Breathing Life into Death

Passiontide begins today, this is reflected in the lectionary readings which begin with death and end with life. 
 

Two stories of new life being breathed into one who is dead. In the account in Ezekiel (37:1-14), long time dead, nothing remaining but the old, dried bones. In the story in John (11:1-45), recently dead, not yet dry bones but a “stench” (39) of decomposing. In both stories the result was regeneration, life prevailed.

 

I have blogged before about the detail of these texts and the resurrection of Lazarus so today I am going to speak tangentially, just ponder on the idea of death and life. 

 

But before I do that, I want to highlight a couple of phrases from John which I think are worthy of note.

 

 “I believe that you are the Messiah, the child of God, the one coming into the world” (27).  In the gospel of John, Martha makes this declaration. In the synoptics it is accredited to Peter. I suspect if I asked the question, “Who said, ‘you are the Messiah’?” the default answer would be Peter. So, I want to highlight Martha, this wonderful woman who is accredited with making this declaration about the Christ — one of the first to do so.

 

Second, I want to highlight the importance of friendship in this text. Jesus’ friendship with Lazarus was obviously one of deep love and affection. So much so that when Lazarus needed Jesus, Jesus responded and went to him even if it meant potential harm to himself. The disciples reminded Jesus that they had tried to stone him in that location. They were amazed he would try to go there again (8). Yet, for the sake of friendship the disciples were willing to go and die with him (16). Certainly, the stoic influence is clear, friendship entails a duty to help even in the face of possible persecution. I think this story illustrates the value of true friendship which is often overlooked.

 

So where do my ponderings of death and life take me. They entangle with the idea of “being as Christ to those we meet” — how can I as an individual or we as a community breathe life into areas where we see death. (Metaphorically speaking)

 

In the last couple of weeks, I have been brought face-to-face with a couple of areas where I saw “death”. The experience was unsettling and deeply disturbing. 

 

The first was on our journey home from our wonderful trip seeing our son and daughter-in-law. We drove home leisurely via a coastal route through Maryland and Delaware, breaking the journey with a couple of days at the Rehoboth beaches — lovely. Sounds idyllic, yet as we drove, we became aware that we were surrounded by death. Miles and miles of factory farms, usually attempts to keep them hidden with trees but nevertheless visible from the road. I’m sure there are many more we didn’t see. We also passed the processing plants where the young birds are cruelly killed with the names Tyson and Purdue emblazoned on their gates. And the smell — we could echo Martha’s words “There is a stench because he has been dead” (38). There was the stench of death in the air as we drove.  We looked up the data — it is shameful, we are talking millions and millions of animals, sentient beings created by God being subject to cruel lives and cruel deaths. Data from 2019 concluded that 98.8% of all chickens are in factory farms. Our drive brought us face-to-face with the reality of this — at one point +Andy remarked, “It looks like Auschwitz.”

 

The second area that brought me face-to-face with death (metaphorically) was looking at “conversion camps”. I was teaching about them this week but as I delved into the data, practices and harm caused including an increased incidence of suicide I was a little horrified. The situation was worse than I had realized, I was again left feeling a shaken and unsettled. 

 

Conversion therapy is where people (mostly aged 13-17) are subject to practices to change their sexuality after they have identified as gay. Cruel practices which include pharmacology, aversion therapy, electric shock, beatings and exorcism. The U.N. have condemned conversion therapy as a violation of human rights — violates prohibition of torture, violates principles of equality and non-discrimination an violates health care particularly freedom from non-consensual medical treatment (UN-IESOGI). 

 

So, two very different experiences, two areas of “death” that need life breathing into them. If I am to be as Christ, I need to muse on what I can do to breathe life into them. It all feels a little overwhelming, perhaps I just need to begin where Jesus started and “Roll the stone away” (39). A first step — not keeping silent, letting the light in so it can start to shine on these evil, deadly practices.

 

 

A Leap into Lent

On Wednesday I felt like I had suddenly leapt into Lent — was it really Ash Wednesday? It felt too soon, Christmas and Epiphany have only just finished. I had not long since taken in the festive lights from outside.

 

I’m not sure whether it is one of the side effects of getting older, but time certainly seems to have speeded up. The seasons ebb and flow with amazing speed. Yet, I have always enjoyed the everchanging cycle of life — winter, spring, summer and autumn, or liturgically speaking, Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost and ordinary time. 

 

In the previous paragraph I used the word everchanging, and so it is, each day is different. Yet considered as a whole, the cycle of life brings a stability, a rhythm, a certainty and that is something to be cherished.

 

As in previous years the first Sunday in Lent opens with the story of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness. (Matthew 4. 1-11) The story is in all three synoptic gospels with two versions carrying an account of temptations encountered. (The gospel of John has no mention of this story)

 

Jesus went into the desert after being lauded and baptized by John. I think an important principle is being established, one well worth heeding today. Whenever a new venture, ministry or vocation is being embarked on take some quite time to prepare. Jesus chose to go into the wilderness to spend time preparing and fasting. Jesus probably went to one of the ascetic Essene communities in the wilderness.

 

It reminds me a little of one of our mediations from the Desert Fathers and Mothers: “In Scetis, a brother went to see Abba Moses and begged him for a word. And the old man said: Go sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.” (Way of Living, 390)

 

I can imagine a cold, spartan cell where a tired, hungry Jesus spent a few weeks in spiritual preparation which result in some visions. And in the visions came the temptations. Temptation always comes when one is weak and vulnerable. 

 

I found it interesting that centuries don’t seem to have changed the way people are most easily tempted. Temptations still come in the same areas today.

 

In the wilderness the first temptation is about bread, a focus on satisfying bodily needs and wants. The next one is about safety and living as long as possible free from hurt. The final temptation is about gaining power and authority over others. (Interestingly, the Gospel of Luke changes the order of the temptations) 

 

This model of taking forty days to prepare for oneself spiritually, expecting temptations along the way makes a good focus and direction for any Lenten journey. Time and space to live a little more simply, to deepen and become more in tune with one’s spirituality and calling. Yet coming face to face with things in oneself which cause temptation. 

 

But it is not all hardship and gloomy — walking a Lenten journey, finding time for preparation can bring a deep peace and a deep joy. 

 

 "Don't worry about a thing, 'cause every little thing is gonna be alright,” urged Bob Marley in 1977. This was the year our first child was born — can it really be that long ago?  The song is still popular today having been re-released by several subsequent artists. 

 

Eleven years later Bobby McFerrin penned the now famous “Don’t worry, be happy,”. Another well-known favourite, as a bit of trivia, it was the first acapella song to reach number one in the pop charts. The song also won awards at the Grammys. The lyrics urge the listener to be happy whatever circumstances befall them.

 

These two famous songs have been echoing in my head ever since I read the gospel lectionary for this week (Matthew 6. 25-end). They express the same sentiments as the gospel writer — don’t worry about what you are going to wear, what you will eat or what you will drink.

 

 Yet, these are not small things, all three are essential to life itself. No-one can survive without food or drink, and in most climates, some kind of clothing to protect the body is essential. So, it is not just a quaint sentiment but a really deep thought. 

 

The rational of the gospel author is that one does not worry about these life sustaining items because God will provide them. It sounds great on first reading but if I am really honest — and when I write these blogs, I strive to be real and honest even if the topic is difficult — it simply doesn’t happen. God does not usually supernaturally provide food. There is only the story of manna in the wilderness and a couple of other tales where that happens. Nothing in contemporary society. Nor is clothing dropped from the heavens! So, I need to think about this gospel passage a little more.

 

This week I have been reading about, thinking about and talking about Aristotle’s golden mean and I am using that to try and gain some insight into this text. For those unfamiliar with the golden mean, Aristotle looked at virtues and saw how they fell between two extremes of deficiency and excess — pretty much the same understanding as the mean in mathematics. For example, if courage was the virtue, then the deficiency and excess could be cowardice and recklessness.

 

So, in the text’s context worry would be considered the excess so therefore I have been pondering what would be the virtue. I considered many alternatives to see how they would fit and, in the end, landed on ‘care’. If care was the virtue and worry was the excess what would be the deficiency, the other extreme? I spent much time pondering this, several conversations about it with +Andy, and ultimately came down to neglect.

 

Therefore, care is the virtue, with worry and neglect are the excess and deficiency on either side. As a practical example if a parent was allowing a child play near a river, paddling and skimming rocks. That parent could sit back on a blanket worrying about all the things that could happen, the child could get swept away in the current, the child could fall over and drown in six inches of water, etc. Or the parent could read a book or take a nap and completely neglect the child. Neither is helpful, what the child needs is care, to be able have a fun filled, safe and meaningful experience.

 

Now, I want to think about this in the context of the gospel. The explicitly stated excess is worry. The gospel writer implores the reader not to worry, stating that worrying will not add even an hour to their lives. But if the deficiency is neglect, somewhere in the middle is care. This fits well with one of the great Godly commands in scripture — love your neighbour as yourself. So, people care for themselves, but more essentially care for each other. If the virtue is care and everyone is caring for each other then all will be clothed and fed. Of course, that would be in a perfect world — but it is still a great aim. Don’t worry about what you will eat, drink or wear, but exercise the virtue of care for others. And back to Aristotle who urges his readers to makes the virtues habitual, so in this context build up the habit of care so it becomes a norm in one’s life rather than the excess of worry or deficit of neglect.

 

Last night I watched a harrowing news report on that terrible earthquake in Turkey and Syria — the death toll currently surpasses 33,000 and is expected to keep rising. Our prayers continue to go out to the families who have lost loved ones. As I watched the news clip, I saw ordinary people desperately clawing through the rubble in the bid to find survivors. What really stood out to me was that none of them was wearing gloves — how painful it must have been, yet all they were concerned about was finding any survivors. 

 

I’m sure they had some worry (they wouldn’t be human if they didn’t) or even they could have just been glad they survived and walked away neglecting others, but what I saw was care. Care for their community, care for their loved ones, care for friends and care for strangers as they dug through the rubble. Others interviewed, who had homes still standing, had opened their doors even to strangers to provide shelter and care. One person who spoke to the presenter had taken in 30 other families stretching very limited resources. People putting aside the excess of worry and deficit of neglect as they sought to care for others. For me this really illustrated the heart of the gospel.

Today’s gospel lectionary reading is a very familiar tale. It’s the story of a wedding (John 2:1-11). I love weddings whether officiating or as a guest. They are always such happy occasions. Wonderful times of joy and celebration, full of hope and expectation as another stage of life is embarked on. 

 

This marriage was taking place in Cana of Galilee. I have blogged about this wedding on other occasions. I make no apologies for doing so again as I feel this is a key text in the gospels. It is the beginning of Jesus’ journey. It sets the scene. I also think it is particularly important for any starting a journey into the study of feminist theology and the role of women in the scriptures as Mary is a key player in the passage.

 

The text doesn’t reveal who the wedding was between. However, there are hints that the person getting married was a close relative of Jesus — maybe it was a brother or cousin. I have omitted to include sister as the mother of Jesus was the host so it would be a male relative.

 

I researched Jewish wedding traditions in New Testament times to see which family would be responsible for providing the feast. It would be the groom’s family. As in most cultures at that time, marriage was merely about ownership and the bride was transferred from being the property of father to the property of husband.  In Jewish tradition the betrothment was the bigger event — a decision made together by the fathers of both parties. Money, property and gifts changed hands as, in essence, the groom’s father paid for the bride. This is different from many other traditions where the bride brought a dowry. 

 

If the couple were already of marriageable age the groom-to-be would then prepare a bridal chamber within their father’s house—this would take about a year or even longer. Even the decision about timing was left in the groom’s father’s hands. The bride would not know the time when the groom returned to get her, hence the tradition of trumpet blowing and shouting to give the potential bride a little notice.

 

Before the actual ceremony the bride would take part in ritual cleansings. The ceremony would be followed by a feast hosted by the groom’s family. If there was insufficient food or drink provided it would be a shameful thing and damage the family’s reputation.

 

So back to the text, it is not stated who was getting married. However, the text does suggest that Mary was the host. She was the person to whom the servants turned when there was a problem with the wine.

 

Just as an aside, I want to note that the mother of Jesus remains unnamed in John’s gospel. Sadly, this is common of many of the women. They are designated only by their role in relationship to men rather than as a person with a name.

 

As a second aside, I want to draw attention to the scale of this wedding of which the mother of Jesus was the host. It was clearly an affluent affair with wine flowing freely and servants and stewards attending the guests. Often, Jesus is depicted as hailing from a poor background. Yet, his father, Joseph, was a craftsperson, a carpenter. Nothing about this passage suggests the poverty background often imagined.

 

Returning, yet again, to the text. In the story the wine at the wedding ran out. The servants approached the mother of Jesus, who in turn appealed to Jesus. This is one of the clear indications that Joseph had already died. As the eldest son, Jesus would be the head of the household and thus the one to take responsibility for the feast.

 

I think everyone knows the story, water was converted into wine and guests commented that the best wine was saved until the last. As always when reading this text, what fascinates me is the conversation between Jesus and his mother. It is a significant part of the account and as such would seem to be important.

 

Jesus is recorded as saying it was no concern of his as “My hour has not yet come.” 

It is a strange retort, especially given the cultural relevance of the wine running out. But something deeper was going on, the text implies that Jesus knew that his mother was expecting a miraculous intervention. Yet Jesus was reluctant to reveal his true nature at that point even though he had started to gather disciples around him.

 

Quietly and calmly, Jesus’ mother ignored his protestation that it was not his hour and revealed that now was the time. She told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”  The water was changed to wine. The ministry was launched!

 

It is important that the key role of Jesus’ mother is not under-estimated. This woman was given the task of knowing when it was time for Jesus to start his ministry. And, importantly, Jesus submitted to that revelation. So here, right at the beginning of the gospel according to John is established a key role for a woman. I entitled this blog, Mary’s Day. Although the author of John chose not to name her, Mary’s involvement cannot be forgotten or overlooked. Mary who fulfilled the role of birthing the Christ child now unlocks the door for that ministry to burst forth.

 

 

 

 

Restlessness

I’m sure everyone has felt restless from time to time. I often feel restless. It is a weird feeling. I feel that I can’t quite settle, that I am ready for something to happen although usually not sure what that “something” is. 

 

I think restlessness can be a very good thing. It can be a catalyst to propel one to explore new horizons, an antidote to complacency, a doorway to deeper experience. 

 

As I read the gospel in the lectionary today, I wondered if Andrew and Simon were restless — ready to move to new adventures. The text is the Johannine account (John 1:29-42) of how these two brothers met Jesus. Unlike the other gospels in the Johannine gospel there is no mention of their occupation. The reader is simply told that Andrew and one other (unnamed by John — so maybe a woman even a partner) were disciples of John the baptizer and were standing with him. 

 

Although, the two were disciples of John, they clearly weren’t settled, maybe experiencing that restlessness that urged them to seek something more. So, when they heard John denote Jesus as the lamb of God, they started to follow Jesus. I wonder if they gave John a backward glance!

 

The story continues that eventually Jesus turned to the pair and asked them what they were looking for. The pair gave an interesting answer, they asked where Jesus was staying — clearly, in their restlessness they were looking for something settled. Jesus invited them to his home. 

The story tells nothing of the conversation they had, simply that they remained together that day. However, whatever was said was sufficient to cause Andrew to go and seek his brother, Simon, to announce that he and the other of John’s disciples had found the anointed one. Simon, too, must have been experiencing that restlessness as he, too, immediately went to see Jesus. 

 

Yet, even having found Jesus, satisfying that restlessness as the story continues throughout the gospels and beyond, I can see in these two brothers continual bouts of restlessness, never falling into complacency but always moving towards whatever is next. 

 

I find it a good pattern for life. Not to be unsettled by restlessness but to be more concerned about complacency. To welcome restlessness as an urging, even a deep yearning, to pursue more. To always be looking for, striving towards and ready for the next new adventure.

 

And Mary Pondered or Pondering Mary

 

The story continues as today heralds the eighth day of Christmas. In the lectionary (Luke 15-21) the story is of the shepherds who, after an angel visitation, journeyed to Bethlehem to greet Mary, Joseph and the child. As they spoke about what they heard concerning the child, the text tells us that “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart”.

 

I haven’t mused much on Mary and her role in the Christmas story this year, so I want to take this opportunity to do so now. Many of the images of Mary show her gazing lovingly on the newborn Jesus surrounded by shepherds, magi and animals. Indeed, we have a couple of nativity scenes in our home. One is very old, dates back to when our children were small, sadly missing a shepherd or two, much enjoyed and even played with. The other only a few years old, carved from olive wood, handmade in Bethlehem. Both come out each year as a reminder of the story around which we shape our lives.

 

So, as I ponder on Mary and the birth, I want to think about the back story. The story of a young girl giving birth in a stable. It all sounds very romantic in the sanitised form we usually read it but I suspect the reality was one of pain, hardship, sweat, tears and not a little fear.

 

I imagine most people reading this will have some experience of what childbirth entails — either by having given birth themselves, worked in a birthing unit, been present and supporting as a family member or friend gave birth or even simply watched “Call the Midwife.” Childbirth is a miraculous, wonderful event. Also it can be lengthy, painful, accompanied by blood and water and really hard work. It is not called “labour” by accident!

 

So, as I want to think deeply about all that Mary endured — it wasn’t really a quick visit from an angel then a chapter later miraculously in a stable with a newborn baby. It involved much more than that, Mary was nine months pregnant when she journeyed to Bethlehem. A journey that it is hard to imagine, involving walking or even riding on a donkey while nine months pregnant, and not even restrooms along the way! 

 

I wonder if labour started en route or after they arrive? Then not even getting a bedroom but giving birth in a stable, not a very sterile environment. Obviously not mentioned in the scriptures but presumably a midwife and/or other women would have assisted and supported her through the birth — a process that takes on average 12-36 hours for a first baby. The women most likely cared for her after the birth too. Men would not be present at a birth or even immediately afterwards— that only started to become possible from the 1970s onwards except in unusual circumstances.

 

Another consideration when the Christmas story is mused upon is that Mary would be ritually unclean: 

 

 ‘A woman who becomes pregnant and gives birth to a son will be ceremonially unclean for seven days, just as she is unclean during her monthly period. ³ On the eighth day the boy is to be circumcised. ⁴ Then the woman must wait thirty-three days to be purified from her bleeding. She must not touch anything sacred or go to the sanctuary until the days of her purification are over. ⁵ If she gives birth to a daughter, for two weeks the woman will be unclean, as during her period. Then she must wait sixty-six days to be purified from her bleeding.

⁶ “‘When the days of her purification for a son or daughter are over, she is to bring to the priest at the entrance to the tent of meeting a year-old lamb for a burnt offering and a young pigeon or a dove for a sin offering.^[a] 7 The priest shall offer them before God to make atonement for her, and then she will be ceremonially clean from her flow of blood. (Leviticus 12)

Mary would be subject to the usual purification regulations. These lasted for forty days during which Mary would need to remain fairly isolated and untouched, even if people visited and touched her bed, clothing or person they would become unclean for a period and have to perform ritual washings. It makes one wonder about the shepherds visiting before Mary’s purification in temple, quite a commitment for them to go knowingly into the presence of an unclean woman. 

 

I have spent time pondering on this, and will continue to do so, as I think it is a neglected part of the Christmas story. It is important that the miracle of childbirth and all that entails is not diminished. It is important that what is normally considered women’s experience is not hidden behind a closed stable door.  In the New Way of Living one of the Christmas meditations is from Anne Thurston. I’ll repeat it here:

 

“Even when we come to reflect on the birth of Jesus we discover that it has been interpreted as to remove it utterly from the realms of human experience. Yet, the profundity of the phrase “the word was made flesh” lies in the last word “flesh” — become like us.”

 

Much to ponder this week as the depths of the experience of giving birth is revisited as it is once again brought to the forefront of our minds as we continue to welcome the Christ child.

 

Oh, and as it is New Year’s Day, I wish everyone a happy and fulfilling 2023

 

The Blessing of the New Year 

 

God, bless to me the new day

Never vouchsafed to me before

It is to bless your own presence

You have given me this time, O God

Bless you to me my eye,

May my eye bless all it sees;

I will bless my neighbour

May my neighbour bless me,

God give me a clean heart

Let me not from sight of your eye;

Bless to me my family

And bless to me my means and my animals.

 

(Garmina Gadelica, 79 amended)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding Peace, Making Peace, Celebrating Peace

Peace — this word fills our hearts and minds on the second Sunday of Advent. At today’s Eucharist the peace candle is lit allowing the light to shine out.

 Although the focus of the day is on peace, all of the lectionary readings had some quite violent verses within them. Perhaps, the most violent was the part of John the baptiser’s story which comprised the gospel reading (Matthew 3.1-12). 

 

Almost as an aside before I look at peace, I want to change the image of John. The common depiction of John is a person looking rough and wild, shouting out a message to those around. This image always puts me in mind of street preachers — the sort who stand on street corners wearing billboards around their necks shouting at passersby to repent. I don’t think John was like that at all.

 

Consider the picture the gospels really paint. John was probably an educated person — I have spoken in previous blogs about references to the desert most likely being shorthand for the training and education received at an Essene community.

 

John’s clothes are camel hair and leather. Although I personally would not wear leather due to personal principles about the cruelty involved, this does indicate some means for John. Camel’s hair clothing was (and still is) made from the fine under hair. The animal is not plucked or skinned but shed hair is gathered making it the least cruel way of obtaining wool. The resulting garments are not scratchy as often imagined but fine and soft. 

 

And that diet — John was likely not eating bugs! Locusts refers to a sort of cake cooked in oil. The word used for it is very similar to that of manna. Thus, John’s diet would have evoked all sorts of memory and meaning to contemporary readers. 

 

I think it is important to keep this image in mind as the message of John is looked at — not a wild, uncouth person eating bugs and shouting about repentance. But a person from a good, well-thought of family, well-versed in Scripture, with their own miraculous birth story, wearing fine clothes and with a diet that evokes memories of God’s care and concern for the people. Thus, a person to be listened too, a person with credibility who brought a strong message of the need for change — in line with today’s focus — hopefully a message of peace.

 

Yet, for a Sunday dedicated to thinking about peace, this reading talks a lot about violence. There was some unpleasant name calling, talk of being “cut down” with an axe and “burnt with unquenchable fire”. Not pleasant metaphors! 

 

So, as I muse on this reading, I want to follow Trible’s advice and shake the text until it yields a blessing. In this case a blessing of peace. My advent thought for today is I want to find peace, make peace and celebrate peace. I hope each of these will be present as I shake the text. I must confess it is not easy to do. 

 

Finding peace — I found this one a little harder to shake than the following two. However, I looked at the life of John the baptiser and deduced how John found peace in knowing who they were and what their role was. It must have been quite hard to live knowing one’s slightly younger cousin was such a special person with a lifechanging message and mission. Not always easy to know you come second. John found peace with this and was able to declare, “one who is more powerful than I . . .”

 

Making peace — I think the clue to this is in the harsh words to the Pharisees and the Sadducees, asking them to “bear fruit worthy of repentance”. Surely, as I shake this, I see in fruits of repentance making peace, which means going to those who have been harmed by their actions and righting wrongs. Making peace is all about changing one’s lifestyle to not causing harm to any person, animal or environment. 

 

Celebrating peace — I see this in the action of John baptizing those who made peace. A time of rejoicing, public declaration and celebration that all is well, that peace has been found and peace has been made with all. 

 

So, on this day, dedicated to musing on peace, my hope is that each who reads this will find peace, make peace and celebrate peace as the journey through Advent continues.

 

Crucifixion

Next Sunday we enter Advent — a new season preparing for the birth of the Christ child. Today, is designated as a day to remember the sovereignty of Christ. The text is the story of the crucifixion of Jesus. It always seems to be a strange time of year to think about death — a little incongruous. Perhaps, however, it serves as a reminder of the cycle of life — mourn a death then start to think of a birth. Life goes on. The cycle continues.

 

This last couple of days the lectionary has urged (or even forced) me to think of crucifixion and all that entails. It does not make for pleasant musing. Crucifixion was one of the most brutal and painful ways of killing someone. It is the root for our word for extreme pain — excruciating. Crucifixion was thought to have originated with the Babylonians and Assyrians, was used commonly with the Persians from about 6 BCE, brought to Eastern Mediterranean countries by Alexander the Great and introduced to Rome in 3 BCE by the Phoenicians where it was used for 500 years before being banned by Constantine 1.

 

During crucifixion one was tied or nailed to a stake, tree or cross. Death could be slow and painful taking from between six hours to four days. Death resulted from a combination of pain, haemorrhage and dehydration which caused the body to go into shock and progressive asphyxiation due to the positioning of the arms. Crucifixion was mainly used for slaves, Christians, disgraced soldiers and foreigners. A Roman soldier was placed at the foot of each cross and had to remain there until the person died hence the death-hastening practices of fracturing legs, stab wounds to heart area, blows to the chest and a smoking fire at the foot of the cross (to further impede breathing). It is all rather horrible, and I have only given a sanitized version. If anyone wants more detail, please use google!

 

So why have I gone into this in a little more detail than usual — I’m not trying to depress anyone. But, if this is the lectionary topic to think about today and during this week, it is important to know what crucifixion entailed.

 

Today’s reading (Luke 23.33-43) has a number of points worth considering. The text documents Jesus being crucified between two thieves, mocked and scoffed at by the onlookers and having conversation both with God and the thieves. Would conversation be possible on the cross? My research would lead me to say speech was perhaps possible but very hard and nothing like fluent. 

 

So, at this point, I’m going to harp back to our discussion at Theology school where we looked at how comparatively recently the idea of reading the Bible as “literal” started to happen. There would be no concept of that in the pre-modern world. It is hard to get our heads round as we were schooled in such a different culture. 

 

I would say it was unlikely that an intricate conversation as documented could have happened to people who were dying primarily from asphyxiation. Yet, I would also say — of course, it is real, it has changed people and society for centuries. It contains ideas around which our lives have been built.

 

The conversation itself is very interesting. The first phrase “Father-Mother forgive them for they do not know what they are doing” has been, perhaps, one of the most discussed phrases. In my Bible version it is bracketed indicating it is not contained in the earliest manuscripts. Theories abound both for it being original and initially omitted or it being a later addition — for example, it was part of the oral tradition and later added by scribe, it interrupts the flow of the narrative so could not belong there, it was added to bring the number of sayings to the special number of seven, it was omitted for antisemitic reasons or it was added to fit the ignorance-forgiveness motif of Lukan writings. I’m merely noting these, I’m not going to discuss them in detail.

 

The second recorded dialogue is between Jesus and the two thieves. As I read this conversation I noted the promise of future paradise for one of the thieves, I can’t help but think of what a comfort this inclusion would have brought to early Christians. It would have been lifechanging to those facing persecution, to those who were holding on to their faith knowing that they may be next on the cross. A powerful reminder that death was not the end for them, it was merely a doorway to paradise.

 

Finally, I want to mention the ongoing influence this text has had over lives and faith for centuries. It cannot be underestimated. This passage has had a powerful impact on our relationship with God and humanity. The conversations contained therein are all about forgiveness. I could even say that in one sense, this short reading sums up the message of the gospels. Forgiveness from God for humanity and in turn forgiveness between humanity. There is something about knowing one is forgiven and forgiving those who have caused personal harmed that makes one feel a bit lighter.

 

So, today’s lectionary was something of a journey — readers are brought once again face-to-face with death, learnt about the power of forgiveness and now are ready to step into advent with lighter hearts to prepare to welcome the Christ child, the incarnation of love.

 

 

 

 

 

This morning’s gospel lectionary passage (Luke 18.9-14) is one of a pair of parables followed by a couple of storiesI think for this parable it is important to see the context rather than read the text in isolation. To ponder and ask the question, “what is the overall message being given here?” Also, to query, “why were these particular stories chosen to preserve and write down?”

 

As I read the whole chapter and mused on each parable and how they related to each other my conclusion was that these parables were inserted at this point to give heart to a people under persecution. 

 

Luke’s gospel is generally dated around 85 CE — although as always with dating scriptures there are variations from a few years earlier to even a bit later. Regardless of the actual date, it is clear the gospel was written after the persecution of Christians had begun in 64 (or 67) CE under Nero. Nero blamed Christians for the great fire of Rome (64) and used that as an excuse to start the persecution which over the next couple of centuries saw an estimated two million Christians killed.

 

I think, seeing today’s reading in the light of stories written to those undergoing persecution makes sense. By the time the gospel was penned Luke would have been older. Many of those hearing and reading the gospel would have been a new generation, many would not even have been born in Jesus’ time. Converts raised on stories that encouraged them to look for the bodily return of Jesus and they were still waiting. For the previous years these early Christians would be seeing the death of friends and acquaintances and experiencing the ensuing fear and chaos all around them. They needed encouragement to not give up but to hold firm. These parables offer that.

 

The first is the story of a persistent widow who kept coming to a judge with the plea, “Grant me justice against my adversary”. Surely, that would be the plea of a people under persecution. The widow continues to pester the judge who eventually caves and grants justice. It is worth noting that the author chose a widow as the person who keeps coming to the judge. A widow would be largely invisible, considered insignificant and possibly without

protection or means of support. Perhaps this typifies how the people felt.  It would have brought a strong message to the people under persecution —keep going and eventually justice will win.

 

The next parable is our text for today. A Pharisee and a tax collector went to the temple. In the story the Pharisee is full of confidence, listing all the right things he has done while the tax collector simply asks for mercy. And it was the tax collector who is found justified before God. Again, I see this offering comfort to a people under persecution who would identify with the tax collector — hated and shunned by all, yet the person God ultimately chose to justify.

 

Although not listed as parables the following two stories continue the theme. Firstly, a short passage about children. The gist being that the realm of God belongs to them. Again, the message that the weakest members of society gain the realm of God. 

 

Next is the longer tale of the rich leader who, after a lengthy conversation, was told the way to God was to sell their riches and care for the poor. This story ends with verse which says that “no one who has left home or spouse or brothers or sisters or parents or children will fail to receive many times more …” (29). As I read this verse, I became aware of how very differently it sounds in the context of this section on bringing comfort to those in persecution. Often it is interpreted to encourage a voluntary surrender of all these things to be a better follower of Christ — it never quite sat comfortably. I find it makes so much more sense when read as a verse to comfort people losing these things under persecution.

 

Finally, and perhaps the climax of this section, the chapter continues with Jesus talking of his death and how he would be flogged, insulted, mocked, spit on and ultimately killed. Surely, this would offer some comfort that in their persecution they are identifying with Jesus. Maybe even considered a privilege to follow in the footsteps of Jesus. 

 

When I write a blog, I like to look at what the text offers for today. However, we are not a people under persecution, we are not going to lose family, friends and property because of our faith. Yet, the text has to offer something, some blessing for all who read it in every age. Maybe, as I shake today’s text the message can be best summed up in the words of Julian of Norwich, “I will make all things well, I make all things well and you will see for yourselves that all things shall be well.” (Revelations of Divine Love)

(Photo: Sun catching the autumn trees at Hammond Lake, PA)

Healing the Outcast

Thankfulness, being grateful, acknowledging gifts or kindnesses are all good practices. In most people they are instilled from a young age — say “Thank you” is urged on a young child many times. As the old saying goes I would be rich if I had received a penny for every time I had spoken those words to my children and grandchildren. Teaching manners and gratefulness is all part of the parental task.

 

On the surface, today’s gospel reading (Luke 17: 11-19) is about thankfulness — ten lepers had been healed but only one returned to acknowledge the wonderful gift they had been given. Yet, I think this story is not really about thankfulness although that is included. I think the heart of the story is about how the outcast is treated.

 

The story is quite brief, not much detail is given. The reader is not told if these were male or female lepers, or even children. It seems they followed the regulations not to approach anyone as the text says, “Keeping their distance, they called …” (12). 

 

The tale continues they were told to go and show themselves to the priests. 

 

Now showing oneself to a priest seems quite simple but was a complex process. I think within this story is a huge time lapse. Healing leprosy was not a priestly function but inspecting the affliction and pronouncing healing was. The priest was the authority where a declaration of leprosy was needed. However, whenever healing occurred there were required rituals (Lev. 14) on first, seventh and eighth days. These take place outside the camp were the leper lives — sacrifices, offerings, bathing, laundering clothes ultimately blood of a lamb and oil are daubed on the leper’s right big toe, ear lobe and thumb. 

 

After being pronounced healed, one returned to show gratitude. Worth noting that this time the former leper came right up to Jesus and fell at his feet. The leper could once more approach people. They had been pronounced clean. They no longer had to live as an outcast. 

 

As I read the story through the phrase that really jumped out at me was “And he was a Samaritan” (16). A double outcast — a Samaritan and a leper. I thought it was interesting that in such a short story talking about events that must have taken place over a week or more that phrase was so prominent. Did it really matter that they were a Samaritan? Was nationality so important? Obviously, to the author it was a key point, a fact worth noting. An outcast in a story about outcasts. 

 

Often, outcasts blend into the background, hidden on the edge of society. It is easy to pretend they don’t exist. While thinking about this story I did quite a bit of reading on leprosy and leper colonies. As far as I can see the quarantine on the last leper colony in USA was lifted in 1969. I was a bit shocked — this is in my lifetime. Lepers existing on the edge of society, and I knew nothing about it, invisible people.

I’ll not spend time looking at all the other outcasts isolated on the edge of society but just mention one person whose name has been all over social media this week. An anniversary that should not be forgotten. Mathew Shepard — beaten, tortured, and left to die on October 6, 1998, (died October 12, 1998) twenty-four years ago this week.  A hate crime because Mathe was gay. An outcast in the small town he lived in.

 

I hope whenever this short gospel text is read it will provide a much-needed challenge that outcasts still exist on the edge of society, largely unnoticed and invisible. 

 

My prayer, Open our eyes, O God.

Shrewd or Dishonest?

What a perplexing parable! It seems to be a story that baffles all its readers. Expositors of today’s lectionary gospel passage (Luke 16: 1-13) have suggested many varying interpretations. Perhaps, a good example of why, when reading the Bible, there is no “right” or “wrong” way to understand it — that always causes division, if someone is right then someone else is wrong! Much better to accept that each interpreter is simply trying to understand what God is saying in a way that is relevant to them.

 

I have blogged about this text before and as I read it again, many of the thoughts I have seem to be similar.

 

On first reading I always find this story strange and unsettling. Something about it just feels a little off. The parable focuses on a rich landowner and their manager. As was the custom of the day, the manager (or steward) stood between the landowners and the peasant farmers and tenants. The manager negotiated the sale of oil, wheat and other goods plus collected the rents. Mangers were in a privileged position. 

 

Sadly, it was customary for the manager to add interest to each bill for personal gain. The custom of adding interest was commonplace although was spoken against in several places in the Jewish scriptures. For example, Leviticus 25: 36 where is says “Do not take interest or any profit from them, but fear your God, so that they may continue to live among you.”  The landowners tended to ignore this practice so long as they continued to get wealthy. 

 

Of course, in all these transactions the people who suffered were the exploited tenants and peasant farmers — they were voiceless and powerless. 

 

The manager could also be in a precarious position — they depend completely on staying in favour with the landowner. Although managers enjoyed the benefits of additional finances it may not have felt a secure lifestyle. 

 

I want to interject here with a comment which I have made many times before. I make no apology for repeating it as I feel it is important. When reading parables keep in mind that when interpreting, or trying to interpret, them don’t assign God as the principal character. Simply understand parables as little stories told as illustrations of a point albeit sometimes an obscure point. If one assigns roles, it often leads to complications when the leading character exhibits traits one would rather not associate with God. This parable is a wonderful example of that. If all parables are seen as veiled references to God, then right at the outset problems would occur in this one. If God is assumed to be the rich landowner, or even the manager, then God is getting wealthy by exploiting the poor tenants. Personally, if I wanted to assign roles, here I would prefer to subvert the parable and find God/Jesus in the peasant farmers and tenants who were powerless and voiceless. 

 

Anyway, back to the story — the landowner told the manager that they was going to lose their position. There are no real details given as to what prompted this, the story simply tells us that the manager was “squandering the landowner’s property” (1)  

 

The manager reflects that they are unfit for other means of subsistence — not strong enough to work the land and too proud to beg (3). So, the manager makes an alternate plan and immediately met with all the debtors and lowered their bills.  This was a way to ensure a welcome in their homes with as their circumstances changed. 

 

This is quite interesting, as the landowner is already starting to identify with and presume help from those previously exploited — the tenants and peasant farmers. Maybe showing the beginning of a change in the manager.

 

Rather than being annoyed by this action the rich landowner commended his manager for acting shrewdly thus ensuring that manager kept their position. It is a difficult story to understand, I doubt there is any one definitive understanding. 

 

I think it is important to see the difference between shrewd and dishonest.  Shrewd is defined as having or showing sharp powers of judgment, being astute or being marked by practical hardheaded intelligence. While dishonest is behaving or prone to behave in an untrustworthy or fraudulent way.

 

The manager is called both — perhaps the reference is to dishonesty of some kind that had come to light which caused their dismissal or dishonesty referred to the way the peasant farmers were treated. Regardless, dishonesty is not seen in a good light while the shrewd behaviour which is lauded. 

 

I am going to offer for perusal a couple of thoughts I had while reading the parable.

 

One thought I had was as the steward was being commended for being shrewd. His shrewdness focused on future planning and well-being. I think this is a point for all to heed. I have met people who believe that it is wrong to plan for their future, as it shows a lack of trust in a God who will provide all their needs. In the extreme, seeing any future planning as revealing a lack of faith. Of course, I respect their views. Yet this parable highly values responsible planning for future well-being. It is heralded as a good and positive thing. It is even rewarded. orth thinking about. 

 

But perhaps my lingering thoughts are about the exploitation of the poor.  However, it came the result was that the main beneficiaries in the parable are the poor who had their bills lowered. I think it is important that this point is not lost. Whatever the motives the poor benefitted. 

 

In spite of a poor start, the manager also came out well, The lowering of the bills was presumably by removing the interest — the percentages given in the parable were the normal percentage added for oil and wheat. As the manager realized he could soon be one of “the poor” could the manager be showing a newfound compassion for the poor? 

 

In turn, perhaps the manager’s behaviour challenged the landowner about their practices allowing interest to be added. Maybe the landowner’s conscience was pricked! Maybe manager’s behaviour served as a reminder of the law about interest which would leave no alternative but to commend the steward. 

 

Interestingly, in the gospel of Luke this parable is grouped with those showing compassion for those who are poor and oppressed. Context is always important when trying to understand the parables. Parables should also speak a relevant application for contemporary times. If I view this parable as one showing compassion for the poor, it can offer a challenge, something to think through this week. 

 

In what ways are the poor exploited?  

When I write my blog, I don’t intend it as an in-depth Bible study, it is simply how a certain text speaks to me in the moment. One thing that is important to me is trying to interact with the text honestly. It would be too easy just to spiritualise the verses, often to hide dealing with an unpalatable idea. I think that has happened too often in history, texts being twisted and spiritualised in an attempt to avoid what they say. 

Today, was one such text. It is a really hard passage to read and yet one often quoted as an example of the cost of discipleship . . . but in spite of the spiritualising not one that is really adhered to. 

 

In this text, Jesus says, “Whoever does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26)

 

Just going to make a quick aside here — once again even in this negative appeal notice the patriarchal bias in the text, to hate “wife and children”. Obviously, this entreaty was aimed at men not at a general audience. Even in this the women are invisible except as in relationship to a man.

 

I find this one of the unpalatable texts. I will say quite openly that I don’t hate father and mother, spouse and children or my sisters. I know very few people who do and, those, exceptions usually have a reason that is nothing to do with following any spiritual path. 

 

The text continues by offering some wise advice about estimating the cost before embarking on any venture (28-32). Good sound advice which I’m sure most people adhere to from time to time, I know I have. Perhaps phrased in contemporary times as “know what you are getting yourself into”. Although often, however much one tries to estimate the cost, there are still those unknown and unimagined consequences that are encountered. Nevertheless, the advice is worth heeding and counterbalances recklessness.

 

Today’s reading does not end with this advice but circles back to where it started, “none of you can become my disciples if you do not give up all your possessions.” Of course, in the time it was penned many of the possessions would be people — “wife and children”. It is another unpalatable verse. Give up all our possessions? It doesn’t even make a lot of sense to become homeless, hungry and destitute. 

 

So, when faced with the dilemma of unpalatable verses I tend to look at the wider picture presented in the Bible and even in the culture I live in.

 

 So, hating “father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters” seems to go against most of Jesus’ teaching with its focus on love: 

Jesus cared for his mother even while dying on the cross, 

Jesus celebrated at a wedding with family, 

Jesus intimated that others will become his siblings. 

In contemporary times, much is made of love, family and caring for each other. Hating family is not esteemed as a high value in any circles.

 

And instead of giving up all our possessions, I read much more focus on sharing and hospitality, caring for the poor and outcasts. I know that in our Celtic tradition the stories of the desert mothers and father and their wisdom impact us. That was their special calling but not for everyone.

 

For most people it is their “possessions” which allow them to help, love and serve others. Certainly, many stories in the gospels show how Jesus was cared for by those who shared their homes and food with him. 

 

I think what I want to say in all the above is that there are sometimes texts which don’t sit comfortably. They cause unease. Even they cause guilt or a feeling of inadequacy as they are largely ignored. So, I’m going to say quite openly, that today I am rejecting the ethos of a text that tells me to hate and to have no possessions.

 

I am going to follow the larger edict of Jesus to love and to use my possessions to love practically by caring and serving others.

(Photo: A cluster of butterflies at a campground in PA -2021)

 Our project over the summer months has been the New Way of Living — the last couple of weeks has been proof-reading, amending, more proof-reading, more amending, even more proof-reading. One phrase that I have read over and over again is “May I be as Christ to those I meet” — this phrase is now incorporated into every office. 

 

This morning, I have laid aside the New Way of Living to focus on the Lectionary readings. The gospel passage is the story of a woman who was bent over, unable to stand up straight (Luke 13:10-17). As I mused on the text, I became aware of how this woman could represent many women who were not able to stand up straight. 

 

Huge weights are on their backs causing them to bend over:

the weight of patriarchy, 

the weight of racial inequality, 

the weight of poverty, 

the weight of gender issues, 

the weight of safety issues,

the weight of autonomy over their own bodies. 

 

Many, many women stand in the place of this woman in the gospel reading, unable to stand up straight. The more I thought about it the sadder it made me feel. Yet, the text does offer some hope and some direction.

 

In this unique story, the woman does not seek healing or relief from her condition: 

I wonder if she had just accepted it as her lot in life (she had suffered for 18 years)

I wonder if she felt somewhat invisible (the text tells us she just appeared, yet she must have been physically there all the time but unseen)

 

Jesus saw her, Jesus talked to her, Jesus removed the burden that was weighing her down.

 

“May I be as Christ to those I meet”

 

In this text this is what being as Christ to those we meet would mean: 

Seeing the woman — there are too many unnoticed and invisible women

Talking to the woman — treating her a person in her own right

Helping the woman — relieving the weight on her back.

 

Not an easy task to be as Christ to those we meet — it can be quite costly.

 

The rest of the text documents the reaction of those present to Jesus enabling this woman to stand upright.

 

The most religious person present, the leader of the synagogue, stirred up the crowd against the woman being healed on the sabbath. I’m not going to linger here but I can’t help but think that still religious voices are being raised to keep women bent over.

 

Jesus’ response was amazing. He told the crowd that they tend to the needs of their animals — their oxen and their donkeys — so was he not correct in attending the needs of a woman? The implication being did they not consider the woman of more worth than an ox and a donkey?

 

As we seek to be as Christ to those we meet this little story of how Jesus treated one woman who could not stand up straight serves as a good model to be followed.