Lest We Forget

Today is Remembrance Sunday and I’m going to pause blogging through the gospels to reflect on it. 

 

Last night I caught a bit of the Royal British Legion Festival of Remembrance 2024. We will watch it in full today. It was an impressive event. I have included the link if anyone wants to join us in doing that.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HurhWjpRkD4

 

As the clock struck 11:00 a.m. on November 11, 1918, the guns fell silent along the Western Front, marking the end of hostilities in what was described as “the war to end all wars.”. Therefore, each year on November 11, the United States, the United Kingdom and many nations worldwide pause to remember and honour their military personnel. Today we are grateful, and thank those we know and meet for their service.

 

 In American, this observance is Veterans Day, while in the UK and other Commonwealth countries, it is known as Remembrance Day, also called Poppy Day. Though these holidays share historical roots, they differ in tone, traditions, and focus, reflecting each nation’s unique approach to honouring those who served in the wars.

 

Veterans Day and Remembrance Day both originated in response to the immense losses of World War I. They date back to 1919, marking the end of the war on November 11, 1918, when an armistice agreement was signed between Allied nations and Germany. Originally known as Armistice Day, this initial observance was to honour those who served in World War I and reflect on the cost of conflict. 

 

As time passed, however, each country’s approach evolved, with the United States eventually broadening the day to encompass veterans of all wars, while the UK and Commonwealth countries expanded their focus to honour all who died in military service, not only in World War I but also in conflicts since.

 

In the U.S. in 1938 Armistice Day became an official U.S. holiday to honour World War I veterans. However, after World War II and the Korean War, there was a movement to recognize veterans of all wars. In 1954, Congress amended the holiday, renaming it Veterans Day to honor all U.S. veterans. The emphasis is on recognizing the contributions and sacrifices of veterans who are still with us and acknowledging their service across all eras. Veterans Day in the United States has a celebratory quality, focusing on gratitude toward all who have served in the military, both living and deceased. Parades, community events, and speeches in honour of veterans are common across the country, contributing to a day of national pride and respect for those who answered the call to serve. One of the most prominent observances take place at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery, where wreaths are laid, and a moment of silence is held.

 

In contrast, Remembrance Day in the UK and Commonwealth countries is a much more solemn occasion, dedicated primarily to remembering the fallen. The day has a reflective tone, honouring those who made the ultimate sacrifice, with a particular focus on those who died in World War I, World War II, and subsequent conflicts. 

 

The red poppy, inspired by John McCrae’s famous poem “In Flanders Fields,” has become a symbol of remembrance in these nations, worn by millions in the days leading up to November 11 as a tribute to the lives lost in war. In the Festival of Remembrance video poppies play a prominent part. Poppy wreaths are laid at war memorials across the country, including the Cenotaph in London, where a formal ceremony is held each year with members of the royal family, government officials, and military leaders

 

“In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

    That mark our place; and in the sky

    The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

 

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

        In Flanders fields.

 

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

    The torch; be yours to hold it high.

    If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

        In Flanders fields.

 

 The observance often includes two minutes of silence at 11 a.m., a reflective gesture marking the “eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month,” symbolizing the moment the armistice went into effect in 1918. I remember the phrase well, even as a very young child in school the two-minute silence was observed.

 

So today,  we honour and reflect on those who served in the wars, I can’t help but think about the current world situation and how unstable it seems to be — a solemn time. It makes the words of the psalmist in today’s lectionary reading even more poignant.

 

“For G*d alone my soul in silence waits,

truly, my hope is in G*d.

G*d alone is my rock and my salvation,

my stronghold, so that I shall not be shaken.”  (62. 6-7)

(Photos: Poppies at our house, Arlington cemetery, war memorial where my great-uncle is honoured)

 

 

 

 

 

  

Manipulation and Service

 Two disciples, James and John, came to Jesus with a strange demand (Mark 10:35-45).

 They began the conversation in a way I would define as manipulative, if not slightly aggressive.

 

“Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you” (v. 35).

 

Whoa—that could be a lesson on how not to approach a teacher! I can imagine what I would say if one of my students came to me and said, “Jane, we want you to do whatever we ask of you.”

 

I would be taken aback. It would feel they were trying to manipulate me, and even before hearing their request, I'd be thinking, “Not a chance.” I imagine any of you who are teachers would feel the same.

 

Jesus reacted exactly as I would (although I would probably be a little sarcastic!), "Let’s hear the request, then."

 

And the request was selfish: “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”

 

What had happened to the unity among the Twelve (if it ever existed)? Did James and John see themselves as better or more worthy than the other ten?

 

Before I ponder that further, I want to set this story in context.

 

I spoke a few weeks ago about the unique structure of Mark’s Gospel, where both halves begin with a declaration that Jesus is the Messiah.

 

The first half (1:1 to 8:26) focuses on Jesus’ ministry. There are no birth stories or childhood anecdotes in Mark. The Gospel opens with, “The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah,” and from there, it’s a fast-paced series of miracles, healings, and teachings. Blind people see, women and children are healed, multitudes are fed—caring for others even takes precedence over observing the Sabbath.

 

But Mark 8:27 marks a turning point. Here, Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah, and from then on, the journey shifts from Galilee toward Jerusalem. The second half focuses less on public ministry and more on preparing for what is to come.

 

Today’s text is part of that journey to Jerusalem. This conversation happens immediately after Jesus’ third prediction of his death.

 

I should also mention that the Gospel of Matthew (20:20-28) contains this story almost word for word, with one significant difference: in Matthew, it is the mother of James and John who makes the request. Sadly, she’s another unnamed woman defined by her relationship to males—in this case, three of them.

 

As an aside, I wonder why Mark leaves her out, or conversely, why Matthew includes her. Was the woman so totally insignificant to Mark that she was invisible?

Did Matthew think it was more acceptable for a woman to be manipulative, but not men?

 

But let’s return to the text and the dilemma of James and John trying to manipulate Jesus with their selfish request. It seems human nature hasn’t changed much over the centuries. This need to be better than one’s peers is pervasive. Our whole culture is soaked in it—competition, comparison, and the desire to outdo others. I think it’s something worth reflecting on.

When is competition healthy and encouraging? 

When does it become dark, destructive, and bring out the worst in human nature?

 

James and John wanted higher honour than the other ten disciples. The result? Discord and division within this small group of twelve (v. 41). The others were angry with James and John. By trying to elevate  themselves and make themselves superior, they made the others inferior.

 

Jesus used this moment to teach them all. Jesus response to their desire to be the greatest and most honoured was simple: serve.

If you want to be great—serve. 

If you want to be first—serve.

 

Jesus is the example: “The Child of Humanity came not to be served but to serve, and to give their life as a ransom for many.”

 

As I reflect on the story of James and John, I realise that the desire to be great may not be inherently wrong—it’s natural. But what really matters is how we define greatness. 

 

Jesus redefines it for us, showing that true greatness is found in humble service, not in seeking power or position. Jesus invites us to follow his example, where serving others leads to a richer, more meaningful life.

 

So, more questions to ponder this week:

In my own life am I ever tempted to seek recognition or status over service?

Do I ever try to manipulate others?

How can I create more opportunities to serve the people around me?

 

The path to greatness, according to Jesus, isn’t about climbing to the top. It’s about lifting others up. Imagine what could happen if we embraced that call. Imagine the change it could bring—in our lives, in our families, in our world.

 

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Character Matters

Character matters — I think that is maybe one of the main messages of the gospel lectionary this week (John 1.47-end).

 

The text opens with Nathanael coming towards Jesus who looked up and exclaimed, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.” (47)

 

What a commendation that is. A person with no deceit, a person who is honest, genuine and straightforward — a great character.

 

In my last two blogs I commented about how apt the texts were in the light of the upcoming election with all the lies, half-truths and derogatory remarks being made with no thought to the harm such accusations cause. One only needs to look at the Haitian community to see the harm caused by lies told for political gain. I think this opening phrase is also very apt for this particular time.

 

I want to look a little more at Nathanael. It is assumed that Nathanael in John’s gospel is the Bartholomew of the synoptics. The scriptures give no direct link, but the comparison of the lists of apostles has led to that understanding. It is often thought that Nathanael is the given name while Bartholomew was the surname.

 

Today, I want to ponder only on this first encounter with Jesus. To do so, I want to back up a little and set the text in context. Nathanael was invited to come and see Jesus by his friend Philip. It is clear they were both versed in the scriptures, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the law, and about whom the prophets wrote — Jesus of Nazareth” (45)

 

“Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” (46) was the response. It is here I want to pause and dwell for a moment. It is quite a response showing blatantly the prejudice against people from Nazareth. Nazareth was a tiny place; Nathanael was from Cana and was likely emphasizing a commonly held view.

 

So where do such prejudices come from? They are deeply ingrained and often held without people realizing they hold them. Prejudices come from our family, our upbringing, our social circle, our culture and, more recently, from social media.

 

Often, it is easy to see where a prejudice is coming from in others. I read or hear something, I recognize the bias and refuse to accept it until I check it out — especially those opinions on social media!

 

However, most of the prejudice we hold are unconscious. Others are needed to open our eyes to them and reveal them for the bias they hold. That is exactly what happened to Nathanael. He was challenged by his friend, Philip, “Come and see.” (46). 

 

A short sentence, but a profound one and a very important one. Those few words issue a challenge — don’t remain with your prejudice, Nathanael but come and check it out. I don’t know what went on in Nathanael’s mind and heart, the text offers no detail or insight. 

 

Facing our prejudices is often like that, a short phrase or action challenges and everything changes. It is like a veil has fallen away. There is no going back — I’m sure, like me, you can look back and see times when this has happened in your lives. These are significant moments.

 

Everything changed for Nathanael, he laid aside the deep-seated prejudice and went to meet Jesus. And was met by that wonderful phrase, “an Israelite in whom there is no deceit”. 

 

Nathanael was honest, open and straightforward. He had received the challenge to his innate prejudice, accepted the challenge and moved beyond it revealing the character of the person he was. Character matters!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Follow Me!

The lectionary passage is Mark 8.27-end. I have talked before about the unique structure of the Gospel of Mark, but it is worth noting again.

 

The first half (1:1 to 8:26) is all about the ministry of Jesus. There are no birth stories or childhood tales in the Gospel of Mark.  The gospel opens with the words “The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah …” followed by the appearance of John the Baptizer, who is shown to be a fulfillment of a prophecy by Isaiah (1:2-3). After which the verses are full of miracles, healings and teachings on how to live. The stories come thick and fast, short, concise tales one after the other — blind people see, women and children are healed, multitudes are fed, caring for people supersedes the sabbath, the disciples are sent out to expand the message of Jesus and Jesus’ mission is shown to be for all. 

 

Mark 8: 27 (and the first verse of today’s text) is a turning point as the journey to the cross begins. Peter declares Jesus is the Messiah and from there on the journey moves away from Galilee and towards Jerusalem. The focus of the second half is less on public ministry and more on preparation for what is to come. It is worth noting that both sections of the Gospel of Mark begin with a declaration that Jesus is the Messiah. 

 

Interestingly, immediately after Peter’s declaration, Jesus’ response is to “sternly order them not to tell anyone about him.” (30). I wonder why this was as it is a departure from the focus of the preceding chapters when the disciples were sent out to proclaim the good news. Perhaps, it was merely because the word “Messiah” was loaded with expectations of someone who would arise to lead the people into victory and thus create a different mission for Jesus.  But I prefer to think that it is more about revelation. Recognising Jesus as Messiah was about something deeper than could be told in words, is that sense of inward knowing. 

 

As the text continues Jesus begins the preparation of his followers by talking about suffering and dying. Then Jesus spoke to the crowds and issued a challenge, “if any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (8:35).

 

I always like to highlight the impact this phrase would have had on the crowds hearing it. It would cause a ripple of shock and horror. In that society the word “cross” was not spoken, it was shameful, it was disgusting. Cicero (106-43 BCE) said that the mere mention or thought of the word cross was unworthy of a Roman citizen or free person. (Cic.Rab.Perd. 5:16)

 

Not only is Jesus uttering a word that should not be uttered but is stating that the only way to become a follower is to embrace something which is shameful, degrading and excruciatingly painful. Jesus is asking a lot of the crowds who follow him.

 

I think it is important to remember as one reads passages like this, that by the time this gospel was penned (approx. 60 CE) Jesus’ followers were already undergoing persecution which is thought to have started 35 CE. So, these words would bring a measure of comfort and encouragement that this was to be expected. This was the price for following Jesus and the reward would be reaped when Jesus “comes in glory of the Father-Mother with the angels.” (38)

 

I think it is difficult to think of a contemporary application of these words for today. In a sense, there was a simplicity about the message although definite not an easy one. — 

 

Receive revelation that Jesus was Messiah, 

Choose to follow Jesus 

Accept that the decision may cause persecution and loss of life 

Look forward to future reward. 

 

It is not so straightforward these days. This has been highlighted by the current political situation. It seems that it is no longer receiving the revelation that Jesus is Messiah that determines whether one is a follower of Jesus. It comes with a whole host of expectations — this week I got told by several people (in extreme and very unkind terms) that I was not a Christian simple because I voiced that I thought one presidential candidate was “fantastic”! 

 

I know others who have had the same experience. It makes me feel sad, somehow it feels like something important has been lost when religion becomes tangled with politics. I’m not sure what can be done about it. I have no answers. Simply a determination to speak for what I think is right and just but to treat those who disagree with kindness. 

 

A Warning!

I am reading the lectionary gospel (Mark 7.1-8, 14-15, 21-23) and epistle (James 1. 17 to end) in tandem today. The passages are connected, they address the same thing. They are not uplifting, maybe a little weird with the potential for condemnation of both self and others. And the last thing I want to blog about is a topic that leaves people feeling low and perhaps guilty that they aren’t good enough. I see no profit in that whatsoever.

 

Both these passages talk about things that one needs to rid oneself of. Having lived quite a lot of years now, I know one thing — no one is perfect! All will fail and do things they regret both in the past and likely in the future. This is part of our humanness. God created humanity with all the wonderful potential for living our own lives and making our own mistakes. A popular adage tells that “We learn by our mistakes”, and there is a lot of truth in that.

 

Yet, I think there is a warning to be heeded in these two passages. A warning that is perhaps more needed now than usual as the US moves into a pre-election period. The warning in both texts is simply that it is what utters forth from a person that causes harm.

 

It saddens me a lot to hear and read ugly words that are intended to harm, belittle and incite others to hatred. Surely, there must be a way to disagree on policies without hating the person who is voicing them. 

 

Of course, I know nothing much will change over the next couple of months, but I can refuse to be part of it. And, I can tell you there has been quite a few times lately when I have been tempted to forward a clever cartoon or meme showing a candidate in bad light. (I’m only human after all!)  But I have resisted sharing them.

 

Now don’t hear me wrongly. I’m not in any way suggesting that our political situation should be ignored. This is an important election; it determines the future of this country. I’m all for supporting an issue, for speaking against injustice and for working for those who are marginalized. That is an important part of our calling to serve which is part of our community rule — to love, to serve, to forgive.

 

It is important that a way is found where that can be done without making personal inflammatory attacks on someone’s looks or behavior. Over the next few weeks, I want to make a commitment to doing that. 

 

Will I fail at times — probably! 

 

But that is okay, I’ll learn, pick myself up and continue, all the time thanking God for my humanness.

 

 

 

 

For the third Sunday on the run the lectionary focuses on bread as it slowly meanders through chapter 6 of the gospel according to John. Yet within this extended metaphor of bread there are lots of themes. 

 

In the first part of the metaphor (25-33) the focus is on whom the bread came from — the Mother-Father. This section culminates with the phrase “For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” (33) The focus is all on the one who sends — bread from God, bread from heaven.

 

Then in verse 34 the focus changes. Jesus declares, “I am the bread of life.” I talked about this in my last blog. But here, in the sequential view of the passage, it is written to establish who Jesus was. Jesus is the one who came from God, “I am the bread that came down from heaven”. (41).

 

Today, the lectionary passage starts with verse 51. It is a transitional verse between the second and third parts of the discourse on bread. It is the conclusion on the focus on Jesus as the bread — “I am the living bread that came down from heaven” (51a).  Then the beginning of the introduction to the concept of flesh — “this bread is my flesh which I give for the life of the world” (51c)

 

This is a significant change in the metaphor. To recap, firstly was the bread sent from heaven the focus on the one who sent it. Secondly the focus was on Jesus as the bread that was sent from heaven (the divinity of Jesus) and now the focus has moved to bread as the flesh of Jesus. It is no longer on the divinity but on the humanity. The one who came as flesh.

 

Earlier, I read several articles about whether this section of John 6 is Eucharistic or not — both sides had good points. Personally, I suspect there is a hint of Eucharistic understanding in it especially given the late dating of the book of John but there is also so much more. By seeing it as only Eucharistic something is lost.

 

As I often do, I want to think about the impact these words (51-58) would have had on the contemporary audience. I think that often helps when considering a passage. Personally I have read and heard these seven verses so many times that they have become commonplace. They are part of our faith, our tradition and are accepted and read as such. They don’t cause any major unrest.

 

But for those following Jesus, and the later first and second readers of the gospel, they would have been totally shocking. Really, really offensive. As they were said, I can imagine a stunned silence. I can imagine a wave indignation. Even questioning, did Jesus really say that — “whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life.” 

 

This phrase and concept go against everything the audience has understood and been taught from childhood. It is against the Jewish tradition and law and would have been heard as such.

 

“No one among you shall eat blood, nor shall any stranger who dwells among you eat blood” (Leviticus 17:12)

 

So, this would have been very offensive to the Jewish audience. This attacked their culture — who they were at the very centre of their beings. It destabilised everything they were, loved and felt. Culture, tradition and upbringing are really important. I feel English, nothing will change that, it doesn’t matter how long I have lived in USA, my culture is English. I have neighbours from different countries, we talk and share our different experiences. They too feel a sense of belonging to their cultures. In addition to my experience, one only has to look at the contemporary media to see how offensive an attack on a person’s culture is and how important and deeply ingrained culture is. 

 

It is hard, if not impossible, to understand why the bread metaphor went from a pleasant metaphor about bread as nourishing and sustaining to something that would be a stumbling block for many. 

 

The lectionary passage concludes with a re-emphasis on the bread metaphor, “the one who eats this bread will live forever” (58). Clearly, this not a reference to physical life as at the time the gospel was penned many would have already died. Nevertheless, certainly an encouragement after a hard passage. Yet, it does not negate the impact of those few verses about eating flesh and blood.

 

Although today’s lectionary text ends with that final bread phrase, there is a fourth section to this bread discourse (although bread in not actually mentioned).  It is important as it reenforces how much offence was caused. I wonder if, maybe, it provided an explanation to why so many followers left Jesus. 

 

The concluding section starts with the words that Jesus said this “while teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum”. (59)  

 

No longer on a mountain but in a synagogue — wow! That must have felt even worse to the listeners, maybe even heretical. The disciples grumbled and one acknowledged, “This is a hard teaching”.  (60-61) 

 

But then the story twists again, “The Spirit gives life, the flesh counts for nothing”.  (62) This was clearly included later as the text goes on to references the ascension and ensuing Spirit. 

 

I can’t help but wonder if this was penned to minimize damage as the word blood is omitted?  Nevertheless, at this point in the story many leave and no longer follow Jesus (66). The twelve remain, culminating with Peter acknowledging that they believe Jesus was the one from God. (69)

 

The metaphor of bread in John 6 is a bit like a roller-coaster ride there are so many twists and turns, highs and lows. But, I want to end back at today’s interesting lectionary passage which I have tried to set in a little context. 

 

As it clearly caused offence talking about eating flesh and blood, it does raise for me lots to ponder about offence and should one abandon a cause if one is offended. And, of course, I’m not talking about trivial little offences but those that challenge everything one is and has held dear.

 

So, this week I’ll be thinking a lot about principles, upbringing and tradition — 

What is heresy and what is new revelation? 

When does one remain with one’s tradition or when does one abandon it to embrace new concepts?

 

Lots to muse on

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “I am the bread of life” is the dramatic climax of today’s lectionary reading (John 6:24-35). 

 Bread —a simple word that often conjures up a wealth of images and memories for most people in the west. Often the most inviting sight in a supermarket is shelves full of different breads, often hard to resist. Or the aroma when walking past a bakery entices one to go in and buy bread. Or walking into the kitchen when I have been baking and the smell hits me — tempting to break off a small piece of cooling bread. 

 

There is nothing quite like the aroma of baking bread!

 

Bread has sustained humanity for millennia. It is not surprising then that it is mentioned often in religious texts. The focus of the gospel lectionary for the last two weeks has been bread (John 6) — the feeding of the five thousand, recalling the story of manna in the wilderness and this declaration by Jesus that he is the bread of life. Stories that are well-known, capturing the imagination of generations of readers. Stories that have both physical and spiritual implications.

 

Even the stories themselves sit in juxtaposition to each other and that, in itself, is worth pondering. How do the relate to and expand on each other.

 

Firstly, the recalling of manna in the wilderness — God providing food for hungry people out of nothing earthly for an extended period of time. Although, I’m not focusing on it today, the story makes interesting reading about care and sustenance.

 

Secondly, the feeding of the many thousands of people. In this story, people are not fed out of nothing, but fed from the giving of the five loafs — an oft overlooked part of the story is the generosity of the child who gave up their picnic to share with others. Bread was multiplied and all were fed and satisfied.

 

Thirdly, Jesus uses the metaphor of bread to declare that he is the bread that will satisfy and sustain life.

 

And, although it is not part of today’s lectionary, as we celebrate Eucharist today, bread will feature prominently as it does each week. A reminder, or enactment, of betrayal, death and ultimately new life. 

 

But today, I am not thinking about the details of each story but pondering the metaphor of bread used. 

 

Perhaps, today, my most notable observation is the huge compassion for those who were physically hungry. The pre-eminent concern in both the story of the feeding of the five thousand and the gift of manna was ensuring everyone got enough to eat. It is important that no one went hungry that day, a point emphasized by showing that there was surplus.

 

Throughout the years in my work in schools and with foster children taking care of physical needs is often the priority. Hungry, hurting children and teenagers can’t think about anything else. They can’t learn when they are hungry. Well-being depends on their physical needs being met. Bread is needed!

 

I also know when I come home from teaching, or some other meeting, the first thing I do is put the kettle on. I take care of the physical need; only then can I focus on the myriads of tasks I need to do. 

 

In these stories in the gospel of John the physical needs are taken care of before the spiritual ones. Even the one who ultimately betrayed was fed before leaving. I find much to ponder in this idea. It is an important one. In many ways, it is a reversal of what is often taught about spirituality. It is only after people have been fed the texts turn to a spiritual application, of deep inner hungers being satisfied. 

 

So, I will continue to ponder these bread stories this week as I hold in tension the connection between them, the interplay of the physical and the spiritual. 

Self-Sacrifice v Self-Care

Yesterday, we drove for six and three-quarter hours! As many of you know (and thanks for the good wishes) we have been on vacation.  For us, vacation means ocean, sunshine and sea breezes. So as in previous years, we headed for the Delaware beaches and set up our campsite in one of the many state parks enjoying the sands and the miles of cycle tracks. 

 

Now we often go camping, but many of our trips are working ones — books are written and proofread, online courses and meetings are held although we enjoy the change of scenery. But our ocean time in Delaware is all holiday — we relax.  Of course, there were a couple or of mornings dealing with essential work emails and the needs of people. But mostly it was a time to recharge the batteries! 

 

In the lectionary reading (Mark 6. 30-34, 53-end), the disciples were urged to do just that. They had been sent out in pairs to go round the villages, to preach, to heal, to anoint with oil and to stay with strangers. At the beginning of today’s text, they were gathered around Jesus to report about all they had “done and taught”. (30) But it was busy, and Jesus suggested they go with him to a “to a quiet place and get some rest” (31). 

 

They sailed away to their place of rest, but the crowds followed. Jesus saw them and had compassion on them. He spent time teaching them many things. The lectionary passage skips the next bit of the story where Jesus’ compassion was not only on their spiritual wellbeing but on their physical wellbeing as he fed the crowd. The reading jumps to the end, where having found no rest they returned on their boat and more people met them bringing sick for help. 

 

Jesus’ ministry was one of self-sacrifice, the disciples followed that example. Their own need for quiet and rest was laid aside, as compassion for the people became the preeminent agenda.  It is a recurring theme in the gospels — setting the needs of oneself against the needs of those around. 

 

It is a theme I have mused on before; it even came up a bit at the retreat. If we follow the example of Jesus our lives become lives of self-sacrifice. Modern parlance talks a lot about self-care although that was not a concept in the first century. In today’s story attempts at looking after oneself seem to be thwarted by looking with compassion on the needs of those around. 

 

So, some hypothetical questions that I will continue to ponder this week

 

So, when does self-care become selfish? 

How do I get the balance? 

Should I even try and get the balance or follow the example of self-sacrifice pitted in today’s reading?

 

It was compassion that caused Jesus and friends to set aside their need for quiet. So, a second train of thought. 

 

I can’t feed the more than 5,000 people who follow me up a mountain! (Indeed, I don’t think 5,000 people would follow me up a mountain!)

 

So how is compassion manifest — I look at our community

Many have chosen careers that show compassion

Many financially support organisations that show compassion to both human and non-human people

Many work as volunteers to help others

In an election year — many will show compassion through their choice of voting.

 

So, a final thought to muse this week.

 

How do I show compassion and what’s the cost?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Earth

Earth is the focus of today’s gospel reading (Mark 4.26-34). Not the planet, the world, the cosmos but earth as in the physical substance I dig in, pull weeds from, plant in and see abundance of life spring forth from. I am quite fascinated by the earth. Quite a few years ago Andy and I made the decision to let a large part of our garden go wild. Going wild still requires tending; it needs more hours spending on it that we can give it! But we love the wildness, the everchanging landscape, the variety of wildlife it harbours. 

 

Therefore, I was intrigued to read of and muse on the connection between the earth and the realm of God. It has a very Celtic feel about it. I haven’t yet plunged the depth of all that must be contained in this connection but sense it is an important one. 

 

In the passage, Jesus uses two illustrations both are of seeds being nourished in the earth. In the first story, the realm of God is likened to seed scattered on the ground which grows without human intervention — “the earth produces of itself”. 

 

I know that often seeds are deliberately sown but watching our garden I am even more aware of how the earth itself is party to sowing seeds — many of our plants and trees are self-seeded. They grow in abundance. In a storm earlier this year we lost our very old redbud, (a larger spruce fell on it and destroyed it) but now we have baby redbuds springing up in abundance. Another great connection with the realm of God — the earth is generous and expansive.

 

The second story is of a mustard seed. Perhaps the first thing that springs to mind when mustard is mentioned is the yellow condiment often served with meals. I have seen mustard fields which have a particular beauty, yellow plants stretching as far as the eye can see. (Brassicaceae)

 

However, I think that common idea of mustard should be laid aside when thinking of this parable. I believe the seed put into the earth here produces the mustard tree which is native to Israel and several other countries in the Middle East and Africa. Salvadora Persica is actually a shrub which grows up to thirty feet tall. This shrub thrives in hot, dry conditions. It has many uses. Birds shelter and nest within its branches.  Tree leaves are said to help cure many diseases including coughs, asthma and rheumatism. Goats and camels also feed on them. It is also known as the toothbrush tree as the fibrous branches are used for teeth cleaning. The small berries are eaten, both fresh and dried, whilst the leaves are used to make salads. 

The earth produces this tree, which is a place of refuge, a place of new life, a place of healing and a place of nourishment. Such a wonderful picture on the realm of God. So today, we celebrate Eucharist outside, our feet on the earth, surrounded by the plants and trees brought forth by the earth and are reminded again of this connection, this linking of the earth and the realm of God.

 

 

 

 

 

A short blog today — mainly just some thinking out loud. As I write it, I am on a campground in the Pennsylvania foothills overlooking a lake. The sun is shining and the birds are singing. All seems well with the world.

 

“God did not send the Child into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through the Child. (John 3:17)

 

This short verse is part of the gospel lectionary today. It was the one part of the reading that caused me to pause and think deeply about it. It is a familiar verse, one often learnt and repeated by those new to the Christian faith. Yet sometimes it is that same familiarity that causes me to read the text quickly and forget to pause. So today, I want to linger here.

 

Mingled in with my thoughts is our community prayer “May we be as Christ to those we meet, may we find Christ within them”. They somehow seem to be interconnected.

 

Christ was not sent into the world to condemn it. Often when I open my Facebook page or read the news much of what I find is condemnation. Witty memes often masking people condemning other people who don’t think the same about religion or politics or the physical world. 

 

Why are we (as humans) so quick to condemn?

 Is it part of our nature? Is it part of the way we were nurtured? Or is it a combination? 

(A discussion that has been ongoing for centuries)

 

Whatever the reason, the good news is I can change. I can be in the habit of being careful about what I write or say. I’m glad that in the prayer book we have added to each office “May we be as Christ to those we meet, may we find Christ within them.” It is a daily reminder to strive to be Christlike and, in the light of today’s verse, not to condemn the world (the cosmos). A daily reminder to look for Christ in the surrounding beauty, in each animal and in each person (even if we disagree with them). 

 

The next part of the verse from the text says that the world might be saved by the Christ. I know the stereotypical way that this is perceived is as a single event of salvation, but I think there is a lot more to it than that. It is much deeper. As Jesus walked the earth how did he save the people from the situations they were in?  It was not just with words agreeing to a religious viewpoint; it was with acts of kindness and love. People were healed. Crowds were fed. Outcasts were acknowledged, Women were seen, not condemned. 

 

So, I walk a tightrope figuratively! 

 

I want to be as Christ to those I meet which means that I want to care for those I meet, especially the marginalized, the unseen, the hungry and the sick.  

 

I want to be as Christ to those I meet which means not condemning others even if they don’t think the same as I do. 

 

Can I find Christ within them all? For some, it is easier to find Christ in some than in others.

 

So here is my dilemma:

How do I stand against injustice and oppression without condemning people? 

How do I find Christ in both the oppressed and the oppressor, the abused and the abuser?

Is it even possible? 

 

So, some deep questions for me to ponder this week.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting and More Waiting

An interesting and hard to understand passage is the focus of the lectionary reading this week. (John 17.6-19)

 

On the surface it seems quite spiritual; talking about how the Christ is waiting to return to the Mother-Father. According to the text, prior to this returning Christ offered protection to those who are disciples but now Christ is asking the Mother-Father to provide that same protection. It sounds really good; the protection is now in the hands of the Mother-Father but (and it is a big but) this saying of Jesus was penned at a time when the followers of Christ were already under persecution. (85-90CE)

 

I always like to try to imagine how the words would sound to the early readers of the gospel. I have a hard time thinking how this would feel. The promise of protection yet seeing friends and family suffer. The exact number of Christians killed by Roman empire is undocumented. However, Eusebius, an early church historian, speaks of countless numbers and myriads perishing (Eusebius Pamphilus), estimates are that this was between 3,000 and 4,000. Several of the named disciples were included in the number of those martyred. Peter is believed to have been martyred in 64CE, twenty years before the Gospel of John was written, although, of course, these texts may have been part of the oral tradition. Regardless, it is well worth pondering on how this passage must have sounded to the early disciples.

 

The passage continues talking about how Jesus is sending or has sent disciples into the world. It is their mission and calling. That sense of calling must have been strong with those early Christians, hearing these words but already knowing the fate that would be waiting for them. 

 

Waiting for something to happen is an experience I think everyone shares. It could be waiting for something pleasant to happen. The great anticipation of birthdays, Christmas, holidays as a child always brought great pleasure to me. Although, I know for some children waiting for those occasions is accompanied with a sense of trepidation and dread. As adults the same mixed feelings surround times of waiting: new jobs, marriage, birth of children, moving home, medical results, vacations and, even, end of life. Excitement, apprehension, fear, joy, nervousness, impatience are all words associated with waiting. Waiting is very much part of the human experience.

 

The season of ascension focuses on waiting. The risen Christ has ascended to the Mother-Father and now begins the time of waiting for the promised Holy Spirit. 

 

Perhaps, for the disciples the waiting period began even earlier with ascension being a highlight along the way. The gospels have different time frames. In John’s Gospel there is a much shorter time period between resurrection and ascension than in the synoptics. Traditionally, in the church’s calendar it is 40 days. 

 

Maybe, for them, the waiting period began with an incredible low as they witnessed the reality of death and crucifixion. They must have felt they had hit rock bottom. Yet, like the mythological phoenix, something was rising from the ashes — what a great picture that is of ascension! I have always loved the way C. S. Lewis expresses it in The Last Battle —"Their hearts leaped and a wild hope arose within them” (228)

 

But what a waiting period they must have been! The depths of despair as their hopes and expectations of a Messiah ended on a cross.  Hope and expectation rekindled at the news of resurrection with then some walks, some conversations and a shared meal with the risen Christ culminating with watching Christ ascending. 

 

But still the waiting continues as they prepare themselves for empowerment for the next phase of their lives. Empowerment that allowed the disciples over the next couple of centuries to follow the calling of being sent to bear witness to the Christ story whilst knowing the fate that would be waiting for them. 

 

 

Pruning

Our beautiful magnolia tree, which is much taller than the house, bloomed this week, a mass of gorgeous pink blossoms. Every year Andy and I enjoy just sitting and admiring its beauty. Sadly, due to the changing weather patterns this year, two days after blossoming, the weather dropped to several degrees below freezing. Our poor tree took the brunt of the cold. Instead of the glorious pink we should now be seeing, each blossom is now dead and brown. I feel very sad about it.

 

Regardless, the lectionary reading (John 15. 1-8) seemed apt for the season. Our minds have this week turned to how much work we need to do in our garden. Lots of clean up, raking leaves and picking up small branches. In addition to losing the lovely Magnolia, we have lost two of our magnificent spruces (both well over 120 feet) due to storms and high winds. The gospel reading reflects the concept of that spring preparing (at least, in the Western hemisphere). 

 

When Jesus told stories, many of the illustrations used would be relevant to those listening. They were about daily or seasonal events that would have been part of their everyday life. They would have seen and experienced what Jesus was talking about.

 

In this story, Jesus is using the analogy of a vine-grower and a vine. Where we live, in the Finger Lakes, there are many vineyards. The abundance of fruit produced goes to make wine — growers competing for best wines get awards. Our local wine shops proudly display a whole aisle of “local wines” and hosts tastings of them. Of course, now the Finger Lakes wines can now be seen in many more places than just our local area.

 

But to produce a good harvest of fruit there are several requirements. Sun, soil, grafting, good roots and pruning. It is the pruning that today’s reading focuses on. Pruning is an annual task done right at the end of winter when the vines are dormant. The grape vines are cut right back, leaving just a few canes with only four or five buds each. Pruning is done to allow each branch to get sunlight, to be rid of less healthy branches, to promote growth and to avoid diseases.

 

A perfect picture for those listening to this story told by Jesus. Sometimes, this parable is used with a negative connotation with the focus on being gathered up and throne in the fire, almost like a punishment! 

 

I think this is a much more positive story and would have been understood as such. The message is getting rid of the old to make room for the new. 

 

That is the cycle of life — getting rid of the old to make room for the new. Old things are discarded to make room for new things. I think if we were together and sitting round the table each of us would be able to chime in with old things that have been discarded to make room for new. Tangible things like clothes, cars, houses, jobs, but also ideas and beliefs as people develop, grow, mature and change. It is a good thing.

 

It is still sometimes celebrated with the “Burning of the Vines” marking the end of the pruning season. The new life is beginning, and burning ensures that no diseases from the old stock can harm the new. Nowadays, some grape wood is saved to burn later often on a barbecue, as the smoke enhances the flavour of the veggie burgers (for us!).

 

This parable highlights that our spirituality is part of the cycle of life, the old always making room for the new, growth being welcomed and nothing left that would be stale or unproductive.