Lenten Studies 2016. Caring for our Common Home

St Barnabas Anglican Church, Warrington

LENTEN STUDIES 2016

CARING FOR OUR COMMON HOME

This course is a reflection on our Christian calling to care for God’s creation as both grateful recipients and responsible stewards.  It is based on Pope Francis’ Encyclical Letter on Ecology and Climate entitled Laudato Si’, released in June 2015.

“Laudato Si’” is the opening phrase (in Latin) of St Francis’ canticle “Hymn to the Sun”.  Copies of the English version of the encyclical are available from the Catholic Centre in the Octagon, for $17.50.  Participants in the course may find it helpful to have their own copy, but it is not essential as written notes will be provided.  In particular, background notes will be made available before the course starts, covering the introduction and chapter 1 of the encyclical.

COURSE OUTLINE

Session 1.        16 February.

Looks at some of the key biblical texts on creation and our special responsibility for its care.  Based on chapter 2 of the encyclical.

Session 2.        23 February.

Identifies the spiritual nature of the root causes of our ecological problems.  Based on chapter 3 of the encyclical.

Session 3.        1 March.

Advocates a new emphasis on understanding humanity as part of creation, rather than apart from it.  Based on chapter 4 of the encyclical.

Session 4.        8 March.

Addresses some practical questions of what can be done to achieve a sustainable environment.  Based on chapter 5 of the encyclical.

Session 5.        15 March.

Brings it all together by outlining a spirituality to nourish us in the struggle to preserve the environment for future generations.  Based on chapter 6 of the encyclical.

All sessions from 7.30-9.00pm in the Parish Lounge. All welcome.  No charge.

More information from Roger Barker.  465.7719. roger-patricia.barker@xtra.co.nz

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 :)

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 8^th, 15^th, and 22^nd. (Somewhat bizarrely, it tells us in respect of the 15^th and 22^nd 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?

 

 

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, 5^th 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 5^th November", but the war was on and I was considerably delayed!)  It is also the 11^th 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 4^th 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?