Good-Bye 2023

The last Sunday in December has arrived — the last Sunday of 2023. We are on the threshold of a new year, as yet untouched and untrodden. New Year’s Eve is simultaneously a time to look back and a time to look forward.

 

Reflecting on the year I am aware of how short and fragile our time on earth is—Andy and I have both lost people we loved this year. Life is our biggest gift and should never be taken for granted.  Our life should be cherished and made to count in whatever way we can do that.

 

I’ve always liked the analogy of life as a journey. The journey may be smooth or have rough spots, have ups and downs, sorrows and joys, but that is all part of our humanness. 

 

In the last couple of days I have already read on social media the sentiment “I can’t wait for 2023 to be over”. That is really sad. It puts the focus on the downs and sorrows of the journey rather than remembering the many joys and blessings. 

 

The short lectionary passage today is the story of the shepherds (Luke 2.15-21) who after a visitation from an angel went to find the new-born child. It is a story that gives little or no detail. The reader is not told whether they were male or female shepherds nor how many of them were present. All the reader is told is that these shepherds made a journey. I have no idea how long it took them or who cared for the sheep in their absence. I suspect it took hours, if not days, to get from the hills where the sheep were grazing to the city where Mary gave birth. 

 

Another consideration for the visitation of the shepherds, especially the male ones, is that Mary after childbirth would be ritually unclean (Lev. 12). Mary would be subject to the usual purification regulations. These lasted for forty days during which Mary would need to remain mostly isolated and untouched, even if people visited and touched her bed, clothing or person they would become unclean for a period and have to perform ritual washings. It makes one wonder about the timing of the shepherds’ journey as visiting before Mary’s purification in temple would be quite a commitment. To go knowingly into the presence of an unclean woman would render them unclean. 

 

I know I have said this before, but I think that the practicality of childbirth is a greatly neglected part of the Christmas story. It is important that the miracle of childbirth and all the pain, blood, water, time and messiness that entails it are not diminished. It is important that what is normally considered women’s experience is not sterilized, side-lined and kept hidden behind a closed stable door. 

 

I also think it is important to highlight Mary’s response to the shepherd’s visit and their telling of “what had been told them about this child (17). Mary “treasured all these things in her heart” (18). 

 

I love that idea, special moments, special joys being treasured in one’s heart. As I thought about it, I can’t number how many times Andy and I have thought about and reminisced about special times in our own lives. They are close to our hearts. These treasures are highlights as we journey through life.

 

So today, as the western world says, “Goodbye 2023”, I encourage all who read this to join me in thinking back to the joys and blessings of the year, to treasure the memories in our hearts. 

 

Then tomorrow, welcome 2024 as a new friend, arms flung wide open in anticipation of embracing all the challenges and joys the new year will bring.

 

 

 

  

 

I’m pondering a great Advent challenge for this week — looking for joy, finding joy, sharing joy. 

 Today is Gaudet Sunday, the mid-point of Advent when the pink candle in the Advent wreath is lit. It represents joy. It stands amongst the purple candles of hope, peace and love as a reminder that even in a season of expectation and preparation joy can burst forth. 

 

Joy often breaks in unexpectedly turning darkness to light. It is a moment, an instance in time, captured by an intensity of well-being and happiness that can only be described of as pure joy. 

 

The readings today encapsulate that feeling of joy. The texts include an extra reading the Magnificat, the outpouring which follows the wonderful meeting of Elisabeth and Mary (Luke 1: 39-56).

 

As Elisabeth hears Mary greet her on arrival, she feels the quickening of her baby. She acknowledges it with those well-known words, “the child in my womb leaped for joy.” This is followed by Mary’s rejoinder, “My spirit rejoices in God my saviour.” (41). It is a moment of joy for both women. Although, the breaking in of joy was a moment in time as the baby danced in the womb, the impact was huge in the lives of both women. It brought forth an outpouring of praise. I’m sure the experience remained with both women for a lifetime.

 

Joy always seems to elicit a response in others. As Mary arrived it evoked a joyous response from Elisabeth, which in turn, brought forth a further response from Mary. Joy seems to bring forth more joy.

 

The second gospel reading today (John 1:6-8, 19-28) jumps to when the fruit of those two pregnancies meet about thirty years later. Mary and Elisabeth obviously shared a close relationship. Therefore, John must have grown up knowing the story of his cousin Jesus’ birth —a cousin only about three or four months younger. I wondered, what must that have felt like? Did John always have that surge of joy that caused him to leap in the womb whenever they met? Or were they just ordinary boys growing into adulthood together. Either way John clearly knows the role assigned to him.

 

John was not the light, merely bearing witness to the light (7). John also clearly stated he was not the Messiah nor a prophet of old (20-21). John knew exactly who he was. John knew his role and the importance of it. John had a voice and used it to proclaim rightness. I think John is a great example for us of how to live. 

 

John looked for joy, found joy and shared joy. I like to think of John standing in the midst of the crowds proclaiming “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness” with his face radiating joy as he heralds events about to begin. 

 

During this third Sunday in Advent, and in the approaching Christmas season, I hope many will look for joy, find joy and share joy. I hope there will be many moments to treasure. I hope the privilege of those experiences will bring deep and lasting enjoyment. It may only be a moment in time, a fleeting happening, yet the memory is precious. Joy came, and because of it, life is a little richer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Journeying through Advent.

So, our journey through Advent begins — a time of preparation which moves us towards an outburst of life and light as the birth of the Christ child draws near. 

 

Our Advent wreath is adorned with four new pink and purple candles representing hope, peace, joy, love and the central white Christ candle. Each ready to be lit in turn, a reminder that the journey through Advent continues.

 

Today we light the first purple candle representing hope. Hope is part of being human, each of us will be hoping for different things depending on personal circumstances. Hope is what keeps us going. I like to think of Advent hope as a bit like the star shining in the darkness, leading the magi onwards. 

 

Today’s lectionary reading paints a metaphorical picture of suffering and hardship (Mark 13: 24-37). A time full of darkness and catastrophe. A time when it seems like the world is ending. As I read the text, I could not help but think of the images coming out of Israel, Gaza and Ukraine — so much destruction. For those on the ground it must feel like they are living this text. 

I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to live amid a war. 

I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have family and friends remaining in those war zones. 

I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have had loved ones killed in the fighting.  

Our hope and prayers are for an end to the violence with peace prevailing.

 

The text does offer the hope of better things to come. The passage uses the illustration of the fig tree putting forth shoots offering the anticipation of summer after the cold (28). The fig tree has used the time of preparation well. 

 

With the offer of hope in this extended metaphor, comes the message to keep awake. Of course, as with the rest of this passage this cannot be taken literally, human beings are created to need sleep for restoration and rejuvenation. But those two words —keep awake — capture the meaning of Advent. Watching and waiting, encompassing the dual themes of waiting for the birth of the Christ child and watching in hope for the future. 

 

Watching and waiting have a quietness about them — a sense of peace yet with an increasing anticipation. I hope this Advent will be a rich and meaningful time for each person reading this. I hope the time of preparation will be well spent. It has a very Celtic feel about it, the year in the Northern Hemisphere beginning in the cold, hidden, underground waiting for the time to burst forth. The beginning of the cycle of life.

 

I hope for each of you this Advent will take on a new, deeper meaning as you journey through these next four weeks.

(Photo — landing in Kennedy airport, December 2023)

 

 

 

An interesting story in the lectionary today. The Pharisees went to Jesus with what they thought was a trick question, is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor? (Matthew 22.15-22). Jesus’ response was to show them a coin and ask whose image was on it.  Their reply was “the emperor’s image”, Jesus suggested that they should give to the emperor what was the emperor’s and to God what was God’s. A clever way out of the conversation and one which could lead us into a great discussion on the separation of church and state which exists in the USA. However, I’ll table that for another day.

 

Today I want to think a little about bias. As I read this story the phrase that really caught my attention was part of the sentence used by the Pharisees when lauding Jesus “…  you do not regard people with partiality” (16). Partiality is usually described as an unfair bias in favour of one thing or person, or as favouritism. 

 

Clearly, not showing partiality was considered an admirable quality. I wondered what they had seen in Jesus to choose that trait.  

 

Was it the way women and children were welcomed and included? 

Was it the way rich and poor alike were ministered to?

 

Recently, I blogged about how a woman showed Jesus that the ministry entrusted to him was open for all not just one group of people.

 

Certainly, this idea of not showing partiality was picked up by the apostle Paul in the letter to the Galatians. “There is neither Jew or Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male or female …” (3.29)

 

This really could become a fascinating debate. From other parts of the scriptures, I could reason that Jesus did show a bias to the poor, those treated unjustly and those hurting. 

 

Was that partiality? 

Or was it a quest for justice, a championing of those who were on the margins?  

At what point does a quest for justice become partiality?

Sometimes the line between the two seems very faint.

 

Of course, a starting point for this discussion would be what is meant by fair as partiality is defined as an unfair bias. It is a conversation I had with a class recently. Fair does not mean just being equal. It is far more nuanced and complex than that.

 

Currently, the world is in a bit of a mess. There are two serious wars being fought and unrest in several other regions. The chasm between right- and left-wing politics seems to be getting wider. Racism, sexism, homophobia, etc. have not been eliminated — sometimes I wonder if this hatred of the other is even gaining in intensity in some places. 

 

 

 I imagine we want to imitate Jesus and show no partiality. Yet biases are formed from the time we were very young — many of them are unseen. They are formed though our upbringing, education, religious traditions, peers, workplaces, the countries or states we were born in and live in . . . the list could go on and on. At what point do these become unfair biases when thinking through situations and events.

 

The real need is to recognize our biases (and I find that keeps happening repeatedly as something is said or seen that brings me face-to-face with yet another bias). 

 

I want to challenge injustices I see. In whatever small way I can, I want to be able to say “this is wrong” without showing partiality.  It is simply wrong because it is wrong!

 

So, from the lectionary this week a lot to muse over — partiality, bias, fairness and injustice — I hope you’ll join me in pondering on them. 

Futility of Violence

The lectionary reading today is another complex parable (Matthew 21:33-46). I have blogged about it before and probably will again in the future — it seems the older I get, the shorter the three-year lectionary cycle seems!

The parable doesn’t make great reading. It is full of violence, hatred, greed, discontentment, disregard for human life and sadness. And with yesterday’s awful attack on Israel I’m sure the futility of violence and the destruction and sadness it brings is in the forefront of many of our prayers. 

The first thing I’m agoing to say about this parable is something many will have heard me say before. It is a drum I keep banging as I think it is important. When reading parables just look for the message being put out there. Resist the temptation to assign roles to the characters. I believe that is always a mistake. If roles are allocated to the various players, then the text often has to be twisted as characteristics that are unfavourable are lauded. 

This particular parable is the story of a person who bought land, fenced it in, built a winepress and a watchtower. After the vineyard was leased to tenants the owner left, probably to continue the business exploits elsewhere. I imagine this was a familiar model to the audience of the time.

Indeed, it is a model that is reflected in contemporary times in big business. Owners have multiple investments, they put managers in to run them and scoop up the profits as a return on their investments. Often with this model of business enormous profits are made while workers toil for a pittance — the lower on the hierarchical chain the workers are the less money is earned. As this parable is explored it is worth thinking through a contemporary example as it helps to ground it. 

Back to the text — in the story when the time of the harvest arrived the landowner sent his slaves to collect the produce. The tenants seized them, stoned them and killed them (35). The story does not reveal why the tenants did not want to turn over the harvest. However it raises a number of questions to which we are given no answer: 

Were they greedy? 

Were they disloyal?

Were they starving or likely to starve through the winter months? 

Were their families starving? 

Did they feel the return on their work was unjust? 

Was the landowner demanding more than agreed?

Why turn on the slaves who were themselves in an unenviable position?

As the story continues a second set of slaves are sent to collect the harvest. The same violent treatment was afforded to them. Finally, the landowner sent their son anticipating (or hoping) that he would be respected. Not so — he also was seized and killed.(39). The landowner would then put the tenants to death and start again with new tenants who hopefully would give them the harvest.

So, I want to return again to why it would be difficult to assign roles in this parable. I have heard the landowner sometimes equated to God. A male God who kept slaves and, possibly, treated the workers unjustly. In addition, God would be portrayed as vengeful thus “putting the wretches to a miserable death” (41). Personally, I don’t think that is an acceptable image of God. Maybe one could argue it is an Old Testament image, but the gospels and epistles have tended to change the image of God from violent to loving, a view which has increased in contemporary times. I don’t want a God whose violent image is affirmed.

Furthermore, roles would then have to be assigned to the tenants, the servants, the son, even the new tenants. The most common interpretation says the tenants are the Sadducees and Pharisees, the servants are the old prophets and the son obviously Jesus. Maybe the new tenants Christians? I would also want to reject this. I dislike the anti-Semitic emphasis it would bring to the text as the tenants killed the slaves and the son. 

So, that leaves me with a story that has no winners, only losers. There is no satisfactory ending. The landowner lost profits, slaves and a son. The slaves and the son lost their lives. The tenants lost their vineyard then their lives. No solution is given in the parable. I don’t have any great interpretation or profound thoughts. Much of it just leaves me feeling it is another unpleasant and disturbing parable. 

I tried reading it from the viewpoint of each of the characters — reading against the grain. As I read it from the tenants’ point of view, I see possible exploitation, injustice, unrest which results in anger and violence in their desire for change. As I read it from the landowner’s point of view, I see also feelings of injustice, of being used, taken for granted, dishonoured, great loss and ultimately wanting to turn to violence. As I read it from the slaves’ point of view, I see victims of a system which disregards their humanity and makes them victims of violence, As I read it from the son’s point of view, I see again injustice and a victim of a parent who cared more for material things than kinship. No winners! 

Perhaps, this is simply a story to illustrate that a time of change was coming. It reflects the unrest and injustices in the society of the day. And change always starts with those who see injustices and are bold enough to stand against them. It has happened with every generation. Hopefully, as this story is read it will show the futility of trying to bring change through violence. With violence there are no winners, only losers.

 

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Generosity for the Win!

Generosity is one of the values of the Lindisfarne community. The lectionary passage today is all about generosity. In the story (Matthew 20:1-16) a landowner goes out to hire workers to work in the vineyard. 

 

In that culture, the process was that people who wanted work gathered in the marketplace. Those requiring workers came and hired them. 

 

Strangely, I can relate. In the village I lived as a teenager we always got “potato-picking” week off school as our autumn half-term. Myself and many other teens worked the week on the farms. Sometimes a job was secured in advance but more often one went and stood at a certain place in the village where the farmers came to pick up teens. I was fortunate, a school friend lived on a farm so I had work with her. It was hard work, a tractor turned the soil and the group of teens followed picking up the potatoes. We did get a break at lunch time where we were fed newly fried chips made from the newly dig potatoes — I can still remember the taste! Then at the end of the day we received our daily pay. 

 

Of, course, it isn’t really the same at all. We worked to get a bit of extra spending money. For the people in today’s story who were subsistence workers, this work meant the difference between life and death. They needed the money paid to survive, to prevent starvation. It put food into the mouths of their children. These workers were amongst the lowest class in their culture. Being hired daily was the only thing that prevented them from becoming beggars.

 

The wonderful landowner in today’s tale visited the market place several times, each time hiring additional workers. The last time was only an hour before the end of the work day which would be governed by daylight hours.

 

As I think about the workers I wonder who was left at the end of the day? I can only surmise that it would be the weaker, possibly infirm people. I assume that when one is choosing workers for physical labor one would look a little at their appearance. Strong, healthy looking people who could do a good day’s work in far from ideal conditions would probably be chosen first. I can imagine those who were left were considered the dregs of society. Yet, they obviously had determination. They wanted to work. There was no other option for them so they waited all day long, hoping for even a little bit of time working.

 

As often happens in the gospels at this point the story twists and subverts. As we are familiar with the stories, often they are read without any surprise, Yet I suspect these same stories would have sent a ripple of shock through the listeners (or later readers) of the time. A gasp of horror, a feeling of disbelief as something outside the norm was advocated.

 

At the end of the day all the workers went to receive their pay. Those who had only worked for the last hour went first and received a full day’s pay. Not the one-twelfth which was probably expected. Imagine their delight, they could feed their families. No one would go hungry that day. What a generous landowner!

 

Each worker in turn received their pay. They all got the same amount. All could eat and survive another day. However, those who had worked a full day grumbled. They thought they should have more. Yet, they had been paid exactly what had been agreed. If they hadn’t seen the generosity of the landowner they would probably have been happy and content with their pay — they weren’t cheated in anyway.

 

 

Yet they became jealous of those others. Being jealous is not a pleasant trait. It leaves one feeling all unsettled and sometimes angry. 

 

It made me ponder lot about the connection between jealousy and generosity. Actually, it is a theme that recurs in a number of gospel stories.  I‘ll be musing on a few questions this week.

 

I wonder —

 

Why could these workers not rejoice that all had enough that day — no one went hungry? 

Why is it often so hard to rejoice in another’s good fortune? 

What does this story say about human nature?

What does the story teach about the connection between generosity and jealousy?

 

 

I know many people who are amazingly generous. I have heard stories about acts of incredible generosity. The lives of generous people reflect their attitude of sharing and caring for others. Generosity is a gift to both the giver and the recipient.

 

Generosity is one of the values reflected in the Lindisfarne community’s understandings. Our understandings are things we aspire to, not those which have already been attained. The introduction to the understandings describes them as “shining, precious gems, winsome, lovely, drawing us out of ourselves . . .” 

 

Understanding number twelve reads:

 

“We are called to a generous, self-giving life. In order for that to happen, we try not to hoard our time, talents, money or gifts; developing the habit of giving things away. In the Lindisfarne Community we encourage members not to be limited by the tithe, but to be expansive in our thinking about generosity; listening to the gentle promptings of the Spirit. We are often surprised how giving God wants us to be.” (New Way of Living )

(Photo: Owl that lives near our house 2023)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Does it Cause Harm?

I read the lectionary text today with a sense of unease (Matthew 18.15-20). Something about it just didn’t feel right. I thought it sounded like a recipe for disaster if taken to an extreme. 

 

One of the words Andy and I use often when teaching childcare and trauma is “harm”. 

What harm has been caused in the past? 

Will this cause more harm in the present?

 

And those questions are not just reserved for childcare teaching but they are much more widespread. Whatever I do, in all my interactions with other people, animal friends or nature I want to check with myself — will this cause harm?

 

As I read though the instructions given in the text, that was the question that came immediately to mind — will this cause harm? Sadly, I decided yes, it could cause harm. Therefore, needs to be viewed with caution.

 

As always, with the scriptures I want to ground the passage in being relevant for today not just a story from the past. So, the question I ask myself would this be a good model of practice for today?

 

The text talks about relationships and how one should behave on seeing a friend doing something considered wrong. The first bit of advice given is “go and point out the fault when alone” (15). Now that advice sounds okay, of course, it depends on relationship with the person. The key word for me is alone.  

 

Next the advice is “take one or two others with you” (v.16). A little trickier in practice especially if the others were unaware of the “fault”. A great deal of care would be needed not to slip into the realm of gossip under the guise of concern. However, there are occasions when care and concern does require sharing with others. So, I can see this advice as a possibility for today.

 

But then the text pushes further, if the small group are unheeded “go to the church”. First, I must ask myself what is meant by “church” in the time this was allegedly spoken — pre-crucifixion and pre-resurrection. Is this perhaps a clue, that these words were put into Jesus’ mouth by the author of the gospel? I’ll leave that discussion for another day. 

 

However, using this bit of the advice in contemporary times is my recipe for disaster! Here’s the suggestion — let’s blazon everyone’s faults all over the “church” Facebook page or shout them out from a pulpit or write a blog about them. Using the question, I’m asking myself, would this cause harm — here my answer is a loud and definite “Yes”.

 

Moving on the final advice in this part of the text is, if announcing the “fault” to everyone doesn’t change them, then treat them as an outcast. Again, this causes harm. This is still a practice today in certain religious groups — I recently read a novel about the practice of shunning as used by the Amish. But it is not restricted to Amish communities. I, and others I know, have been victims of the practice. If the leadership of a group is disagreed with, this is interpreted as a “fault” in the member who then one becomes an outcast! So sad and so harmful. 

 

As always when faced with this sort of dilemma, I resort to thinking about how these unpalatable scriptures are handled.

 

One thing I find helpful is to use the “redemptive movement hermeneutic” a term first coined by William Webb. Very simply it is a way of interpreting scriptures by looking at the history of a practice mentioned in a text thus seeing how it compares with the norm of the time. Webb argues that scriptures consistently point towards a more ethical practice, and this continues to be ongoing. For examples, think of slavery, treatment of women or corporal punishment — where they were, where they are now and how there is still room for improvement. In the interest of not making this too long that is all I’ll say about it here, but I do spend time discussing it in much more detail my book on corporal punishment.

 

So, I find the redemptive movement hermeneutic really helpful when interpreting scriptures — particular those that would be deemed to cause harm in contemporary society. In the same way slavery, women and corporal punishment are shown to be moving towards a better practice, the text today can be viewed that way.

 

In our culture society has moved a long way in the treatment of people. As I read this text, I can hear the underlying concern for others and I can focus on that, but, at the same time, I recognize that that the methods suggested may not be the best as there has been more revelation. There is a much better understanding of trauma and harm and how to treat people who are in need or engaging in things considered problematic — and how to care for them in a loving way. 

This way of viewing the text helps us embrace a gentler, kinder spirituality.

(Photo: Ives Run, PA. August 2023.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An unnamed, history-changing woman!

 An unnamed, history-changing woman!

 

I like the gospel text for today’s lectionary reading (Matthew 15.21-28). It highlights, perhaps, one of the more profound moments in the gospels — an incident captured in just a few short verses that changed the future, indeed it was history-making. 

 

Sadly, the hero of the text remains unnamed. Perhaps, her name has been lost in the annals of time or simply was never even known or considered too insignificant to record. 

 

I think names are really important, they signify a whole person. If anyone mentions the name of my children, daughters-in-law, grandchildren, sisters or friends I immediate can picture them. Not just physically, but as a whole inner person too. Named characters in the scriptures can conjure up a mental image of that person too. The power of using some-one’s name should never be underestimated.

 

Sadly, no name is given to the person in today’s text. She is identified by only two things — her race and her gender. I think that alone is worthy of moments pause to give some serious consideration to — identified only by race and gender. I have to ask myself, how much further have we progressed in the twenty-first century. Are people still identified by race and gender rather than seen simply as a person? 

 

In the text a Canaanite woman (gospel of Mark further identified her as Syrophoenician) came to Jesus to seek healing for her daughter. Initially, she was ignored — “send her away”, cried the disciples. 

 

Still she persisted. Then Jesus emphasized his mission was only to the people of Israel. 

 

Still, she persisted. Jesus’ next response was even harsher, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” 

 

Wow! I often wonder — was she a “dog” because of her race or because of her gender?

 

I have heard and read many attempts to mediate Jesus’ responses. There are suggestions such as Jesus didn’t really mean it or it was only said to test the faith of the woman or bring her to a point of humility. Personally, I don’t like the idea that unpalatable passages are explained away. Sometimes events in the Bible are simply not good and we need to acknowledge, accept and deal with that. I think Jesus’ response here was one of those times. Jesus was focused on his mission to the Jewish people and treated the Syrophoenician woman with contempt.

 

However, this unnamed Syrophoenician woman was not cowed. All her mothering instinct and nurturing came to the fore — this was for a chance for her daughter. So, she challenged the narrowness of the mission. “… even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” 

 

This unnamed person found voice. In doing so something amazing happened.  Her response opened Jesus’ eyes that the message of healing and wholeness was for everyone. Thankfully, Jesus heard and accepted the message.

 

I think God used this unnamed woman to reveal to Jesus that the ministry and message was available for all. Usually, credit for expansion of the ministry to include gentiles is given to a man, Cornelius (Acts 10). I have heard Cornelius’ story called “an event of utmost importance”.  

 

So, in the collective memory of the history of the church credit for opening the door to the gentiles remains at the hands of a named man. And the unnamed woman, who pushed very hard to open that same door, remains uncredited. 

 

Today, I want to remember and honour her for the huge part she played in the history of Christianity. This woman who found her voice, opened the door for the message of inclusion to be heard by future generations. This was a turning point in history — the message became all are welcomed and received. 

(Photo: Trap Pond State Park — June 2023)

 

 

 

 

Walking and Talking Together

  

Two disciples were walking down a road to their home in Emmaus in this popular story (Luke 24.13-35). A longish walk as it was seven miles from Jerusalem where they had lingered for three days after the death of Jesus. As they journeyed a third person joined them and the three engaged in a deeply spiritual conversation. When they arrived home, they urged the stranger to stay the night with them as it was getting late. As bread was broken they realized it was the risen Christ who had joined them.

 

This story has been depicted many times in beautiful works of art. To name just a few of the more famous . . .

 

Duccio (1308)

Caravaggio (1601)

Rembrandt (1648)

Zund (1887)

De Maistre (1958)

 

Although visually different, one thing they all have in common is they were all painted through a patriarchal lens. Each work of art depicts the two disciples who were making the journey as two males. 

 

As always, I want to challenge the popular assumption and read the story against the grain rather than go with the norm. Therefore, I must question why it has been assumed, through the centuries, that these two disciples were men.

 

 Of course, the story tells us that one of them was a man. Not only a man but one who was even named, Cleopas. The other disciple was unnamed. It is often the women in scripture who remain unnamed and invisible. 

 

Sadly, this is not only found the Bible, but women in many spheres have also often remained unnamed. This week I was looking at the life and teaching of Confucius and saw exactly the same thing. Confucius’ father was named in first century book, The Book of the Historian, whilst his mother was unnamed — once again the woman was insignificant and invisible.

 

Returning to the Emmaus Rd, a little bit of study shows us that Cleopas had a wife, Mary (John 19:25).  It is important to note here that Clopas and Cleopas are variations of the same name. Clopas is the Greek form while Cleopas is the Aramaic form. In the same way Paul is the Latin transliteration of the Greek name Saul. The early church father, Eusebius, believed that Cleopas/Clopas was the brother of Joseph, the legal parent of Jesus.

 

So, we are told that Cleopas’ wife, Mary was in Jerusalem. She was named in the gospel of John as one of the women who remained at the foot of the cross. Therefore, it would seem plausible to assume that the couple of disciples walking towards their home in Emmaus were Cleopas and Mary, rather than two men. Otherwise Cleopas would have left his wife behind in Jerusalem! 

 

In my interpretation, it was a married couple who urged Jesus to spend the night at their home. This makes the most sense to me.  It all seems so obvious, yet for centuries the patriarchal mindset has completely overlooked the possibility of a woman. Women can’t really have been significant enough to have had a long walk with the resurrected Christ and offered an invitation to Christ to spend the night at their home. 

 

This story is well worth thinking about in the light of patriarchy. It can serve as a model of how we approach the scriptures. There is a need to recognize that the patriarchy of that time is reflected in the Bible. A patriarchy which has often been picked up whenever the scripture is read. Hence two disciples equal two men. If we approach the readings recognising the inherent patriarchy and looking beyond it there are lots of hidden gems showing the presence and participation of the women of the time.

 

Lindisfarne is an inclusive community. Being aware of patriarchy in our lives, workplace and ministry is a small part of that inclusivism. How we approach and read the scriptures is a key component. If it is to be relevant it is important that we acknowledge the place of women in our spiritual tradition. 

 

As Anne Thurston said, now many years ago,

 

“I have struggled with the attempt to integrate the insights from feminism with the Christian tradition. This struggle continues but with greater assurance that integration is not only possible but necessary for the transformation of the whole church. I believe, however inadequately it has been realised, that Jesus established a radically inclusive community . . . It is not simply a matter of including the voices of women but of creating inclusive community symbolised by an inclusive ministry. The centre is transformed as the context of women’s lives becomes part of the text of revelation.” (Anne Thurston, Because of her Testimony, p.4-5)

 

 Today I want to offer this alternate interpretation of the two disciples on the Emmaus Rd to challenge the status quo. Ultimately, after studying for themselves, some friends reading this may still prefer to accept the more common interpretation —that it was two men journeying and living together maybe a same-sex couple.  That is absolutely fine. 

 

The important thing is to let any text challenge the patriarchal mindset and to enrich beyond the accepted norm. That is the beauty of reading against the grain. 

 

Christ is Risen

Christ is risen

Christ is risen indeed

Happy Easter to everyone reading this.

 

How quickly the seasons change, once again it is time to ponder the Easter events which culminate in the story of resurrection with death being overcome. It is quite a weekend, a rollercoaster ride of being in the deepest despair to the heights of joy. 

 

Yesterday, this emotional ride was constantly at the back of my mind as I pondered what to say about it. Then I unexpectedly read a poem —it was in a novel I was reading — nothing about Easter or death or resurrection, yet it seemed to capture the very depths of suffering and reflect the despair the followers of Jesus would be feeling.

 

Does my twisting body spell out Grace?

I hurt, therefore I am.

Faith, Charity and Hope

are three dead angels

falling like meteors —

(Louise Penny)

 

I spent a while pondering these few lines. I found them quite profound. For those who followed Jesus, the crucifixion was more than just physical death, it was the end, the death of all they had hoped for and had faith in. Everything was shattered. Despair ruled!

 

But things changed (John 20:1-18) — Mary came to the tomb and saw the stone had been removed.(1) The body had been taken, could her sorrow be any deeper? Not even a body to tend and prepare, an important part of both custom and grief. Mary went and told two other disciples who returned with her to check the veracity of her words. They too saw the evidence of the missing body. Perhaps one of the saddest lines summing up their despair is they “returned to their homes”. It was pointless hanging around.

 

Yet, Mary did. Mary stayed by the empty tomb weeping. In the depths of her grief, she peeped into the tomb and saw a vision of two angels. I wonder if at that point a flicker of hope rose in her heart. A little ray of light penetrating the darkness. The angels spoke asking why she wept. Her response was that she did not know where the body of Jesus was. In the text, even at this point Mary’s hope was not of resurrection but of finding the body of the one she loved so she could care for it.  She needed to do that, her last gift to her friend.

 

But as soon as she had spoken, she became aware of a person behind her. I imagine that was all a bit frightening. She did not recognise the person as Jesus. 

 

I think there is something important to grasp here, the physical, the body was completely different, there was nothing recognisable. Everything was changed. The author of the gospel commented that Mary then supposed it was a gardener and asked if they had removed the body. Mary was still thinking about her duty of care, her last outpouring of love. 

 

A word changed everything; a name was spoken. It is a powerful thing to use someone’s name, it denotes relationship and care. It is connection between human beings. I can’t think of a better or more meaningful way uttering this greeting than that single word “Mary”. (15)

 

Immediately recognition followed —what joy, what elation! I can’t imagine what thoughts must have been going through Mary’s head at that moment as grief was replaced with a dawning hope and realization. It was not the end. It was a new beginning. Everything had changed, not just for that instant but for the future. Life had won.

 

And Mary’s response was to go and share the news with the others who loved Jesus so they could find renewed hope and joy. Mary, the apostle to the apostles running to bring the good news — Christ is risen.

Breathing Life into Death

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

A Leap into Lent

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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