Friday, July 11, 2008

Faith in the World

 

Texts:  Exodus 19:2-8a; Romans 5:1-8; Mathew 9:35-10:8

Of all the many seminars I have been to in the last 20 years or so one of the few that has stuck in my mind was one led by Richard Randerson in Palmerston North in 1992, or thereabouts.  It was on the subject of faith in the workplace; and we participants were encouraged by Richard to carry out an audit of our working life from the perspective of our Christian faith.

As I remember it, the audit had 4 steps to it.  The first step was to define the purpose of the enterprise for which we were working.  What does your employer do, and what is the connection (if any) between that and the Gospel?  That's step one.  Step two was to assess how that employer carried out that purpose.  How did he, she or it conduct business, in other words – ethically or otherwise?  How were staff treated?  How were customers treated?  How were suppliers treated?  How were competitors treated?  Was the law scrupulously followed, including the tax law?  So the first two steps were concerned with the nature of the business, and the manner in which the business was conducted.

The third and fourth steps formed a similar pair.  They focused on our own role in the business, and the manner in which we performed that role.  What in a sentence was your job in that undertaking, and how ethically (or otherwise) did you perform it?

Well, some of the participants didn't have too much difficulty with the first step, identifying the core business of the enterprise and relating it to the Gospel.  For instance, one of the participants was a medical practitioner, in a practice she shared with three other doctors.  She identified the purpose of the practice as being to give good medical care to their patients, and she felt sure that the practice was conducted ethically.

But there was one guy there who was a very quiet, shy, reserved sort of person, someone I knew by name and sight from the local church, but knew nothing about him, and I was surprised to see him there.  When it came to his turn, he told us that he was a soil scientist based at Massey University (although I think he was employed by DSIR in one of its many incarnations).  I don't think for a moment that he was ashamed about it – but his manner suggested that he was sorry to be spoiling the party.  He was quite sure that not even Richard could find any connection between what he did as a scientist and what he believed as a Christian. 

Which, of course, was wrong.  Richard rose to the challenge.  "So your outfit is concerned with the improvement of our soils?"  "Yes."  "Improvement from what point of view?"  "Productivity."  "Measured in food production?"  "Yes."  "You are seeking to increase crop yields?"  "Yes – and their quality."  "So you're in the business of feeding the hungry with more and better food?"

Sixteen years later I can still remember the look on that man's face at that point.  For what seemed a long time he just stared at Richard; then very slowly he broke into a wonderful smile as the penny dropped.  It was one of those encouraging moments when it seems that teaching does sometimes make a difference.  It certainly made a difference in that man's case.  He suddenly saw that his work was also his ministry.  But Richard wasn't quite finished with him.  He asked him why he had become a soil scientist; and by this time the guy had become quite voluble.  He talked about his passion for science, the intellectual challenges of research, and his pleasure in seeing the practical application of his work on the research farm at the site.  When he finished, Richard said, "It sounds to me that you have found your true calling", and the guy readily agreed.  I'm not sure whether he thought about the religious weighting of that word, but Richard was surely right to use it.

That guy did not need to be a lay minister on a Sunday morning, or a pastoral visitor, or a member of Vestry to have a ministry.  He already had been called into a marvellous ministry, harnessing his passion and his gifts, to help feed the hungry with good quality food.

And I wanted to talk about that guy this morning before I talked about the gospel (or the other readings) because there is something rather churchy about them.  They are all rather in-house.  Even in the gospel reading, where Jesus is talking about the Lord's harvest, and sends the disciples out into the world with a mandate to minister in the world, it is still a fairly narrow view of ministry.  First of all, they are not to minister to the Gentiles, who, of course, constitute the vast majority of the world's population.  They are to minister only to their own kind, their fellow Jews.

Think about that for a moment.  Imagine what we would think if we heard about a fellow Anglican Church who set up a food bank but insisted only Anglicans could receive assistance from it.  Or only those who lived in the parish.  We would find that very strange, to put it mildly.  And yet here is Jesus carefully instructing his disciples to minister only to Jews.

Clearly, the primary purpose of this ministry at this stage of Jesus' campaign is not what we would call social care or social outreach – it is about calling the Jews back to the fold of faith.  First, restore Israel, and then gather in the Gentiles.  That seems to be the pattern here.  So Jesus says to them: Do not go among the Gentiles or enter any town of the Samaritans.  Go rather to the lost sheep of Israel.  As you go preach this message: 'The kingdom of heaven is near.'  The aim is to restore the people of God – the people of the first covenant – before entering into the new covenant through his death and resurrection.

In effect, Jesus is repeating what God said to Moses on Mount Sinai.  The people of Israel have a special calling, they are a chosen people, whether they like it or not.  There is a covenant of faithfulness between God and his people, and there has been since the time of Abraham.  God had already demonstrated his faithfulness to his people by rescuing them out of Egypt, not because they deserved to be rescued, but because they were his people.  Now he expects some reciprocity, in the form of obedience to his will.

Out of all the nations of the world, if they are faithful to the covenant they will be God's treasured possession.  They will be set aside as a holy nation, a nation of priests, with a ministry to all the other nations of the world.  A working model, as it were, of a nation, a people, dedicated to God.

St Paul, in teaching about the new covenant, sees a similar pattern.  God has rescued us from the slavery of sin through his Son (in that sense, the new Moses).  Why did God do that?  Not because we deserved to be rescued, but because it was God's will to rescue us, so that we might become a new people, consecrated to God, this time based not on nationality or ethnic identity, but on faith in Christ alone.  Just as the Israelites were assured of God's love for them (they are his treasured possession), so we can be assured by the gift to us of the Holy Spirit through whom God's love has been poured into our hearts.

At Pentecost God's mission – Christ's mission – moved beyond the borders of Israel; it ceased to be primarily a mission to the lost sheep of Israel and became a mission to the whole world.  One consequence of that is that we need to broaden our understanding of ministry; we must not confine it to the walls of the church, but take it into every aspect of the world, including our places of business and employment – or, to pinch a term from the Cursillo movement, into every environment we find ourselves in.

Our friend the soil scientist is but one example.  There are many others.  I can think of two men in our parish in Wellington who had marvellous ministries.  Neither of them were ordained or licensed as lay ministers.  One was a plumber, the other a funeral director.  Both exemplified Christian ministry in the manner in which they conducted their businesses, and related to their clients.  No doubt there are many thousands of others, many of whom, like the soil scientist have never thought about their work in this way.

And, of course, all that I've said about a place of employment can be translated to apply to our homes, our clubs, the places where we gather with others.  The whole world and every aspect of it is the Lord's harvest field: he calls us all to be labourers in it.



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