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. 

Is it Really that Simple?

“What? It is really that simple?“ was my first reaction when I read the lectionary gospel this week. 

 

What am I talking about? I am pondering the concluding sentence of the very short Johannine reading (John 13: 31-35). It is all about love. According to this text, love is the litmus test which shows who are true followers of Christ.

 

It seems so simple, yet in practice it can be quite difficult. Of course, love is many faceted, if anyone wants to look at all the different aspects of love I’ll recommend + Andy’s book Love as a Guide to Morals.

 

Interestingly, the compilers of the lectionary chose to pair this passage on love with a story from Acts (11:1-18). It seems the disciples had already forgotten about loving one another so needed a sharp reminder. Peter had a vision all about eating, what was clean and what was unclean. For emphasis it was repeated three times. The details of the vision are not so important, but the message is. This loving each other, as an expression of discipleship, was expansive. It wasn’t just for those who were “in” — their friends, those who followed the same religion or were from the same cultural background. Loving one another extends to everyone.

 

Yesterday, once again there was a horrendous attack, a mass shooting at a supermarket in upstate New York. Terribly sad, our prayers today will be for the victim’s families and the recovery of the injured. The preliminary findings show that this was a racially motivated attack. Sadly, the message the lectionary brings today still has not been heeded. It makes me feel heavy inside, why is it so hard to love and accept everyone? How in 2022 is our culture still in a place where there is a perceived need to attack anyone who looks, thinks, speaks, dresses, eats, resides, feels, believes, acts differently from oneself?

 

I have always been a fan of C.S. Lewis. I’ve always loved the seven books in the allegorical Narnia series. In the final book, The Last battle, the protagonists reach Aslam’s Country. Surprisingly, they see a Calormene soldier, Emeth, there. Throughout the series the Calormenes have been the enemy of Narnia. Questions are asked, how can an enemy, someone who is so different be included in Aslan’s Country? Aslan explained that all the good done by Emeth was good done to Aslan, even if it was not acknowledged as such. Interestingly, the inclusion of this story line all about love and acceptance brought critical reviews of Lewis at the time he penned it.. Personally, I think it was a great storyline moving towards inclusion. 

 

In the community we have often said “all truth is God’s truth”.  Today, I want to add all love is God’s love. As I glance around locally or read of kindnesses done all over the world, even in the midst of acts of hate like seen yesterday, I see outpouring of love. Love is a reflection of God and well worth recognizing as such wherever it is found.

 

What Happened?

 Time goes so quickly — a constant reminder not to waste a moment of it. Already it is a week since Easter Sunday and, this year in Upstate New York, the change in the physical seasons reflects the change in the spiritual. All of a sudden it feels like winter is over and spring has finally arrived. The snows of last weekend have turned to sunshine today. 

 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I do not underestimate the importance of winter — a time of hiddenness and preparation, of unseen growth, a womb time. But now, it is time for life to start to burst forth, a time of hope and promise. The shoots are pushing through the soil, the trees are starting to bud and the glimmer of a green canopy can be seen around the deciduous ones. 

 

Earlier this morning Andy and I were treated to a dance by the Turkey Vultures. It is a sight that each year fills us with wonder. They overnight in our very tall pine trees and then they spend perhaps half an hour swirling and dancing overhead obviously catching the wind currents. The movement of the birds reflect joy. They are magnificent creatures. It is always a privilege to watch them.

 

I think that sense of hope and promise that spring brings to Upstate New York would have been present with the disciples in the story told in the lectionary today (John 20:19-31). The text contains a two-fold tale. The first is of the disciples gathering in fear behind locked doors when Jesus appears to them, gives them the gift of the Holy Spirit and the blessing of peace. 

 

The second is the story of Thomas, who missed out on the prior visit of Jesus, and a week later had his own post-resurrection visit. Thomas’ need for this visit has given rise to him being labelled “doubting”. Personally, I don’t like this interpretation of the text. I prefer to see Thomas as desperate to have the same spiritual experience as others. I think everyone is a bit like that wanting to see and experience for themselves rather than hear about it second-hand. I have just written about how wonderful it was to watch the Turkey Vultures, anyone reading my account can recognize what it meant to us but cannot feel the same wonder without having been there. It sure it must have been the same for Thomas. I have written and spoken about this many times before. (It is in my blog entitled “Thomas’s Plea for Inclusion”)

 

So, although I love the story and humanness of Thomas, my musing today will return to the other disciples. As a lingering thought this week, I want to consider all that happened in that room where the disciples were hiding in fear behind closed doors. The text contains the Johannine account of the giving of the Holy Spirit, which is a quieter, gentler version of the event than the one told in Luke/Acts and I like that. No tongues of fire or sound like a mighty rushing wind are seen and heard. Instead, Jesus simply breathed on them and gave a blessing of peace. And they were changed. 

 

I think most people can identify with that — something happens, a significant life event, or a realization of something deep within oneself and it changes everything. Nothing will ever be the same again. It is not just an outward change but a deep inner change — and hopefully one for good! The experience may lead to an instant change or may be the catalyst that begins the work to be done with a determination for change to happen. 

 

The change for the disciples was momentous. They were behind closed doors afraid of the same fate befalling them. All it took was one breathe, and the fear left them or started to leave them. One of the other readings in the lectionary today (Acts 2:27-32) is the story of the disciples before the high priest being reprimanded for speaking and teaching in the name of Jesus. Their fearless response is that they are obeying God rather than the human authority (29). A profound change had happened, a wonderful example of non-violent disobedience, and all because they were breathed on and received a blessing of peace.

What a crowd!

Palm Sunday’s readings unsettle the normal rhythm of the lectionary. I think that is a good thing, as anything a little strange or out of the ordinary causes a ripple to which the reader pays extra attention. So, today, it is worth highlighting that the usual pattern of the lectionary is disrupted. The first reading is a gospel story and, incidentally the text upon which I will focus today. Following this reading is the litany of the passion, the litany of the psalms, a text from the epistles followed by a second long gospel passage.

 

I urge each person reading this blog to spend some time with the litany of the passion, the litany of the Psalms and the longer gospel passage (Luke 22:13 to the end of chapter 23) during the next week — the final week of Passiontide. I would be interested to hear whether it was meaningful to reflect on these longer texts in the days leading up to the Easter events.

 

But today, on this Palm Sunday, I’m going to remain with the first, shorter reading (Luke 19:28-40). It is the story of the triumphant entry into Jerusalem where Jesus rides into the city on a colt with crowds shouting and throwing down their cloaks to protect the young animal’s hooves. 

 

I have attended a few parades in the past. There is always an air of excitement, crowds push forward as they see distant figures and anticipate the approach. There is something about crowds gathering whether it is at fun carnivals, solemn parades honouring royalty or famous dignitaries or more serious protests. They take on a life of their own. People are captured by the excitement of the moment.  The emotions of the crowd supersede and add to the emotions of the individual. 

 

As I read this text, describing in just a few words the triumphant entry into Jerusalem, I can try to imagine a little of the vibrant atmosphere. Yet, I can’t fully enter into the joy of the event portrayed as I know the end of the story. So, my reading is always tinged with sadness. Crowds that are cheering and shouting, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of God! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven” (38) will in just a few short days be jeering and shouting, “Crucify, crucify him’ (Luke 23:21).

 

What happened? 

How did cheering turn to jeering?

How did acknowledging Jesus as one from God turn to demanding death and public shame? 

Are human beings really that fickle?

 

I wonder could personal beliefs and public opinion really change that quickly. At both events, could it be that the mass hysteria of the crowd mask the true feelings of the individuals (either pro or against Jesus). I find this a salutary warning on a number of levels.

 

As I ponder the stories, spiritually this final week of Passiontide is an emotional roller-coaster, full of paradoxes; disturbing and inspiring, unsettling and uplifting, sorrowful and joyful, turbulent and peaceful.

 

So, if like for me this week is a bit of a roller-coaster — hold on tight, the ride is about to begin!

 

 

Welcoming the Outcast

As seems to be the norm in the gospels, Jesus was receiving criticism from the religious of the day. The complaints which heralded this week’s lectionary passage were used to introduce

a series of parables (Luke 15: 1-3, 11 to end). 

 

The complaint was simply, that Jesus “welcomes sinners and eats with them” (2). When I started to write I had intended considering the first three parables in the series, the third of which is main part of the text for today. I had even started to type a paragraph or two, but I kept returning to the first couple of verses and so decided to remain with them. I’m sure I will continue to ponder these verses throughout the week.

 

So, I paused and thought about that phrase — “welcomes sinners and eats with them”. I find it very powerful. Immediately, it gave rise to a couple of thoughts to muse over this week:

 

Who would be considered today’s tax collectors (1) and sinners? 

How would I welcome tax collectors and sinners?

 

Yet, I found these questions quite hard to pose even hypothetically. As I considered how to phrase the questions it was difficult not to resort to “them and us” language which I dislike  Even worse to “them and us” thinking which I hate even more. 

 

All around I see far too much division into “them and us”. This thinking is present in all spheres of contemporary life, rampant in our society from political life, to career status, to psychological testing, to everyday conversations. It exposes the roots of racism, sexism, homophobia, etc. The tendency for division and separation is rife. 

 

Clearly, in the text when the Pharisees and scribes were complaining about tax collectors and sinners the implication is that they are not “us”. They are different from “us”.  Jesus shouldn’t want to be associated with “them”. There needs to be a distance and a distinction between “us” and “them”.

 

So, three further hypothetical questions for me to ponder over the coming week are;

How can such thinking be prevented? 

Even, is it possible to prevent such thinking be stopped? 

Or, is it too deeply ingrained and encultured into our lives and thought patterns to be vanquished?

 

It is really hard to change something so deeply embedded in culture. I only have to read a newspaper or listen to a news programme or even glance through some newsfeeds on social media to see that “us and them” language permeates society. 

 

And the final question which I’ll be musing on this week is, how do I welcome and eat with those on the margins, today’s “sinners and tax collector”?  Welcoming all as “us” without even the smallest inkling of anyone being “them”. Quite a task but I think one worth pursuing.

 

 

 

 

 

In the liturgical calendar the season has changed, Lent is now being celebrated. Lent began on Wednesday, 2 March and will last until Thursday 14 April. — a long season of 40 days. Lent is a solemn time of remembering all the circumstances leading up to the Easter event and all the wonder that encompasses.

 

The text for today (Luke 4:1-13), records the story of how, after baptism, Jesus goes into the wilderness. It is a time of preparation before fulfilling the special ministry Jesus was called to. 

 

I just want to comment on the wilderness.  I know I am repeating myself so apologies to those who have heard me say this before. I don’t think when Jesus went into the wilderness it was just to find a patch of wild and rough country and abide there. I think it was a much more purposeful time of preparation than that. I think Jesus probably went to the Essene community in the wilderness possibly where John may have been educated. A place where undisturbed time could be spent in prayer and fasting. The same flavour that is expressed in the meditation in the Way of Living, “In Scetis, a brother went to Abba Moses and begged him for a word. And the old man said: Go and sit in your cell and your cell will teach you everything.” (p. 390)

 

As another aside, before I get to the text, I also want to make a comment about fasting. This is an ancient practice observed during Lent formalized after the first council of Nicea (325CE) although clearly far older than that — amongst others Moses fasted for 40 days (Exodus 34:28). Fasting is a spiritual practice. I also think it is a choice for each person, how or if they observe this practice. I have been mildly disturbed by some things I have read almost in the vein of who can fast the most or who can re-interpret the word to not mean giving up food. Happily, I have not seen such comments from anyone in Lindisfarne but I still wanted to say that fasting is not a great big competition. It is not about who can be the best faster! it is a personal choice between each individual and the God they serve. It is a private spiritual practice — no one needs to share how they are fasting or if they are fasting. I love the words of Jesus on the sermon on the mount, “And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting . . . But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Mother-Father who is in secret” (Matt. 6:16-18)

 

But back to the text, when Jesus was at the end of the allotted fasting time Jesus was tempted. I thought a lot about the three areas of temptation that Jesus was challenged with and overcame. I found it interesting that these three areas could be seen as those that are common to many. Actually, I wonder if these three areas are constantly being dangled as temptation before each person.

 

In the first vision Jesus was tempted over material needs — Jesus was hungry and was tempted over food. In my musings, I widened it to more than simple bread. Yesterday, Andy and I visited a supermarket to buy food and as we entered the store we were immediately assaulted by displays of Easter candy — chocolate, chocolate everywhere! It all looked very mouthwatering and tempting.  And, of course, the temptation for material things is much more than chocolate but still it is everywhere. Through my email and on social media I constantly get unsolicited posts about things I may want to possess. It feels like,  if I let it, it could be a never-ending source of temptation. A few years ago we had a teenager in our home who stole from us (it has happened a lot over the years!). This particular teen took our goods and cashed them in at a store that bought them. Of course, we are not naive about such things and quickly discovered what was happening. When asked why, the teen responded that he didn’t think it was fair that some kids at school had a better phone than he did! It was an ill thought out plan but nevertheless illustrates the temptation that material goods can offer.

 

In the second vision Jesus was tempted by power and authority. It is another area that continually seems to be a source of temptation. People wanting to rule over other people. People wanting to be better than others. This can happen on a world scale (look no further than current headlines) but also on a smaller, more personal level at home, school or work.

 

In the third vision the temptation was safety and protection. Another big one as anxiety seems to beset this current generation. I have told before the story of an acquaintance, an older woman, who believed that if she had enough faith she would never die. It was ridiculous, but also utterly sad. She felt that her faith would protect her so she could do anything. I can see how that thinking about protection from death was a big temptation for her.

 

So, having said all that, I want to bring balance which I think is much needed when there is any talk about temptation. It is worth noting that each of these three areas can be good, normal parts of living. 

 

Of course, I can enjoy a chocolate bar. I can buy things needed for personal use and for the household. I can pray for those who are hungry, I can support organisations that feed and clothe those in need. 

 

Of course, it is okay to want to advance in careers and to take on more responsibilities — that was discussed last weekend as our retreat focused on study.

 

And, of course, everyone wants to protect and offer safety to those who need such things. Our hearts are all breaking as we have seen the images from the Ukraine — families without safety and protection.

 

So, this week as I take the first steps into my Lenten journey I will continue to ponder this story. Lent is a time to search my heart  and to think about the balance in my own life. It is also a time of anticipation as I journey towards Easter.

(Photo: Panola Mountain State Park, Georgia —August 2021)

 

 

Stormy Weather

 I love a good storm.

 

There is something quite magical about being safe and warm while watching a storm. Looking out of the windows and seeing the snow swirling and the brilliance of the lightning. I love the sound of a storm too, especially when we are camping and hear the patter of the rain on the camper-van roof. 

 

Last year when we were camping at the beach a sudden summer storm blew up. Of course, the forecast had predicted the event, so I had decided to take a quick walk around the campsite before it arrived. As I was walking back to the van the storm arrived, the power of the wind was amazing. It was a struggle to keep upright I momentarily wondered if I would actually be able to get back to the van. The wind felt as if it might be too strong for me to walk against. Of course, I did manage it and watched the rest of the storm through the window watching the wind and rain lash the campground. The wonderful thing about summer storms on a campground is that the sun soon comes out and people immerge from their campers and tents like ants scurrying about.

 

One thing I have learnt about storms is that I have no control over them. Nothing I can do can change the course of the wind or delay the onset of a storm. I may know it is expected, I may be able to make limited preparation — have I got enough firewood inside? is everything outside secure? or are the snow shovels by each door? — but I can’t stop the storm from happening. I can’t change the course of nature.

 

In the lectionary today, the story is about a sudden storm that blew up (Luke 8:22-25). I can quite imagine the scenario. Jesus and the disciples decided to sail to the opposite shore and “a gale swept down the lake” (23). I can picture this quite well. I have often stood in the park at the end of Cayuga Lake (44 miles long) and watched the storm blowing down the lake. The first noticeable sign is the distant darkening of the sky. It is actually quite an amazing thing to watch it encroaching.

 

Therefore, I’m sure, that as those whose career had been fishing the disciples had experienced sudden storms on the lake many times. But this time there was something different, something more violent, the boat started to take on water and they felt they were in danger.

 

A couple of extraordinary things about this story. The first is that Jesus was asleep. I must confess I almost allow myself a chuckle at this image. I can picture Jesus lying with a few inches of water lapping around his prone body, the force of the waves covering him with spray and the noise of the wind was howling around the boat which was being violently tossed about. I have, on many occasions, been awoken by a storm and never in the circumstances described in this text. So, there was something quite extraordinary, maybe miraculous, about Jesus being able to sleep through it all.

 

The second extraordinary happening was that Jesus could control the storm. This is not humanly possible, storms cannot be controlled. They blow and calm at their own will. I know that people pray when they are in the midst of severe weather — usually for their own protection— but even if the storm misses them, it does not really prevent what is happening. Nature cannot be controlled by humanity. 

 

So, as always, with the stories in the gospels I ask myself why this one was included. I do believe that the writers of the gospels wrote with purpose; that the stories chosen to include were there for a reason.

 

Last week during our study of the historical Jesus, our task was to read the lost Gospel of Q as if we had never read or known anything about Jesus. It was quite a hard thing to do. I had not looked at Q for many years and certainly never tried to read it putting aside all the other sources of information about Jesus.  One thing that really struck me was if the only writing available was Q, it would be hard to see Jesus’ divinity. Q contains a really great collection of the teachings of Jesus, all about how to live but there is nothing of incarnation, death and resurrection.

 

 So, as I read this account in the Gospel of Luke, I noticed how this story was emphasising the divinity of Jesus. Jesus was doing something beyond human capability, Jesus was controlling nature. 

 

When reading scripture, I am always aware there is a balance between the various authors and writings. Each highlighting a different dimension or bringing a new insight. Last time I blogged I talked about the balance between the epistles and the gospels. Today, as I read this little story, I saw a balance between the teaching in Q, the oral tradition which would have been circulating amongst the early followers of Jesus, and the gospel. In both the actions and the ensuing conversation between Jesus and the disciples, the author pf the gospel was highlighting a different aspect of Jesus — the divinity of Jesus.

 

I just want to add briefly that often this story is spiritualised. People talk about life’s storms especially if facing something a little unusual or hard. It is a comforting image to think of Jesus being unperturbed by the storm, even to the point of sleeping through it. Or to imagine Jesus calming or stopping the storm. I think this is another balance. This balance is between looking at the scriptures to seek to understand and study the theology contained therein and to read scripture to allow the verses to speak to current circumstances to bring hope and comfort.  

(Photo — Derwent Water, Lake District, Cumbria)