Notes for Reflection

June 28                       NOTES FOR REFLECTION

Texts: Lamentations 3:22-33; 2 Corinthians 8:7-15; Mark 5:21-43

Theme:  The gospel brought to mind an old saying, "Where's there's life, there's hope"; from which we might get a good idea for our theme this week.  I suggest "Where there's Christ there's Hope".  Or "Where there's God there's Hope" might be preferred to more easily encompass the first lesson as well.  St Paul is more difficult this week: it depends how frank we want to be.  Something along the spectrum from "Righteous Arm-Twisting" through to "Psychological Warfare" might be justified!  However, to avoid scandal, something more neutral like "Mutual Self-Help" might do.

Introduction.  This week we begin with a reading from the rather neglected Book of Lamentations.  The message is clear: even in the worst possible circumstances it is our conviction that God is present with us and is working his purposes out that gives us hope.  Perhaps the purpose of our second lesson is to remind us that this does not mean that we can all sit around doing nothing and leaving it all to God.  Where there is need our calling is to do what we can to meet that need.  Our wonderful gospel passage this week draws these two themes together.  In hopeless situations two very different people retain sufficient hope to come to Jesus and seek his help.

Background.  I have commented before on how often we hear people saying "I am just so thankful that..." when some personal drama has had an unexpectedly happy outcome.  Sometimes that feeling of thankfulness can be personalised – somebody has done something to bring about that outcome.  But often it is simply a response that means something like, "I am just so pleased that things have turned out the way they have."  People of faith may "direct" their thankfulness to God, of course, but those without faith are borrowing the language of thanksgiving without noticing the absence of a particular recipient, human or divine.  And sometimes we may experience a great sense of thankfulness that does not relate to any specific event or outcome.  Suddenly we feel, albeit briefly, that all is right with the world – it's a joy to be alive!

This week has not been like this.  For me the mood has been set very much by the appalling case of the two boys accused of the killing of the Auckland dairy owner, Aaron Kumar; and aggravated by the Coroner's findings in respect of the Livingstone tragedies in St Leonard's, and the death of the remand prisoner from drugs concealed in his body.  All three reminded us that there is something far deeper involved than mere evil actions by individuals.  While we can understand the reaction of Mr Kumar's family to the verdicts – for them it was about the death of their much-loved father – the story that emerged during the trial about the life histories of the boys in the dock widened the questions we must all consider.  If we really want to know who killed Mr Kumar we would have a long chain of responsibility to follow, wouldn't we?

We might start with a mother who drank too much alcohol and took drugs during pregnancy.  Was she responsible for the harm that caused to the baby in her womb at the time?  Why was she drinking and taking drugs at the time?  Was it her way of coping with violence directed at her? If so, should we not attribute part of the responsibility for Mr Kumar's death to the perpetrator of that violence?  Where did she get the alcohol and drugs from?  Perhaps the suppliers of those things bear some responsibility for Mr Kumar's death.  One of the boys had suffered a serious brain injury in a car accident when he was ten.  Who caused that accident?  Did he receive the best possible treatment for the injury?  And then there was all the evidence of ongoing neglect and ill-treatment suffered by both boys over much of their lives.  Who knew, and did not intervene on their behalf?  Where were the social agencies while all this was going on?

If the Crown agencies failed these boys does the buck stop there?  Or should we continue along the line of responsibility to the Government?  Were those agencies sufficiently funded to do their work?  And if not, how much of that is due to an electorate that favours tax-cuts over adequate funding of social services?  Exactly where does the chain of responsibility end if not with all of us as the society in which these things are happening?

Similar questions arise from those coronial reports that were released this week.  Perhaps we don't naturally feel too much sympathy when we hear of a gang-member attempting to smuggle drugs into a prison by concealing them inside his body.  Surely he is the author of his own misfortune?  But his mother said he was forced into doing this by gang members; he hadn't been a willing party.  And whatever the truth of that, what are we to make of the Coroner's findings that those charged with looking after him while in prison failed to do so?

The story surrounding the Livingstone case is yet another example of this sort of thing.  "We failed to join the dots – we missed the signs – we were misled – we have learned important lessons from this case – we must ensure that we share information with other agencies..."  And the temptation is to buy into these arguments, isn't it?  To make our own judgment in each particular case.  To find someone to blame.  I know, I do that time after time.

But this week I found myself led to a different approach.  I started to read again the Book of Lamentations – not just the familiar bits like this week's passage, or the bit we use on Good Friday.  I started at the beginning.  Try it.  Especially chapter 2.  Set aside the theological objections we might have in attributing the disasters to God.  See it as a description of life in a city under a long siege.  Take verse 20 as a summary.  As I began to reflect on all this it seemed to me to be pointing to the need to recognise before God the sheer ghastly mess of the world around us as a first stage, without breaking bits off and trying to apportion blame.

The boys in Mr Kumar's dairy are samples of the thousands of neglected and abused children in this country.  Mr Livingstone was but one man whose violence towards women and children blight lives and sometimes end them.   Jai Davis, the man who died in prison at the age of 30, is just one man who thought life in a gang might provide a better life for him than the one he had in his family, and paid dearly for his choice.  All three stories are about people who are both perpetrator and victim.

I feel the need to stand back from these individual tragedies – to restrain my natural inclination to pass judgment and point fingers – and simply recognise this general overwhelming feeling of distress that these and so many other instances have given rise to.    To lay them before the Lord – to express to him my distress – and then to fall silent – to wait – to listen.  I'm not sure if the right word for this is "lamenting", but it'll do for now.  For my faith tells me that this is where hope is found. This is where redemption begins.  The Exodus story starts when the Lord hears the cry of his people.  That story reminds us that, however bad things are, there is always a way out for those who put their hope in the Lord.

Lamentations 3:22-33.  Today's passage comes with a powerful jolt to anyone who has been reading the preceding verses.    The change of mood starts with verse 21 (it may be a good idea to start the reading with that verse), when the author suddenly calls to mind something that becomes the basis for hope.  In brief, it is his understanding of the essential goodness of God.  (Quite how that fits with his belief that all Jerusalem's  woes, so graphically described in the preceding text, are caused by God is not easy to see!)  Verse 33 ends on a high note, but read on and the difficulty re-emerges.  Perhaps we can resolve it best by recognising that all of us share in the responsibility for our society as a whole.  The Old Testament way of expressing that was to describe the outcome in terms of God punishing the people for their (collective) sins.  We might say, the society we have constructed for ourselves is the consequence of our own wrongful choices.

Taking It Personally.

• What was your immediate reaction when you heard the verdicts in the case of the two boys accused of killing Mr Kumar?
• How did you feel about the death of Jai Davis in prison?
• Do you feel any sympathy for Mr Livingstone?
• Do you feel any shared responsibility in respect of any of these cases?
• Make your own list of events and news items that have upset you recently.  Try not to apportion blame or pass judgment on anyone involved in them.  Simply put them before God in prayer.  Express to God the distress you feel about them.  Then spend some time in silence.  How do you feel now?
• Is there anything that you could do to help in any of these instances or in similar situations?

 

2 Corinthians 8:7-15.  Perhaps we should cut St Paul some slack.  He is, at least, reasonably open about his approach in verse 8.  His whole argument seems to have three strings to the bow.  First, saying the right and loving thing (expressing sorrow for the hardship being experienced by the believers in Jerusalem) is all very well, but the real test of their sincerity

Is best shown by putting their money where their mouth is.  Secondly, their spiritual gifts are all very well, but a generosity of spirit is just as much a spiritual gift as speaking in tongues, etc.  Thirdly, they themselves had started to offer support previously, so now is the time to follow up and complete a generous offering.  St Paul also shows a nice balance between the theological and the practical reasons for urging them to give generously.  Christ himself has given his all for them, so now they should give to others.  But he stresses that he is not asking them to give more than they can afford – he does not ask them to embrace poverty so that the believers in Jerusalem can be relieved of their poverty.  He urges them to share the burden equally, in the expectation that, in their hard times, they might expect to receive help from others.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Draft an appeal letter from St Paul based on this passage, and address it to yourself.  How would you respond?

·        How would you feel about St Paul's approach in this letter?

·        How do you respond to unsolicited appeal letters from charities?  Why?

 

Mark 5:21-43.  This is a beautifully constructed story.  The tone is set once more with that expression, so common in Mark's gospel, about "crossing over to the other side" (of the lake), and keep it in mind as you read through this passage.  Notice the two very different characters who come to Jesus for help, one from each side of the social and religious divide.  One is a very important person in the local area, a leader in the synagogue, called Jairus .  Ordinarily he would have been very cautious about being seen in public with Jesus; but facing the near death of his daughter he comes to Jesus begging for help.  On the way to meet this need, Jesus is intercepted by a nameless woman who is equally desperate.  Because of her condition, she is "unclean", and therefore excluded from the synagogue.  Moreover, she has far more at risk than her reputation: if the crowd had known of her condition she could have been set upon and even killed.  Both of them are driven by desperation, but also by faith in Jesus.  Their hope is in him.  Of particular interest to me is the fact that Jesus "called the woman out".  Why would he do that?  Why embarrass her, shame her, even: why not let her be healed privately?  (See verse 43.)  Because he wanted her (and the crowd) to know physical healing was only a very small part of what her faith in him had done for her, I think.

 

Taking It Personally. 

 

·        This is a perfect passage for praying with your imagination.  Place yourself in the story with the disciples.  Be aware of your own feelings as each new part of the story unfolds.

·        What is your reaction to Jairus?  Are you surprised that such a man would come to Jesus?  Do you resent his approach (the cheek of the man!), or do you think it's a feather in Jesus' cap?

·        Are you surprised at Jesus' willingness to go to Jairus' house?  Disappointed?  Concerned that Jesus is showing favouritism to Jairus because of his position?

·        Notice the large crowd tagging along with him.  How do you feel about that?  Are they just rubber-neckers, or are they genuinely interested in the outcome of the case?  Would you rather they went away or are you pleased at the numbers Jesus is able to draw?

·        Can you see the woman moving up behind Jesus, reaching out her hand, trying to touch him?

·        When Jesus asks who has touched him, what is your reaction?  Do you respond with the disciples?

·        How do you feel as the woman "outs herself"?  How would you describe her?  Do your feelings change as you hear her story?  How do you feel about Jesus' words to her?

·        Now the messengers arrive with the sad news that Jairus' daughter has died.  How do you feel on hearing this news?

·        How do you feel about Jesus' words to Jairus?  Do you believe that there is still hope?

·        Journey on with Jesus to Jairus' house.  Notice the sound of the mourners wailing and weeping.  How do you feel now?

·        Hear Jesus tell them the little girl is not dead, but sleeping.  Hear their scoffing response.  How do you feel now?  Are you embarrassed at Jesus, or outraged at their mockery of him?

·        Go with him into the girl's bedroom.  Look at her on the bed.  How do you feel?  Are you excited, worried, anxious?  Look at Jesus.  How does he seem?

·        Hear him speak to the girl.  Then watch as she responds.  How do you feel now?  Are you overcome with amazement?

·        Do you have any intention of obeying his command to tell no one about what you have seen?