The Journey to the Cross

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.  The gospel opens with the words “The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah …” followed by the appearance of John the Baptizer, who is shown to be a fulfillment of a prophecy by Isaiah (1:2-3). After which the verses are full of miracles, healings and teachings on how to live. The stories come thick and fast, short, concise tales one after the other — blind people see, women and children are healed, multitudes are fed, caring for people supersedes the sabbath, the disciples are sent out to expand the message of Jesus and Jesus’ mission is shown to be for all. 

 

Mark 8: 27 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.

 

(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.) 

 

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. 

 

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!

 

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).

 

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. 

 

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.

 

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.

 

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^th Century) 

 

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. 

 

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.

 

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. 

 

Listen!

 

Transfiguration is the focus of today’s lectionary gospel passage (Mark 9.2-9) 

 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? 

 

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)

 

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. 

 

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. 

 

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)

 

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)

 

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. 

 

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. 

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.

 

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. 

 

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. 

 

 

 

 

 

Mixed Feelings

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.

 So, why the mixed feelings?  

Because the first thing I always notice is that all who Jesus called were men, and that makes me sad. 

Could women not be called?

Is there something about women that excludes them from that privilege?

 

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:

Should the men be even talking to the women? 

Would that leave them open to gossip and hinder the gospel message? 

What about the time of the month that would render women unclean?

Would it be harder for women to leave spouses and children as the men did? 

 

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. 

 

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. 

 

It saddens me that the women are still often silenced and the gifts and wisdom they could offer ignored.

 

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.

 

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! 

 

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.” (New Way of Living 255)

 

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. 

 

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. 

 

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. 

 

Lots to muse on in the text this week.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Good-Bye 2023

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

  

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

Journeying through Advent.

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

(Photo — landing in Kennedy airport, December 2023)

 

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Was that partiality? 

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

At what point does a quest for justice become partiality?

Sometimes the line between the two seems very faint.

 

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

 

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

Futility of Violence

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were they greedy? 

Were they disloyal?

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

Were their families starving? 

Did they feel the return on their work was unjust? 

Was the landowner demanding more than agreed?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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Generosity for the Win!

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

I wonder —

 

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

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

What does this story say about human nature?

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

Understanding number twelve reads:

 

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

(Photo: Owl that lives near our house 2023)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Does it Cause Harm?

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

 

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

What harm has been caused in the past? 

Will this cause more harm in the present?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An unnamed, history-changing woman!

 An unnamed, history-changing woman!

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

(Photo: Trap Pond State Park — June 2023)