coherent story of God’s relationship with humanity, beginning with Abraham and going on to the end of time. The Geerings of the world do not. They believe that we create a story of our own, and whatever story we choose to create is just as valid and worthy of respect as any other story. There are just as many truths as there are people, as somebody has put it

And that is another heresy for which the only suitable penalty is exile to Auckland.