Friday, November 20, 2015

Notes for Reflection

November 22             NOTES FOR REFLECTION             Feast of Christ the King

Texts: Daniel 7:9-10, 13-24; Revelation 1:4b-8; John 18:33-37

Theme:  The title of the feast may be enough.  Alternatively, something a little less formal may be preferred, such as “All’s Well that Ends Well”, which should have particular appeal to fans of William Shakespeare and/or Julian of Norwich.  At a different place on the spiritual spectrum, fans of G.J. Gardner might thrill to “End of Story”; and those of us who are still young at heart (otherwise known as childish) may like “Ready or Not”.  As this is a time to show solidarity with France, I am going with “All Things in Christ”, a favourite term of Teilhard de Chardin.  But a very close second choice was “All or Nothing”, for reasons that may become clearer later.

Introduction.  We start this week with two great visions of the end of our story, one from the prophet we know as Daniel and one from someone whose name and title we have never been able to agree on.  Let’s just call him Patmos John.  Daniel’s vision gives us two expressions important to our faith history and our hymnody: “son of Man”, and “Ancient of Days”.  It “captures” the moment when all is restored to unity and harmony within the Trinity of love.  Patmos John describes the same moment but in rather more abstract terms – a consequence of fluency in Greek, perhaps.  We finish with an interesting choice from St John’s Gospel – the encounter between Jesus and Pontius Pilate – where the author again gives us a wonderful example of two people speaking the same language but talking past each other.  Is Jesus a king; well, yes and no.

Background.  As bad weeks go, this one must rank with some of the worst, and it isn’t over yet.  I am writing this on Thursday morning, even as “discussions continue behind closed doors” (an expression much used by journalists who are making stuff up) over whether or not Richie McCaw should defer his expected announcement on his future plans out of respect for Jonah Lomu, while our Prime Minister frets that the atrocities in Paris might distract leaders at the APEC Conference from really important matter relating to international trading opportunities following the “successful” (Mr Key’s word) conclusion of the TPP Agreement.  And as for those Aussies failing to shake Ross Taylor’s hand at the end of his record-breaking innings – well, that certainly puts the events on Christmas Island in perspective, doesn’t it? 

Meanwhile, those hundreds and thousands of poor refugees fleeing from Islamic State and seeking freedom and prosperity in the civilised West have suddenly become secret agents of Islamic State and barred from entry into half the states of the Land of the Free – all on the “evidence” of one passport allegedly belonging to one of the terrorists involved in one of the attacks in Paris.  So much for solidarity – so much for the idea that the way to resist terrorists is to show them that we will not be terrorised.  Of all the saturation coverage in our news media this week, the image that will stay with me the longest is the stampede of people rushing away from a peace vigil, trampling on flowers and candles and one another in their panic, past a large banner that said “We are not Afraid”.  There is a St Peter in all of us.

And perhaps that’s where the journey back from despair to hope can begin – in recognising that “all of us” human beings belong together, in one kingdom, under one God – and that this truth remains true no matter how many people refuse to believe it or violently oppose it.  Come back to the cross for a moment: in place of the Roman centurion, place an Islamist fighter.  Is that any more unthinkable to us today than it was for the people of the time to contemplate a Roman guard acknowledging a Jewish outcast he has been helping to crucify as “the son of God”?

This week we have been told over and over again of the atrocities committed by Islamic State in various parts of the world, including the downing of the Russian aircraft over Gaza, multiple attacks in Turkey and Lebanon, and of course the latest attacks in Paris.  Has our own response been the same in each case?  Have we had prayer vigils for the victims on board the Russian plane – have we lit up our public buildings in the colours of the Russian flag?  What have we been invited to do to express solidarity with the people of Turkey or Lebanon?  Why are we outraged by an attack on a bar or a concert hall in Paris but not by a bombing of a hospital in Afghanistan staffed largely by “Doctors without Borders”?

Nothing justifies the attacks in Paris, but we must surely resist any temptation to rate them as worse (or better) than violent attacks on any other human beings anywhere in the world, and that includes places in Syria and Iraq now claimed to be strongholds of Islamic State.  If God would not destroy Sodom if 20 righteous people were found within its borders, retaliatory attacks against any town or city on any grounds whatever must surely be opposed by the people of God.

All of which underlines the importance of this week’s concluding chapter of God’s story.  If we truly believe that God is the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end; if we truly believe that all things in heaven and on earth are being gathered up and brought together in Christ; if we truly believe that God is working his purposes out and that a time will come when the earth will be filled with the glory of God, then this Feast is to be celebrated wholeheartedly, joyously and loudly – even at the risk of waking the neighbours or frightening the horses!

This week has challenged us yet again to remember that we can continue to believe in that wonderful vision, not through any faith in ourselves, but because of our trust in God.  It is all God’s doing and it is wonderful in our eyes!  But that does not mean that our calling is to be spectators or cheerleaders: our calling is far higher than that.  We are called to be co-workers – co-creators – with God in building his Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.  It is a kingdom without walls, borders, and barriers.  It is a kingdom in which we stand in solidarity with all other human beings, recognising that we share with them the dark side and the light side of our human nature.  Recognising that WE are the Body of Christ – all of us.

Some Final Personal Reflections
As I have come to accept that it is time to finish this series of Notes for Reflection I have asked myself what purpose they have served.  Whatever may have been my intention when I started them in 2011, and whatever I may have thought I was doing ever since, I suspect that the Spirit has hi-jacked them along the way to teach me a few things I might never have grasped without them.

At one level this is about personal discipline, sticking at it, when I felt like it and when I didn’t.  It’s about hearing things I didn’t want to hear as well as those I did.  One of the great virtues of following the prescribed readings whenever we are preaching is that we cannot take evasive action whenever we are confronted with a text we would rather overlook.  We’ve certainly had a few of those in recent weeks.  The same is true of this discipline of weekly reflections.  As one who has struggled over the years to maintain a disciplined practice of daily prayer, these Notes have ensured that at the very least I have remained committed to wrestling with the word of God week by week.

Looking back over the Notes I have been fascinated by the way in which they very quickly evolved from being very much “in-house” preaching notes, designed to be an aid for those preaching on a Sunday, with background notes largely limited to helpful passages from acclaimed spiritual writers, to something very different.  Quite how to describe that “very different” form is a little tricky.  Between Trish and I the background notes have become known (in a gentle way, of course) as my “weekly rave”.  No doubt they have sometimes descended into that; but through this part of the Notes I have tried to proclaim my conviction that in a most astonishing way the Scriptures do speak directly to the events and circumstances of today’s world with as much relevance as they did when first composed.  If nothing else, the practice of preparing these Notes has taught me to listen to the radio or TV news, or to read the ODT, with my “Bible Alert” programme switched on.  If that is one thing that I have passed on to those who have read these Notes from time to time I shall be well pleased.

The second major lesson for me, which I should have learned years ago, is that the Judaeo-Christian story can only make sense as a whole: it is not a collection of short stories from which we are free to pick and choose those we enjoy and reject the others.  As I have mentioned from time to time, the tendency when preaching, even if we preach virtually every week, is to break the story up into separate, self-contained teachings – not for nothing are our non-gospel readings referred to as “lessons”.  Hear this bit, do this or don’t do that, and have a good week until next Sunday.  It is hard to get across the idea of continuity: perhaps we need to learn from TV serials!  That’s one of the reasons why I place such value on this Feast of Christ the King – it is the logical conclusion to which the whole story related through the liturgical year has been moving.

This has also helped me to lose my fear of Trinity Sunday.  I can still remember the struggle I had when I was first asked to preach on Trinity Sunday.  What on earth could I say that hadn’t been said a thousand – nay, ten thousand – times before: what on earth can anyone say about the Trinity that makes sense?  But then one year the breakthrough came: I saw Trinity Sunday as the point on which we pause, and consider the story so far.  It is the conclusion of the first part of the liturgical year, where the emphasis is on what I learned to call the Life Cycle of Christ.  Viewed in that light, Trinity Sunday is when we put together (or put back together) each part of the revelation of the Godhead, when we so often seem to be dealing with its separate parts.  When we talk of the Father sending the Son, or the Son praying to the Father, or the Spirit descending on the Son, and so on (which I majored on in that first terrified sermon), we can forget the essential unity of the Triune God we worship.  There is, I believe, great value “in fitting Jesus” into the understanding of the one true God, before we then ask ourselves what it is to follow this God for the rest of our lives, which is the topic for the “second semester” of the liturgical year.

All of which leads me to the final point I want to stress here.  I said above that I was tempted to suggest that a theme for this feast could be “All or Nothing”.  I have become more and more convinced that there really are only two logical possibilities raised by the Christian story: either it is broadly and fundamentally true, or it is complete nonsense.  Either all things seen and unseen have their creative origin in the mystery we call God, derive their very existence from God, are sustained by God, and will eventually come into perfect harmony and unity in God, or we have been seriously misled into believing, and are seriously misleading others into believing, an extraordinarily elaborate hoax.

In the end it comes down to this.  Which of those two possibilities is most in accord with my own experiences, from the mundane to the ineffable?  The practice of preparing these Notes over the last four years and a bit have helped to bring me to the point that I can say I believe in God Almighty, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, the alpha and the omega, the All in All.

And I don’t care who knows it!

I value your comments, however they will need to be approved before publishing :)

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Notes for Reflection

November 15             NOTES FOR REFLECTION             Feast of Christ in All Creation*

Texts: Genesis 1:26-2:3; Colossians 1:15-20; John 1:1-14*

[*The Lectionary advises that this Feast may be celebrated on any of 3 Sundays this month, those Sundays falling this year on the 8th, 15th, and 22nd. (Somewhat bizarrely, it tells us in respect of the 15th and 22nd that it can be celebrated "today or last Sunday" – quite what help it is to be told what we could have done "last Sunday" escapes me.)  If it is significant enough to be an option on 3 Sundays we might think some suggested readings would not be too much to expect: alas, no such help is provided.  Two months ago I chose these readings for St Barnabas, Warrington: as with those for Remembrance Sunday last week, I cannot now recall where I got them from or why I chose them.  So your local faith community may not be celebrating this Feast this Sunday, and, if it is, it may be using different readings.  This is just a small example of the wonderfully complex web of life that we celebrate this week!]

Theme:  The title of the Feast is the obvious choice, perhaps in a more abbreviated form of "Christ in All Things".  Because I think there may be value in linking this Feast to the Nicene Creed, I'm going for "Things Seen and Unseen".

Introduction.  In the Nicene Creed we affirm our belief that God is "the maker of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen", and that "through [Jesus Christ, the only Son of God] all things were made".  This Feast Day gives us an opportunity to reflect on those beliefs and to celebrate the truth they witness to.  The Creed is so easy to recite, without grasping how staggeringly huge our beliefs are, or how often we escape from them into a sort of Walt Disney cuteness when we think of "Nature" (or, worse still, "Mother Nature") when we really mean "Creation".

I shouldn't put all the blame on Walt Disney: a far greater offender was Cecil Frances Alexander, who lived from 1818-1895.  In those 77 years he may well have done many praiseworthy things, but he also wrote that dreadful hymn "All things bright and beautiful".  Every time I hear it – at weddings, funerals, or Sunday services – I renew my promise to myself that whatever else I do in my retirement years I will write my own version of that trite nonsense.  I have already jotted down a few lines, including "the greenfly on the roses", and (in the spirit of Anzac) "the cane toads spreading south".  (All contributions gratefully received and future royalties shared.)

For a more realistic (and I would argue, a more spiritually healthy) approach we should turn to that great prophet and saint of the present day, David Attenborough, who shows us what "reality TV" ought to mean.  He also shows us what our response to the whole of creation (and not just meerkats and other cute things) should be.  His hallmarks are attention, respect and, above all, love.  Who but he could do a whole programme on frogs, for instance, and smile with delight at all they do and are?  There is never a hint that other creatures are there "for us", to be exploited for their "entertainment value" or turned into export earnings and tourist attractions.

But his programmes do challenge in much the same way as God's "answer" to Job.  Recently one of his programmes showed the astonishing challenges the young of many species face in the earliest stages of their lives. There was a species of bird (an albatross?) whose eggs were laid way up on the edge of a very high rocky cliff.  The parents fed the chicks for a few weeks, but soon it was time for them to leave the nest.  The mother took off with her mighty wingspan making it look easy.  But the chicks were months away from being equipped with wings capable of flight.  They had to jump off and hope for the best.  The best turned out to be a tumbling series of bumps and bounces down the rocky cliff-face.  How any of them made it to the ground alive is a mystery to me.

Other examples were given, where the predators knew where and when the young of their prey would be available in large numbers.  Then there are those who migrate over vast distances every year – the godwits are a good example.  Why on earth do they have to breed in one place and then live in somewhere else, thousands of miles away?  Ever heard of wastage in the system?  Ever heard of the productivity Council's recommendations?  Ever heard of living smarter, of doing more with less?  God our Creator is everything an orthodox economist is not.  God's approach to everything is found in extravagance and abundance.  In terms of human wisdom, not much of what is found in creation makes sense.  That's because its central tenet is love.  Love rarely makes sense, as another of our hymn writers makes beautifully clear in a poem he wrote in tribute to Mother Teresa.

Sydney Carter wrote the lyrics for "The Lord of the Dance", among others, which is not a bad choice for this Feast Day, incidentally.  Here are some extracts from his poem:

No revolution will come in time

to alter this man's life

except the one

surprise of being loved.

 

He has only twelve more hours to live.

 

Over this dead loss to society

you pour your precious ointment,

wash the feet

that will not walk tomorrow.

 

Mother Teresa, Mary Magdalene,

your love is dangerous...

 

But if love cannot do it, then I see

no future for this dying man or me.

So blow the world to glory,

crack the clock.  Let love be dangerous.

 

Okay, I confess that I have wandered rather a long way off theme here.  But this has been a terrible week in the news media, with the appalling mess around "Christmas Island" (and just think about the name of that place for a moment!) and our own Parliament sinking to depths not plumbed since the darkest days of Muldoon's descent into personal abuse and vilification.  Sometimes it's hard to remember, even in this month, that God our Creator IS working his purposes out, that the Kingdom Jesus proclaims IS coming on earth as in heaven, and that the Spirit IS still hovering over the whole of creation, making all things new.  We began this month celebrating all the saints whose lives and examples remind us of these great truths.  You won't find their names in any Church calendar or list of saints' days, but on my list David Attenborough and Sydney Carter are definitely included.

 

 Genesis 1:26-2:3.  There is no getting away from the fact that this, the first of our two creation stories, is problematic in what it says about the relationship between our species and all the others.  Words like "dominion" and "subdue" certainly support a more utilitarian or exploitative theology than the one I have attributed to David Attenborough.  But even in this account there is a clear recognition of the "rights" of other creatures – see verse 30 in particular.  Furthermore, the second creation story, centred on the creation of humankind in the context of the Garden supports a very different theology.  Here the key verse is 2:15 where the calling of humankind is "to till and keep it".  Perhaps the most important theme from all this is to hold in balance the undoubted uniqueness of humankind in God's eyes – we alone are made in God's own image and likeness – without in any way de-valuing other creatures, all of whom are made by God and all of whom are "good" in his eyes.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Imagine God holding a creature (of your choice) in his hand, looking at it with

attention, respect and love, smiling at it, and declaring it "good".

·        Now repeat the exercise with God holding in his hand the person you most dislike at this time.  After some time with this image, pray for that person.

·        Reflect on the notion of gift in verses 29 and 30.  Do you experience creation as a gift?  How often do you express that in prayers of praise and thanksgiving?

·        This Saturday (or Sunday if it's easier) reflect on 2:3.  Is Sabbath rest a blessing to you?

 

Colossians 1:15-20.  I come back to this passage time and time again because of its power to transcend all thoughts, words, and reason.  It is pure vision – its true source can only be the Holy Spirit.  Not even St Paul could have written this in his own strength.  Remember that he was writing this within 30 years, perhaps less, after Jesus' death on the cross.  To claim him as a great teacher, a man of compassion, as selfless, and as a man of supreme courage in the face of torture and death is one thing.  But to see this man in the terms St Paul summarises in this passage is truly mind-blowing.  We might say of someone today, "he/she if the most God-like or Christ-like person I have ever seen".  That would be a pretty powerful claim.  But Paul is saying far more than that here.  It is impossible to paraphrase this passage in any way that would do it justice; but notice at least three things.  First, Christ is the one in whom all things were made (v. 16); secondly, he is the one in whom all things hold together (v. 17); and thirdly, he is the one in whom "all the fullness of God" was pleased to dwell.    Christ is the biology of life, the physics of life, and the incarnation of God!  What more need we say?

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Take time for prayers of adoration and praise.  (And give thanks for St Paul.)

·        Read the passage several times during the week, slowly and prayerfully.

·        Read or recite the first few clauses of the Nicene Creed.  Notice how they pick up much of the language of this passage.  Bringing it to mind when you are next reciting the Creed in church.

·        Reflect on verse 19.  Notice how it is a perfect summary of the Incarnation, as we approach Advent and Christmas.

·        Pray for all those caught up in the Christmas Island tragedy.  Pray for reconciliation, guided by this passage.

 

John 1:1-14.  Remember that this beautiful passage is thought to be the author's meditation on the Genesis creation story in the light of Christ.   The key terms here are life and light, as they are in the Genesis story.  Whether we envisage creation as taking place through evolution or otherwise, our Scriptures tell us that life is indivisible – one life that is manifested in countless forms – and has but one source.  Similarly there is a sense in which we might speak of one light – not a thing or many things – but one source of illumination in the fullest sense of that word.  Christ is the manifestation of both that one life and that one light.  That is why we celebrate in this Feast his presence in all things, seen and unseen.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Physicists tell us that in everything that has substance there are atoms, molecules, and so on.  This week's readings say the same is true of Christ.  Ponder.

·        Christ is the source of all life and light.  What does that mean to you?

 

 

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Remembrance Sunday

November 8                           NOTES FOR REFLECTION             Remembrance Sunday*

*Texts: Isaiah 2:1-4; Psalm 120; Romans 8:31-39; Matthew 5:43-48

[* I realise that not everyone will be observing this commemoration.  Even if you are you may find these readings a little unexpected.  The Lectionary does include the commemoration as a possible option, but seems to rate it of little importance.  Instead of recommending appropriate texts it passes on a list of suggestions from "Common Worship: Times and Seasons".  Strangely, that list does not include anything from the Old Testament, and its inclusion of Psalm 23 (its only choice from the Psalms) is rather weak.  I chose these readings for St Barnabas, Warrington about 2 months ago, and cannot quite remember why.  In my defence I would argue that the choice of the passage from Isaiah (Micah 4:1-3 would have done just as well, of course) can be justified.  The alternative I considered was something from Lamentations 5 for its graphic portrayal of the sheer bloody horror of war.  However, the idea of that devastation being wrought by God as punishment for sin – rather than war being a natural consequence of human sin – is problematic, to put it mildly.  I can't recall why I chose Psalm 120, but verses 6 and 7 are on theme, and the whole psalm seems to me to have something that Psalm 23 lacks for this commemoration – a sense of outrage.  Romans 8:31-39 is on the suggested list, thus proving that I do not have a completely closed mind.  The gospel passage is not on the list, but jolly well should be!]

Theme:  "Remembrance Sunday" may be sufficient.  However, more and more it seems to me that the first response of people of faith to the horrors of war, terrorism, epidemics, and natural disasters must be to unite in heartfelt lamentation.  My choice of theme, therefore, is "A Time to Lament".

Introduction.  Isaiah reminds us that a key feature of God's dream for humanity (and, come to that, for the whole creation) is the abolition of war.  That's why Jesus, whose mission was to proclaim the coming of that Kingdom, requires his followers to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.  And that's why St Paul was able to proclaim the message he did to believers in Rome - of all places!

Background.  I am writing these notes on Thursday, 5th November, a very auspicious day for me personally, for Aotearoa New Zealand where I have lived for 48 years and 11 months exactly, and for the United Kingdom, the land of my birth.  (According to my mother, I was "due" on 5th November", but the war was on and I was considerably delayed!)  It is also the 11th anniversary of my service of institution as Vicar of the Anglican Parish of Port Chalmers- Warrington.  There is much for me to reflect on in all this, and I was reminded of it this morning when I heard a news item about the Maori Party Co-Leader, Marama Fox's campaign for this day to be changed from "Guy Fawkes Day" to "Parihaka Day" (or something relating to that event".

I should say at once that I am with her on this, both intellectually and emotionally.  I was particularly moved by her recollection of attending a bonfire night as a child and seeing a "guy" burnt on the fire – she described it as the scariest thing she had ever seen.  Amen to that!  My earliest memory is very similar, made all the more scary for me by my sister suggesting that I should sit on the guy – not a happy experience for a wee lad still a few days short of his third birthday!  But personal trauma aside, it has never made sense to me that we should be commemorating a terrorist plot to blow up the British Parliament in 1604, even though technically we are supposed to be celebrating the fact that the plot was unsuccessful and Mr Fawkes got his just deserts.  Who remembers that being explained to them around the bonfires of their childhood?

And who remembers the sacking of Parihaka on this day in 1881?  I chose this day in 2004 for my institution quite deliberately.  I was the chairman of the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship of New Zealand at the time, and the opportunity to make a statement was too good to miss.  Told I could choose a guest preacher for the service I chose my friend (now sadly deceased) Richard Sutton, then Dean of the Faculty of Law at Otago University, and invited him to speak about Parihaka.  He did so, and I awaited feedback with interest.  It came in the form of a number of comments to the effect that it was not the usual practice to have a lay person speak on such occasions as this.  On the topic of his sermon I received not one comment.

The Lectionary  invites us to remember "Parihaka Peaceful Resistance, 1881", and tomorrow refers to Te Whiti o Rongomai, Prophet, 1907.  (I haven't been able to find an entry for his partner in peace, Tohu Kakahi, but there may be one.)  The real question for me is exactly how are we to "remember" Parihaka" in a way that brings us together and does not invite us to take sides, apportion blame, claim innocence or guilt, re-write or re-interpret history, and so on.  In this sense "Parihaka" stands for all wars and confrontations, local, civil or international.  Follow the correspondence in the ODT every time someone dares to criticise Israel, for example – or the USA, for that matter – and you will find the complete inability most people have to transcend the particular issue and see it in terms of humanity rather than Israelis, Palestinians, or whoever.    Who's right and who's wrong seems to be our default setting, even when our own nation is not involved.

But can we not, as people of faith, remember that war is always a failure of love – it is always contrary to the will of God?  That, with all due respect to St Augustine (and many others), we human beings are not capable of fighting a war justly, even if there ever could be a "just" war?  Was the First World War a just war?  Was the Armistice Agreement a just outcome?  Do our answers to those questions necessarily depend on our nationality rather than our faith?  If we accept that Christians were involved on both "sides" does it not follow that for us all wars are civil wars – worse, all wars take place within the Body of Christ?

How then can we not lament together?  How then can we not see that Remembrance Sunday is a time to come before God weeping at our past failings – weeping for all those peoples of every nation and time who have been cut down by the savagery of war – and praying for God's mercy for our failure to seek first his kingdom ahead of the defence of our own?  By all means let us have a Parihaka Peaceful Resistance Day (without fireworks), so long as we use it to commit ourselves, Maori and Pakeha, to practising and preaching what Te Whiti and Tohu Kakahi preached and practised.  And then, on Remembrance Sunday, let us observe a day of lamentation for all our failures to do so.

Isaiah 2:1-4.  To get the full force of this extraordinary vision, we need to read on to the end of the chapter - and beyond.  In the NRSV that I am using there is a heading before verse 5: it reads "Judgment Pronounced on Arrogance".  In other words, having given this vision of God's dream for the world, Isaiah proceeds to show how far the chosen people ("the house of Jacob") has fallen short.  "Jerusalem" is supposed to be the centre of the world, calling all peoples back to God – a teaching centre for all humanity to learn God's ways, so that the day will come when that dream or vision becomes a reality.  Verse 4 is at the heart of the message.  It should be one of the most inspiring verses in Scripture.  But is it?

Taking It Personally.

  • Notice that here, and elsewhere in this Book, we are told that what follows is the word that Isaiah "saw", rather than heard.  What do you make of that?
  • Is there a sense in which making the Scriptures available to all the peoples of the world in their own languages is a part of the fulfilment of this prophecy?
  • Do you feel you are learning God's way and walking in his paths through reading and hearing the Scriptures?
  • What can you do help to bring about the reality of this vision?
  • What do you know about the history of Parihaka?  Do you want to learn more?  What do you feel about Marama Fox's suggestion to substitute "Parihaka Day" for "Guy Fawkes Day"?
  • Have you heard about the "Ploughshares Fund" and the "Ploughshares Movement", both of which have taken their inspiration from this passage?  Do you support them?
  • Pray for the United Nations, and for New Zealand's role as a member of the Security Council.
  • Pray for all those who have suffered, and those who are suffering today, from war, terrorism and other forms of human violence.

 

Romans 8:31-39.  Even by St Paul's own mystical standards this chapter never ceases to astonish.  To understand this passage we need to set it in the context of the earlier verses, to see what happens and will happen to humanity in the context of the whole cosmic plan of God.  Remember that for St Paul and those to whom he is writing, this is no dry theological investigation.  Rome is the centre of the world's great imperial and military power: for all its sophistication in everything from governance, transport, sanitation, medicine, and the arts, this is a civilisation based on brute military force which it will not hesitate to use in defence of its own interests whenever it senses a threat.  That includes a threat from pesky Christians refusing to sacrifice to the Roman gods or to recognise the Roman emperor as divine.  If ever there would seem to be a case for armed rebellion, or at least a willingness to fight in defence of one's own family, this would surely be it.  Yet St Paul urges his fellow believers to accept whatever comes, up to and including death, because only in Christ can Christians become conquerors.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

  • Go slowly through this passage.  Try to imagine that you are in serious danger of death for your faith.  Would this message be a comfort to you or not?  Why?
  • Verse 34 says that Christ intercedes for us.  What would you like Christ to ask for on your behalf at this time?
  • You may have heard the much-loved verses 38 and 39 quoted at a funeral.  Do you find comfort in them as you contemplate your own death?

 

Matthew 5:43-48.  In recent weeks we have been reminded of some pretty tough teaching from Jesus; but surely this one is the toughest of them all!  Most scholars agree that this passage has the strongest claim to have originated with Jesus if only because, if he didn't say it, none of his followers would have made it up.  And the fact that, as a matter of historical fact, the early Church was steadfastly pacifist until the 4th century strengthens the case.  Notice how Jesus brings it down to the personal and mundane.  He is not only teaching people to refrain from fighting; he is also urging us not to distinguish between friends and strangers.  And he does so on the ground that God does not distinguish between the righteous and the unrighteous, at least in terms of weather.  But the real shock comes in the last verse.   "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."  What?!

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Read this passage through very slowly.  Try to really hear what it is saying.  Pause, then notice your emotional response to this teaching.  How are you really feeling about it?

·        What one thing can you do this week that would be a step in the right direction in terms of this teaching?  Is there a relationship you could heal, an argument you could bring to an end, an apology you could offer, a change of attitude that you could make, or an unpleasant person you could pray for in all sincerity?

·        Ponder verse 48.  Do you agree that this seems to mean that the supreme test for a Christian is our attitude towards those we consider our enemies?  Do you even want to pass that test?


 

Friday, October 30, 2015

Notes for Reflection

November 1                           NOTES FOR REFLECTION             All Saints Sunday

Texts: Isaiah 25:6-9; Revelation 21:1-6a; John 11:32-44

Theme:  The title of the Feast Day is the obvious and safe bet, and avoids having to think of something more interesting.  I'm playing with the idea of the heavenly version of our Honours System – Sainthood being the Christian equivalent of knighthood/damehood, only more so.  Perhaps "Honours in the Kingdom of God", or, slightly more spicy, "Honour Among Saints".  But on balance, for reasons that will become apparent shortly, I'm leaning towards "Calling for Nominations".

Introduction.  We begin once more with Isaiah's glorious vision of the fulfilment of God's great vision for humanity, to be celebrated with the finest of feasts.  (Hint: saints are those people in every generation who have helped, are helping, and will help to bring forward that great time of completion.)  Moving forward several centuries, on the Island of Patmos St John the Seer re-calls to mind that same great vision and re-affirms its truth.  We finish with part of the gospel account of Jesus' calling of his friend Lazarus out of death and into his living presence.  A small case study of what the great vision looks like in microcosm.

Background.  I must confess that I have long struggled with this whole "saint" thing, and I suspect I am not alone in that, at least among fellow Anglicans.  This is one of the many areas, it seems to me, where what we teach and what we believe are two rather different things.  I can clearly remember being taught (and have since taught) that the biblical understanding of "saints" is simply "believers".  When St Paul addresses "the saints who are in Ephesus and are faithful in Christ Jesus" (Ephesians 1:1b), he is not referring to the 2 or 3 spiritual giants there who pray for 18 hours a day standing on one leg in ice-cold water with a contented smile permanently turned towards heaven.  He means the ordinary members of the faith community in that place.  In his eyes, all who believe in Jesus are saints, even us.

In the first parish in which I served, I once started our All Saints Day service by greeting the congregation, looking around and asking if there were any visitors present.  There were none.  Then I repeated the process, this time asking if there were any saints present.  There was one.  This was a congregation that, in Anglican terms, was broadly fundamentalist, proud of its spiritual gifts, and of its commitment to Scripture.  Yet only one person there that morning knew that he was a "saint" within the terms of the Bible.

In practice, of course, we don't believe that saints are just ordinary people like you and me.  They are the greats of the past (one qualification for sainthood seems to be death – no living saints allowed).  They are the ones who brought huge numbers to faith, taught with great wisdom, suffered agonising torture and death for their faith, and generally set the bar so high for the rest of us that, far from being inspired to follow their example, we are more likely to shrink into self-doubt and despair at the very thought that we might be able (or even willing) to "go and do likewise".  The modern procedure for canonisation, so far as I understand it, doesn't help matters much.  The need to prove at least two miracles attributable to the "candidate" seems problematic at best for all sort of reasons; and the seemingly automatic approval of popes soon after their death looks to me far too much like the conferment of a knighthood/damehood as of right to anyone who has held the office of Prime Minister.

Then there's the issue of "saintly portfolios"...  Suffice it to say that as a long-suffering supporter of Sheffield Wednesday I have found the intercessions of St Jude, the Patron Saint of Lost Causes, singularly ineffective.

But perhaps the greatest problem I have with the traditional view of saints is that they so-often come across as being models of self-obsession and self-denial, who simply did not enjoy the life to which they had been called.  There are not many of them I can easily envisage having a wonderful time at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb.  Look at the menu in Isaiah's vision this week: it is not ideal for people who have allowed themselves only a little bread and a sip of water once a day (except fast days), is it?  How do we follow Jesus and bring him honour when we follow John the Baptist's version of the paleo diet rather than Jesus' willingness to eat and drink with anyone who invited him? (Matthew 11:18-19).

All of which is a bit negative, isn't it?  So what should we look for in a saint, and whom should we recognise as a saint?  That's the exercise I set myself this week as I started to reflect on these scriptures.  I had been scribbling away for some time, before I noticed something a little awkward.  A few of the people on my list of nominees are dead, but most of them are very much alive.  Far more disturbing was the lack of Christians on my list – at least, a few of them are self-professed atheists and in the case of quite a few of the others I have no idea whether or not they profess faith in Christ.  Should I strike them off?  Perhaps, before rushing to answer that question, we might like to ponder again the great passage in the second half of Matthew 25 – the sheep and the goats.

And to be clear about our criteria for sainthood.  It happens that there is a very helpful article in today's (Thursday's ODT) (page 7) by Mark Edmunson, an American academic, writing about the modern ethics that tell us what we mustn't do or say, rather than what we should.  By contrast, he recommends Walt Whitman's approach, which he sums up like this:

He understood , I think, that the basis for lasting social change was not so much a hunger for justice and fairness but the feeling that, as different as we are, we all compose one being.  He was above all practical.  The best reason to put away hostility is not to be a goody-goody or to placate your super-ego but to contribute a little something to making life better for you and everyone else.  Don't be this!  Don't be that!   Let us replace those dictates with what Whitman prescribes.  Be friendly.  Try to be open.  Learn from other people.  Treat them fairly.  Do not let prejudices get in the way of a good time.

Doesn't that sound more like Jesus?  It happens that I had been reading recently an address by the then President of Eire, Mary McAleese, in which she referred to the Parliament of the World's Religions and its Declaration towards a Global Ethic of 1993, as follows:

The Declaration recognised the interdependence of all human beings on this small planet, the individual responsibility of each one of us for our actions and their consequences; our responsibility to treat others with respect; to forgive past wrongs; to extend a helping hand to those in need, particularly children, the aged, the suffering the disabled; to treat others as equals, respecting their diversity.

So for me a saint is any person who shows me how to live my life like that by living his or her life like that.  Saints are, as hinted above, people in every generation (including our own) who have helped, are helping, and will help to bring forward the completion of God's great vision for us all.  They include some of world-renown, of course, but they also include those "Good Sorts" we learn about at the end of the TV One news on Sunday evenings, "ordinary" people in local communities all over the country following (unknowingly) Walt Whitman's prescription, embodied in the Declaration towards a Global Ethic, and better known to us as "The New Commandment".

So this week, perhaps, you might find some time to start your list of such people.  Those who inspire and encourage you to make your contribution to the completion of God's salvation.  And remember to keep your list open.  There are saints all around us, countless as heaven's stars, if only we will pause to notice them, give thanks for them, and ask for the grace to emulate them.

Isaiah 25:6-9.  Simply read, enjoy, and be inspired.  This is what we have to look forward, this is what we are called to work and pray for.  Notice the sheer limitless extravagance of the whole vision.  There is no us and them, no insiders and outsiders (as long as we don't read on to verse 10!).  This is God's vision for all peoples and all nations.  This is the Kingdom of God in its final form.  And at the heart of it is a celebratory banquet!

Taking It Personally.

·        Sit with this passage.  Soak in it.  Let go of any negativity you may be feeling at this time.  Be glad and rejoice in God's salvation!

·        Copy it out and keep it with you each day in the coming week.  Read it after the TV News.  Recognise how far we still have to go, and re-commit yourself each day to pray and work more wholeheartedly for God's vision to become a reality.

·        What specifically can you do in the coming week to meet Walt Whitman's prescription?  What opportunities may you have to be kind to others, to be open to others, and to learn from others?  How willing are you to accept the kindness of others offered to you?

 

Revelation 21:1-6.  This passage is almost a re-run of the passage from Isaiah.  It is worth remembering that both passages came out of great difficulty and hardship.  John is in exile or imprisonment during a time of terrible persecution of Christians.  Many will have abandoned the faith, gone into hiding, done or said anything to escape with their lives.  Yet John sees, not hardship, defeat and death, but the glorious victory of God over all forces of evil.  He sees the "hidden" mystery of the Incarnation revealed and apparent to all.  He sees death abolished: he sees the completion of God's restoring salvation, bringing all things back into harmony with him, so that God is both the beginning and the end of all things.  The work of the saints is finally finished and they (we) shall take their (our rest).

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Do you believe it?  Do you proclaim it?  Do you seek to live it out at all times?

·        Review the past month or so.  In what ways has God been able to work his purposes out through you?  In what ways may you have been an obstruction to God's plan?

 

John 11:32-44. It's not hard to see why this gospel story has been chosen for this celebration, but it needs careful handling.  It is presented as a real event, rather than a parable.  It is worrying that, if it was a real event, the other gospel writers knew nothing of it, or, if they did, they didn't think it worth a mention.  In the context of our other readings, the temptation is to refer to it as a sort of "first-fruits" of the eventual abolition of death; but that would be claiming far too much.  Lazarus did not live for ever.  At some stage he died like everyone else.  If this was a real event, then it was an event of miraculous resuscitation, not one of resurrection to eternal life.  The details of this great story are well-known, but are still worth taking time over.  Jesus' mysterious delay in responding to his friends' summons; his own tears of grief; the ever-present split of opinion among the crowd of observers; the practical Martha, warning against the stench; the loud call to Lazarus to "Come out"; and the graphic appearance of Lazarus as he responded.  True story or parable, it is wonderfully well told!

 

Taking it Personally.

 

·        What may Jesus be calling you to come out of at this time?  By what may you be entombed or confined?  Could the tomb be a metaphor for your "comfort zone"?

·        Are you too "wrapped up" in something that restricts your ability to follow Jesus?

·        Do you want to be wholly free to follow him?

·        Does this story reflect the seriousness of death, or does it tend to encourage the "death is nothing at all" school of thought?  Is a funeral a time to weep or a time to laugh?


 

Friday, October 23, 2015

Notes for Reflection

October 25                             NOTES FOR REFLECTION

Texts: Jeremiah 31:7-9; Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52

Theme: The connection between the three readings this week is not quite as obvious as we might like.  Perhaps "restoration" is broad enough to link our first lesson with the gospel, but seeing in Jesus the "restoration" of the office of High Priest would be something of a stretch.  Perhaps the idea of the never-failing goodness of God (in Christ) could embrace all three readings, with some careful moulding.  However, this may be one of the weeks when it is best to concentrate entirely on the gospel passage for a theme, as here we have one of the great questions Jesus poses to us: "What do you want me to do for you?"  So my choice is "Making our Requests to Jesus".

Introduction.  We don't usually think of Jeremiah leaping around and giving high-fives to all and sundry, but this week his message is one of joyful assurance.  Despite their present circumstances and all other evidence to the contrary, God will gather up his people from wherever they have been scattered and bring them back to their own land.  Our second lesson continues to explore the concept of Christ as the new eternal High Priest, able and willing to intercede for us until the end of time.  We finish on the outskirts of Jericho, as Jesus leaves that city on his final journey to Jerusalem.  Above the noise of the watching crowds he hears the pleading voice of one blind beggar, known as Bartimaeus, and the beggar's life is changed for ever.

Background.  It's been a strange week for me, with Monday to Wednesday largely given to the arrangement, preparation and conduct of a funeral service for a lady who died peacefully at the age of 90 years.  By all accounts she was a loving and much loved person.  Towards the end of her life she was frail, and the general feeling among her family was that she was "ready to go".  While naturally sad, her children were also ready to let her go.  I was not surprised that no one raised with me the article that occupied the whole of page 11 in Monday's edition of the ODT World Focus.

Under a smaller, but red-type heading "Dying is the last thing we want to do", and a much larger white type-on-black-background heading "Keep cool and carry on", the article was about the booming cryonics business in the United States.  For the benefit of the uninitiated, cryonics is the process of freezing dead bodies (or, at the customer's option, just the brain), at very low temperatures and keeping them at those temperatures indefinitely in the belief that one day we will have the technology to bring them back to life.  Advocates of cryonics, we are told "insist the possibility of eternal life is getting ever closer."  [You will understand why, when I was committing our deceased lady's body to be buried "in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life in Jesus Christ our Lord" I had to concentrate particularly hard.]

The article mentions a number of organisations involved in this business, of which my favourite is called "The Alcor Life Extension Foundation", run by a couple called Max More and Natasha Vita More (no, seriously!).  This Foundation offers both options: brain-only freezing for $US 100,000, or the whole body for upwards of $US200,000, which certainly puts the average cost of a funeral in this country in a better perspective.  Of course, there are doubters, such as science writer Michael Shermer, who "has compared the idea to thawing out a can of frozen strawberries that, when defrosted, will simply turn to mush".  Oh, he of little faith!  We haven't got the technology now, but given another fifty years or so...  who knows what we will be able to do, at least with a can of frozen strawberries.

What's this all about?  The author puts it in context: "In the United States, the desire to live for ever (and to look good while doing it) has resulted both in a surge of interest in cryonics and in a booming anti-ageing industry.  Spending on anti-ageing products is expected to reach $US292 billion this year."  As another "prophet" of this movement, Dave Kekich, founder of the Maximum Life Foundation, put it: "We want to stay alive as long as possible.  But if that doesn't work, we want a plan B.  That's cryonics."

All of which made our Minister of Health's new plan to fight "the obesity epidemic" seem almost sane by comparison.  We can now tell parents not to smack their children, except in vaguely-described and limited circumstances, but we must not take away or limit in any way the parents' right to wreck their children's dental or physical health by feeding them excessive amounts of junk food and drink – even though the plan recognises that we now have obese four-year-olds.  More absurd still, we have State-funded schools providing such food and drink in their tuck-shops, and even selling such items in organised fund-raising activities.

Fundamentally, we are in denial that human life is designed (or, if you prefer, has evolved) to be healthy within certain limits.  We believe that we should be able to do anything we please that does not impinge directly on the rights of others, with no adverse consequences.  The adverse environmental effects of the intensification of agricultural were also highlighted once again this week.  Yet we go on clamouring for more of everything.  Enough is never enough.

After the service on Wednesday, the deceased was carried out and "laid to rest" in the family grave.  Perhaps that's just a euphemism, but the idea of entering into God's eternal rest is a very important part of the teaching of Scripture.  Each week, from the time of Moses, God's people have been called to observe a day of Sabbath – a day of rest.  Of course, we have long since abandoned that idea as an outrageous limitation on our freedom to please ourselves.  Next Monday we will pretend to celebrate "Labour Day" – a secular version of Sabbath – intended as gift – intended to protect us from slipping back into the slavery many of our early immigrants thought they were escaping from in the lands of their birth.  Do we now see them as progenitors of the Nanny State?  If so, it's not only Bartimeaus who needs his sight restored.

And talking of Bartimaeus I can't resist a reference to The Fred Hollows Foundation.  That Foundation insists that for every $25NZ donated, a blind person can have his/her sight restored by a simple cataract operation.  Just think what it could do with even 1% of the cost of a brain freeze or a full-body job.  And as for 1% of the annual turn-over of the anti-ageing products industry...!

Jeremiah 31:7-9.  Every day on our TV screens we are shown ever-more awful images of desperate refugees driven out of their homelands by the atrocity of those whose only interest in life is hanging on to their power or wresting it from others.  Any pretence that the conduct of war can be governed by international norms and protocols has long-since been shown to be delusional nonsense.  Particularly harrowing are the pictures of the babies and small children caught up in the desperate hordes facing more and more barriers as they try to find safe haven.  To people very much like these Jeremiah spoke these words of astonishing hope and comfort from God.  There will come a time when the horror is over, when their rights and dignity and safety will be restored in a land of their own.  And notice that the promise is made to all the people, not just the young, strong, healthy and economically useful ones.  Expressly mentioned are the blind, the lame, and those with children and even those in labour – all those who might seem to be a burden on others.  Far from scrambling through thickets or along barren tracks seemingly leading nowhere, God "will let them walk by brooks of water, in a straight path in which they shall not stumble".  Who can believe it?

Taking It Personally.

  • Have you experienced a time of estrangement or exile in your life?  Have you any such feeling at present?
  • Reflect on the issue of Kiwis being deported from Australia regardless of any real ties with this country.  What is your prayer for them?
  • Given the ongoing tensions between Israel and the Palestinians, what is your prayer for them?  Are these verses to be read as affirming any greater rights for Israel, or are they to be understood as addressed to all peoples?
  • What can you and your faith community do to assist in providing assistance to those driven from their homelands?

 

Hebrews 7:23-28.  Frankly, I'm not sure what if anything this passage adds to what we have already had in the last little while.  There may be a few Christians who find this passage really very helpful, but I must confess that I'm not one of them.  Suffice it to say that Christ, being God, is eternal – his saving work continues for all time.  Perhaps the most useful idea in this passage is that of Christ for ever interceding for us.

 

 

 

Taking It Personally.

 

  • Do you find this passage helpful?  If your answer is no, how do you feel about that?  Are you relaxed about saying so in front of others?
  • Focus on verse 25.  Imagine yourself "appearing before God" to have your life examined.  Then Jesus stands up and introduces you to God, speaking on your behalf, asking for God's mercy and forgiveness for you?  How do you feel about that?

 

Mark 10:46-52.  This passage completes a block of material that started way back at 8:22 with the story about the healing of a blind man at Bethsaida.  The whole block therefore, which is about the way of discipleship, begins and ends with the healing of a blind man.  Throughout this block it is the blind who see and the supposedly sighted (including the disciples) who are so often shown to be blind.  This week's story, the last before Mark's description of Jesus' Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem, is a perfect conclusion to this whole block of teaching on which we have been focused for the past few weeks.  Once again we are reminded that Jesus is on the journey.  Mark says he and his entourage were just leaving Jericho (Luke says they were just approaching it), the last major pause before Jerusalem.  There is still widespread misunderstanding and disagreement, including among the disciples, as to whether or not Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah, and if he is, what that means.  It is the blind man who loudly and firmly identifies Jesus as the Messiah by calling out to him as "Son of David", the best known Messianic title.  Once again the crowd try to shut up this powerless nobody (cf. 10:13).  Jesus stops – breaks his progress – and says "Call him here."  They say to the man, "Take heart; get up, he is calling you."  The man throws off his cloak, likely to be his only worldly possession (cf. story of the Rich man in 10:17-31), and then "he sprang up and came to Jesus".  Then came that great question: "What do you want me to do for you?"  (cf. John 1:38.)  The man tells him directly, and his request is granted.  The passage ends, "Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way".

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        This is another wonderful passage for praying with the imagination.  Put yourself into this scene: monitor your feelings and reactions as the encounter unfolds.  Are you a passive bystander?  Do you "shush" him with the crowd?  Or are you watching and listening carefully?

·        Now imagine Jesus turns to you and asks that same question: what do you want Jesus to do for you at this time?  Tell him clearly.  Do not let any other "voices", internal or external, deter you.

·        Focus on the closing words "and followed him on the way".  What do they mean to you?  Are you a follower of the Way?