tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58723386947639479022024-03-24T18:55:40.065-04:00Musings from the AbbessBlog of Jane Hall Fitz-Gibbon, abbess of the Lindisfarne Community, Ithaca, NY.Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comBlogger218125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-12119904272943032552024-03-17T13:22:00.006-04:002024-03-17T13:22:53.587-04:00I Arise Today Through a Mighty Strength<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZR6pL4lGEqaHep_jL9o9Le0OB1h5-E-FLl-AuGkebfLE-dKkIpfAIBb-jROlCd1WKMHInsvJqXzQx58v0n6t2aMMFG_P7LR99iBsMDmhIy-Q1znZyGypUP5YN1REAMtcJm9D6p4y4Bdb3HUH4Ie1mhBpJCxEmDmhQztrvQCZ7r2dCyI-yi_LIhuGAgsQY/s4896/P1010073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZR6pL4lGEqaHep_jL9o9Le0OB1h5-E-FLl-AuGkebfLE-dKkIpfAIBb-jROlCd1WKMHInsvJqXzQx58v0n6t2aMMFG_P7LR99iBsMDmhIy-Q1znZyGypUP5YN1REAMtcJm9D6p4y4Bdb3HUH4Ie1mhBpJCxEmDmhQztrvQCZ7r2dCyI-yi_LIhuGAgsQY/s320/P1010073.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />I don’t really like flying although it has become part of my life due to being called to live in a foreign country. I experience the strange sensation of “butterflies in my tummy” as the date of departure approaches. Then when I am seated on the aeroplane, I read or say part of St Patrick’s breastplate which begins:<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I arise today<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Through God’s strength to pilot me:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">God’s might to uphold me,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">God’s wisdom to guide me,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">God’s eye to look before me …<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Today, March 17, is the day we remember and, in some cases, celebrate St. Patrick as the patron saint of Ireland. However, Patrick was not Irish but born on the British west coast towards the end of the fourth Century. He hailed from what has been considered an aristocratic family who themselves owned land and had servants. Patrick would have been well-educated, probably in Latin. His education would have included a grounding in Christian faith — indeed his grandfather, Potitus, was a priest. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">When Patrick was sixteen his life changed. He was kidnapped by Irish raiders and taken to Ireland as a slave. He was one of thousands enslaved by the Irish at that time. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Slavery is a horrible practice. It has been pervasive throughout human history, taking various forms across many different cultures and time periods. Historically, slavery has existed in many societies, including ancient civilizations like Egypt, Greece, Rome, and various African realms. It involves the ownership and exploitation of individuals as property. Perhaps one of the most infamous examples is the transatlantic slave trade, which forcibly transported millions of Africans to the Americas between the 16th and 19th centuries.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">While formal slavery has been abolished in most countries, it still persists in modern times. According to the “World Population Review” there are an estimated forty-six million slaves being harboured by 167 countries at this current time. That shocks me — forty-six million slaves in 2024! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Of course, there are efforts to combat contemporary slavery include legal reforms, international treaties, and advocacy campaigns but the high numbers remain.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">St Patrick was enslaved for six years before his escape. In his <i>Confessions</i> Patrick later reflected that he saw this as punishment for his lack of faith and admitted that “<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I did not know the true God.</span>” (<i>Conf.</i> 1). <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">As a slave he was put to work in remote, rural countryside tending flocks. It was in this lonely, isolated place that Patrick turned to God. </span>He says, <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">“<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">More and more the love of God increased, and my sense of awe before God. Faith grew, and my spirit was moved, so that in one day I would pray up to one hundred times, and at night perhaps the same. I even remained in the woods and on the mountain, and I would rise to pray before dawn in snow and ice and rain. I never felt the worse for it, and I never felt lazy – as I realise now, the spirit was burning in me at that time.</span>” (<i>Conf.</i> 16)</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">In the <i>Confessions </i>Patrick also talks about how God revealed to him when to escape. He made a tortuous journey that involved many hardships and re-capture for a short period before finally making it home where he was welcomed by his parents. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Sometime later he received a vision with a call to return to Ireland. “They called out as it were with one voice: “We beg you, holy boy, to come and walk again among us.”</span>” <i>(Conf.</i> 23).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">There followed a time of preparation. I think it is worth noting here that preparation is always necessary for ministry. It is a good principle to follow — call, preparation, ministry.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Details about St. Patrick's specific training to be ordained as a priest are not extensively documented, but it's believed that he underwent religious education and training in Gaul (modern-day France).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">During that time period, it was common for individuals seeking ordination to receive formal theological instruction and spiritual formation from established religious communities. Gaul was known for its Christian presence and had several prominent monastic centers and schools where aspiring clergy could receive training. The duration of training to be ordained as a priest varied depending on the specific circumstances and the individual's educational background. For St. Patrick, who underwent training in Gaul after escaping captivity in Ireland, it's likely that his preparation for ordination spanned several years. This would have included studying under experienced Christian teachers, engaging in theological reading, participating in practical ministry activities, and undergoing spiritual formation. Obviously, it was an important time for St. Patrick who later writes<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">, “<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">I would like to go to Gaul to visit the brothers and to see the faces of the saints of my Lord. God knows what I would dearly like to do.</span>” (<i>Conf. </i>43)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I should add that </span>scholars have studied St. Patrick extensively, but there are still debates and discussions about various aspects of his life and legacy. There is consensus among scholars that St. Patrick was a real historical figure who played a significant role in the spread of Christianity in Ireland. However, the details of his life, including specific dates and events, are sometimes difficult to verify due to limited historical records from that period.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">There are many legends about St Patrick. While not necessarily historically accurate they contribute to the enduring legacy and significance of St. Patrick. One particularly important story is St. Patrick using a shamrock to explain the trinity. He showed that the three leaves of the shamrock are distinct yet part of the same plant — three in one. This symbol is widely used in Christianity. Another legend has St. Patrick driving all the snakes out of Ireland. Clearly a myth as there were no native snakes in Ireland but is usually interpreted spiritually as ridding the country of evil influences.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Although there is no direct evidence to link St Patrick with the adapting of pagan holidays into Christian ones as an influential figure in the Christianisation of Ireland it is likely he contributed to the concept. The process of adapting pagan days to Christian ones was a way for early Christians to give context to their faith within the cultural framework of the communities they went to minister to. For example, the Roman festival of Saturnalia became Christmas. Easter was aligned with the Spring equinox a time associated with fertility and renewal, changing the season so Christians could infuse it with deeper spiritual significance while maintaining continuity with existing cultural observances.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Briefly to conclude, I want to think about what I can learn from St. Patrick. How can I enhance my own spirituality through his life practices? I think for today, I will content myself with just three words — thankfulness, forgiveness, endurance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Thankfulness — Personal prayer and spiritual growth was an integral part of Patrick’s life with that was always thankfulness.<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"> In his own words.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">“I want to give thanks to God without ceasing”.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>(<i>Conf</i> 46) <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">“</span></span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I am greatly in debt to God. He gave me such great grace, that through me, many people should be born again in God and brought to full life”.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>(<i>Conf</i> 38) <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">“</span></span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">So I’ll never stop giving thanks to my God, who kept me faithful in the time of my temptation”.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>(<i>Conf.</i> 34)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Forgiveness — St. Patrick faced numerous challenges throughout his life, particularly during his mission in Ireland, so an important practice to note in his life was forgiveness, extending grace and mercy to others, even in the face of injustice. By forgiving his captors, St. Patrick serves as an example for all, showing that forgiveness is not only a personal act of healing but also a powerful expression of love and compassion towards others, regardless of the harm they may have caused. It is a powerful reminder that through forgiveness, the cycle of violence can be broken, and reconciliation and peace can be found.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Endurance — After his escape and rigorous training, St. Patrick felt called to return to Ireland as a missionary. He faced significant opposition from pagan Druids, tribal leaders, and even some fellow Christians who doubted his mission. St. Patrick endured hostility and persecution from those who opposed his efforts to spread Christianity in Ireland. He faced threats to his personal safety and was subjected to various forms of harassment and persecution. He endured all these hardships while learning the language and customs of the people plus navigating Ireland’s rugged terrain and dispersed population which presented logistical challenges as he traveled throughout the country to preach and establish churches. Throughout St. Patrick remained steadfast. He wrote, <span style="background: white; color: #222222;">“I pray that God give me perseverance, and that he grant me to bear faithful witness to him right up to my passing from this life, for the sake of my God.</span>” (<i>Conf.</i> 58)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I’ll end with a few more words from the breastplate which is attributed to St Patrick.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I arise today<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Through belief in the threeness<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Through confession of the oneness<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Of the creator of creation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-67654864041149880322024-02-25T13:21:00.013-05:002024-02-25T13:33:23.853-05:00The Journey to the Cross<p></p><br /><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXs7GjZDISfZBh9YYdBwYixuEeNdn5TlILtGZYQw5s24HMZxJppQZVLtUJ_cgBivM4BCtsYuFSiE1wbdyDH4HsmJ_4FdK8eHt-6DvcioukxDVkC7gjcpJv-WhNcQH7IaVLmOl_H50Ju8eHEB80igLgL7fubQi3buiFKSyw75aMsWsxeSIixLv_G0uB4i6/s2592/AYV3VF3IE8VWNuvqaSWOZCppld1l.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="1936" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXs7GjZDISfZBh9YYdBwYixuEeNdn5TlILtGZYQw5s24HMZxJppQZVLtUJ_cgBivM4BCtsYuFSiE1wbdyDH4HsmJ_4FdK8eHt-6DvcioukxDVkC7gjcpJv-WhNcQH7IaVLmOl_H50Ju8eHEB80igLgL7fubQi3buiFKSyw75aMsWsxeSIixLv_G0uB4i6/s320/AYV3VF3IE8VWNuvqaSWOZCppld1l.jpeg" width="239" /></a></div>The Gospel of Mark has a unique structure. The first half (1:1 to 8:26) is all about the ministry of Jesus. There is no birth story or childhood tales in Gospel of Mark.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">The gospel opens with the words “The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah …” followed by the appearance of John the Baptizer, who is shown to be a fulfillment of a prophecy by Isaiah (1:2-3). After which the verses are full of miracles, healings and teachings on how to live. The stories come thick and fast, short, concise tales one after the other — blind people see, women and children are healed, multitudes are fed, caring for people supersedes the sabbath, the disciples are sent out to expand the message of Jesus and Jesus’ mission is shown to be for all.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Mark 8: 27 is a turning point as the journey to the cross begins. Peter declares Jesus is the Messiah and from there the journey moves away from Galilee and towards Jerusalem. The focus of the second half has less public ministry and more preparation for what is to come — rejection and death.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">(I should note that sometimes a threefold structure is used, the second pivotal point being in chapter 11 when Jerusalem is arrived at. But personally, I prefer seeing it as two halves.) <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">It is like a mountain the reader climbs for the first 8 chapters which culminates at the summit with sight being restored by Jesus in a twofold process. Firstly, sight is restored but with no clear vision, then after a second touch from Jesus full vision is attained. Ito me, this feels like a prophetic placement of the story which is immediately followed by Peter’s revelation, “You are the Messiah” (8:29). Peter sees something significant. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">And from there is all downhill. It is fitting in this unique structure that the final words of the gospel in the earliest manuscripts are “Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb.” (16:8) In my mountain analogy they had reached the bottom!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">That is just a very brief introduction to the structure of Mark to set the scene for today’s lectionary reading (8:31-38) which took place after Peter’s declaration. Jesus begins the preparation of his followers by talking about suffering and dying. Then Jesus spoke to the crowds and issued a challenge, “if any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (8:35).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">And, as it is Lent, I want to linger here. It is not pleasant to think of the cross and crucifixion. In Western culture we have sanitized the cross — it has become an ornament or a piece of jewelry. Not denying that there is a spiritual significance (indeed we have a community cross) but nevertheless you can go and buy crosses in T. J. Maxx! Crosses are big business thus are readily accessible in many commercial outlets. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">So, one of the things I want to highlight is the impact this phrase would have had on the crowds hearing it. A ripple of shock and horror would have gone through them. In that society the word “cross” was not spoken, it was shameful, it was disgusting. Cicero (106-43 BCE) said that the mere mention or thought of the word cross was unworthy of a Roman citizen or free person. (Cic.Rab.Perd. 5:16) I don’t think there is anyway, in the twenty-first century we can imagine the gasp of horror this phrase used by Jesus would have elicited. I can’t think of any contemporary examples that would have the same impact — occasionally I hear something which causes me to gasp and think that is not okay to say. It might upset me a bit but still not the same impact.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Not only is Jesus uttering a word that should not be uttered but is asking others to embrace. Furthermore, Jesus is stating that the only way to become a follower is to look into the face of something which is shameful and degrading. And that is without considering the physical pain of crucifixion (it is the root of our word excruciating). Jesus is asking a lot of the crowds who follow him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">So, why am I looking into this horrific practice — I have read a lot about crucifixion this week, its history and ongoing practice which continues to present day in rare cases. In Jesus’ time only the cross bar was carried not the full cross. The upright poles remained fixed and were used multiple times. In Roman times it was a punishment mainly for those considered the dregs of society — slaves, disgraced soldiers, foreigners and latterly Christians. (In Roman times Constantine 1 abolished it in 4<sup>th</sup> Century) <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOz4fy77EdKoxws79HU4hYoQcadVyqEyXOtNkXT5LSSx5llGL5qSRdfe7tOTSsW6e9DqShhl_vZhG0r7N69d0VWQjOloV8TjeTzpWCVbU56edeJJfWH563ESO63gq9_V8Ivu3X3wb6UhEbS3rLqGB7sqGI3069vZ6ZoHyGfNP4LwDIiJKsrr4i362wvhVs/s2193/IMG_0182.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2193" data-original-width="1636" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOz4fy77EdKoxws79HU4hYoQcadVyqEyXOtNkXT5LSSx5llGL5qSRdfe7tOTSsW6e9DqShhl_vZhG0r7N69d0VWQjOloV8TjeTzpWCVbU56edeJJfWH563ESO63gq9_V8Ivu3X3wb6UhEbS3rLqGB7sqGI3069vZ6ZoHyGfNP4LwDIiJKsrr4i362wvhVs/s320/IMG_0182.jpeg" width="239" /></a></div>Perhaps, if nothing else it confirms me in my position as a nonviolentist. I am against the death penalty and find none of the four ways of execution currently practiced in USA any less horrific. <o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Yet, it is part of our tradition, so it has to be dealt with. I find the phrase which is oft used “glory in the cross” horrific. There is nothing glorious about the cross and I don’t think the crowds listening to Jesus’ statement would have thought so.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">For me, perhaps, one of the ways to deal with it, is to acknowledge what a low point crucifixion was, truly it is the bottom of the mountain. So, I want to look it in the face and not rush to Easter Sunday even if it leaves me “trembling and bewildered …”. The cross shows the depravity of human nature. It shows that hatred of something or someone different can have disastrous effects. (And that can be seen in contemporary culture). I hope the cross reminds us to be a little kinder, a little more accepting of others and less quick to judgment. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-58563082397946496922024-02-11T14:27:00.002-05:002024-02-11T14:27:39.605-05:00Listen!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkU0asnebpSsEMJ9wxI4fhc9B0s0vdxMBW41B46kCWFrS-9M6JKhEQtza6t_UU5J5Hyqz4QUhlb_L_s9MPwZHU1fPcWTkctSoWm0162raDf2Us5NOZrDbaicMvVNQnzsQmuu6q2W6DVRa3vf_wIb9dfW1ccxcAHP7jFTTkwXV1kIghqDhF7vNhnKiqvnuY/s4896/P1000244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkU0asnebpSsEMJ9wxI4fhc9B0s0vdxMBW41B46kCWFrS-9M6JKhEQtza6t_UU5J5Hyqz4QUhlb_L_s9MPwZHU1fPcWTkctSoWm0162raDf2Us5NOZrDbaicMvVNQnzsQmuu6q2W6DVRa3vf_wIb9dfW1ccxcAHP7jFTTkwXV1kIghqDhF7vNhnKiqvnuY/s320/P1000244.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Transfiguration is the focus of today’s lectionary gospel passage (Mark 9.2-9)</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p>I do think that the authors of each gospel carefully placed the stories they chose to tell to support the particular emphasis of their message. The text today begins with the words “after six days …”. Therefore, I wanted to see the context. What happened six days before this in the Gospel of Mark? </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The preceding chapter begins with a miraculous feeding story, a restoration of sight, Peter’s declaration of Jesus as Messiah, then Jesus began to teach telling them of his death and resurrection. Peter, who had recognised Jesus as Messiah, took Jesus aside and rebuked him for speaking of death and Jesus retorted “Get behind me Satan…” (8.33). What a relief it must have been to Peter a few days later to be chosen to be one of the three disciples to go with Jesus and thus witness the transfiguration! Despite Peter’s interruption, Jesus continued the theme of death and his followers also losing their physical lives, but their souls will be enhanced. Then comes the verse that I think maybe key in the placement of the story of the transfiguration — “some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the realm of God come with power.” (9.1)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Mark’s gospel is a quite early one. There has been much debate on the date. Dates mainly range from 52 CE to 7OCE with a few outriders. (Google it to see the various debates). It is likely that Mark’s Gospel was partially written to Christians to strengthen them in a time of persecution. James (apostle) was martyred in 44 CE and James (brother of Jesus) in 62CE. The persecution under Nero (54-68) intensified in 64CE and continued for another 300 years. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">So, I think it would have been important for the author of Mark to show that some of the disciples saw the realm of God even if it was only a glimpse. A special and memorable occasion that was recorded for all time. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">James, John and Peter were named as being chosen to accompany Jesus up a high mountain. And they watched Jesus transfigure before them. The image I get is that they struggled to find human language to describe fully what they saw — no real word for it “dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.” (3)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Then the disciples saw two other figures with Jesus. Peter impetus as ever — I love the humanness of Peter — jumped in with the suggestion of making three dwellings. A cloud overshadowed them, and a voice spoke “This is my child, the Beloved, listen to them.” (7)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">It is a great story. Did the disciples have a physical experience or was it a mystical one? I have no way of knowing nor do I think it matters. What is important is they had a glimpse of the realm of God that strengthened and encouraged them. A significant event that remained strong enough within the oral tradition that it eventually became part of the cannon of Scripture. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">When I read a text, I always like to find relevance for our spiritual lives today. A couple of things were highlighted for me today. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The first was the experience of a glimpse of the realm of God which the disciples received. I think that happens for many of us on our spiritual journeys. In our Celtic terms it was a thin place, where the distance between humanity and God seems narrower. I have experienced that, and I know others have too. It is not a long-drawn-out experience, but a brief glimpse of something more. A special time, the explanation of which is often beyond human language. A highlight in one’s spiritual journey which remains as something that strengthens and encourages for a long time. Such times are important.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The second thing I noticed was the importance of hearing the teaching of Jesus over their more familiar religion. As I read I became aware that on this occasion the voice didn’t say follow Jesus but simply to listen. Jesus teaching changed a lot of previously held concepts of God. The God revealed by Jesus wasn’t the warrior or tribal God, but a God of love and relationship. The teaching of Jesus was primarily a message of love. So the mandate is listen to Jesus as he teaches on caring for the marginalized people, preferring each other, being peacemakers, etc, etc. It is a message that is found in many ways in lots of different day to-day situations. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">So, for my musings during this week I’m going to reflect with joy on those special times, those thin places when the realm of God felt so close. And I’m going to listen for (and hopefully hear) the voice of Jesus in whatever context and situation it may be found. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-35822587542463048972024-01-14T18:23:00.004-05:002024-01-14T18:25:15.018-05:00Mixed Feelings<p><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1EUGR0xcQz_p8nlV-dOmszr2qM3UJ18Ks66OmY57241ZKB8x7OT6j0ZtPMV3KeMTzcmbJWWXdTviXw2iJznkUQn9Fpq-zpL2ZPQCafS3xzPw1J6HJri8eZEpNLSidg4D-HZ-32Yw9HE-uVxfkrwn1HzXICjueGyMyNzkW8b2IDvbLe8mlvAW5BNBHguIV/s1024/6f352ffd-def9-4008-8e8f-617fcc925e7e.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1EUGR0xcQz_p8nlV-dOmszr2qM3UJ18Ks66OmY57241ZKB8x7OT6j0ZtPMV3KeMTzcmbJWWXdTviXw2iJznkUQn9Fpq-zpL2ZPQCafS3xzPw1J6HJri8eZEpNLSidg4D-HZ-32Yw9HE-uVxfkrwn1HzXICjueGyMyNzkW8b2IDvbLe8mlvAW5BNBHguIV/s320/6f352ffd-def9-4008-8e8f-617fcc925e7e.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;">I always have mixed feelings when I read the texts on the calling of the disciples. Today’s lectionary reading (John 1.43-51) starts after Simon and Andrew have been called to follow Jesus and the text has moved to the story of Philip and Nathanael.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span> </span><span>So, why the mixed feelings?</span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Because the first thing I always notice is that all who Jesus called were men, and that makes me sad. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Could women not be called?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span>Is there something about wom</span><span>en that excludes them from that privilege?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I could try excusing the calling only men with a reference to the culture of the time. It wouldn’t be comely for women to be around men in that close a company in Jewish society. It gives rise to questions like:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Should the men be even talking to the women? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Would that leave them open to gossip and hinder the gospel message? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">What about the time of the month that would render women unclean?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span>Would it be harder for women to leave spouses and children as the men did? </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If this only happened in the first century Palestine, I could accept it as an historical event in a certain cultural context. However, I don’t want to hide this preference for calling men behind a cultural veil. Throughout the centuries, the idea that only men could be called to be disciples has been slow to change. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Even now in 2024, more than two thousand years later, I have only to look at photographs in the media to see gatherings of men. In any important discussion or major event, the photographs usually depict a gathering where the majority are men. It is changing and I do welcome the huge strides forward that have been made nevertheless in some church leadership positions there is often a prominence of men. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span>It saddens me that the women are still often silenced and the gifts and wisdom they could offer ignored.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I would love to think that if Jesus was physically calling disciples today, women would be included. However, I want to be realistic and, sadly, I find it hard to believe that women would be universally welcomed in all callings.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I know personally women who have felt a calling to a certain area of ministry and have met barriers to service for no other reason than they are female. What a loss! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I am glad that in Lindisfarne “gender, sexual orientation, age, race or class are not barriers to service and function. We believe that both men and women are called by G*d to the offices of bishop, priest and deacon. In G*d’s sight we are all equal.” (<i>New Way of Living</i> 255)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, back to mixed feelings — while I feel great sadness at the exclusion of women right at the onset of the gospel; I do think there is something noble about the idea of a calling which I don’t want to ignore. A calling (or vocation) is well worth spending time pondering. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">From the text today, I can gleam that a calling is something that is hard to resist. It seems that those disciples could do no other than follow Jesus. In addition, a calling gives purpose, fulfillment and direction to life. I think a calling is for everyone not just for a few select people. It is really important that each person finds their own calling or vocation. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For most people their calling isn’t going to be as spectacular as the incidences cited in the gospels. It won’t necessarily be grand or thrust one into the limelight. It may be hard. It may be quiet and unseen. A calling always results in service to others in whatever way that is manifest. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lots to muse on in the text this week.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-39967725452059476242023-12-31T16:09:00.001-05:002023-12-31T16:09:10.210-05:00Good-Bye 2023<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9PmZwtBSxICf8XvvxzRQ0fI_TnkJOYArjQR8Q_VQOkJpSWHuLEMf4TUqBpznTQbmZ_DP-K1FNqjvF1nzhTACwFukI1DDv-SCmeaqnaXqQbCbKyr5JqhIXN0c_IRLGzzT1cT7FbaMnXDsolsnQtjgB-xwXJ1k9YF73Cq7xmkbKabf3HLrrhe6EjwumWaY/s4896/P1000457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9PmZwtBSxICf8XvvxzRQ0fI_TnkJOYArjQR8Q_VQOkJpSWHuLEMf4TUqBpznTQbmZ_DP-K1FNqjvF1nzhTACwFukI1DDv-SCmeaqnaXqQbCbKyr5JqhIXN0c_IRLGzzT1cT7FbaMnXDsolsnQtjgB-xwXJ1k9YF73Cq7xmkbKabf3HLrrhe6EjwumWaY/s320/P1000457.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>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.<o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br />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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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). <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span> </p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-71662952404079352582023-12-17T13:31:00.003-05:002023-12-17T13:31:33.726-05:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUKAExvRo6YlnX5PH-Fdbl0hE_JrppYfQ9BzyXtsijPcwSxNyVg7PqAT8WNkqtxFnrcBXzzQNtJ607L3pGrcLHpb2RDe0fdaQygbWLbamuU0puij0aV3ZYLZZAPxvp_9cmXkIBv4WadEZJmSjUkiRv5gq2MBlvYDQsZ_0xW4W5nf9JxGj_9dSjcIzR228/s2592/IMG_1458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1936" data-original-width="2592" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUKAExvRo6YlnX5PH-Fdbl0hE_JrppYfQ9BzyXtsijPcwSxNyVg7PqAT8WNkqtxFnrcBXzzQNtJ607L3pGrcLHpb2RDe0fdaQygbWLbamuU0puij0aV3ZYLZZAPxvp_9cmXkIBv4WadEZJmSjUkiRv5gq2MBlvYDQsZ_0xW4W5nf9JxGj_9dSjcIzR228/s320/IMG_1458.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Times;">I’m pondering a great Advent challenge for this week — </span><span style="font-family: Times;">looking for joy, finding joy, sharing joy. </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p><span style="font-family: Times;">Today is Gaudet Sunday, the mid-point of Advent</span><span style="font-family: Times;"> 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. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. </span><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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).</span><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.</span><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. </span><span style="font-family: Times;">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.</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-46038205276347635562023-12-03T12:58:00.003-05:002023-12-03T12:58:44.554-05:00Journeying through Advent.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij79MF4hejMuFjNagOG9hpMol6V8oCFtUsueGkhA0DK0zSazvkxPyk9-kw6mvz4vs5RDD8yIqwIR_Ya3cHQFOWQdiuUSuYrXRtUBAEUkSo5XGJPpz5hD9Ts3VlS66qKNVWmjm_uda7drNW2_2oe04WjEAKAV71AsioALmIsmDASYcYX2tFfyCy621rRr8R/s4032/IMG_2215.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij79MF4hejMuFjNagOG9hpMol6V8oCFtUsueGkhA0DK0zSazvkxPyk9-kw6mvz4vs5RDD8yIqwIR_Ya3cHQFOWQdiuUSuYrXRtUBAEUkSo5XGJPpz5hD9Ts3VlS66qKNVWmjm_uda7drNW2_2oe04WjEAKAV71AsioALmIsmDASYcYX2tFfyCy621rRr8R/s320/IMG_2215.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">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.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to live amid a war. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have family and friends remaining in those war zones. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have had loved ones killed in the fighting. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Our hope and prayers are for an end to the violence with peace prevailing.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I hope for each of you this Advent will take on a new, deeper meaning as you journey through these next four weeks.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">(Photo — landing in Kennedy airport, December 2023)</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-50120564262094058492023-10-22T19:02:00.004-04:002023-10-22T19:02:53.341-04:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqKe2FlCnSWFiwE_IfRVtlaSWvJvjb-KczVSa4STOL-81foSYVazDm27VDGL1BD_SLMdM14q21WHPK-GAmfsC2Fvp4YOMYKh23rZcjhVgtqExBTVMg9AQEf8tjaXnDjiqOYL3hG_Ra3Q9SqlZNPUWL5A8vO4gL6Lzoz0dGylHKUQhUA2HTu1his_Gbd8uu/s4032/IMG_1970.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqKe2FlCnSWFiwE_IfRVtlaSWvJvjb-KczVSa4STOL-81foSYVazDm27VDGL1BD_SLMdM14q21WHPK-GAmfsC2Fvp4YOMYKh23rZcjhVgtqExBTVMg9AQEf8tjaXnDjiqOYL3hG_Ra3Q9SqlZNPUWL5A8vO4gL6Lzoz0dGylHKUQhUA2HTu1his_Gbd8uu/s320/IMG_1970.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">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.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">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.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Clearly, not showing partiality was considered an admirable quality. I wondered what they had seen in Jesus to choose that trait. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Was it the way women and children were welcomed and included? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Was it the way rich and poor alike were ministered to?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Was that partiality? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Or was it a quest for justice, a championing of those who were on the margins? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">At what point does a quest for justice become partiality?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Sometimes the line between the two seems very faint.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p>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.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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). <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-41292017378729887022023-10-08T18:01:00.000-04:002023-10-08T18:01:45.118-04:00Futility of Violence<p></p><span style="font-family: Times;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNeOo5fSFNwayq6viGPL3WZvM-0GJLeZBPi25SuLwOsxBaASDDQokdvkoxpGt5_jAcLKzJt7bk7UNqbDJQiLXS5FhEQg1WfnXU8yiS_1GqbDdv0j4I5wtjoZ1Mt1_1ghTSRdojLkoJC8UrHgNGL4pxkGOPhqJ8StqP1_K7WLpVYFbW-uf_VtVgkVvUxoP6/s4032/IMG_1912.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNeOo5fSFNwayq6viGPL3WZvM-0GJLeZBPi25SuLwOsxBaASDDQokdvkoxpGt5_jAcLKzJt7bk7UNqbDJQiLXS5FhEQg1WfnXU8yiS_1GqbDdv0j4I5wtjoZ1Mt1_1ghTSRdojLkoJC8UrHgNGL4pxkGOPhqJ8StqP1_K7WLpVYFbW-uf_VtVgkVvUxoP6/s320/IMG_1912.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>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!</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Were they greedy? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Were they disloyal?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Were they starving or likely to starve through the winter months? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Were their families starving? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Did they feel the return on their work was unjust? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Was the landowner demanding more than agreed?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Why turn on the slaves who were themselves in an unenviable position?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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). </span><span style="font-family: Times;">The landowner would then put the tenants to death and start again with new tenants who hopefully would give them the harvest.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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! </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">****************<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-53585668049982352872023-09-24T12:06:00.000-04:002023-09-24T12:06:16.945-04:00Generosity for the Win!<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGCPbaAq6lZ0W4TPNOkPJVt_rmIz5kJQeyZsRlVaNHaSwCE5hFnv-4_PE29Mmn64l-dsLWiRpaiglkFqKhbi_wfUAvExdz0uWYsaglAGVQeS8CeTTACHnm4H4N6z3HBdLuFmt4wDP4x9QPMoN4DWWsZ9AF9t3-vbymm9GQlmY6fh0L03EKTn_4EJ4NS04w/s4896/P1000200.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGCPbaAq6lZ0W4TPNOkPJVt_rmIz5kJQeyZsRlVaNHaSwCE5hFnv-4_PE29Mmn64l-dsLWiRpaiglkFqKhbi_wfUAvExdz0uWYsaglAGVQeS8CeTTACHnm4H4N6z3HBdLuFmt4wDP4x9QPMoN4DWWsZ9AF9t3-vbymm9GQlmY6fh0L03EKTn_4EJ4NS04w/s320/P1000200.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />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.<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Times;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">In that culture, the process was that people who wanted work gathered in the marketplace. Those requiring workers came and hired them. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Yet they became jealous of those others. Being jealous is not a pleasant trait. It leaves one feeling all unsettled and sometimes angry. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I wonder —<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Why could these workers not rejoice that all had enough that day — no one went hungry? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Why is it often so hard to rejoice in another’s good fortune? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">What does this story say about human nature?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">What does the story teach about the connection between generosity and jealousy?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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 . . .” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Understanding number twelve reads:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">“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.” (<i>New Way of Living</i> )<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">(Photo: Owl that lives near our house 2023)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-55420742102780272312023-09-10T15:31:00.003-04:002023-09-10T15:31:35.966-04:00Does it Cause Harm?<p><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5NTRYMmEuyX3Dqg4PaZCBf7FPachsab28k7D9qu37NmmTpMGHi5ebk7f98e3bgp0Zdz8DLGcKhGcFohXRnAgXOovt_9Jvu2ktpFGQ-GD-lkFvZByOxRvBJsBaCvrNdU-Omcve7hXbbACueGW4_Uu0zl4sTK8uhFoDYSDhAJbpXwSFHfHFwRNlPWTJgU5/s4032/IMG_1814.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5NTRYMmEuyX3Dqg4PaZCBf7FPachsab28k7D9qu37NmmTpMGHi5ebk7f98e3bgp0Zdz8DLGcKhGcFohXRnAgXOovt_9Jvu2ktpFGQ-GD-lkFvZByOxRvBJsBaCvrNdU-Omcve7hXbbACueGW4_Uu0zl4sTK8uhFoDYSDhAJbpXwSFHfHFwRNlPWTJgU5/s320/IMG_1814.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>I<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> 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. </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">One of the words Andy and I use often when teaching childcare and trauma is “harm”. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">What harm has been caused in the past? </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Will this cause more harm in the present?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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”.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">As always when faced with this sort of dilemma, I resort to thinking about how these unpalatable scriptures are handled.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">This way of viewing the text helps us embrace a gentler, kinder spirituality.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">(Photo: Ives Run, PA. August 2023.)</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 9pt;"><br /> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 9pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 9pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><div id="AppleMailSignature" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><div class="ApplePlainTextBody"><br /></div><div><br /></div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-17139217824715888652023-08-20T17:39:00.000-04:002023-08-20T17:39:05.937-04:00 An unnamed, history-changing woman!<p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPuGuoJSgiDXz8_-e-eL0sa4SHq3G-H5BzKdPgujqvQxwUrXOMnZO1j4ZFOLCGeuwhw4M-Dh8gqykR30mIPB4T38bpZt2e1TMa41YlWjVfGV8jceksvr01t9lVPN37WH-NeNMlSWlUPQBImr4m93w0RfTFvsTMNFOrSSmnL5jQwDeOKkwTNTDzi0hQZ1n/s4896/P1000435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPuGuoJSgiDXz8_-e-eL0sa4SHq3G-H5BzKdPgujqvQxwUrXOMnZO1j4ZFOLCGeuwhw4M-Dh8gqykR30mIPB4T38bpZt2e1TMa41YlWjVfGV8jceksvr01t9lVPN37WH-NeNMlSWlUPQBImr4m93w0RfTFvsTMNFOrSSmnL5jQwDeOKkwTNTDzi0hQZ1n/s320/P1000435.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /> An unnamed, history-changing woman!</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Still she persisted. Then Jesus emphasized his mission was only to the people of Israel. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Wow! I often wonder — was she a “dog” because of her race or because of her gender?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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”. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">(Photo: Trap Pond State Park — June 2023)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-8033378251196335652023-04-23T12:03:00.000-04:002023-04-23T12:03:12.525-04:00Walking and Talking Together<p> <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilTLsjy_cPCWKC1Fg50eHibY2g-jmoEK1iZjna2N2Sz6HsZy2Lb8vzerkbNjmSizPiF73tAIi_d4zvncSEyJ0e5YL6xmgevUVeHCvK41y9nGrbRrAHt6j97Ho0l5jIFEztGItneMuxgAl5MXTd4B25B-WTAuPTGJOKNjJV-kGduh2U5bPs8Oh7Hb2MNQ/s3840/E9C368AD-B413-4F8A-9E20-EBA3294EFE0D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3840" data-original-width="2160" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilTLsjy_cPCWKC1Fg50eHibY2g-jmoEK1iZjna2N2Sz6HsZy2Lb8vzerkbNjmSizPiF73tAIi_d4zvncSEyJ0e5YL6xmgevUVeHCvK41y9nGrbRrAHt6j97Ho0l5jIFEztGItneMuxgAl5MXTd4B25B-WTAuPTGJOKNjJV-kGduh2U5bPs8Oh7Hb2MNQ/s320/E9C368AD-B413-4F8A-9E20-EBA3294EFE0D.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>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.<o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">This story has been depicted many times in beautiful works of art. To name just a few of the more famous . . .<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Duccio (1308)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Caravaggio (1601)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Rembrandt (1648)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Zund (1887)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">De Maistre (1958)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"> 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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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, <i>The Book of the Historian, </i>whilst his<i> </i>mother was unnamed — once again the woman was insignificant and invisible.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <span style="background-color: white;">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. </span>The early church father, Eusebius, believed that Cleopas/Clopas was the brother of Joseph, the legal parent of Jesus.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">As Anne Thurston said, now many years ago,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">“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)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"> Today <span style="background-color: white;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: white;">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. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-29280623933613299842023-04-09T12:43:00.027-04:002023-04-09T12:48:55.788-04:00Christ is Risen<p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3n7MIW7vfBYgLCkiIujlPUKr_FVtPiypkvvFRhhTfeAGIZCS60uRftO9evwuk96E7aIqEwLrnknXj7uJcLk0gEo5Ymw9Jp4HCLEC_8s2l79S_A6BjxxTnaOifkUwdISedCLGWxeNrg0pGLN4cLf8CLVOmW3PPtsAVhbAGEuG9X9INBGsR4_EdQEYFQ/s2592/IMG_0828-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3n7MIW7vfBYgLCkiIujlPUKr_FVtPiypkvvFRhhTfeAGIZCS60uRftO9evwuk96E7aIqEwLrnknXj7uJcLk0gEo5Ymw9Jp4HCLEC_8s2l79S_A6BjxxTnaOifkUwdISedCLGWxeNrg0pGLN4cLf8CLVOmW3PPtsAVhbAGEuG9X9INBGsR4_EdQEYFQ/s320/IMG_0828-4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Christ is risen</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Christ is risen indeed</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Happy Easter to everyone reading this.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i>Does my twisting body spell out Grace?<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i>I hurt, therefore I am.<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i>Faith, Charity and Hope<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i>are three dead angels<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i>falling like meteors —<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">(Louise Penny)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.</p></div>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-54617416254281179472023-03-26T12:41:00.004-04:002023-03-26T12:41:55.022-04:00Breathing Life into Death<span style="font-family: helvetica;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2zNgpaI3Q6MLMAMrpyHNegcL_5uMMy_Hqinc9f52HmXW5_8NKUsleM0cWdbMLgBIQk8YHioRpj43I77qeSJifGRZY3rhcAyy4dWRXriMgsJi3Zw-hXnXmNr3bbPJJahJhNg2HZtxFZM13MaHZXat8KY3s3YPZ9t9woWaijFfAbtPuc93ClJacgzDWkA/s4032/IMG_3107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2zNgpaI3Q6MLMAMrpyHNegcL_5uMMy_Hqinc9f52HmXW5_8NKUsleM0cWdbMLgBIQk8YHioRpj43I77qeSJifGRZY3rhcAyy4dWRXriMgsJi3Zw-hXnXmNr3bbPJJahJhNg2HZtxFZM13MaHZXat8KY3s3YPZ9t9woWaijFfAbtPuc93ClJacgzDWkA/s320/IMG_3107.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Passiontide begins today, this is reflected in the lectionary readings which begin with death and end with life.<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><br /><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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.</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">But before I do that, I want to highlight a couple of phrases from John which I think are worthy of note.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> “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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p></div>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-10980702114850638812023-02-26T18:13:00.003-05:002023-02-26T18:13:29.945-05:00 A Leap into Lent<p><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1v8HljFTwdMEpqJgau2Zw-iCHttwPrcupJR-hhiE4ObGRKKyCYpfs7L_I6FgVCrt4d2e2OroZFCTlwqQxGJ8D4jObgLzwwilIEEEv7t8f8oA56C_8j2mjv7JeR6O6Hkav5nQxRZIbCK720sTJuFnEhmmNHWi8ybq7xJVZMCyliwJMhUJ2aUDCfd_HhA/s4896/P1000328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1v8HljFTwdMEpqJgau2Zw-iCHttwPrcupJR-hhiE4ObGRKKyCYpfs7L_I6FgVCrt4d2e2OroZFCTlwqQxGJ8D4jObgLzwwilIEEEv7t8f8oA56C_8j2mjv7JeR6O6Hkav5nQxRZIbCK720sTJuFnEhmmNHWi8ybq7xJVZMCyliwJMhUJ2aUDCfd_HhA/s320/P1000328.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>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.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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) <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-2824225903087740062023-02-12T15:44:00.003-05:002023-02-12T15:44:46.090-05:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigLaG6mzfcxDGx3aoO_9aqfyvRQ7R8h82X8mSBsFdxb7ijfnmHMpfGnTF0V2wRufhR-k_LqzjAUbZl9ISXzNqZlQKFr8vV1CbqiuNyYdQY350bDUVvlL-I8XiG2ZRsqir6D5hpAfcNdm8I/s1024/c775318c-191e-4743-a57b-323fb966c854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigLaG6mzfcxDGx3aoO_9aqfyvRQ7R8h82X8mSBsFdxb7ijfnmHMpfGnTF0V2wRufhR-k_LqzjAUbZl9ISXzNqZlQKFr8vV1CbqiuNyYdQY350bDUVvlL-I8XiG2ZRsqir6D5hpAfcNdm8I/s320/c775318c-191e-4743-a57b-323fb966c854.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 15pt;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Don't worry about a thing,</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">'cause every little thing</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">is gonna be alright,” urged Bob Marley in 1977. This was the year our first child was born — can it really be that long ago?</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">The song is still popular today having been re-released by several subsequent artists.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: white;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Eleven years later Bobby McFerrin penned the now famous “Don’t worry, be happy,”. Another well-known favourite, as a bit of trivia, it was the first acapella song to reach number one in the pop charts. The song also won awards at the Grammys<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 15pt;">.</span> The lyrics urge the listener to be happy whatever circumstances befall them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">These two famous songs have been echoing in my head ever since I read the gospel lectionary for this week (Matthew 6. 25-end). They express the same sentiments as the gospel writer — don’t worry about what you are going to wear, what you will eat or what you will drink.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"> Yet, these are not small things, all three are essential to life itself. No-one can survive without food or drink, and in most climates, some kind of clothing to protect the body is essential. So, it is not just a quaint sentiment but a really deep thought. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The rational of the gospel author is that one does not worry about these life sustaining items because God will provide them. It sounds great on first reading but if I am really honest — and when I write these blogs, I strive to be real and honest even if the topic is difficult — it simply doesn’t happen. God does not usually supernaturally provide food. There is only the story of manna in the wilderness and a couple of other tales where that happens. Nothing in contemporary society. Nor is clothing dropped from the heavens! So, I need to think about this gospel passage a little more.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">This week I have been reading about, thinking about and talking about Aristotle’s golden mean and I am using that to try and gain some insight into this text. For those unfamiliar with the golden mean, Aristotle looked at virtues and saw how they fell between two extremes of deficiency and excess — pretty much the same understanding as the mean in mathematics. For example, if courage was the virtue, then the deficiency and excess could be cowardice and recklessness.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">So, in the text’s context worry would be considered the excess so therefore I have been pondering what would be the virtue. I considered many alternatives to see how they would fit and, in the end, landed on ‘care’. If care was the virtue and worry was the excess what would be the deficiency, the other extreme? I spent much time pondering this, several conversations about it with +Andy, and ultimately came down to neglect.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Therefore, care is the virtue, with worry and neglect are the excess and deficiency on either side. As a practical example if a parent was allowing a child play near a river, paddling and skimming rocks. That parent could sit back on a blanket worrying about all the things that could happen, the child could get swept away in the current, the child could fall over and drown in six inches of water, etc. Or the parent could read a book or take a nap and completely neglect the child. Neither is helpful, what the child needs is care, to be able have a fun filled, safe and meaningful experience.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Now, I want to think about this in the context of the gospel. The explicitly stated excess is worry. The gospel writer implores the reader not to worry, stating that worrying will not add even an hour to their lives. But if the deficiency is neglect, somewhere in the middle is care. This fits well with one of the great Godly commands in scripture — love your neighbour as yourself. So, people care for themselves, but more essentially care for each other. If the virtue is care and everyone is caring for each other then all will be clothed and fed. Of course, that would be in a perfect world — but it is still a great aim. Don’t worry about what you will eat, drink or wear, but exercise the virtue of care for others. And back to Aristotle who urges his readers to makes the virtues habitual, so in this context build up the habit of care so it becomes a norm in one’s life rather than the excess of worry or deficit of neglect.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Last night I watched a harrowing news report on that terrible earthquake in Turkey and Syria — the death toll currently surpasses 33,000 and is expected to keep rising. Our prayers continue to go out to the families who have lost loved ones. As I watched the news clip, I saw ordinary people desperately clawing through the rubble in the bid to find survivors. What really stood out to me was that none of them was wearing gloves — how painful it must have been, yet all they were concerned about was finding any survivors. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I’m sure they had some worry (they wouldn’t be human if they didn’t) or even they could have just been glad they survived and walked away neglecting others, but what I saw was care. Care for their community, care for their loved ones, care for friends and care for strangers as they dug through the rubble. Others interviewed, who had homes still standing, had opened their doors even to strangers to provide shelter and care. One person who spoke to the presenter had taken in 30 other families stretching very limited resources. People putting aside the excess of worry and deficit of neglect as they sought to care for others. For me this really illustrated the heart of the gospel.</p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-37911256069659678592023-01-29T15:29:00.002-05:002023-01-29T15:29:14.575-05:00<p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VTeK1DP3wndENTs0JhERYojarzPy2yzZtNMMmXfZSVNV4aqGxc10UkRWEDU0gPJdYZdxOY9weuqizvih5q413hW821qq_LS6dOHbt4WX6PJypoFO38u79-qAFMglaYWLlZip05Vr8O9eat650lMX1Ow8qO7cm3EkIfo2Nz2T3Bg5G4HZm9KgjFC72w/s5184/P1010196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VTeK1DP3wndENTs0JhERYojarzPy2yzZtNMMmXfZSVNV4aqGxc10UkRWEDU0gPJdYZdxOY9weuqizvih5q413hW821qq_LS6dOHbt4WX6PJypoFO38u79-qAFMglaYWLlZip05Vr8O9eat650lMX1Ow8qO7cm3EkIfo2Nz2T3Bg5G4HZm9KgjFC72w/s320/P1010196.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Today’s gospel lectionary reading is a very familiar tale. It’s the story of a wedding (John 2:1-11). I love weddings whether officiating or as a guest. They are always such happy occasions. Wonderful times of joy and celebration, full of hope and expectation as another stage of life is embarked on. </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This marriage was taking place in Cana of Galilee. I have blogged about this wedding on other occasions. I make no apologies for doing so again as I feel this is a key text in the gospels. It is the beginning of Jesus’ journey. It sets the scene. I also think it is particularly important for any starting a journey into the study of feminist theology and the role of women in the scriptures as Mary is a key player in the passage.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The text doesn’t reveal who the wedding was between. However, there are hints that the person getting married was a close relative of Jesus — maybe it was a brother or cousin. I have omitted to include sister as the mother of Jesus was the host so it would be a male relative.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I researched Jewish wedding traditions in New Testament times to see which family would be responsible for providing the feast. It would be the groom’s family. As in most cultures at that time, marriage was merely about ownership and the bride was transferred from being the property of father to the property of husband. In Jewish tradition the betrothment was the bigger event — a decision made together by the fathers of both parties. Money, property and gifts changed hands as, in essence, the groom’s father paid for the bride. This is different from many other traditions where the bride brought a dowry. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">If the couple were already of marriageable age the groom-to-be would then prepare a bridal chamber within their father’s house—this would take about a year or even longer. Even the decision about timing was left in the groom’s father’s hands. The bride would not know the time when the groom returned to get her, hence the tradition of trumpet blowing and shouting to give the potential bride a little notice.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Before the actual ceremony the bride would take part in ritual cleansings. The ceremony would be followed by a feast hosted by the groom’s family. If there was insufficient food or drink provided it would be a shameful thing and damage the family’s reputation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So back to the text, it is not stated who was getting married. However, the text does suggest that Mary was the host. She was the person to whom the servants turned when there was a problem with the wine.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Just as an aside, I want to note that the mother of Jesus remains unnamed in John’s gospel. Sadly, this is common of many of the women. They are designated only by their role in relationship to men rather than as a person with a name.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As a second aside, I want to draw attention to the scale of this wedding of which the mother of Jesus was the host. It was clearly an affluent affair with wine flowing freely and servants and stewards attending the guests. Often, Jesus is depicted as hailing from a poor background. Yet, his father, Joseph, was a craftsperson, a carpenter. Nothing about this passage suggests the poverty background often imagined.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Returning, yet again, to the text. In the story the wine at the wedding ran out. The servants approached the mother of Jesus, who in turn appealed to Jesus. This is one of the clear indications that Joseph had already died. As the eldest son, Jesus would be the head of the household and thus the one to take responsibility for the feast.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I think everyone knows the story, water was converted into wine and guests commented that the best wine was saved until the last. As always when reading this text, what fascinates me is the conversation between Jesus and his mother. It is a significant part of the account and as such would seem to be important.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Jesus is recorded as saying it was no concern of his as “My hour has not yet come.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It is a strange retort, especially given the cultural relevance of the wine running out. But something deeper was going on, the text implies that Jesus knew that his mother was expecting a miraculous intervention. Yet Jesus was reluctant to reveal his true nature at that point even though he had started to gather disciples around him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Quietly and calmly, Jesus’ mother ignored his protestation that it was not his hour and revealed that now was the time. She told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” The water was changed to wine. The ministry was launched!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It is important that the key role of Jesus’ mother is not under-estimated. This woman was given the task of knowing when it was time for Jesus to start his ministry. And, importantly, Jesus submitted to that revelation. So here, right at the beginning of the gospel according to John is established a key role for a woman. I entitled this blog, Mary’s Day. Although the author of John chose not to name her, Mary’s involvement cannot be forgotten or overlooked. Mary who fulfilled the role of birthing the Christ child now unlocks the door for that ministry to burst forth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-50608231636254965632023-01-15T17:54:00.003-05:002023-01-15T17:54:40.633-05:00Restlessness<p><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9CHxAAUVHREUq26jx85JIlztqS5kTP2vf972I7-SocIJ-6Yb-upYpoQVsD5oYDwx6sQxLfTdVFJYs-PrtC7mummOIVt0XPeIv2sp98gaqG71otm_bRcwyMZaa6Jw0VVtYlvltk1rDxjky00Wx_Hg5YAhNFNy4Pe9eQvc1gz2nifCWLEgQMYmBztZsVQ/s5184/P1010176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9CHxAAUVHREUq26jx85JIlztqS5kTP2vf972I7-SocIJ-6Yb-upYpoQVsD5oYDwx6sQxLfTdVFJYs-PrtC7mummOIVt0XPeIv2sp98gaqG71otm_bRcwyMZaa6Jw0VVtYlvltk1rDxjky00Wx_Hg5YAhNFNy4Pe9eQvc1gz2nifCWLEgQMYmBztZsVQ/s320/P1010176.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I’m sure everyone has felt restless from time to time. I often feel restless. It is a weird feeling. I feel that I can’t quite settle, that I am ready for something to happen although usually not sure what that “something” is. <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I think restlessness can be a very good thing. It can be a catalyst to propel one to explore new horizons, an antidote to complacency, a doorway to deeper experience. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">As I read the gospel in the lectionary today, I wondered if Andrew and Simon were restless — ready to move to new adventures. The text is the Johannine account (John 1:29-42) of how these two brothers met Jesus. Unlike the other gospels in the Johannine gospel there is no mention of their occupation. The reader is simply told that Andrew and one other (unnamed by John — so maybe a woman even a partner) were disciples of John the baptizer and were standing with him. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Although, the two were disciples of John, they clearly weren’t settled, maybe experiencing that restlessness that urged them to seek something more. So, when they heard John denote Jesus as the lamb of God, they started to follow Jesus. I wonder if they gave John a backward glance!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The story continues that eventually Jesus turned to the pair and asked them what they were looking for. The pair gave an interesting answer, they asked where Jesus was staying — clearly, in their restlessness they were looking for something settled. Jesus invited them to his home. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The story tells nothing of the conversation they had, simply that they remained together that day. However, whatever was said was sufficient to cause Andrew to go and seek his brother, Simon, to announce that he and the other of John’s disciples had found the anointed one. Simon, too, must have been experiencing that restlessness as he, too, immediately went to see Jesus. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Yet, even having found Jesus, satisfying that restlessness as the story continues throughout the gospels and beyond, I can see in these two brothers continual bouts of restlessness, never falling into complacency but always moving towards whatever is next. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I find it a good pattern for life. Not to be unsettled by restlessness but to be more concerned about complacency. To welcome restlessness as an urging, even a deep yearning, to pursue more. To always be looking for, striving towards and ready for the next new adventure.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-85896099810826635492023-01-01T12:57:00.003-05:002023-01-01T12:57:50.006-05:00And Mary Pondered or Pondering Mary <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAceyIRwmZyXmQNwxbn3A-beuh7Yg_-0jwYm4XwnDfYUuqaEgSA_iaop22koutvrH8J0j4HaXHsVf1dy6ZP93n_9hGvPn7TNI-bUfCg7FONqIJnWVQbLWDSYbp8HjSxASW0d-R6X5sX_wDXG001dUXYBBOE3W5GYcNtNRwDB0WqLGVyVRPIprSedMTfQ/s3872/IMG_0440.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3046" data-original-width="3872" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAceyIRwmZyXmQNwxbn3A-beuh7Yg_-0jwYm4XwnDfYUuqaEgSA_iaop22koutvrH8J0j4HaXHsVf1dy6ZP93n_9hGvPn7TNI-bUfCg7FONqIJnWVQbLWDSYbp8HjSxASW0d-R6X5sX_wDXG001dUXYBBOE3W5GYcNtNRwDB0WqLGVyVRPIprSedMTfQ/s320/IMG_0440.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">The story continues as today heralds the eighth day of Christmas. In the lectionary (Luke 15-21) the story is of the shepherds who, after an angel visitation, journeyed to Bethlehem to greet Mary, Joseph and the child. As they spoke about what they heard concerning the child, the text tells us that “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart”.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I haven’t mused much on Mary and her role in the Christmas story this year, so I want to take this opportunity to do so now. Many of the images of Mary show her gazing lovingly on the newborn Jesus surrounded by shepherds, magi and animals. Indeed, we have a couple of nativity scenes in our home. One is very old, dates back to when our children were small, sadly missing a shepherd or two, much enjoyed and even played with. The other only a few years old, carved from olive wood, handmade in Bethlehem. Both come out each year as a reminder of the story around which we shape our lives.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">So, as I ponder on Mary and the birth, I want to think about the back story. The story of a young girl giving birth in a stable. It all sounds very romantic in the sanitised form we usually read it but I suspect the reality was one of pain, hardship, sweat, tears and not a little fear.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I imagine most people reading this will have some experience of what childbirth entails — either by having given birth themselves, worked in a birthing unit, been present and supporting as a family member or friend gave birth or even simply watched “Call the Midwife.” Childbirth is a miraculous, wonderful event. Also it can be lengthy, painful, accompanied by blood and water and really hard work. It is not called “labour” by accident!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">So, as I want to think deeply about all that Mary endured — it wasn’t really a quick visit from an angel then a chapter later miraculously in a stable with a newborn baby. It involved much more than that, Mary was nine months pregnant when she journeyed to Bethlehem. A journey that it is hard to imagine, involving walking or even riding on a donkey while nine months pregnant, and not even restrooms along the way! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I wonder if labour started en route or after they arrive? Then not even getting a bedroom but giving birth in a stable, not a very sterile environment. Obviously not mentioned in the scriptures but presumably a midwife and/or other women would have assisted and supported her through the birth — a process that takes on average 12-36 hours for a first baby. The women most likely cared for her after the birth too. Men would not be present at a birth or even immediately afterwards— that only started to become possible from the 1970s onwards except in unusual circumstances.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Another consideration when the Christmas story is mused upon is that Mary would be ritually unclean: <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;">‘A woman who becomes pregnant and gives birth to a son will be ceremonially unclean for seven days, just as she is unclean during her monthly period. <b><sup>3 </sup></b>On the eighth day the boy is to be circumcised. <b><sup>4 </sup></b>Then the woman must wait thirty-three days to be purified from her bleeding. She must not touch anything sacred or go to the sanctuary until the days of her purification are over. <b><sup>5 </sup></b>If she gives birth to a daughter, for two weeks the woman will be unclean, as during her period. Then she must wait sixty-six days to be purified from her bleeding.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><sup><span style="font-size: 10pt;">6 </span></sup></b><span style="font-size: 10pt;">“‘When the days of her purification for a son or daughter are over, she is to bring to the priest at the entrance to the tent of meeting a year-old lamb for a burnt offering and a young pigeon or a dove for a sin offering.<sup>[<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Leviticus%2012&version=NIV#fen-NIV-3051a" title="See footnote a"><span style="color: #517e90;">a</span></a>]</sup> <b><sup>7 </sup></b>The priest shall offer them before God to make atonement for her, and then she will be ceremonially clean from her flow of blood. (Leviticus 12)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Mary would be subject to the usual purification regulations. These lasted for forty days during which Mary would need to remain fairly isolated and untouched, even if people visited and touched her bed, clothing or person they would become unclean for a period and have to perform ritual washings. It makes one wonder about the shepherds visiting before Mary’s purification in temple, quite a commitment for them to go knowingly into the presence of an unclean woman. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I have spent time pondering on this, and will continue to do so, as I think it is a neglected part of the Christmas story. It is important that the miracle of childbirth and all that entails is not diminished. It is important that what is normally considered women’s experience is not hidden behind a closed stable door. In the <i>New Way of Living</i> one of the Christmas meditations is from Anne Thurston. I’ll repeat it here:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">“Even when we come to reflect on the birth of Jesus we discover that it has been interpreted as to remove it utterly from the realms of human experience. Yet, the profundity of the phrase “the word was made flesh” lies in the last word “flesh” — become like us.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Much to ponder this week as the depths of the experience of giving birth is revisited as it is once again brought to the forefront of our minds as we continue to welcome the Christ child.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Oh, and as it is New Year’s Day, I wish everyone a happy and fulfilling 2023<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b>The Blessing of the New Year <o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">God, bless to me the new day<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Never vouchsafed to me before<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">It is to bless your own presence<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">You have given me this time, O God<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Bless you to me my eye,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">May my eye bless all it sees;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I will bless my neighbour<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">May my neighbour bless me,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">God give me a clean heart<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Let me not from sight of your eye;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Bless to me my family<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">And bless to me my means and my animals.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">(Garmina Gadelica, 79 amended)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-38111866282889746702022-12-04T14:48:00.001-05:002022-12-04T14:49:50.156-05:00Finding Peace, Making Peace, Celebrating Peace<p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVbqRGTRM6GItdvuFzL6FKwM4WUTL_bg9BG8tLSNW1BciOkA-vWj8JMBd8KaZcpodWY-eKog_hwI2oNZ6iwkqIcQqdTbAJaG0lBOclvYMSNfLBQ63bsyL6VzGjioBl3B4OsnmiOo-ZPW7lbvX-7KXCoAYJE0liy7p4pz1PVoxwU3EnP-bCP-vgoOP8CQ/s1024/8012699f-dfe6-4443-b63f-4105e150fe50.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVbqRGTRM6GItdvuFzL6FKwM4WUTL_bg9BG8tLSNW1BciOkA-vWj8JMBd8KaZcpodWY-eKog_hwI2oNZ6iwkqIcQqdTbAJaG0lBOclvYMSNfLBQ63bsyL6VzGjioBl3B4OsnmiOo-ZPW7lbvX-7KXCoAYJE0liy7p4pz1PVoxwU3EnP-bCP-vgoOP8CQ/s320/8012699f-dfe6-4443-b63f-4105e150fe50.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>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.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p>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). </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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 . . .”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-55469157794186530102022-11-20T12:02:00.003-05:002022-11-20T12:02:22.971-05:00Crucifixion<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvPPyGhAD5ztDgINscUWxYY_vqPug_CrwSMdlWIPI5SWo4I_BRGlEVimLyFtSqU_g151biXziCJXlAxxuQ5Ujzyg4bxQg0bzDUvqpVsQNVvbqSQejTu_mUAQc8QJOJz1Wc3j-EE5nh8R25UCg_RD6TYovYMzrQZSrzZHTUTiBaOl7Nzmbx2l6uxbP1fw/s1024/e4b71c47-3acc-468f-84a0-a5f540a57502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvPPyGhAD5ztDgINscUWxYY_vqPug_CrwSMdlWIPI5SWo4I_BRGlEVimLyFtSqU_g151biXziCJXlAxxuQ5Ujzyg4bxQg0bzDUvqpVsQNVvbqSQejTu_mUAQc8QJOJz1Wc3j-EE5nh8R25UCg_RD6TYovYMzrQZSrzZHTUTiBaOl7Nzmbx2l6uxbP1fw/s320/e4b71c47-3acc-468f-84a0-a5f540a57502.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">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.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-84333609548825640122022-10-23T14:29:00.004-04:002022-10-23T14:29:53.566-04:00<p><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijgHUbR6ajDy_lygwgXWXh4CgCO37Y_L32hM54rqJr9iA76q-N8eqoCLw-HncYwhLbQrf0GffoMJmhkvBgiNr5TZt6TpfEoJH7wU8euSJ2kPtIBeQNjCsktG7iV5jQBpL6WFrUt7L9H8aSp_AjM_6EuWLaIS-b9fsBQKN2sd4qeI6HbEeDIqQUNQmZw/s5184/P1010018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijgHUbR6ajDy_lygwgXWXh4CgCO37Y_L32hM54rqJr9iA76q-N8eqoCLw-HncYwhLbQrf0GffoMJmhkvBgiNr5TZt6TpfEoJH7wU8euSJ2kPtIBeQNjCsktG7iV5jQBpL6WFrUt7L9H8aSp_AjM_6EuWLaIS-b9fsBQKN2sd4qeI6HbEeDIqQUNQmZw/s320/P1010018.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>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?”<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> 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.<o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.” (<i>Revelations of Divine Love</i>)</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">(Photo: Sun catching the autumn trees at Hammond Lake, PA)</p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-43531078452499937292022-10-09T11:55:00.004-04:002022-10-09T11:55:58.605-04:00Healing the Outcast<p><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5txVb4EGweMA9wcEPXW34_Ry3udJsN_6PwMxtaUvqbqK2XReqgtmIRzWxToDwQfDOu9XI4UxvOS9IWoEvc6_KtIT7gVLjOk_TR_TvXPPUWc5tRcYGs8nIozikabPVndTthVOkLUH-VFOA_hH0VTSX14eBUYDNNkAHiXGSJq9tJDgYhA1phpAnx7EFw/s4896/P1000668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5txVb4EGweMA9wcEPXW34_Ry3udJsN_6PwMxtaUvqbqK2XReqgtmIRzWxToDwQfDOu9XI4UxvOS9IWoEvc6_KtIT7gVLjOk_TR_TvXPPUWc5tRcYGs8nIozikabPVndTthVOkLUH-VFOA_hH0VTSX14eBUYDNNkAHiXGSJq9tJDgYhA1phpAnx7EFw/s320/P1000668.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>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.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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). <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The tale continues they were told to go and show themselves to the priests. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">My prayer, Open our eyes, O God.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872338694763947902.post-4717933386293609322022-09-18T18:35:00.002-04:002022-09-18T18:36:58.702-04:00 Shrewd or Dishonest?<p><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzu4xZtJfQtERSg52bmOfOnkAj0x62C0uEQGmGgtvNWBldzTKyyvADPnvVd-9xBWdobtzwKVvgYIEpN29vX2B20QFZCwEjNnwjyxLPIczMtfaaXDaYwBU_Rqvyp3kpshuMMpknLkT9ZwoXjcZZHXvFy4TC82vVofOfPPIlWn8_0i8cclpR2VOUAL1FcQ/s4896/P1000908.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzu4xZtJfQtERSg52bmOfOnkAj0x62C0uEQGmGgtvNWBldzTKyyvADPnvVd-9xBWdobtzwKVvgYIEpN29vX2B20QFZCwEjNnwjyxLPIczMtfaaXDaYwBU_Rqvyp3kpshuMMpknLkT9ZwoXjcZZHXvFy4TC82vVofOfPPIlWn8_0i8cclpR2VOUAL1FcQ/s320/P1000908.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>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.</span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I have blogged about this text before and as I read it again, many of the thoughts I have seem to be similar.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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 “</span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Times;">Do not take interest</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Times;">or any profit from them, but fear your God, so that they may continue to live among you.</span>”</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times;"> The landowners tended to ignore this practice so long as they continued to get wealthy. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Of course, in all these transactions the people who suffered were the exploited tenants and peasant farmers — they were voiceless and powerless. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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) <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I think it is important to see the difference between shrewd and dishonest. Shrewd is defined as </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Times;">having or showing sharp powers of judgment, being astute or being </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Times;">marked by practical hardheaded intelligence</span>. While <span style="font-family: Times;">dishonest is </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Times;">behaving or prone to behave in an untrustworthy or fraudulent way.</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Times;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Times;">The manager is called both</span><span style="font-family: Times;"> — 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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I am going to offer for perusal a couple of thoughts I had while reading the parable.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">In what ways are the poor exploited? </span></p>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781310376419127973noreply@blogger.com