Generosity for the Win!

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

I wonder —

 

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

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

What does this story say about human nature?

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

Understanding number twelve reads:

 

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

(Photo: Owl that lives near our house 2023)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Does it Cause Harm?

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

 

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

What harm has been caused in the past? 

Will this cause more harm in the present?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An unnamed, history-changing woman!

 An unnamed, history-changing woman!

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

(Photo: Trap Pond State Park — June 2023)

 

 

 

 

Walking and Talking Together

  

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

 

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

 

Duccio (1308)

Caravaggio (1601)

Rembrandt (1648)

Zund (1887)

De Maistre (1958)

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

As Anne Thurston said, now many years ago,

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Christ is Risen

Christ is risen

Christ is risen indeed

Happy Easter to everyone reading this.

 

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

 

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

 

Does my twisting body spell out Grace?

I hurt, therefore I am.

Faith, Charity and Hope

are three dead angels

falling like meteors —

(Louise Penny)

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

Breathing Life into Death

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

A Leap into Lent

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

 

Restlessness

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

And Mary Pondered or Pondering Mary

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The Blessing of the New Year 

 

God, bless to me the new day

Never vouchsafed to me before

It is to bless your own presence

You have given me this time, O God

Bless you to me my eye,

May my eye bless all it sees;

I will bless my neighbour

May my neighbour bless me,

God give me a clean heart

Let me not from sight of your eye;

Bless to me my family

And bless to me my means and my animals.

 

(Garmina Gadelica, 79 amended)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding Peace, Making Peace, Celebrating Peace

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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