Maintaining a sense of awe

January 5, 2013
Maintaining a sense of awe and wonder

Maintaining a sense of awe and wonder

Epiphany 2013

Matthew 2:1-12

 

Marian Free

 

Holy God, open our hearts to the wonder that surrounds us – especially that which reveals your presence. Amen.

I don’t know what your experience was, but I clearly remember the day on which I became aware that science had destroyed my innocence – the day I knew things which changed forever the way in which I looked at the world.  I guess that I was about nine years old. I was lying on my back under a frangipani tree. As I looked up at the clouds I saw – not fluffy, cotton wool creations on which angels might sit, but instead floating masses of water which would not hold even the smallest of celestial beings. In that moment I knew, all the magic of clouds had gone. My new-found knowledge meant that my view of the world had changed forever. It was no longer possible to see the world as I had once seen it.

While I obviously remember that moment with absolute clarity, I can assure you that it did not destroy my joy and wonder in creation, nor did it produce an antipathy for science which, as often as not, points me in the direction of awe and wonder not only in God’s creation, but in those good things made by our hands.

That said, I do feel a sense of regret that the church, which at first protected its members from the Enlightenment, eventually allowed itself to be caught up in a need to be both rational and scientific. Over the years much astronomical work has gone into trying to find an explanation for the star that the Magi followed. Could it the triple conjunction of planets, a combination of just two planets, a Nova or even a comet? Unlike other miracles, astronomical events can be traced with some accuracy. If we knew the exact date of Jesus’ birth or could read back into Matthew’s story the precise time at which the Magi saw the star, we could scientifically work out whether there was an actual astronomical event which caught the attention of our Magi.

Determining the nature of the “star”, finding scientific evidence for the biblical miracles, is to miss the point of the story-telling. It is clear if we read all four gospels, that none of the writers were intent on writing an historically accurate account of Jesus’ birth. If they were all four accounts would be exactly the same. By the time the evangelists were writing, there were no eyewitnesses to Jesus’ life and besides, they had a more important goal in mind. As they saw it, their task was to bring people to faith in Jesus not to write history and certainly not to write history as you and I think of history.

In the setting of the first Christian communities, the stories of Jesus played a number of roles, one of which was that of forming the identity of the emerging community, of reinforcing the idea of who they were. The stories that were repeated were the stories of faith. They recalled Jesus as people had known him, they developed an understanding of Jesus’ place in history and provided tales that were vital for the ongoing life of the church. The writers and their communities were not cross-checking references to make sure they got it right. What they were doing was trying to make sense of, not to record history. (It is only in relatively recent times that there has been a concern with the historicity and reliability of biblical stories. Prior generations accepted them as sacred stories of faith and were not overly concerned with whether or not they corresponded with actual fact.[1])

Which brings us back to the Magi, those mysterious figures who come from who knows where to offer gifts to a child whom they believe – despite his unpromising beginnings – will one day become a king. Their place in Matthew’s gospel and in the future direction of the church is vital for they represent the Gentiles – all the nations other than that of Israel, who by virtue of this birth, will through faith rather than physical descent be able to gain a place in the people of God.

In this way scripture was fulfilled. Throughout the OT there are signs that the God of the Jews could and did use others to fulfill God’s purpose, just as there are indications and even promises that no one would be excluded from God’s embrace. Abraham was promised that he would be the forebear of many nations, significant characters of the OT testament did not belong to the nation of Israel – Ruth was a Moabite, Rahab a Canaanite and Cyrus a Persian. Jonah saved the Gentile people of Nineveh. A queen from Sheba came to visit Solomon and so on. Add to this the references in the Psalms and elsewhere that the Gentiles will stream to Jerusalem. In other words it is easy to defend the notion that the OT expectation was that Judaism would not remain an exclusive group.

The reality of the early Christian community was that the Gentiles were flocking to Jesus while the Jewish people were, by and large holding back. All the gospel writers struggle to come to terms with this situation. Matthew solves the puzzle at the start by having rank outsiders become the first to identify and to worship Jesus.

It would be wonderful if both the shepherds and the magi were historically true, but what is more important is what the stories have to tell us. The shepherds place Jesus among the poor and the outcast. The account of the Magis expands Jesus’ sphere of influence beyond the confines of Israel. In that sense both accounts are true because they both reveal an essential truth about Jesus.

In our search for truth let us not abandon our sense of wonder and expectation. There are times when we may suspend out intellect and allow ourselves to be drawn into a story which in the final analysis is beyond our grasp and certainly beyond our comprehension.


[1] Johnston, Engaging the Word, 7.

The teenage years – the adolescent Jesus

December 29, 2012

Christmas 1

Luke 2:41-52

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, who nurtures and encourages us, and who sets us free to make our own way in the world. Amen.

We all know that a parent bird literally forces a fledgling out of the nest so that it learns how to fly. If it is not pushed, it may never stretch its wings and become independent. It will be unable to survive unless the parent birds plan to lay no more eggs and feed the baby bird forever.

One of the things that I learnt as a parent was this – that good parenting, or at least reasonably good parenting, involves the costly task of letting go. That is, if we do the task of parenting well, what we are doing is preparing our children not to be parented. We engage in the task of ensuring that our children do not need us. The role into which we put so much energy and love is one that if done well inevitably leads to hurt, loss and separation. Our task, difficult as it may seem, is to prepare our children for independence – to love them so much that instead of holding on to them we set them free.

There are at least four stages of separation before our children actually leave the nest.

Each of these stages can create pain, stress and disharmony within the family as the relationships between parent and child are forced to change and adapt to the shifting situations. At least in recent history, it appears that unlike birds, we do not have an in-built trait which is automatically triggered when our children reach a particular stage of development. Our instinct is often to maintain control rather than to let go. Wehave to struggle with the process of our offspring’s growing maturity. Most of us find it difficult to be totally gracious about our children’s growing independence – or at least about the unsettling way in which their quest to separate themselves disrupts what has been a comfortable family life.

All separation is painful. Not only is the process of birth agonizing in a physical sense, but a mother also has to accept that the child, which was an integral part of her, can now exist – at least breathe and eat – independently. She is still needed, but she has to adapt to being needed in a different way. After two years, a child begins to exert pressure to be further identified as an independent individual. The so-called “terrible twos” are simply part of the process as a child makes the journey from dependence to independence. For many families this is a difficult time as parents try to find the balance between giving the child an opportunity to express themselves and at the same time creating boundaries so that the child learns the limits and gains a sense of security.

If this stage is negotiated successfully there may be a time of relative tranquility until the child reaches adolescence. Then, once again, the child will test the limits, make demands for independence and disrupt the pattern of relationships which have been developed and which have allowed the family unit to operate smoothly. Unlike the terrible twos, this is a stage which may extend over a number of years and which may force the final stage to come sooner rather than later. Teenagers often have no understanding of and certainly no sympathy for their parent’s concerns. They know that they will be safe at their friend’s party. They are sure that no harm will come to them if they go out with their friends and so on. On the other hand, parents often do not readily accept that their child is responsible or that their child is capable of making sensible decisions and looking after themselves. Parents know what can happen and take some time to accept that their child is ready for the world.

Finally, the young person is ready to step out on their own, to make their way. Tears at weddings reflect pride, but also a recognition that the person into whom so much was poured can now go it alone. All the love, all the nurture that the parent has provided have led to their child going off on their own.

Today’s gospel has many parts, of which one is Jesus’ adolescence. In this episode the twelve year old Jesus is demonstrating his growing awareness of who he is, he is asserting his independence, separating from his birth family and shifting his allegiance to another cause. In other words he is being a typical adolescent. Jesus has been brought by his parents to Jerusalem – as he has been for the past eleven years. As a twelve year old he has presumably been given some independence which he uses to make up his own mind that he does not need to leave at the same time as the rest of the family. His parents, who have trusted him to be responsible are, not surprisingly, filled with anxiety when they realize he is not with the return party and they begin an anxious search for him.

When they finally discover him, Jesus behaves like a normal adolescent. He cannot understand why they should have been so worried. He knew that he was perfectly safe and capable of looking after himself! Jesus’ response to his mother’s question is one of surprise: “Why were you looking for me?” He dismisses his parent’s anxiety, and as other adolescents have done since, accuses them of ignorance: “Didn’t you know?” This is a typical twelve year old who believes that he is all grown up and who thinks that his parents (who are stupid) should have caught up with that fact.

It is very easy to read the story of Jesus in the Temple in a pious way, but it is just as valid to see this account as further evidence of Jesus’ humanity.

Certainly, the author of Luke uses the account to make a transition from the story of Jesus’ birth to the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. He is also making the Temple a central character as he does at both the beginning and end of the Gospel, he is introducing the reader to Jesus’ superior wisdom, suggesting Jesus’ strong ties to God the Father, making links with the birth narrative (Mary treasured all these things in her heart) and with Simeon’s prediction (a sword will pierce your own heart). None of these must be allowed to paper over the picture of Jesus’ behaving as any other teenage boy asserting his independence, trying to break free of the parental shackles and seeking to be treated as an adult.

It is clear that “in the memory of the Lukan community, Jesus appeared not only as the son of the divine Father, but also in complete humanity, as a maturing boy[1].”

God as Jesus fully identified with our human situation in order that God might redeem our humanity and restore our divinity. In our own quest for divinity, we need not reject our humanity, but embrace it and, with God’s help make what we can of it.


[1] Bovon, Francois. (Trans Christine M. Thomas). Luke 1. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2002, 113.

The vulnerability of God

December 24, 2012

Christmas Eve 2012

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who gave up all power and authority to create and then to re-create us. Amen.

I often think that the infant in the cradle, “wrapped in cloths”, distracts us from the reality of the situation. We are drawn to the baby as we are drawn to all babies and our hearts are filled with love and a longing to wrap our arms around the child. In the depictions of the Nativity, we see a loving family, comfortably gathered and surrounded by the shepherds and wise men who come to worship.

What we don’t always see is the raw, naked vulnerability of the child – the child who is God and who at this point in time is completely powerless to control his destiny and who is utterly dependent on those around him – on Mary and Joseph, on Herod and the political circumstances of the  country which he finds himself.

Thinking of God as a defenceless child can be startling and a little confusing. It goes against our expectations and forces us to see God from an entirely different perspective. A vulnerable, powerless God does not conform to our concept of a God who is omnipotent and all-powerful, who directs and determines, who judges and condemns. To think of God as a helpless baby challenges everything we might have thought about God. And yet, from the inception of Christianity this is one of the images of God – a God without power, a God unable to intervene and God unable to force God’s will on anyone.

In fact, from the very beginning of the Judeo-Christian faith, the image of God is of a God who instead of keeping all authority to himself, chooses to give that power to humankind. In the Garden of Eden, God the creator gave humanity the freedom to choose. God who could have determined the future of humankind, ceded that power to human beings who used that power to choose to compete with, rather than serve God.

When it all went horribly wrong God chose, not to force humankind to change, but to trust humankind to change themselves. In order to do that, God put himself in our hands and risked everything in the hope that we would rise to the occasion, in the hope that our response to the infant Jesus and to the man, would serve to bring salvation to the world.

God still depends on us to get it right, trusts us to return the world to the idyllic state of the garden. God is still powerless unless we co-operate. The vulnerable God in the cradle depends on the people around him for his survival. The powerless God depends on us to change the world.

The powerlessness of God is demonstrated in the vulnerable and suffering of our own time. Until we accept the vulnerability of the baby, the helplessness of the child in the manger, we will not recognise our responsibility to be those who empower God’s saving work in the world. We will not change the situation of

–       the children of Syria and throughout the Middle East who are dependent on warring parties sitting down at the negotiating table and committing to a lasting peace.

–       the children of Niger, the Sudan and countless other nations who are dependent on our goodwill for food,

–       the millions of children who are victims of the AIDS epidemic who are dependent on education programmes and access to health care,

–       the children working in sweat factories and mines, who are forced into slavery and prostitution who are dependent on enough international advocacy will to set them free,

–       the children of Sandy Hook whose lives along with the 20,000 other young people killed by guns in the US are totally dependent on the will of a nation to give up a love affair with guns.

Until we are willing to change our lives, until we are willing to give us some of our comforts, until we are determined to engage our political leaders and to confront world leaders, until we in our turn become vulnerable and dependent on each other, God remains powerless to intervene in world affairs. Because God is dependent on us, God can only do what we are prepared to do in God’s name.

Next time you look in the manger, see beyond the comforting image of a well-fed, well clothed, well-loved baby and see in that child’s eyes, the eyes of God doing the only thing God knows how to do to change the world around – to give himself utterly and completely to us, hoping against hope that we will give ourselves to God and to each other.

 

 

Let us pray

Holy God,

give us grace and courage to acknowledge our contribution to the suffering in the world. Help us to become vulnerable as you became vulnerable that we may be part of the solution and not of the problem.

Powerless God,

make us aware of your presence in and around us. Help us to have the grace to open ourselves to you, that your presence may be made known through us.

Living God,

be with all who live life in the shadow of poverty and despair,

especially those in our own community whose needs often are overlooked

as we look further afield in our desire to ease the suffering of others.

Give hope to the lost and support to the powerless and make us sensitive and responsive to needs and concerns of those around us.

 

Healing God,

in Jesus, you shared the pain of the sick, you knew what it was to face death. Be with all who at this time are in need of comfort and healing. Encourage and strengthen those who are ill and recovering from surgery, support those who are dying and be with all whose task is to bring about healing.

 

Dying and rising God,

as you shared our existence, may we strive to share yours, that at our end we may             join you and all the saints for eternity.

The God-child, the child-God

December 22, 2012
Baby Jesus

Baby Jesus

Advent 4

Hebrews 10:5-10

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, who as Jesus, became fully human in order to fully redeem human beings. Amen.

There is a television programme which I do not watch, but which I have caught glimpses of in advertisements. It is called something like: Our embarrassing bodies. From what I can glean from the promotions it is about ghastly and disfiguring afflictions and, I presume, it is about ways to deal with them. It is a reminder that the human body is a fascinating and complex organism and it has many parts, functions and characteristics that we tend to consider unspeakable, embarrassing and even disgusting.

Somehow, it is much easier to believe that baby Jesus is a real baby than it is to accept that the adult Jesus was flesh and blood like us.  It is difficult to accept that God could really inhabit a human body, to believe that Jess really did experience all the bodily functions. It would be more palatable to imagine that Jesus, even as a human being somehow occupied a different plane form the rest of us, that somehow his humanity was tempered by a body that didn’t behave in the same way as ours – that Jesus had no primal urges, that he didn’t sweat or burp or do anything that might be considered improper or unbecoming.

The problem of Jesus’ humanity is not a new one. The early church was torn apart by controversy regarding the nature of Jesus. There were some who thought Jesus was just a supremely virtuous person whom God adopted as the “Son of God”. Others believed that Jesus remained God even though he appeared to be human. Still others thought that it was only when he was resurrected from the dead that the human Jesus became God.

In the fourth century matters were brought to a head by a popular preacher from Libya called Arius who denied the divinity of Christ. His ideas were so compelling that they convinced many of the bishops of the time. The Emperor, Constantine was so dismayed by the disunity in the church that he called the Council of Nicea and demanded that the bishops come to some agreement as to what Christians believed. The result was the declaration expressed in the Nicean Creed that:“ We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, light from light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one being with the Father through him all things were made … he was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary and became truly human”.

Jesus’ fleshly nature was already an essential component of New Testament theology – it was not an invention of the Council of Nicea. Writers as different as the apostle Paul, the writer of the gospel of John and the author of the book of Hebrews all attest to an early belief that Jesus truly inhabited human flesh, just as he was truly God on earth.

That Jesus was fully human, that he did really take on human flesh is important for a number of reasons which are different but complementary.

It was only as a human being that Jesus could work salvation for humankind. The obedience of the human Jesus’ was the only way to undo Adam’s disobedience. In the flesh, Jesus was able to redeem the flesh. By taking on human form, Jesus demonstrated that it is possible for human beings to be all that God created us to be. If Jesus as fully human can submit to God, we know it is not our flesh that prevents us from being obedient, but what we choose to do with it. Jesus’ humanity reminds us that, despite all the evidence to the contrary, human beings, inhabiting human flesh can be truly godly.

The fact that Jesus became fully human means that Jesus redeemed human flesh with all its weaknesses, its urges and its passions. Jesus’ humanity is evidence that our whole person is redeemed not just that part of us which might consider untainted and sinless. Our whole person is redeemed not just a part of it. Jesus’ being fully human demonstrates that God values our physicality as well as our divinity.

Jesus’ becoming human confirms that we cannot pay God off or placate God with sacrifices. God wants us – heart, soul and body not our deeds or our gifts. Jesus as a human being gave his whole self and showed that we should give nothing less.

As we come to the end of Advent and enter into the season of Christmas, we come face to face with the child in the manger. It is not difficult to identify the baby Jesus as a real baby.  The challenge that faces us year after year is to accept that the real child in the cradle grows into a real human being – a human being with longings and desires, weaknesses and strengths, just like us.

As Jesus became one with us, so we should strive to become one with him, and through him become agents of redemption in the world.

 

Being aware – looking inwards

December 15, 2012

Advent 3

Luke 3:7-18

Marian Free

In the name of God whose unconditional love challenges us to accept ourselves for who we are so that we may seek to be made whole. Amen.

 You will have gathered by now that I am a great fan of the writings of C.S. Lewis. Unfortunately, while his ideas are sometimes quite simple, his writing is complex and it is not always easy to re-frame his thoughts in a way that accurately captures what he is trying to say. Lewis was a late comer to Christianity and he used his great intellect to write not only books on theology, but also children’s books, as in the Narnia series, science fiction and imaginative theology. One of my favourites in the latter category is a light-hearted but deadly serious look at sin. The book is called The Screwtape Letters[1] and it takes the form of a number of letters written by a senior devil to a much younger devil who is just starting out. The ultimate goal of these devils is to weaken a believer’s connection to God while at the same time convincing them that their faith and their practice of that faith is just as strong as it ever was.

Among other things, one of the achievements of the book is to illustrate how difficult it can be for human beings to adequately identify sin. In particular it demonstrates how often and how easy it is for us to convince ourselves that what we are doing is selfless, humble and abstemious when in fact we are being selfish, proud and greedy. Screwtape (the senior devil) urges his nephew Wormwood to exploit these weaknesses – to encourage the believer to pursue those things that make him or her feel virtuous but which in fact increase the distance between themselves and God. He uses an example of a person who thinks that his or her modest diet is evidence of their economy and self-control when in reality their apparent virtue lapses easily into an obsession with food and into attention seeking behaviour. “No, no, I couldn’t eat all that, just bring me a dry biscuit.”

Screwtape also encourages Wormwood to make use of those supposed virtues which, if engaged in simply for the sake of being virtuous, tend to lead to bitterness and resentment – the exact opposite of their intention. For example, he suggests that Wormwood take advantage of what he calls the petty altruisms – the affected unselfishness which hides a person’s true needs and feelings and which creates, instead of satisfaction, feelings of resentment and a sense of being unappreciated.

In today’s gospel, those who come out to John the Baptist ask the direct question in response to his challenge that they repent. “What then shall we do?” they ask. His answer is very specific. True to the Lukan communitarian values John’s answer to the crowds is that they should share what they have with those who have nothing. Tax collectors and soldiers are singled out for even more specific advice which relates to their professions. That is well and good, but for twenty-first century listeners these suggestions are not entirely helpful and the very specific nature of the advice does not allow us to generalize it to our own situation. The advice only allows us to deal with a very narrow band of sinful actions and provides only a limited number of ideas as to how to behave well.

Jesus’ attacks on the Pharisees later in the gospel make it clear that simple, rule-bound behaviour is not sufficient for entry into the Kingdom of God. He is adamant that the state of a person’s heart is just as important – if not more so – than external behaviour. The behaviours and attitudes of the Pharisees as described by the Gospels demonstrate that it is relatively easy to deal with the surface sins, to paper over deeper issues such as insincerity and a need for recognition with an outward appearance of virtue, selflessness and goodness. An example of a conflict between external behaviour and internal insufficiency can be seen in the apparent selflessness of a parent or spouse which is in fact a way of feeding their own need to be needed. Instead of helping their partner or child, such a person may be fostering the other’s dependence on themselves and, as a result, making themselves feel useful and virtuous at the expense of the other. Their own low self-esteem and deeper need for affirmation is hidden beneath a veneer of self-sacrifice which in turn becomes a burden not a relief for the person whom they claim to be assisting. To quote C.S. Lewis: “She’s the sort of woman who lives for others – you can tell the others by their hunted expression.”

Again the Gospel description of the Pharisees is evidence that religion and its practice may be another way of hiding one’s inner faults and failings with a veneer of religiosity. Asceticism, fasting, and other spiritual practices may serve not to build holiness but to disguise a spiritual emptiness. Instead of modelling a deep and meaningful relationship with God, such people can seriously damage the vulnerable seekers who come to them for guidance.

Sometimes the obvious sin is not the real problem. The real sin is not what can be seen but an underlying condition which needs to be healed and addressed before the surface behaviour can properly go away. For example the outward sin of bullying may be driven by an inward urge to be recognized and valued by others. The outward sin of greed may cover up a feeling of emptiness and reveal a belief that possessions will fill the void. The outward sin of arrogance may compensate for a deep sense of unworthiness. A person who feels that they are of little value may go to a great deal of trouble to convince others and therefore themselves that they are of some importance. If only the outward expression of such sins is managed, then the inward issues may fester and grow and be expressed in some other equally damaging or unhealthy way.

All of this should go to show that sinning is a much more complex issue than simply breaking one of the Ten Commandments, or practicing any one of the seven deadly sins. The problem with simply following rules, is that it allows us to feel OK and doesn’t force us to examine our ulterior motives, to question whether or not our behaviour assists or damages others or to face our own inner demons, insecurities and needs.

During Advent we are challenged to be awake and alert, to prepare ourselves for the coming of Jesus. In this time of reflection and preparation let us have the courage to be awake and alert to our inner selves, to have the nerve to examine not only our outward appearance but to look deep inside to see what drives us and our behaviour, to ask if our selflessness is really selfishness, if our abstemiousness covers up our greed and if our attempts to serve others lead to resentment rather than to satisfaction. To ask, in other words, what specific advice would John the Baptist offer us, were we to find ourselves in his presence.


[1] Lewis, C.S. The Screwtape Letters.

(There are a number of internet sites which offer a free PDF version of the book.)

Being Prepared – a Reflection for Advent 2

December 8, 2012

Advent 2 2012

Luke 3:1-6

Marian Free

Woodbine Willie

Geoffrey Anketell Studdert Kennedy

In the name of God who is coming to call us all to account. Amen.

I wonder how you envisage judgement day? Do you see God seated on a throne with books of your good and bad deeds laid out before him? Or do you think that when you breathe your last you will simply make an easy transition to heaven? Do you think about what you might do before that day to be prepared?

I guess that I stand somewhere between the idea of the throne and of the easy transition. I am not convinced that a God who enters the world as a vulnerable baby and allows himself to be nailed to the cross, is a God that is absorbed with thinking of ways to keep us out of heaven. Neither do I think that God keeps score, for that would rob the cross of its meaning and imply that we could achieve salvation through our own efforts. I do believe however that we are accountable for how we behave in this life and that we will stand before God to give an account.

How do we prepare for such an occasion? Do we worry ourselves sick trying to reach some imaginary high standard? Do we need to become serious, moralizing, fun- destroying do-gooders? Do we put ourselves into a straight jacket so that we can be sure that we will avoid doing those things which would lead us to hell?

I don’t think so. I believe that the most important thing that we can do to be prepared for the end is to trust in God’s unfailing love and in response to that love endeavour to be the best we can. In coming to this opinion, I have found this poem by Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy to be helpful. It’s called “Well?” and it was written by Studdert Kennedy when he was an army chaplain during WWI. It is written in dialect so I apologize ahead of time if I slip in and out of the accent. It is published in a collection of Studdert Kennedy’s poems called Unutterable Beauty and can be found on the Internet if you’d like to read it for yourself. I think it speaks for itself and may give you something to think about as you prepare for the coming of Jesus.

www.poemhunter.com/poem/well-5/ (There are also recitations of the poem on You tube)

 

Paying attention to God

December 1, 2012

Advent 1 2012

Luke 21:25-38

Marian Free

In the name of God who was and is and is to come. Amen.

 When I was a child I remember being fascinated by a story my mother used to tell. It related to a time when she was a young mother. Apparently,  one of her friends who had recently given birth to her first child went off to the hairdressers at her regular time. When the hairdresser asked after the baby the woman realised that she had completely forgotten that she had a baby and had left the at home! Thankfully no damage was done and she never forgot again. She simply hadn’t adjusted to being a mother and presumably the baby was asleep when she was getting ready to leave the house.

Adjusting to a new situation is not always the reason that children get forgotten or neglected. In an interview aired during the week an Australian musician spoke about her father. She reported that he was both wonderful and unconventional. He did things like wake her up in the middle of the night to take her out and he treated her very much as an adult, sharing his passions with her. Those were the good times. There were times however when her father had become so drunk the night before that he couldn’t be woken in the morning to take her to school. It wasn’t that he had forgotten that he was a father, he had let other things in his life take precedence over that responsibility.

Alcohol and drugs do have the power to take over someone’s life to the extent that all other priorities – work, relationships and even children – take second place.  It is also true that it is possible to become so absorbed in something that other things get forgotten.  For example, someone might be having such a good time at a party that they don’t notice the time passing and forget to pick up their child or their spouse at the agreed time. Someone else might be so engrossed in the task that they are doing that they run late for their next appointment or commitment.

There are a number of things that distract us from more important or more central things in our lives – work, play, mind altering substances, anxiety, fear – the list could probably go on and on and of course, the potential distractions would be different for all of us.

Today’s gospel is concerned with distractions. There are three short sayings, all of which focus on Jesus’ coming  again. These are -holding our heads high, paying attention and not allowing our focus to wander.   Jesus describes the cosmic turbulence that will be associated with the coming of the Son of Man. – even the powers of the heavens will be shaken. These events will be terrifying, but Jesus urges his followers not to be anxious – to see the events for what they are. If Jesus is coming, then instead of cowering in fear, they should stand tall, confident that their redemption is near.

There may be dramatic signs of Jesus’ return but Jesus reminds his disciples that they are not to ignore the more subtle signs that he is near – signs as simple as the fig tree putting forth its blossom.  Then Jesus narrows the scene down even further – to a personal level.  He has encouraged his followers to notice the signs in the cosmos and the signs in the world around them. Last he reminds them that they need to look to their own lives and to ensure that there is nothing in the way that they live their lives that could blind them to or to take their attention away from Jesus’ return.

All three sayings deal with the theme of paying attention. The first two with what we need to attend to and the last a warning not to be distracted from these things.

The three themes are different and yet related – different in their focus, but related in their demand that we are alert at all times  to what God has done, what God is doing and what God will do.  The three sayings remind us that Jesus is going to return at a time that will not be of our choosing and that it may or may not come with a clear warning.  For this reason, Jesus says that it is essential that his followers be ready for his coming at any time. That said, Jesus cautions that our capacity to be prepared should not be compromised by fear – which would be a failure to trust God. Our capacity should not be limited by inattentiveness – which would demonstrate that we were not fully aware of God’s presence already in the world. Our capacity to be prepared should not be flawed by distraction or getting absorbed in things that take our focus away from what is important – which would demonstrate the weakness of our relationship with God.

Jesus doesn’t issue these warnings to keep us on our toes, or to have us live in a state of perpetual anxiety about the coming of the end.  Jesus will return as judge. However, to spend all our time and energy worrying and preparing for that day would in fact, be in direct contradiction of Jesus’ intention here. Being ready for Jesus’ return does relate to the future, but our readiness for that return is a task for the present.

It is in the present that we will see the signs of God moving and working among us. It is in the present that we need to hone our ability to recognise God. It is in the present that we need to be careful that we do not allow ourselves to be distracted by things which ultimately take our attention away from the reality of God in our lives. If we pay too much attention to what might or might not happen in the future, if we worry too much about how we will stand up in the judgement, if we become absorbed with trying to work out how to achieve a good outcome, then ironically we will be doing the very things what Jesus is warning against.  That is, instead of looking forward to God’s coming, instead of believing that we are among the redeemed and instead of focusing on Jesus we would actually be focussing on ourselves and living out of fear not joyful expectation – the very thing that Jesus is trying to discourage.

In our faith journey it is so important to find a balance – to be able to so trust in God, to pay sufficient attention to God’s presence in our lives, to be so confident in our relationship with God, that all else – our behaviour in the present and our expectations of the future simply fall into place. To do anything else leads us to rely on ourselves and our self absorption takes our attention away from what God is doing and what God plans to do.

During Advent we focus on Jesus’ coming into the world, Jesus’ presence with us now and Jesus’ coming again. As we reflect on this threefold coming of God among us, we are given the time to ask once again: Do we truly believe that we are redeemed? Do we pay attention to God in the little details of our lives? Do we allow ourselves to be distracted by things that ultimately do not matter?

The future is important, but if we allow it to dominate the present it will be the very distraction that causes us to miss the signs and be weighed down by the worries of this life that we do not raise our heads and recognise that our redemption is near.

What is truth?

November 24, 2012

The Reign Of Christ – 2012

John 18:38 What is truth?

 

Marian Free

 In the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier who leads us into all truth. Amen.

I imagine that when most of us think about truth, we think about the truth, about firm facts and figures that remain constant over time. We believe that if we look hard enough we will discover some universal consistency, some shared knowledge or beliefs that are true for all people and in all situations. I’m not a philosopher, but I have learnt over time that it is not as easy as that.

So what is truth? The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy tells us that the question of truth has been debated for thousands of years. It states that truth is not only one of the central topics of philosophy, but also the largest. In fact the article claims that a “huge variety of issues in philosophy relate to truth” making truth a central platform of that discipline. Within philosophy itself there are a number of ways of looking at truth. For example, one way of determining truth is to determine whether or not a statement corresponds to a fact. The statement: “James walks” can be easily verified by the observation of James walking. Another way of looking at truth is to determine whether or not a set of beliefs is coherent. A set of beliefs which says that cows are four legged, milk producing mammals with different coloured hides that sometimes have three legs is not coherent and therefore not true. Cows cannot three legs and at the same time have four legs.

The Catholic Encyclopedia is no more helpful in its definition of truth. In fact  it could be argued that it is less helpful because it relates truth to God and God is a quantity that cannot be tied down. This site uses terms like ontological truth and logical truth and speaks of truth as being in the mind of God -as if the mind of God were something we could mine for facts about the world and about existence.

Another site, the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy – at least in its Google tag – uses John 18:38 from today’s gospel as evidence that the question of truth has been around for at least 2,000 years. The biblical reference proves to be a distraction because on inspection the site is just as difficult for the uninitiated as the former two. I leave it to the philosophers among you to explore the matter further. The point is that truth is not so easily described and prescribed as we might sometimes like to imagine – which makes John 18:38 particularly interesting.

Depending on where I am coming from at the time, I see Pilate’s question, “What is truth?”, as either cynical or poignant – cynical, because history tells us that Pilate was a cruel and insecure ruler or poignant because seen sympathetically, it is an expression of confusion and a desire to see and therefore respond more clearly to the situation before him. His question comes on the heels of Jesus’ self description – “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

We too might ask Pilate’s question – what is truth? In this complex and confusing world, sometimes it is difficult to separate the wheat from the chaff, the good from the bad, to know when we are protecting our own self interests and when we are establishing laws that protect the safety of all.

In John’s Gospel, “αλήθεια” – “truth” is used 29 times, significantly more than it is used in any other gospel. From the first chapter in which Jesus is described as full of “grace and truth”, through chapter 8 in which Jesus says, “you will know the truth and the truth will set you free” to the well known, “I am the way, the truth and the light”, truth is a consistent theme. Truth, according to the author of the gospel, relates to Jesus’ unity with God which allows him to be or to reveal what is true. Further it is the relationship between God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit which enables Jesus to promise that the Holy Spirit will lead believers in to the truth. Through the Trinity, Jesus’ claims, those who believe in him will know the truth and this knowledge will set apart those who belong to him from those who do not.

Having had a brief look at the way in which the philosophers define truth, it is interesting to consider the way in which it is used by the author of John’s gospel. Here the expression is used in a very particular way. “Truth” in the fourth gospel refers to right judgement – knowing truth from falsehood, distinguishing good from evil, being able, as God is, to make right judgements. When we understand this, it becomes easier to understand Pilate’s question.

Pilate’s dilemma was just this. He has been asked to make a judgement based, it would appear, on very little evidence and despite his reputation he seems to be loathe to become involved in something that is not strictly his provenance – a question of religious law. As a way to avoid decision-making, he first of all tries to hand the decision back to those who brought Jesus to him. When that fails, he gives Jesus the responsibility to acquit or condemn himself. Perhaps, if Jesus will say that he is a King, Pilate will be relieved of making a decision because the course in front of him would be clear – he could put him to death for treason.

It is curious that even though Pilate has the authority to rule and the authority to judge, he wants to abdicate that responsibility in this instance. Even though history records that he is a vicious, uncompromising man, John depicts him as indecisive and at least a little bit concerned to do the right thing. In the end though, Pilate fails. He is unable to make the decision. The fact that he does not know the truth (ie that he cannot make right judgements) is exposed for all to see. Pilate was unable to make the distinction between right and wrong, he was not able to make the right choice between the angry crowd and the innocent man. Though he had authority over the people before him and as the person with authority was in a position to judge, in this instance at least he could not make the decision. in the final analysis, he could not make the choice to do what was right.

What is truth? Pilate’s question resonates throughout history and history records that by and large humanity is very poor at making the right judgements. In the end only God can truly distinguish between good and evil. As Christians, as those who claim to hear Jesus’ voice, we have the potential to be united with Jesus and have been promised the gift of the Holy Spirit who will lead us into all truth. There are no easy answers to Pilate’s question. In the end truth, right judgement belongs to God. If we seek the truth, we need to submerge our egos and deflate our arrogance. The more we confront our selfishness and self interest, the more we will be able to become one with Christ and the more easily will we be guided by the Holy Spirit. The best that we can do is to give ourselves over to God and do the best we can.

Do not be deceived

November 17, 2012

Pentecost 25

Mark 13:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who alone can distinguish evil from good. Amen.

Some of you (especially those of you who have computers) may have heard or seen this quiz question. If so I apologise. The question goes something like this: It is time to elect a new world leader. There are three leading candidates. Candidate A associates with crooked politicians and consults with astrologers. He has had two mistresses; chain smokes and drinks 8 – 10 martinis a day. Candidate B has been kicked out of office twice previously, he sleeps until noon, used opium in college and drinks about a quart of whisky every evening. Candidate C is a decorated war hero. He is a vegetarian. He doesn’t smoke and drinks only an occasional beer. If you were voting, which of the three would be your choice?

If you chose A – the corrupt chain smoker – you would have been voting for Franklin D. Roosevelt – former president of the United States of America. Candidate B is Winston Churchill – the whisky drinker who can’t get up before noon and former Prime Minister of Great Britain. At first glance, squeaky clean Candidate C, appears to be the obvious choice. That is, until you discover that the vegetarian war hero is none other than Adolf Hitler former Chancellor of Germany. The quiz is designed to remind us that the difference between good and evil is not always evident on the surface and not easily measured by human standards. Each of the three candidates had serious flaws, but only one turned out to be megalomaniac who systematically killed any opponents and who sent more than six million people to the gas chambers.

Throughout the ages there have always been people who, by the sheer force of their personality or skill with words are able to sway whole groups of people – sometimes to do things that in other circumstances they would not do. Hitler was one such person. By all accounts he was an unattractive man with few obvious skills. He spoke badly and yet, through his angry bluster, he managed to capture the imagination of the German people after the First World War.

It is when things are not going so well that people are most vulnerable to the promises of another and most susceptible to the influence of a strong leader. This was certainly the case in post-war Germany. It is well-known that the Treaty of Versailles left that nation with huge debts and no opportunity to re-build. It also left the Germans with a deep sense of resentment. At the same time, the emergence of communism to the east and within Germany itself was, to some, a cause of concern. In 1930 four million Germans were unemployed. Hitler’s rhetoric spoke to the situation of the German people and gave them comfort, a sense of hope for the future and restored their national pride. Hitler united the nation against a common enemy – Marxism and Jews. He played on the fear and insecurity of the German people and, when he spoke, he created a sense of drama and power that held his listeners in his grip. He would arrive late to speaking engagements thus increasing the anticipation of the audience and when he finally arrived, he would wait for complete silence before he began, intensifying the illusion of authority and power.

Jesus knew only too well that, in times of persecution and stress people – including his disciples – are more ready to believe in someone who promises salvation. He knows or guesses what lies ahead for his followers, what trials or tribulations can be expected and he wants them to be prepared. So he warns them: “Many will come in my name saying: ‘I am he’ and many will be deceived.” If his followers feel threatened or disempowered, if the present feels untenable and the future seems bleak Jesus is conscious that his disciples will be looking for answers and will be susceptible to those who offer a solution. He knows that it will not be easy even for his closest friends to distinguish true from false, the Son of Man from any other messianic pretender.

The past century has borne witness to rise of many strong and persuasive characters whose presence and speech have been able to inspire and influence thousands of people from all walks of life. Like Hitler, Martin Luther King and John F. Kennedy encapsulated the spirit of the American people. Such was the power of their words that their speeches are still quoted and recognised today. Another great orator, Billy Graham drew enormous crowds to his meetings and through his passionate sermons and emotive hymns stirred deep feelings in his audience and convinced them to give their lives to Jesus.

For good or for evil people like Hitler, Billy Graham, Martin Luther King and JFK stirred the hearts and minds of their generations and drew from them an almost unquestioning loyalty and devotion, a willingness to go wherever they would lead. As Jesus recognised twenty centuries ago, distinguishing the good from the bad is not always as self-evident as we would like to believe. Good people, including the churches were taken in by Hitler and caught up by his ability to convince them that he and he alone could solve the problems that beset their nation, that only he could re-build their country, restore their self-respect and regain their position on the world stage.

What makes the difference between a Hitler and a Billy Graham? A Gandhi or a Mugabe? All of them use powerful and emotive speeches to tug at the heartstrings of their listeners and to hold them in the palm of their hands. Both were able, as it were, to bend others to their will. The reactions of the crowds who heard them were much the same, yet Hitler was a force for evil and Billy Graham a force for good (or at least not for harm). History has demonstrated how easy it is to be deceived, how readily we allow ourselves to be led astray and how difficult it is to clearly distinguish between a Hitler and a JFK. Past experience shows us that we are not always clear as to what ideals we should be persuaded and there is plenty of evidence to suggest that when we are moved by a powerful speaker that we are not always able to discriminate between what serves our own self-interest and what serves the greater good.

In today’s gospel, Jesus’ disciples ask him for a sign. In response he warns them to be cautious, not to be taken in by everyone who claims to have a hold on the truth. In its context, Jesus’ warning relates to the coming of the end, but it is a warning that holds true for every age and every situation. History has proven Jesus’ anxiety to be warranted – people, including his own followers are easily led astray.

As today’s gospel implies – there are no easy solutions, no quick fixes. Being a disciple of Jesus doesn’t mean that life will go smoothly, just that Jesus will be with us. If and when we face trials and tribulations, we must be careful not to follow those who offer us a way out, but instead face all difficulties head on, confident that the Holy Spirit will not abandon us. Others may inspire us, some may persuade us, but only Jesus can lead us to where we are intended to go.

Taking risks, trusting God

November 10, 2012

Pentecost 24

Mark 12:38-44    http://bible.oremus.org

Marian Free

 In the name of God who sees all things. Amen.

 I’ve been re-watching the TV series Scrubs  – a comedy which follows four young doctors as they begin their working life. One of the things that I like about the programme is that the characters are so complex and therefore believable. In fact, most of the characters are quite seriously flawed.  For example, Elliot, one of the young doctors, is totally neurotic and incredibly insecure about her looks and about her medical skills. She constantly worries about what other people think about her. In one episode she begins going out with a nurse. The relationship begins quite well but doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. A major problem is that Elliot is trying so hard not to let Paul know how crazy she is, that she continues to put up barriers which means that the relationship remains superficial. It is only when she lets her guard down and allows Paul to see the real Elliot that they can move forward.

The sanest and most secure of the four interns is Chris Turk, known as Turk. Turk is in love with Carla who thinks she knows how everyone else should run their lives and has no hesitation in sharing her thoughts with them. On one occasion – despite Turk’s advice – she tells a senior doctor that he shouldn’t be getting back together with his ex-wife because they are no good for each other. When she is proven to be wrong, she sees herself clearly for the first time and is surprised that instead of being insightful as she has always thought, she is bossy and interfering. As a consequence she falls into despondency and tells Turk that never again will she tell anyone what to do. His response is wonderful. He says: “Yes you will, and it doesn’t matter because I love you.” It doesn’t matter because I love you.

It is not always easy to be open and honest about ourselves or to ourselves. Especially when we are young we worry what others think about us, afraid that they will not like us if they see us as we really are. We put up defensive barriers to keep people out or we act out roles in the hope that we will fool people into believing that we are clever or brave or whatever it is that we think we are not but that we should be. On the other hand we may be genuinely blind to parts of ourselves and recognising our faults can be painful process. However, as our fictional stories remind us, if we take the risk that we will be accepted and that others will continue to love us even if we are opinionated or timid, insecure or bossy, we will stop being afraid to be who we are. Our lives will be freer and fuller because we will no longer be wasting time hiding our true selves, worrying that others don’t like us or beating ourselves up because we fall short of our own expectations. What is more, when we love ourselves and allow ourselves to be loved for who we are, it is then that we can begin to be transformed into the person we would like to be.

For at least the past 1,000 years, members of the church in England have begun their worship with the following words: “Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known and from whom no secrets are hidden ..”  Week after week, year after year, we say what is perhaps the most terrifying prayer that we will ever utter. That is, every time we come to the Eucharist, the first thing that we do is to acknowledge that before God our very souls are laid bare. The secrets of our hearts, our hidden longings, our anger, disappointment, pettiness and resentment are exposed to God’s sight. There is nothing that God does not know about us and no place in which to hide.

I sometimes wonder that we can pray these words so blithely, that we don’t cringe under our pews or fall to our knees in fear. Surely few of us can bear that sort of scrutiny! And yet we are here, and once again, with heads held reasonably high, we have spoken the words which remind us that all that we are – the good, the bad and the ugly – is known to God. We are able to pray these words because for us they are not terrifying. Our faith not only allows us we have faith to see ourselves as God sees but also informs us that God loves us as we are.

These two factors – self acceptance and the knowledge of God’s unconditional love – are at the heart of the faith experience. More than that, these are the ingredients of an authentic life and an authentic faith – a life lived without falsehood and pretence and a relationship with God and with others that is utterly and sometimes, horribly real.

You might notice that Jesus’ harshest condemnation is reserved for hypocrites. In Matthew’s gospel Jesus rages and rages against the hypocrisy of the scribes and the Pharisees. “Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” Jesus says over and over again. And today, Jesus criticises the scribes who are more concerned with appearance and status than they are with God. They hope that their long robes and long prayers will hide their lack of compassion and their self-interest. The have failed to understand that they can hide nothing from God and that a real relationship is an honest relationship.

God doesn’t want a relationship with our public self, a relationship that is limited by obstacles that are put up, games that are played, or falsehoods that are perpetuated. God wants a relationship with our real self – that part of us that is scarred and imperfect. God wants us to trust him that however frail, however flawed we are God’s love will never, ever be withdrawn.

We can’t fool God, so there is really no point in trying. However embarrassing, however humiliating, however nasty our real self is – that is the self that God had a hand in creating, the self that God loves and the self with which God wants to be in relationship.

Opening ourselves to another can be a terrifying and risky thing to do, but the reward is a deep and authentic relationship in which all barriers are removed and we can be our true selves. The widow trusted God with everything  she had– maybe we can trust God with everything that we are.