Notes for Reflection

September 27                                                NOTES FOR REFLECTION

Texts: Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; James 5:13-20; Mark 9:38-50

Theme:  Nothing obvious comes to mind this week.  Something about "Inclusion and Exclusion" might cover some aspects of the first lesson and the gospel.  Both of those readings have a rather harsh tone, which might be better reflected by "Casting Out and Cutting Off."  Somewhat unusually, James offers a more peaceful approach this week, with his emphasis on healing, forgiveness and reconciliation.  His offering might suggest as a theme "It's the Putting Right that Counts".

Introduction.  Nostalgia, the re-writing of history and sheer bunkum are mixed with ingratitude and barely disguised blasphemy as the Israelites take grumbling to a new level in our first reading.  Wearing down Moses, a first step towards shared leadership is taken, but two "spares" are anointed along with the chosen seventy.  Predictably, this causes dissension.  James ends his Letter with some teaching on the importance of faithful prayer within the community of faith.  Far from any desire to cast out anyone, he urges members to go after those who have wandered away and attempt to bring them back.  In our gospel passage there is still no sign of improvement among the disciples.  This week they add to the long and growing list of their failings an attempt to bar someone purporting to carry out exorcisms in Christ's name "because he was not following us".  In particularly harsh language Jesus tells them to take their own sin more seriously.

Background.  The words from this week's gospel passage just quoted are not happily chosen in the NRSV: I prefer the NIV phrase "because he was not one of us".  That is a much more common and even more chilling phrase that we hear, read and even think far too often.  We constantly and almost unconsciously divide people into "us" and "them", "our people" and "other people", or more simply "we" and "they".  Relatively harmless examples have already come up in the press coverage of the World Rugby Cup.  When England started their campaign with a bonus point win over Fiji our press described their performance as "scrappy and unconvincing".  When the All Blacks struggled their way past Argentina we were assured that it was only to be expected that "the boys" would be a bit rusty as they haven't played for 4 weeks.  And imagine the uproar there would have been if the English captain or the French captain had been caught deliberately tripping an All Black player.  Was Richie cheating?  Good heavens, no!  He just made a dumb mistake! (Cf. Mark 9:45!)

In a far more serious context I was caught out when listening to a recent edition of "The Panel" on National Radio.  The discussion was about the "Refugee Crisis" in Europe, and somebody had raised the issue of why everyone was poking their finger at Europe.  Why weren't the Arab nations reaching out to the refugees – after all, they were their own sort of people?  I must confess that my first reaction was to think, "That's a good point.  What's the answer to that?"  I only had to wait a nanosecond to find out.  One of the panellists, Steve McCabe, exploded; "That's outrageous racist nonsense!  What do they mean, 'Their sort of people?'  WE are their sort of people, for heaven's sake!  There is only one sort of people, and it's called 'human beings'!"  Ouch!

A somewhat shell-shocked Jim Moira, who chairs the panel, then sought the opinion of an academic lawyer with a special interest in international law.  He told us that the three countries that presently have the highest number of Syrian refugees within their borders are Lebanon, Jordan and Turkey.  However helpful those facts would have been to the discussion before the "explosion", they seemed strangely irrelevant afterwards.  The argument should not be who has the greater responsibility to help the refugees – or who is and who is not doing their bit, as our Prime Minister likes to put it.  Compassion is not a competitive sport or an international contest for point-scoring.  The teaching embodied in the much-loved Parable of the Good Samaritan makes no mention of quotas.  One victim, two victims or half a million victims... the call to go and do as the Samaritan did surely remains the same.

It's probably unfair to single out Hungary for special mention in this context.  But I remember the horror and outrage many of us in Britain felt when that country was invaded by the Soviet Union in the dark days of the Cold War; and many years later, standing in a cold, wet and windy Basin Reserve in Wellington, I watched a soccer team (I'm pretty sure it was even called "Hungaria") that only existed because New Zealand (along with many other countries, of course) accepted refugees from that country following that invasion.   Moreover, the fact is that the present-day Hungarian Government has specifically made faith part of the argument.  Hungary, they say, is a Christian country, and will only accept Christian refugees, not Moslems.  Hopefully, in that self-professed Christian country someone soon will draw attention to this week's gospel passage.

This very week in New Zealand we have had other "interesting facts" thrown into the mix.  First, came news that we have had record net migration – a gain of over 60,000 people, about half of whom were Kiwis returning home, and half were new migrants.  We are assured by our leaders that this is all to the good, it is a vote of confidence in our economy, and we need to boost our population if we are going to prosper as a country.  Secondly, we heard that one man, an over-stayer from Kiribati, is to be deported to his homeland, even though he has New Zealand-born children and he is unlikely to be able to provide for them well in his homeland.  How can it be that we can comfortably accommodate an influx of 60,000 long-term migrants, but cannot allow this man and his family to remain in New Zealand?  It is hard to avoid the conclusion that he is not "one of us", because he is not highly skilled and educated, and therefore useful to us.  The migrants, presumably, are more likely to be "our sort of people".

Perhaps more people should listen to The Panel, at least when Steve McCabe is on.

 

Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29.  This reading gets off to a fascinating start!  Notice the opening phrase in verse 4: "The rabble among them...!"  Here we go again!  But wait – "and the Israelites also wept again..."It's almost as if the author is tempted to blame the uproar on the non-Israelites, but is overcome by the weight of the facts of the case.  Be all that as it may, it must have been particularly galling for Moses to hear the nonsense recorded in these early verses.  He had risked his ancient neck to lead them out of slavery, only to hear what a wonderful time they had had when they feasted on a quasi-paleo diet of fruit and vegetables.  The final blasphemous straw is their criticism of the manna itself.  (The Christian equivalent would be a complaint that the Communion wafers are colourless and tasteless: why can't they be pink or peppermint-flavoured for a change!  Moses is so cheesed-off that he complains to God about the burden God has imposed upon him.  If this is what God has in mind for him he would rather lie down and die.  But God has a plan to lessen the load: he will anoint 70 elders to share in Moses' ministry – notice how God took some of the spirit he had given to Moses and shared it among the elders.  Then comes the fun bit!  Two of the elders hadn't made it to the ordination gathering – they were still lolling about in base camp.  Nevertheless, they were anointed, too.  Some bright young toady seeking to make a name for himself raced off to report these two men to Moses.  Joshua, Moses' assistant and heir-apparent, demanded that Moses close them down immediately, but Moses would not listen.  In a victory for inclusion, he expressed a wish that everyone might receive the anointing of God's spirit.

Taking It Personally.

• Are you inclined to romanticise the good old days?  Choose a decade in your life at least 20 years ago, and reflect on it.  Was life better, worse, or about the same for you then compared to the present time?  What do you most miss from that time and why?  What are you most glad to have left behind from that time, and why?
• Do you feel the weight of any particular burden at this time?  Is there someone who could share that with you to lessen your load?  Would you welcome that?
• Are you open to sharing responsibility with others, or do you like to keep things in your own hands?  Do you find delegation easy or hard?

 

James 5:13-20. This closing passage has all the tone of the "calm after the storm".  It's as if James has get a few things off his chest and is now feeling much more kindly towards those he is addressing: look back at verses 1-6 of this chapter, and then notice the change of tone through verses 7-12 and into this week's passage.  Now he urges them to pray with faith, for themselves and for one another; and to confess their sins to one another.  (Here perhaps is a link with this week's gospel passage.)  Notice how verses 15 and 16 draw very little distinction between healing and forgiveness – sin and illness.  Finally, James stresses the importance of going after those who wander from the way and attempting to bring them back.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• When you are unwell, are you willing to ask your local faith community for prayer for healing?  Can you recall receiving such prayer in the past?  Was it effective?  Have you received anointing with oil with prayer for healing?
• Are you always willing to pray for healing for others when asked?
• How do you feel about confessing your sins to others, whether privately or in the congregation?
• Has there been a time in your life when you wandered away from the Church?  Did anyone attempt to bring you back?  Would you have welcomed such an attempt?
• Have you ever attempted to bring such a wanderer back to the Church?  If not, why not?

 

Mark 9:38-50.  In preparation for reflecting on this passage, begin by reading through this chapter from verse 2 onwards.  As you do so, notice that one of the connecting themes in this chapter is the persistent failure on the part of the disciples to understand Jesus' teaching, not just in detail but also in terms of his whole vision.  That provides a good guide to what is really going on in these two episodes.  The disciples report to Jesus that they have come across someone purporting to perform exorcisms in his name and attempted to stop him because "he was not one of us".  (This just a short while after they had failed to cure the epileptic boy: verse 18).  To them this is about brand protection or patent law, not about healing the possessed!  Notice how Jesus turns the issue around in verse 41: suppose an "outsider" gives you (disciples) a drink in my name...  Ah, yes!  Then Jesus gets really tough on them with some of the toughest language to come out of his mouth.  He warns them not to do anything that might lead others into sin, and then warns them not to let themselves be led into sin by their own hand, foot or eye (symbolic, perhaps, of anything they may grasp, trample on or lust after.)

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• If you tend towards a sentimental view of Jesus ("gentle, meek and mild") hold yourself in the firing line and really listen to this tirade.  Do you take your own sin seriously enough, do you think?
• How do you feel about other churches appearing to be "more successful" than your own?
• What do you think Jesus refers to by the word "salt" or "saltiness" in verses 49-50?  Is your faith as salty as it ever was, or has it lost some of its saltiness over the years?
• Do you feel that you understand Jesus' teaching, or, like the disciples, are you still baffled by it sometimes?

Notes for Reflection

September 20                                                NOTES FOR REFLECTION

Texts:   Jeremiah 11:18-20; James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a; Mark 9:30-37

Theme:  All sorts of possibilities seem to be on offer this week.  The main point of all three readings seems to suggest something about the spiritual perils of personal ambition.  "Shoot the Messenger" could do for our first lesson, "Every Man for Himself" (or some gender-inclusive version) for the second; and "Pick me!  Pick me!" for the gospel reading.  All of which is a pretty more comment on our human nature, isn't it?  Perhaps "Going Counter-Cultural" is a fairly calm, but potent theme, particularly if we're putting the emphasis on the gospel teaching, except that the whole Gospel is counter-cultural!  I'm playing safe and going for "Downward Mobility" or "Downwardly Mobile".

Introduction.  There is something about Jeremiah that suggests to me that he would have been a natural for "Reality TV", Facebook and Twitter!  He holds nothing back, sharing his feelings on every occasion.  This week he even reveals to us an astonishing naivety; apparently he had no idea that the power elite were so enraged by his prophetic utterances against them that they were plotting his downfall.  Also in reality TV mode James takes us inside the life and times of the infant church and reveals power struggles, back-biting, and sheer nastiness that suggests that their conversion was far from complete.  And once again we have a rather unflattering portrait of Jesus' hand-picked disciples, afraid to ask Jesus what he is talking about, and equally afraid to tell him what they have been talking about!

Background.  Last Sunday my daughter was a participant in the Cadbury's Half-Marathon in Dunedin.  Please notice immediately the word "participant" rather than "competitor".  No doubt, for a small percentage of the hundreds of runners and walkers in the various events it was a competition – they were there to win their event if they possibly could.  But for all the rest, if they were competing at all, it was with themselves; for those who had run in similar events before they were perhaps hoping to improve their personal best time; for first-timers, a s more modest goal, perhaps, of trying to prove to themselves that they could get to the finishing line and live to tell the tale.  For some the aim was simply to have fun and get their friends to take selfies.  A few were in fancy dress – others were using the event to publicise and raise funds for a charitable cause.  Gathered at the start of the half-marathon run and walk outside the stadium were all shapes, sizes, ages and degrees of fitness.  The Olympics, it was not – it was something far better than that.  It was a shared adventure, where everyone was cheered and supported.  Not a national flag in sight, and all the better for it.

Who was the greatest of all?  Well, I guess someone was declared the winner in each event; but there were no losers in any of them.  Perhaps it was summed up for my by a placard my daughter noticed as she jogged along: a spectator held up a sign which read, "I'm proud of you, complete stranger!"  Yes, for me it was a special moment when, standing at the finishing line I saw my daughter coming down the last stretch (it would have been hard not to see her in her purple and pink outfit!), smiling contentedly as she realised that she was inside her target time in just her second ever half-marathon.  And what made the moment even more special was the realisation that I wasn't the only one cheering her and the other participants as they completed the events.  Complete strangers were proud of all the participants and didn't mind showing it. 

I arrived home to the news that the British Labour Party had elected a new leader, Jeremy Corbyn, who was probably the first leader of the Party since Michael Foot to be left of the Conservative Party.  Tony Blair, a self-professed Christian, has not let his faith prevent him from launching a series of attacks on Mr Corbyn, whose great sin is said to be that he is "unelectable".  [Nobody ever said that of Ed Milliband, who failed at the last election – beaten by the "unelectable" Mr Cameron.]  Be all that as it may, the thing that may be over-looked in all this hand-wringing and axe-grinding is the nature of the man.  Alone of the candidates, Mr Corbyn had never sought the office – he had to be persuaded to stand; and alone of the candidates he never criticised the others.  He stood on principle and policy, not personality.  I feel fairly confident that St James would have voted for him.

Also on Sunday came the news that Tony Abbott was once again facing a rebellion in the ranks, and this time he was unable to hold on.  As he had taken the leadership from Mr Turnbull in a very similar manner, he might find sympathy hard to come by.  But when one of Mr Turnbull's most ardent supporters described him as "fiercely ambitious" (he meant it as a compliment!) I realised that St James would either have abstained or voted for Mr Abbott.

The temptation for us is to assume that all such power plays are confined to the world of politics.  The present wrangle over the flag is routinely described as "politicians being politicians", as if the rest of us would never dream of engaging in such behaviour.  Really?  Have you never witnessed it in your family, in your place of employment, in your social clubs, or in your local church?  I once joked to the then Bishop of Wellington that after working in the parliamentary world for nearly 20 years I got so interested in politics I joined the Church.  It wasn't long before I realised why the Bishop felt my remark was more prophetic than funny.  I have attended four electoral Synods, two in the Diocese of Wellington and two in the Diocese of Dunedin, and at each I have seen and heard behaviour that was on a par with the worst I experienced in my parliamentary years.  I have advised three Bishops from time to time who were threatened with legal action by members of the Church displeased with some decision or other; and I have seen many instances where someone has refused to stand down gracefully from a position or ministry to make space for someone else.

Who is the greatest among us?  Those who willingly participate but never compete.  That's what I learned last Sunday, the first Sunday in a very long time that I wasn't attending a church service.

Jeremiah 11:18-20.  When it comes to "unelectability" Jeremiah would have to be the standard- setter!  It was not his fault, of course, but "just following orders" is never a strategy that wins understanding and acceptance.  A prophet's job is always the same: to speak Truth to those who do not want to hear it.  The Truth Jeremiah was given to speak was particularly unpalatable: because of continual disobedience, God was going to punish the nation big-time.  Rather than take heed of the message, the power elite plotted to silence the messenger.  In verse 19 Jeremiah claimed to have been quite unaware of the plot against him.  God, however, forewarned him, and he put his faith in God.  Notice that he wanted, not just vindication and personal safety, but divine retribution against the plotters.  All very natural, if not particularly holy!

Taking It Personally.

·        Do you find the distinction between "participants" and "competitors" helpful or unhelpful in the context of your local community of faith?  Which are you?

·        Are you aware of any "power struggles" within your local community of faith?  What is your view of them?

·        Have you ever sought a particular position or ministry, or do you wait to be asked?  Are you willing to stand aside and allow others the opportunity to take over, or are you inclined to "defend your turf"?

 

James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a.  St James is as direct as ever.  In language very similar to Paul's in his Corinthian correspondence, he paints an excruciating picture of the early church as a nest of envy and selfish ambition, which necessarily produce "disorder and wickedness of every kind".  He urges them to seek "wisdom from above", better known to us, perhaps, as the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  His description of the fruits of such wisdom is similar to Paul's description of the fruits of the Spirit.  In this context, note especially the phrase "willing to yield" in verse 17.  James is also like Paul in being a great psychologist: his analysis of the root of the problem in the opening verse of chapter 4 is masterly.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        This is a good passage to use for a personal spiritual stock-take.  Read it through slowly and prayerfully, asking the Holy Spirit to "underline" for you any words or phrases that you need to ponder.  Monitor your feelings as you work your way through the passage.  Note particularly any discomfort you may feel.

·        Call to mind any situation in your life where there is or has been conflict.  What light, if any, does this passage shed on that situation, and the way in which you and others involved have behaved?

·        Pray for an extra helping of "the wisdom that comes from above" whenever you feel tensions rising.  Be "willing to yield" when the Spirit guides you to do so.

 

Mark 9:30-37.  One of my priestly mentors once told me of a strategy he developed early in his ministry for coping at parish meetings when things were becoming a bit heated.  He imagined Jesus sitting down with his disciples, looking around the room, and thinking to himself, "I must have been out of my tree when I chose this lot!"  A bit disrespectful, perhaps, but I've used this approach myself on occasion and it does help bring down my blood pressure.  This passage is one of those where Jesus himself might have been pushed into using it.  Despite everything he had taught and shown them, despite Peter's Spirit-led proclamation of Jesus' true identity as the Messiah, and despite even the vision of the Transfiguration, the disciples still didn't seem to have grasped what he was talking about in speaking about his forthcoming death and resurrection.  Worse, they were too afraid to ask him for an explanation.  They then set off for base camp in Capernaum, and on the way they seemed to be having a heated discussion among themselves – not about who Jesus is and what is going to happen to him – not even about Jesus at all.  They were arguing among themselves about their own relative "merits" – who among them was "the greatest"?  Little wonder that, when Jesus asked them what they were arguing about, they were afraid to tell him!  No doubt, their criteria of greatness related to their "spiritual gifts" – or their ability to convince others – or their steadfastness in the face of opposition, or whatever.  And it was all about competition, not participation.  Jesus turned the whole argument on its head.  The real criterion for measuring discipleship is the willingness or otherwise of the disciple to serve others.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        A good passage for praying with the imagination.  Put yourself among the disciples.  Listen to their discussions about what Jesus means.  Do you understand what Jesus has said?  Is there anything you would like to know from Jesus but are too afraid to ask?

·        Follow along the road with them as they start debating their relative merits.  How do you feel about this?  Does it remind you of similar discussions you have witnessed in your local faith community?  Or in your family?

·        Are you willing to be the "servant of all", even if your service often goes unnoticed?

·        Reflect on verses 36 and 37.  What point is Jesus trying to make to his disciples here?

·        How well does the Church fulfil its role as servant of all?  Is it too closely aligned with the power elite of our society? 

·        Would Jesus' teaching mean that he is "unelectable" today?

 

 

 

Notes for Reflection

September 13                                                NOTES FOR REFLECTION

Texts: Isaiah 50:4-9a; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38

Theme:  It really picks itself this week, I think.  However we might phrase it, the identity of Jesus is surely THE question at the heart of the Christian faith, whatever those of a more liberal persuasion might think.  So I'm going with "Recognising Jesus".  Of course, for devotees of James a tempting alternative could be "Tongue-Tamers Anon", or "Hold Your Tongue" or, more plainly, "For God's Sake, Shut Up!"

Introduction.  Every week is a good week when we start with Isaiah, so this is another good week.  Today's passage is the third of the so-called Servant Songs, featuring listening to God, doing God's will, suffering for it without retaliation, and ultimate vindication by God – not a bad summary of the life, mission, death and resurrection of Christ!  Our second reading is again from the unruly pen of James, who clearly has had a lifetime of struggles (not always successful) with his own tongue and assumes that we all suffer from the same complaint.  The gospel narrative in Mark has reached the pivotal point:  Peter proclaims that Jesus is the Messiah, and then blots his copy-book big time by failing to hold his tongue!  The whole idea of his friend and Messiah suffering death on a cross is too much for him.  And that's before he realises that Jesus expects all his followers to pick up their own crosses.

Background.  One of the classic spiritual exercises that I have managed to follow fairly regularly over the years is that of "spiritual reading".  In convents and monasteries this often involved reading, or having read to them, the lives of the saints, which were more often hagiographies than biographies as we would expect today.  Also included in the genre were the writings of the great mystics of the Church, such as Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, Catherine of Siena and Bernard of Clairvaux.  In modern times our tastes may be more towards Thomas Merton or Ruth Burrows, Richard Rohr, Thomas Keating or Cynthia Bourgeault, all of which I have found helpful and enlightening and would certainly include their work on any list of "spiritual reading" I was asked to suggest.

Making a regular practice of "spiritual reading" does not mean, of course, that we cannot read other things, whether to become better informed about some area of interest, or for sheer enjoyment and relaxation.  This week, for example, my spiritual reading has been focused on Richard Rohr's typically helpful little book Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer, while for sheer enjoyment I have been reading Ian Rankin's Exit Music, featuring the increasingly irascible D.I. John Rebus.  As the title suggests, Richard Rohr's thesis is that EVERTHING, when looked at through the eyes of faith, is capable of speaking to us of the presence and glory of God.  That being so, perhaps the old distinction between "spiritual reading" and "other" is itself invalid.

That may explain why it is that I have spent time this week reflecting on something I came across, not in Richard Rohr's book, but in Ian Rankin's.  Inspector Rebus, in his last week before retirement, coins a new (for me) word – "overworld".  He uses it by way of contrast to the word "underworld", and even thinks, as a police officer, "that it wasn't so much the underworld you have to fear as the overworld".  The overworld is inhabited by people of power and influence, who always know whom to contact when they have a favour to ask.  Rebus has a rather jaundiced view of those people "with their games of golf and their 'quiet words', their stitch-ups and handshakes, palm-greasing and scratching of backs".  This is his version of what we more politely refer to as the "old school tie brigade" or the "old boys' club".  What specifically had brought this on for Rebus was a case involving a young woman caught up in minor drug offending, who happens to be the first person to discover a murder victim in the street.  It soon emerges that she was in the street because she was visiting one of her "customers", who happened to be the step-daughter of a banker, a prominent citizen of the overworld.

Rebus interviews her in his usual direct style, and within hours he is hauled before the Chief Constable and the said banking step-father, and ordered to drop the matter.  Rebus reacts by being extremely rude to both men.  Reflecting afterwards he knows why he lost his cool: It was the casual arrogance that had flipped his switch, Addison [the banker] sitting there in the full confidence of his power – and the step-daughter's arrogance, too, in thinking one weepy phone call would make everything better. It was, Rebus realised, how things worked in the overworld.

There was a time when we believed in a three-tier universe, with heaven above, hell below, and the earth in-between.  As I reflected on this strange new word "overworld", it seemed to me that Rebus was painting a new version of that old model, with the underworld below, the overworld above, and the rest of us in the middle.  Most of us, from time to time, have worried about the underworld and the power they have to harm us.  But how many of us have looked up and realised the threat of harm we face from above?  Yet according to Rebus, we have more reason to fear the citizens of the overworld than the denizens of the underworld.  How so?

Because they have more power, and they know how to wield it to get what they want and to protect themselves from the consequences.  Two quick examples come to mind.  Who caused the Great Financial Crisis, the underworld or the overworld?  Who bore the brunt – the bankers or the taxpayers?  Who decided to invade Iraq because it possessed weapons of mass destruction that did not in fact exist?  Who bore and who is still bearing the cost of that?

Look now at this week's gospel passage.  Notice where it is set – Caesarea Philippi, an overworld city if ever there was one.  And there, in the shade and shadow of all the architectural pomp and glory of Rome's power, Jesus, an itinerant preacher, and his strange small band of followers hold a short discussion about who he is and what is going to happen to him.  He will die between two members of the underworld, but it is not their compatriots who will kill him, is it?  That privilege (pun intended) belongs as always to those who dwell in the overworld.

Jesus comes to us and calls us to follow him into a new world, which he calls the Kingdom of God.  It will replace both the underworld and the overworld.  With Peter we are called to proclaim who Jesus is.  Neither the underworld nor the overworld is likely to want to hear.  Which of those is likely to be more of a threat to us?  John Rebus' money is on the latter.  So is mine.

Isaiah 50:4-9a:  This passage begins with something of a surprise.  To us a teacher's primary task may be to impart knowledge, or at least to show how to acquire knowledge.  But here the task is to offer a word that will 'sustain the weary' – a word to encourage those who are flagging, to offer hope to those who are dispirited.  But such a teacher must first learn, not from other teachers (as the Scribes were said to do in Jesus' time), but by listening daily to God.  Here we have a clear reference to daily spiritual practice, listening prayer or meditation.  Verse 5 may remind us of last week's gospel passage where Jesus opened the ears of the deaf man so that he could hear and then speak plainly.  Verse 6 takes us immediately to the Cross and the Lord's Passion.  But the Servant stands firm in the belief that God will vindicate him.  We remember that whenever Jesus spoke of his forthcoming death he also expressed his conviction that God would raise him back to life.

Taking It Personally.

• Reflect again on the story of the deaf and mute man from last week.  Now suppose you are asked to speak to someone about your faith.  Would you find that easy or hard?  If you would find it hard, is that because you don't know what to say (you have not heard God's word enough) or you do not know how to say it – you feel tongue-tied?
• If you do not already do so, try to start each day (or, if that really is impossible, set aside some other period during the day) to sit in silence and hear what God is saying to you.
• Would you like to have "the tongue of a teacher" – remembering that such a tongue is to enable the teacher to speak to the weary?
• Can you recall a time when someone spoke such a word to you when you were weary?
• Have you received criticism or rejection because of your faith?  How did you respond?  Did it discourage you from speaking about your faith?

 

James 3:1-12: James seems to be thinking of the more conventional understanding of the role of a teacher here; but it's not entirely clear what sort of "mistakes" he has in mind in verse 2.  Certainly it might include behaviour by the teacher that is inconsistent with the teaching given by that teacher; but the reference to "mistakes in speaking" suggests that he may be worrying about "incorrect" teaching, leading people away from the truth, etc.  Be that as it may, the rest of the passage strongly suggests that he is also concerned at the harm a wilful tongue can do, and the power of his language here strongly suggests that he has had a lot of difficulty with his own tongue over the years.  If tradition is right that this author is James, one of Jesus' blood brothers, he may even be thinking of the times when he said a few things to Jesus that were somewhat less than fraternal and loving!

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Reflect on the last week or so.  Have you been in full control of your tongue at all times?  Or did something "just slip out" that you now regret? 

·        Reflect on verses 9-12, particularly if you are a strong singer on Sunday mornings.  How can it be that we use our tongue to praise God and denigrate others?  Is there a sense in which we need to consecrate our tongue, to make it holy?  Try that for a day, and if you succeed, try it again the next day!

 

Mark 8:27-38.  Jesus' opening question is an interesting one.  We assume that everyone is talking about Jesus and all have an opinion to offer.  But is that really likely, particularly in a place like Caesarea Philippi?  It is much more likely that Jesus is inquiring about the prevailing view among those who have been following him.  Among them there seems to be a general consensus that he is a prophet.  Then comes the key question: who do you say I am?  Peter responds in faith, but his triumphant beam at saying the right thing for a change is quick to leave his face.  In one of the toughest interchanges between Jesus and any of his disciples, Peter tells Jesus not to talk like that, and Jesus tells him in turn to stop doing the devil's bidding.  Jesus then calls the crowd forward and tells all of them that no one can be a follower of his who is not prepared to lose his or her life for the sake of the gospel

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Notice the contrast between the 'in-house" conversation between Jesus and the disciples in verses 27-30 and the teaching to the crowd in the remainder of the passage.  Are you more comfortable or less comfortable talking about your faith in Christ to other Christians or to people outside the Church?

·        Make a list of the views you have heard about who Jesus is: a good man, a great teacher; just one of many: and so on.  Then pause, ponder the question deeply, imagine your answer is going to be broadcast to everyone who knows you: and then say out loud "I believe Jesus is..."

·        Have you ever denied believing in Christ?  Can you imagine a situation in which you might do so?

·        What for you is involved in taking up your own cross to follow Jesus?