Archive for the ‘Luke’s gospel’ Category

Under the influence

October 22, 2016

Pentecost 23 – 2016

Luke 18:15-30

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who asks that we place our trust in God alone. Amen.

“Under the influence” is an apt description of someone who is an alcoholic. It reflects the reality that their lives are determined by something external to themselves, that they have ceded power over their lives to another. Addiction is like that. It can completely take over a person, often making them utterly unable to think of anything other than the next hit, the next drink, the next bet. Sometimes they are so focused on whatever the perceived benefit of the addiction is, that they are unable to see the effect that their behaviour is having on those around them.

It is only possible an addict to escape the hold of addiction if they recognise it to be a problem. Breaking a habit, giving up substance abuse, takes an enormous act of the will. It means learning to depend on/place one’s trust in someone or something else. “Recovery” will involve will power, grit and determination and the support of others. Some people will never break the habit, they will continue to engage in the destructive behaviour even if it threatens to cost them their jobs, their families and their lives. Nothing else exerts the same power and influence over their lives and in the end, many of them give everything away, because they cannot stop themselves having one more drink, one more bet.

There are of course success stories. Some addicts do realise that they have a problem. They enter rehab programmes, join A.A. and other support groups and they follow the advice that they are given. With appropriate support systems they are able to sever their relationship with their addiction and replace it with relationships that are less destructive and disempowering.

If you have ever known anyone in the grip of addiction, you will know that it is a terrible thing that overcomes all rational thought and decision-making. Whether it be gambling, drugs or alcohol, the addiction takes such a firm grasp that the sufferer can find it almost impossible to break free. They are seemingly able to tolerate their ability to hold a job decline, their health deteriorate and their family fall apart rather than give up whatever it is that has them in its thrall.

Addiction is fairly easily recognised and most of us can feel smug that we have never allowed ourselves to be caught in its grip. In reality though many of us allow all kinds of things to control our lives, some are physical and relatively easy to identify, others are emotional and can disguise themselves in a variety of ways. We can be bound by a need to be in control or by a need for security. It is possible to allow anger, fear, resentment or bitterness to take over our lives, to determine how we live, how we interact with others.

Dependence on anything – drugs, relationships, gambling, wealth – can be limiting and life destroying, (metaphorically and physically). It means ceding control of one’s life to a substance or habit, rather than taking control and making decisions that are life-giving, liberating and empowering. What is more, dependence on substances, activities, possessions or even on our emotional needs for security are a clear sign that our relationship with God is superficial and dependent on much as outward show as it is on a deep and abiding trust in God’s love and care for us.

A first reading of today’s gospel can lead us to think that the story about the ruler is all about money. After all, don’t those who enter the religious life give everything away, didn’t the disciples leave everything to follow Jesus, doesn’t Jesus command the ruler to sell his possessions and to follow him?

It is easy to believe that Jesus’ words to the ruler apply to all of us, but that would be to miss the point. Luke is reporting a conversation between Jesus and one other person. The ruler has come to Jesus with a specific question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

On examination Jesus discovers that the ruler already keeps the commandments – the most obvious way to attain eternal life. Despite this however, the ruler appears to be aware that something is missing from his life and his faith. That is why he has come to Jesus – not to boast in what he is doing, but to discover what it is that he is not doing. Jesus’ reply is specific to the ruler. He has in effect asked what is lacking in his faith and in his life, and Jesus recognises that it is his dependence on his possessions that is keeping him from feeling secure in God’s love, that is filling him with doubts about his worthiness to inherit eternal life. Jesus discerns that the ruler will only be truly free to accept God’s love, if he is to stop trusting in his possessions and to trust in God instead. If in the present he is not sure of God’s love, how will he be able to trust God with eternity?

The problem for the ruler was not so much that he was rich but that he couldn’t imagine life without his wealth, and without his possessions. They had such a hold on him that he could not let go. His desire for eternal life was not so strong that he was able to let that desire determine how he lived. He was so dependent on his possessions that he could not and would not exchange them for dependence on God.

When Jesus orders the ruler “to sell his possessions, give the money to the poor and to come follow him”, Jesus is helping the ruler to identify his dependence on his possessions that prevents him placing his dependence in God.

In response to the gospel there are questions that we can ask ourselves: “Where do we place our trust?” “What are we unwilling to let go?” “What habit, emotion or fear has us in its thrall? And would we give it up for the surpassing power of knowing the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord?”

 

 

Keeping faith with God

October 15, 2016

Pentecost 22 – 2016

Luke 18:1-14

Marian Free

 In the name of God, who is patiently waiting for the world to come to its senses and to allow the kingdom to come on earth. Amen.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I feel as though my prayers fall on deaf ears, or perhaps more accurately that no matter how much or how regularly I pray, the world will still be blighted by greed and the desire for power that leads to oppression, injustice and war. Surely there must be millions of people praying right now for an end to the bombardment of Aleppo – and yet the shelling continues, the hospitals have been destroyed, food has run out and those who are not yet dead are injured and/or starving. Week after week we pray for the leaders of the world, for care for the environment and all for what? The world seems to go on much as before, people selfishly getting on with their own lives, heedless of the cost to others or to the consequences of their actions for future generations.

We pray, but to be honest, sometimes it feels as though we are banging our heads against a brick wall. Does it make any difference? Will the world ever change? Is God listening? Does God even care?

Luke seems to relish complex, confusing parables. Not so long ago we grappled with the parable in which the actions of the dishonest or unjust steward were commended. Today we have another difficult parable. This time God is being compared to an uncaring, obstructionist judge who only responds to injustice when he is at risk of receiving a black eye. What are we to make of such a comparison? Are we being told that God will consistently put off our requests for justice until we are finally able to wear God down? Are we being warned that we are as vulnerable and defenseless as a first century woman who has no one to stand up for her?

It is a shocking thought – an indifferent God, unconcerned with the injustices that plague the world, getting on with goodness knows what while we bang futilely at God’s door.

I suspect however, that none of us really think of God this way and that we simply put this uncomfortable parable to a side (much in the same way that we try not to puzzle too hard over the parable of the dishonest steward. It seems that Luke (or the Jesus of Luke) uses shock intentionally. It is an attempt to get our attention, to make us think a little bit differently and to ensure that we absorb and remember the point that is being made. The parable rewards us with new insights if we take the trouble to unpack it.

In this instance Luke, instead of allowing the parable to speak for itself, gives us an interpretation before the parable begins – it is about persistence in prayer.

In the wider context of the gospel, the parable follows Jesus’ teaching about the coming of the Kingdom. Jesus has just warned the disciples that the kingdom is not coming with signs that can be observed and that when it does come it will come without warning.

This parable then, and the one that follows, are intended to teach the disciples how to pray in the “in-between” time – the time between Jesus and the coming of the kingdom. Remember that Luke is writing sometime between 80 and 100 CE. The Temple has been completely destroyed, the Jews have been forced out of Jerusalem and those who have accepted Jesus as the Christ are experiencing a degree of hardship and ostracism because they no longer belong anywhere. Those who were Jews can no longer associate with their fellow Jews and those who of Gentile origin have likewise set themselves apart from their neighbours. It is not a comfortable or easy time to be someone who believes that Jesus is the Christ.

The world, instead of being dramatically changed by the death and resurrection of Jesus, continues much as it did before – perhaps worse for those who have chosen to follow Jesus. What are they to make of this? Surely the world be a better place as a consequence of Jesus’ death and resurrection.

Today’s parable then, is intended to help believers make sense of the present, to pray in the face of apparent inaction on God’s part and to retain their faith despite the fact that nothing seems to have changed.

So back to the widow. Widows, as I am sure you recall were the most vulnerable members of first century society. Without a male family member to support them or to speak for them, they were thrown on the mercy and charity of those around them. At the same time they were, after orphans, the ones to whom most care and compassion was meant to be extended. It is the judge’s responsibility to take a widow’s concerns seriously, to give her needs priority over those of others. His disinterest in her case serves to highlight his callousness. It is only when he becomes afraid that the widow will give him a black eye that he relents. He doesn’t want to lose face in front of everyone.

Jesus suggests that if someone as base as the judge responds to the widow’s plea, how much more will a just and compassionate God respond to us if we continue to have faith that God is listening and if, despite evidence to the contrary, we remain confident that God is active in the world, working to establish God’s kingdom.

So rather than comparing God to an unresponsive judge, who will only act when his honour is threatened, the parable encourages us to be confident that God will respond if we persist with our pursuit for justice and peace in the world. Even if it appears that nothing is happening, we are to go on praying, believing that God is acting in the world to bring about justice and peace.

In this time – the “in between” time, we are called to keep faith with God as God keeps faith with us, believing that humanity is capable of better things, convinced that humanity is indeed worth saving, and confident that no matter how selfish, unjust and hateful we are, that God will never ever abandon us, but will keep on hoping that we, with God, will continue to work and pray for peace and justice until at last God’s kingdom is established on the earth.

 

 

More to it than meets the eye

October 8, 2016

Pentecost 21 – 2016

Luke 17:11-19

http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=342912842

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who opens our eyes to a world that could be. Amen.

Today through the internet, mobile phones, social media we have access to world events 24/7. On many occasions we learn of events as they take place and not after the journalists have had time to write and file their reports. It is possible to see earthquakes almost at the same time as they are happening, videos of the shooting of black men in America come to our phones in vivid detail, as do the effect of violence against rioters in Egypt and in other places that are experiencing civil unrest. Even without our tablets and phones, our newspapers and television stations are able to give us details on Hurricanes almost as they happen. We appear to know more than we have ever known but at the same time because we only receive “sound-bites” on our devices or even in the regular media, we really only ever know what other people tell us, what they want us to see and hear and very often our understanding is determined by the way the information is interpreted, rather than hearing both sides in a dispassionate way and being allowed to form our own opinions.

Newspapers have to sell, TV stations need to attract viewers so as often as not it is the more sensational news that reaches us. What we see and hear is always selected for us and few of us go to the trouble of looking further to discover the background to the story, what led up to the events that are being reported, what really took place and who, if anyone really is to blame.

So often we see only what we want to see. We pass judgement before we have all the facts at our disposal and we form opinions on what other – sometimes biased – people tell us. Too many times we fail to look beyond the obvious, contenting ourselves with the superficial – not willing or not interested enough to look deeper.

The same, dare I say it, is as true of the way we sometimes approach the bible. Take this morning’s gospel for example. I am sure that you, like I, hear the account of Jesus’ healing the ten lepers and think to ourselves: “We know what this is about. It is about gratitude. In particular it is about the ingratitude of the nine who were Jews and the gratitude of the tenth – the outsider.” That is all well and good, and there is no real problem is we are content with that way of seeing and understanding the text. But if we go to the trouble of examining this simple story in more detail we will discover that it has much more to reveal than a superficial reading would have us believe.[1]

For example, were we to place these verses in the context of the whole gospel we would see among other things that this is Luke’s fourth reference to Jesus’ healing of lepers (Luke 4:27, 5:12-14, 7:22). If we were able to do a word search we would discover that Jesus’ final words to the Samaritan “get up and go” are the same words used when Mary “gets up and goes” to Elizabeth and the Prodigal “gets up and goes” home. A careful study of Luke’s presentation of Jesus’ life would reveal that it begins and ends with people glorifying Jesus (2:20 – the shepherds, 23:47 – the centurion). In fact, we would discover so much about the text that we would see it in a completely new and more sophisticated light.

Comparing the story to the account of the healing of Namaan the Syrian,

Dennis Hamm SJ suggests that this is not so much a story about healing and thankfulness, as it is about “discerning the presence of God”[2]. Namaan whose leprosy is healed when he deigns to dip in the insignificant waters of the Jordan comes to realise that the God of Israel is the God of all the world. His eyes are opened to a new and radically different truth[3].

In today’s gospel we are told that Jesus is “along the borders of Samaria and Galilee” – a reminder that Jesus meets people at the boundaries but also a geographical clue. When Jesus tells the lepers to present themselves to the priests they must go south – to Jerusalem. Ordered by Jesus, all men set off in a southerly direction. All are healed, but of the ten, it is the Samaritan (Hamm suggests) who is faced with a dilemma. Surely, when Jesus suggests showing himself to the priests he means the Temple in Jerusalem. Here however, the Samaritan will not be welcome. He will face another boundary, one that confines him to the Court of the Gentiles. Should he instead go to Gerizim – the place where the Samaritan priests are and the place that they believe is where God’s presence is mediated?

Here, “along the borders”, in a place of uncertainty, the Samaritan suddenly sees clearly. God is not to be found either in Jerusalem or in Gerizim but in the person of Jesus. He returns to give “thanks” – but this is no ordinary gratitude. The Greek word “euchariston” is the word we used for our Eucharist. In the Greek Bible it is used only for “thanks and praise to God”. The Samaritan has come to the realisation that Jesus is both the place where the sacred is to be found and also the one to whom thanks and praise are to be offered.

Now it all becomes clear. The Samaritan does not receive praise for saying “thank you”, but for his insight into the nature of Jesus and for giving glory to God through the person of Jesus. (“The other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?”) The Samaritan, the outsider is not bound by the same traditions and influences of the Jews. This has freed him to see below the surface and to discern that Jesus is no ordinary man, but is in fact God incarnate.

The account of the ten lepers is less about gratitude, than it is about recognising God in unexpected places and in surprising people. Sometimes we only see what we want to see, hear what we want to hear. The tenth leper, the Samaritan challenges us to be open to other possibilities, to look beyond the obvious, to seek out more information and to discover God in people and places we cannot even begin to imagine.

 

[1] A useful site for getting to know the Sunday readings better it that of the St Louis University http://liturgy.slu.edu/28OrdC100916/theword.html

 

[2] See the liturgy.slu.edu. website for October 9, or Hamm’s article “”What the Samaritan Sees: The Narrative Christology of Luke 17:11-19.” Catholic Biblical Quarterly, 56.2 (1994) 273-87.

[3] (He is so taken with this idea that he wants to take home as much of the land of Israel as he possibly can (2 Kings 5:14-17).

God doesn’t owe us anything

October 1, 2016

Pentecost 20 – 2016

Luke 17:(1-4) 5-10

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whom we are pleased to serve. Amen.

An irrelevant piece of information: I am a Queen’s Guide. What that means is that I conscientiously fulfilled a number of requirements that enabled me to demonstrate that I had skills in a number of areas including cooking, camping, orienteering, sewing, collecting and so on. Over a number of years I earned badges of sufficient variety and quantity that I was deemed to have passed the requirements to receive the highest award in the guiding movement. It took a great deal of effort and though it barely matters now, I was glad to have my hard work recognised. Gaining the award was celebrated with a huge campfire, lots of singing, a special name and a certain amount of ceremony.

There are many things that we do with an expectation that we will be rewarded. Whether it is our school or university results, promotions at work, the success of our children or sporting prowess there is usually some sort of scale that tells us how well we have done, particularly how well we have done in comparison to others. So we get grades for our academic work, pay rises for promotions; we glow in our children’s reflected glory and accept medals or trophies for sporting success. When we have studied, worked or trained hard, it feels good to be rewarded for the effort we have expended.

Yet, even in this society which values and rewards success and achievement, there are still many who do things without any thought of reward. For example, the homicide detectives who put their personal lives on hold as they work tirelessly to ensure that a killer is found and a family is given some sort of answers in the face of awful tragedy[1]. They at least sometimes get thanked or commended for their sacrifices. There are however, literally hundreds and thousands of carers who look after an elderly or sick parent or spouse or who spend a lifetime caring for a child with a disability. These, the most draining and most demanding of tasks come with little to no recognition and yet those doing the caring mostly do so selflessly and lovingly – their only reward the knowledge that their parent, spouse or child is receiving the very best care that they can give.

Today’s gospel combines a number of Jesus’ sayings, that don’t necessarily seem to fit together until we remember that it is during Jesus journey to Jerusalem that he instructs his disciples. From the time that Jesus “set his face to Jerusalem” (9:51) we have been confronted with a number of difficult sayings about discipleship – “let the dead bury the dead”, “no one who doesn’t not hate mother or father is not fit to be a disciple”, “take the lower seat”, “take up your cross” and so on. Jesus knows what awaits him in Jerusalem and he does not want his disciples to be naïve about the cost of following him – a journey that leads to the cross.

It is in this context that we have to look at this morning’s collection of sayings.

Jesus has recently told the complex parable of the dishonest steward and the challenging parable about the rich man and Lazarus. Now, as if Jesus hasn’t made enough demands, he warns the disciples against being the cause of someone else’s failures and insists that if someone offends them they are to forgive seven times each day!

No wonder the disciples respond by asking Jesus to increase their faith! What Jesus is asking of them must seem to be impossible – they are going to need all the help they can get.

As we have heard, Jesus’ response is two-fold. In the first instance they don’t need any more faith than they have. Even their small amount of faith is sufficient to achieve the impossible and even the improbable. What faith the disciples do have comes from God and God who gives them faith can use that faith if only they take the risk of faith and allow God’s power to work through them.

Secondly, Jesus reminds the disciples that it is important that they do not exercise their role in the believing community with the hope of reward. Serving God and serving each other should be its own reward[2]. In other words, the disciples and now ourselves live out our discipleship faithfully as our response to God’s presence in our lives, not because we are looking over our shoulder and hoping that God will to tap us on our shoulder and say “well done”.

The story of the slave and master is a reminder to them and to us that we cannot earn our own salvation. As Tom Wright puts it: “We cannot put God in our debt”[3]. The story is a warning against the temptation to try to build up credit points for ourselves, to rely on our own efforts rather than on what God has done for us, to create a superficial image of goodness and obedience, or to arrogantly think that we are as able as God to pass judgement on our own behaviour. In other words, if we serve God only for what we think we can get out of that service, then we have misunderstood.

Everything we have we have from God, including our faith. As disciples we serve God willingly and happily, not reluctantly or ungraciously. We serve God not with any thought of what we will get in return, but in joyful gratitude for what we already have.

Faith is not a duty or a burden, but a privilege and a gift. Surely that is sufficient reward for what little we may do in return.

[1] A detective who worked on the Jill Meagher case wiped away tears as he reported that over the years he had missed his children’s birthdays including his daughter’s 21st.

[2] We do not have to be uncomfortable about the image of slavery. Slavery was so commonplace in Jesus’ time that the original hearers would not have taken any offense in thinking of themselves as “worthless slaves”.

[3] N.T. Wright. Luke for Everyone. Great Britain: SPCK, 2002, 204.

One person at a time

September 24, 2016

Pentecost 19 – 2016

Luke 16:19-31 (Some thoughts)

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, who asks us to join with God in creating a world in which all have access to the resources that will allow them to live a full and happy life. Amen.

Thanks to modern media and the speed of the internet, few of us can avoid being bombarded by graphic images and descriptions of the plight of refugees, victims of war and natural disaster, women whose babies lie dying beside them, children who have been forced to become soldiers, men forced into dangerous and often demeaning labor just to feed themselves and their dependents. In the past week some of us will have seen the appalling pictures of Holocaust victims living in squalor in Poland because they are too afraid to repeat the trauma of forced resettlement and there are not sufficient funds to provide the home support and nursing care that would give them a dignified and comfortable old age and death.

A consequence of this level of exposure is that many of us suffer from compassion fatigue – there is only so much suffering we can absorb. Alternatively we are overtaken by feelings of helplessness – in the face of so much despair we wonder what can we do to make a real and lasting difference. Photos of a child washed up on a beach or of a vulture waiting for a child to die fill us with anguish, but it is impossible to work out what one person can do to stop the fighting in Syria, to provide relief to those living in drought stricken Sudan.

The number of aid agencies and the worry that a large percentage of donations are spent on administration further complicates the issue. Sometimes it seems that the solution is to do nothing and hope that world leaders will somehow work out solutions to war, terror, poverty and natural disaster.

In the meantime suffering and disadvantage continue not only on the world stage, but also on our own doorsteps. On Wednesday I had the privilege of hearing Debbie Kilroy – the founder and executive director of Sisters Inside – deliver the United Nations Brisbane Peace Lecture. Debbie’s own experience of prison made her a powerful, passionate and informed speaker. She reminded us that, though Aboriginal and Torres Straight Islander women make up only 3% of our population, they make up more than 50% of the prison population. Most come from situations of extreme disadvantage and enter the criminal system from a very young age. Once they have come to the attention of the law, they find it difficult to access the support that would ensure that they escape the cycle of poverty, violence and abuse that has brought them to their present situation.

Sisters Inside “has an enormous range of programmes that support women get through every conceivable barrier that the world throws at them, and to tell them that they’re worth it, they’re good, and we love them. They have programmes that include: housing support, sexual and DV & FV counseling, reunification of mothers and children, mental health support and life skills, youth work and pre and post release support”[1].

Obviously Sisters Inside does amazing work, but Debbie’s challenge to the audience was not: “go and help an ex-prisoner rehabilitate”, “donate to Sisters Inside” or “become a volunteer” but “find someone in your neighbourhood who is marginalised and disadvantaged and walk beside them”.

In so doing, Debbie made solving the problem manageable, achievable.

No one can solve all the problems of the world, but we can change the world around us by making a difference in the life of just one person.

The parable about Lazarus and the rich man is often seen and used as a critique of wealth, but if you break it down it is a reflection on just two men – Lazarus and a certain man who is rich. It is impossible to imagine that the rich man is oblivious to the plight of Lazarus. Apart from anything else, when he is in Hades the rich man recognises Lazarus and calls him by name. The rich man knows exactly who Lazarus is yet during his life he has done nothing to alleviate Lazarus’ distress.

In life as in death, a great gulf existed between the two men and the one who was in a position to do something did nothing. The parable gives us no hint that there was an expectation that the rich man should have solved all the problems in the world or even that he should have given away all his wealth. There was one person in his life whose plight he could have alleviated and he chose to ignore his responsibility of care.

Unfortunately we can’t solve all the problems in the world, but we can ease the burdens of at least one person in our life or in our neighbourhood. We can, in the course of our lives, make a difference in the lives of many, if we take action where we see it is needed and if we only bite off as much as we can chew.

So stop wasting time worrying about what you can’t do and start thinking about what you can do. Open your eyes to the people around your and in front of you. Build bridges across the gulf that separates you from the marginalised, the disadvantaged and the excluded. Stand beside one person in solidarity and support and start changing the world one person at a time.

 

 

 

 

[1] Check out the website: http://www.sistersinside.com.au

A win/win situation

September 17, 2016

Pentecost 18 – 2016

Luke 16:1-8

Marian Free

Dramatisation of the parable (Written by Juliet Quinlan)

The characters: Mr/Mrs Rich (R), owner of a chain of stores; (K) Kath/Kevin, supervisor of one of R’s stores.

 Part 1

R: Good morning K. Please sit down.

K: Good morning.

(Both sit down – two chairs facing each other at the front of the sanctuary.)

R: I’ll get straight to the point, K. This is the third time in three months I’ve had to call you in to my office to tell you that your performance isn’t what I’d expect from one of my store supervisors. There have been complaints from customers that you’re offhand with them, you’ve closed early on several occasions, the takings from your store are down…

K: (Shrugs) I’m sorry, I promise I’ll do better.

R: No, K, that’s not good enough. I’m very reluctant to do this, but I’m going to have to let you go. I’m losing money, and even worse, my reputation is being squandered. I’m willing to give you a month’s notice, but please try to leave the store in good shape. (Both stand up. R shakes K’s hand, looks sympathetic).

(K and R both exit.)

Part two

(K sits alone OR addresses the congregation.)

K: What am I going to do? I know I haven’t been efficient like I used to be. I’ve just got so bored with this place, that’s the problem. My heart hasn’t been in it. But how can I live now? I don’t want to be on the dole for the rest of my life. I need some inspiration…(Frowns, shakes head, looks anguished. Then straightens up, eyes wide open): OK, I’m beginning to get an idea…

Part three

(R beckons K into the office again. They remain standing. Would it be better if K presents herself to the office as it’s her last day?)

R: So this is your last day, K. I wonder why you’re looking so happy.

K: Oh well…

R: I know why you’re pleased with yourself. The accountant picked up an anomaly for this store. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?

(K shrugs shoulders)

R: For the last month the cash you’ve banked has been around half the amount the cash register says it should be. Can you explain how this could have happened?

K: I took the money.

R: So you thought it’d be smart to give yourself a bonus, did you?

K: No, I gave it all to charity.

R: Why? What was the point of that?

K: I told the Coordinator of my favourite charity that you wanted to make a large donation, and made an appointment to hand it over. We got talking and I told her how I’d love to help, and some ideas I have, and now they’ve agreed for me to work for them as a volunteer. Perhaps I might get paid work there eventually. And it’s something I’ll really like doing, something fulfilling for the rest of my life…

R: But it was my money.

K: Well you’ve sometimes said money isn’t everything, that your main goal is to make your customers happy. I know how concerned you are about the company’s public image and I’ve heard you give quite a lot away yourself.

R (stops, thinks, then starts to laugh): Well, I must say I’m amazed. You’ve been really clever. You’ve made me look good in the eyes of your charity, and made a positive plan for your future. Good luck to you! (Smiles, claps K on the shoulder, shakes hands). Off you go. And I hope the future gives you all that you hope for.

(Both exit)

 

Reading of Gospel: Luke 16:1-8

Then Jesus said to the disciples, “There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. 2 So he summoned him and said to him, ‘What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.’ 3 Then the manager said to himself, ‘What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. 4 I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.’ 5 So, summoning his master’s debtors one by one, he asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ 6 He answered, ‘A hundred jugs of olive oil.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.’ 7 Then he asked another, ‘And how much do you owe?’ He replied, ‘A hundred containers of wheat.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill and make it eighty.’ 8 And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly;

 ***********************

 

 

God of love, give us an openness to your word and a willingness to understand those things that challenge and confront us. Amen.

Today’s parable is one of (if not the) hardest of Jesus’ parables to come to grips with. We are able to accept most of Jesus’ eccentricities and teaching that demands us to welcome the marginalised and love the unlovable and even to forgive the unforgiveable – but for Jesus to commend dishonesty or injustice – that goes beyond the pale of good, respectable Christians.

The problem is that it is almost impossible for us to make sense of today’s parable unless we take ourselves back to the first century and to the culture of the time. In particular, we have to understand that honour and shame determined how society functioned and how people related to each other. Having honour took precedence over the desire for wealth, or love of friend and family. Everyone knew their place and everyone was concerned to maintain their position within the community. One way to retain or to increase honour was through generosity.

In previous stories Jesus subverted these values of honour and shame– “take the lower seat”, “invite those who can’t pay you back”, “welcome home the son who has shamed and disgraced you”. Now he tells a story that plays right into the hands of those who hold those values he uses the concepts of honour and shame to his advantage.

Another characteristic of first century society was a failure to plan for the future. Most people lived day-by-day, not considering how they might fare either in the earthly future and certainly not thinking about their eternal future.

A steward had a great deal of authority. Very often the landowner lived elsewhere, so the steward had the responsibility for the day-to-day running of the property. Whether a slave or a free man, a steward could make decision about loans and interest rates, make sales, forgive or pay off debts. He earned his living by commission and had a relatively high status in the community.

As well as trying to understand the first century Mediterranean culture, we have to remember that this is a story, a parable. It did not happen in real life. It is a story pure and simple. That means that it doesn’t have to be entirely logical, or that it has to provide all the detail[1]. Jesus is using this parable to make a point or to shock his hearers into a new way of understand. It is more important to look for the meaning behind the story rather than try to force the story make absolute sense.

We also have to determine where the parable begins and ends. Unless we are clear about this we will not know whether it is Jesus who commends the steward for his shrewd behaviour or the master who praises him. Does Jesus commend dishonesty or is it the master in the story who commends the steward?

Lastly we have to ignore the heading that bible translators have added to the in order to let the parable speak for itself. Most bibles give this section a title like “the unjust or dishonest steward” which leads to the assumption that the character of the steward is dishonest, whereas that label is only applied to the steward at the conclusion of the story. There is no evidence to suggest that the steward is inherently dishonest or that he has behaved dishonestly in the past.

So with all that in mind, let’s look at the parable in detail, beginning with the problem as to where the story begins and ends. Most scholars agree that the actual parable concludes at the beginning of verse 8a that means that the person who commends the steward’s behaviour is the steward’s master – not Jesus[2]. The structure of the parable looks like this:

Introduction 1a Jesus’ introduction, 1b Introduction to parable

Scene 1 v 2

Scene 2 v 3,4

Scene 3 v 5, 6 (in symmetry with 4)

Scene 4 v 7

Conclusion v 8a (symmetry with the beginning 1b)

The first thing to note is that we are not told why the steward is being dismissed. All that we know is that rumours have reached his master (that the steward is squandering the master’s property – not that he is dishonest). Rumours alone are sufficient to have caused embarrassment or shame to the landowner, so in his mind there is no choice but to dismiss the steward. The steward has no recourse. If he takes action against his master he will cause the landowner even more shame and therefore possibly find himself in a worse position. Verses three and four tell us two things: one is that the steward is not a slave. If he were he might lose his position, but he would not lose his home. They also remind us that the cultural norms of honour and shame affected all levels of society.

In the next verses, Luke uses the technique to interior dialogue to let us know what the steward is thinking. Scene four lets us see where the steward’s thinking has taken him, and his solution to the problem – he will gain himself both honour and friends if he reduces the amounts due to his master. At the same time he will be increasing his master’s honour, because those on the receiving end will understand that the generosity has been extended by the landowner.

Finally the landowner commends the actions of the steward – he has not only secured his own future, but at the same time he has restored and enhanced the honour of his master. It is a win/win situation.

In summary:

  • A steward is mismanaging the estate
  • Rumours of this reach his master
  • He is told he can’t manage any more
  • He comes up with a solution
  • He is praised for his wise (shrewd) action
  • Action/vs no action

In short we will all be called to account, but rather than thinking that there is no solution we are challenged to think about our eternal future and to take action which might be risky, but which has the potential to result in a good outcome all around[3].

 

 

 

 

[1] We don’t know for example the nature of the loans or to whom they were made. Both the items loaned and the quantities are unusual and we only hear of two whereas there were probably several others.

[2] Verses 8b and 9 are a commentary on the parable that suggests that embarrassment at the commendation of dishonesty was early.

 

[3] I am heavily indebted to Jeffrey Durkin whose insightful article has given me an appreciation of the parable that I would otherwise not have had.

September 10, 2016

Pentecost 17 – 2016

Luke 15:1-10

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whose love and mercy confounds and astounds us all. Amen.

It all comes down to this – what sort of God you believe in. How do you envisage the nature of God? Do you believe in a fire-breathing, hell damning, judgemental, unforgiving God or is your image of God one of boundless, unconditional, all-encompassing, all forgiving love? The answer is important, because I believe that the answer lies at the heart of understanding the radical, shocking nature of the God depicted in today’s gospel.

Those who believe in an exacting, demanding rule-focussed God tend to have a view of the faith community as exclusive and limited, restricted to those who are willing and able to adhere to a set of stringent guidelines. They will be quite certain as to what behaviours determine who is in and who is out of the group and therefore who is in and out of God’s favour. A clear set of standards will enable them to measure their own goodness against that of others and at the same time will inform them of their (and others) status before God.

Those who believe in a compassionate, welcoming God will have a completely different view. They will understand that the community of believers is not exclusive or perfect but is made up of people who try but fail to achieve the godliness for which they aspire. As a consequence the boundaries of their community will be porous and ill-defined. They will welcome into their community the frail, the damaged and the imperfect. This community will also hold a clear set of standards, but they will accept that few, if any, will reach that ideal. Knowing their own imperfections and failures, they will think very carefully before measuring themselves against others and before standing in God’s place to judge.

Of course, these are broad-brush strokes and blatant stereotypes. Most Christian communities fall somewhere along the spectrum between these two extremes. Some will believe that God sets very high standards and, while imposing those standards on themselves will be open and compassionate towards those whom they consider to be “sinners”. Other communities that appear on the surface to be loving and compassionate may carry a weight of guilt at their failure to be more than they are.

I have described these two extremes to try to demonstrate just how shocking the parables of the lost would be to those who think of God as the arbiter of strict behaviours and who withhold love and approval from those who fail to live up to certain pre-defined standards. In fact as the opening verse reminds us, Jesus tells the parables in response to the accusation by the Pharisees and scribes that he eats with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus is answering the unspoken question: – who is worthy of God’s love – those who do what God requires or all God’s creatures, those who come up to standard or all people regardless of their failures?

Of the two parables, that of the lost sheep is the most shocking. Most of us find comfort in this parable. We see ourselves as those who were lost but are now found. It is interpreted as a parable that reminds us how much God loves us – that when we are lost God seeks us out and brings us home. That is certainly true – we can identify with the lost. However, what does the parable look like if we understand ourselves to be among the ninety-nine? Ninety-nine of the sheep are doing the right thing. Not one of them has wandered off. Not one has been absent-minded enough to lose track of the shepherd. Not one has been tempted to seek out better pastures. Not one thought that they knew better than the shepherd what was best for them.

No, only one sheep has been foolish enough or disobedient enough to wander from the safety of the group. Only one sheep has placed itself at risk by taking itself beyond the reach of the shepherd. Only one sheep has thought that it knew better than the shepherd. Yet – and here is the shock at the heart of the parable – despite the fact that one sheep hasn’t lived up to expectations, the shepherd abandons the ninety-nine compliant, obedient sheep and goes off in search of the one who did not conform. Instead of favouring those who behave according to expectation, the shepherd is making a big deal of the one that has gone its own way! The good sheep, those who are doing the right thing get no special treatment, no reward for their conformity – they might just as well not exist so concerned is the shepherd for the one that is lost.

If they could think like humans, the ninety-nine sheep would have every right to be indignant. What is the point, they might think, of doing the right thing, when the one who does the wrong thing receives special treatment. Why bother to behave in the right way when it is the one who behaves badly and creates so much trouble causes such joy to the shepherd when it is found? How can we feel smug about our own goodness when the shepherd (God) is obviously vitally concerned about those who are lost? If sheep could think I imagine that their reaction to the shepherd’s reckless behaviour would be much the same as the elder son’s response to the father’s extravagant welcome of the prodigal son.

In word and action, Jesus is revealing how much God loves ALL of God’s children. It is impossible for anyone to be beyond the reach of God’s love no matter what they do or how far they stray. When someone wanders from the fold, God is heartbroken and cannot rest until they are brought back in. God seeks the sheep that has drifted from the path, searches for the coin that has gone missing, and watches and waits for the prodigal to return.

Jesus’ parable is encouraging those who have responded to God’s love, who have remained within the fold, stayed with the other coins or remained at home with the Father to understand what a privilege it is to be so loved and to have the grace and generosity to allow – to desire even – that love to be shared with everybody – the good and the bad, the willing and the less willing, the conventional and the unconventional. .

In Jesus, God’s love for all people is made palpably visible. Do we, (like the scribes and Pharisees), resent the way that Jesus extends God’s love to those who do not deserve it? Are we (like the scribes and the Pharisees) so insecure of our place in God’s heart that we constantly compare ourselves with others to assure ourselves of our own worth? Or – are we so overwhelmed by God’s abundant, unconditional love and so confident that that love will never be withdrawn that we can join the rejoicing when the lost are found and God’s children come home?

To know God’s love and to begrudge that love to others demonstrates a meanness of spirit and a smallness of heart that makes us unworthy of the love that we have so freely received. God can love whomever God will. The wonder is that God has chosen to love us.

 

 

Can we say “yes”?

September 3, 2016

Pentecost 16 – 2016

Luke 14: 25-35

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who calls us out of our safety zone and takes us where we do not want to go. Amen.

Today at St Augustine’s six people will be baptised and four of those will then join six others in being confirmed. At the same time three young people will be admitted to Holy Communion. A confirmation is a great occasion in the life of a faith community. As adults and teens affirm the promises that were made for them in baptism, we are all challenged to reconsider our own baptism and confirmation and to think about how well those promises and commitments are lived out in our own lives. Do we “turn to Christ, repent of our sins, we reject false living and all that is unjust and renounce Satan and all that is evil?” On a daily basis do we make every effort to “love God with our whole heart and our neighbour as ourselves?”

In a Christian society these are not really such awesome commitments – believing in Jesus, recognising and being sorry for the times when we fall short, trying to ensure that those around us are treated fairly and renouncing evil come easily enough to most of us. We can even convince ourselves that we love God with our whole heart and our neighbors as ourselves. Being a Christian is a part of our self-identity, something that we accept as true without necessarily putting too much effort into it or spending too much time in reflection as to what it means. Most of us blend in with the world around us except that we probably attend church most Sundays and object to certain blatant misbehaviour. In a society that considers itself to be a Christian society, such commitments are not so far outside the norm that making them comes at any great cost.

I wonder if we would feel quite so self-assured if we were asked the questions implied in this morning’s gospel? Imagine, if you will, standing before your faith community and responding positively to ALL of the following questions:

Will you from this day forward commit yourselves to abandoning and hating your family?

Will you, if required, submit yourself to the horror of the cross?

Do you understand that if you want to follow Jesus that you must hate life itself?

Are you prepared to give up all your possessions?

If you start down this track are you prepared to see it through to the end?

I imagine that if these were the questions that were asked at our baptism and confirmation that not a few of us would reconsider our position. No wonder that most bibles entitle this section of the gospel “ the cost of discipleship.”

In the context of Luke’s gospel these statements are made at a time Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem and death. In making these demands, Jesus will have been ensuring that the disciples knew what lay ahead and assuring himself that they would be up to the task. Jesus wants to be confident that those who claim to be his disciples will be able to follow through – that they will not be found wanting when the time comes, that they will not expose themselves and therefore his message to ridicule.

Jesus is well aware that the journey on which Jesus and his disciples are embarking will have serious consequences. Those who follow him will need to be prepared to give up more and more as they approach their goal of walking in his footsteps. After Jesus’ death, when the disciples take on his mantle, they will face the same opposition and the same obstacles. They will have to be ready to sacrifice everything – family, possessions and even life itself.

In the twenty-first century we do not literally walk in the shadow of the cross, but Jesus’ demands are no less terrifying and overwhelming. They are a reminder that discipleship is costly. It can mean that we stand out from the world around us, that we are subject to greater scrutiny than those who profess no faith, that we might be called to put Jesus before our personal comfort, security and even safety. At the same time, we do not know when we will be put to the test, when we will be required to stand firm for what we believe or when we be asked to lay down our life for the sake of the gospel.

In every age, there have been believers who have known these demands to be true for their own lives, those who have refused to compromise even though it meant giving up family, possessions and ultimately life for the gospel[1].

It is perhaps our failure to give ourselves wholly and completely that leaves the church so open to scrutiny in today’s world. It is perhaps our half-hearted response to Jesus’ demands that means that we are not taken seriously, that ensures that the world is less than impressed by our commitment.

Should it be required of us, are we ready to follow Jesus to the bitter end, or are we among those who have begun to build but who have not considered whether or not we have the materials to finish it?

These are serious questions. The future of the gospel may depend on our response.

*********************

Afterword:

I thought this powerful quote was worth sharing. Check out the site for the rest of the article.

“So maybe, just maybe, these harsh words about “cross-bearing” are a call to do what Simon of Cyrene did. Once he picked up the cross, it wasn’t clear to anyone how the day would end. It was only clear that his future was bound up with the future of the poor, unfortunate person who could no longer carry the weight of the cross[2]”.

 

[1] I think of all the saints and martyrs – particularly those of our own time whom I name over and over again – Dietrich Bonheoffer, Oscar Romero, Martin Luther King not to mention the hundreds and thousands who have given their lives in the cause of justice and freedom.

[2] provokingthegospel.wordpress.com

Choose wisely, your future depends on it

August 27, 2016

Pentecost 15 – 2016

Luke 14:1, 7-14

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whose ways are not our ways. Amen.

 

One of the most contentious issues of our time relates to that of refugees, in particular, how the should the world respond to a crisis that threatens at times to overwhelm us? At the present moment around 60 million people are displaced. That is 60 million people have left their homes as a consequence of war, oppression, persecution, drought or poverty. Sixty million people are today seeking refuge from horrors that few of us can even begin to imagine.

Last year, the war in Syria saw an unprecedented number of people flocking to Europe by any means possible – by land and by sea, by foot, by boat and by train. Thousands lost their lives at sea as unscrupulous operators, used unsafe and overcrowded boats to ferry desperate people – not for humanitarian reasons but to line their own pockets. There were so many escaping horror that receiving countries were simply unable to cope. Not only could they not process the vast numbers seeking refuge, but fears about housing, feeding and providing work to the millions who were knocking at their doors led many European countries to close their borders. Terror attacks in France further raised the general anxiety about accepting people from countries that were also home to extremist groups such as ISIS.

Increasingly, compassion and welcome has turned to disquiet and distrust, generosity and openness have turned to protectionism and exclusion. The recent Brexit vote in the UK was as much about keeping Britain British and closing the borders as it was about the economic advantages or disadvantages of being a part of the EU. In Germany, the country which has been most determined to keep its borders open, recent attacks by traumatized refugees has highlighted the difficulties of providing adequate care for those whose mental health has been seriously affected by their experiences of war, displacement and the dangerous, uncertain escape to safety.

Issues surrounding migration and refugees are central to the Presidential campaign in the United States where there is talk of building walls, limiting the intake of refugees and so on. Here in Australia the issue is no less contentious. Discussions surrounding who to let in and who to exclude can be highly volatile. The debate has become so politicized and so divisive that it can be difficult to discuss the problem rationally. Fear of the other, defense of our standard of living and way of life and anxiety related to radical Islamism all mean that it can be hard to see the majority who are genuine behind the minority who may or not intend harm.

We are rightly appalled at the unscrupulous profiteering of people smugglers distressed by the deaths at sea as desperate people risk their lives to escape violence, oppression and discrimination at home but we cannot agree on how best to respond to those who take enormous risks hoping to find a safe haven.

It is not always easy to find the balance between caring for others and caring for our own. How do we determine at what point does generosity and compassion end and fiscal irresponsibility and prejudice begin?

It is a complex issue and I don’t claim to have all the answers, but it seems to me that today’s gospel gives us something to think about in relation to these questions. To recap: Jesus has been invited to a meal at the home of a Pharisee[1]. By now Jesus has gained a reputation and people are keen to see what he will get up to next. They are not disappointed – he challenges them to provide a reason as to why he may not cure a man who has dropsy and they are silent.

Then the situation is reversed. Jesus becomes the observer. In the first instance he observes the way in which people take their places at table and then he turns to his host and makes an observation about the guest list.

Jesus makes two speeches. The first provides practical advice to the guests on how to avoid humiliation while the second challenges the host to rethink his guest list. Interestingly the speeches take the same format – Jesus’ observation, a statement regarding what not to do, a comment on what to do and finally a theological rule. In the first speech Jesus observes the guests’ tendency to take the places of honour and he makes a pragmatic suggestion: “Take the lowest place so that the host might ask you to go up higher.” The practical nature of the speech changes with the conclusion that, though it is sensible advice, also points in a theological and an eschatological direction: “all who humble themselves will be exalted and all who exalt themselves will be humbled”. The future tense and the passive mood of the verbs tell us that this is not only a consequence that will occur in the present, but that humbling and exalting are actions that God will take in the future – at the judgement.

Having addressed the guests, Jesus turns his attention to his host. He suggests a radical reversal to the social norms of the day: “Don’t invite your friends or those who can return the favour, invite those who cannot repay you then you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” This time Jesus’ conclusion points very clearly to the resurrection – those who welcome the marginalised and the outcast are those who not only will be blessed in the present, but who will be welcomed at the resurrection.

The message of the two speeches is clear – God does not see as the world sees and, our behaviour in this life will affect what happens at the resurrection. The dinner party foreshadows the heavenly banquet and the place we take will reveal our self-assurance or our dependence on God. The invitation list for the wedding banquet reveals whether our concern for our reputation and our social position outweighs our compassion for others.

The place we assume will affect the place we are given, the welcome we give will determine the welcomes we are given. Choose wisely, Jesus suggests, your future depends on it.

[1] It is important to note that not all Jesus’ interactions with the Pharisees were antagonistic, but that Jesus was happy to social with Pharisees and they with him.

The cost of silence

August 20, 2016

Pentecost 14 – 2016

Luke 13:10-17

Marian Free

In the name of God who confronts evil and asks us to do likewise. Amen.

A couple of years ago I had two unpleasant experiences within a week. The first involved a cyclist who, having abused a driver who was waiting at the lights, tried to engage me in supporting him. So far as I could tell the driver had stopped exactly where he/she was required to stop and the cyclist was simply fueling a rage that somehow justified his existence. That is, if he was right and someone else was wrong he was somehow more – I don’t know – righteous or smarter than the other. There seemed to be no other point to the exercise other than the cyclist’s building himself up in his own eyes. Had I allowed myself to be involved I would have further justified his sense of self-righteousness. As it was I had the feeling that regardless of my lack of support he would spend the rest of the day feeling pleased with himself that he had got the better of someone. A little later that week I was walking the dog. As required, I had my plastic bag with me and made sure that I collected the dog faeces as we went. A car full of young men drove past and, as they did, they yelled out the window to the effect that I was causing offense. Again I didn’t engage but reflected that, like the cyclist, their outburst had less to do with me and more to do with their own need to make themselves feel as if they were in some way superior to myself.

Some use conflict to inflate their egos, others encourage conflict so as to bring a matter to a head, to enable them to deal with an issue and move on instead of pretending that nothing is the matter and allowing resentment or irritation to fester unchecked.

Then there are some who seek out conflict, not because they feel powerless or are lacking in confidence, but because they are seeking to bring about social change, to right wrongs, or to confront oppression and injustice. Such people have a conviction about what is right and are not afraid to challenge those who a perpetrating wrongs – even if their confrontational approach will lead to rejection, imprisonment or worse. Among such people we can count Mahatma Gandhi, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Nelson Mandela and many, many others. They seek conflict, not for the sake of conflict, but because they believe that there is a need to expose the evils of their day and feel that they must name what is wrong even though they know that it will lead to division.

Some people thrive on conflict. They seem to seek it out because it makes them feel more important or as if they have more control in lives in which they feel they have little status or power. Such people not only seek out conflict but, like the cyclist and young men, create conflict – either by pushing others until they react or by seeing offense where none was intended. Others use conflict to bring unresolved issues into the open, and yet others feel they have no choice but act in ways that are bound to put them into conflict with the establishment.

I suspect that Jesus was a little bit of b and c. That is, Jesus was keen to bring unspoken tensions (for example around the law) into the open and at the same time he was so confident in his role as God’s messenger that, even though arrest and crucifixion appeared to be the likely outcome, he refused to compromise or to soften his message. So far as Jesus was concerned, restoring God’s intention for God’s people meant freeing them from the burdens that had been placed upon them and interpreting the law as a means of liberation rather than as something that was restrictive and overwhelming. No wonder that Jesus came into conflict with the religious leaders of his time. He was challenging a way of life that had come to be taken for granted and at the same time he was undermining their authority as those who interpreted the law for the people.

Almost from the beginning of his ministry Jesus has insisted that an interpretation of the Sabbath law that leads to harm rather than good is a misinterpretation of God’s meaning (Lk 6:6f). Like all practicing Jews, Jesus attends the synagogue regularly. However, instead of leaving well alone and maintaining the social norms, Jesus invites division. Early in his ministry, Jesus threw out a challenge: “I ask you, is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save life or to destroy it?” According to today’s gospel, Jesus is now beyond asking. It clearly makes no sense to him to allow a woman to suffer another moment when she could be set free today. Jesus points out the double standard of the religious when it comes to interpreting the law. It is permissible to save an animal from distress but not a human being!

Jesus cannot remain silent and nor can he hold back his healing power. He must do what he feels he is called to do even though it will cause offense and even though it will heighten the conflict between himself and the establishment.

In Luke’s gospel, Jesus’ conflict is not only with the religious leaders. Luke tells us that Jesus is engaged in a bigger and far more dangerous conflict – that between Jesus and Satan, or the conflict between the material and the spiritual worlds. Before Jesus even begins his ministry the forces of this world try to throw him off course in the desert. When Jesus proves too difficult a target, Satan departs until “an opportune time”. Now, mid-way through the gospel Jesus preempts Satan’s next strike, by freeing the woman whom “Satan has bound for eighteen long years.” Both on a human level and on a spiritual level, Jesus is inviting conflict, bringing discord into the open where it can be recognised and properly addressed, not allowed to deepen and grow. Jesus is not afraid to name what is wrong and to identify the true enemy. Despite the fact that this will deepen the opposition to him and his ministry, he will not be deflected from his goal or compromise his values.

Many of us avoid conflict. We do not want to cause trouble. As a consequence, we fail to see the unhappiness that can result when we fail to address those things that cause hurt to ourselves or to others. Jesus had no such problem.

Dare we remain silent if our silence means that the evils of the world are allowed to continue unabated?