Posts Tagged ‘competition’

What is temptation?

February 25, 2023

Lent 1 – 2023 (Notes)
Matthew 4:1-11
Marian Free

In the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier. Amen.

I wonder what comes to your mind when you think of sin? I know a number of people who associate sin with breaking one of the Ten Commandments. A phrase that I have often heard is: ‘I don’t need to come to church, I am a good person, I don’t break the Ten Commandments.” When they say this, they are usually referring to the last six of the Ten Commandments – those that refer to murder, lying, adultery, murder, envy, honouring one’s parents and stealing. The problem with this attitude is twofold. Firstly, the these six commandments are relatively easy for most of us to keep. Secondly, they are the ground rules for living together in relative harmony. They are not unique to the Judea-Christian tradition, but are common to most cultures.
It is the first four commandments that are challenging and which people who consider themselves to be ‘good, Christian people’ seem to overlook. ‘I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol. You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God. Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy.’ The first four commandments have to do with our relationship with God, the last six, with our relationships with each other. The first four demand an exclusive relationship with the God who brought the Israelites out of Egypt, loyalty to the one true God. The others have to do with our relationships with each other. One could go so far as to argue that it is only the former that have to do with faith. The latter are common sense, practical rules to guide our lives together. (Going to church is not a prerequisite for keeping them.)
Unfortunately, the institution of the church has contributed to this oversimplified view of sin. Many of us grew up in a church culture that emphasised goodness over faithfulness. We were led to believe that God wanted us to behave and not taught that what God really wants is to be in relationship with us. This has led to a trivialisation of ‘sin’; a belief that ‘sin’ is misbehaviour and that earning God’s approval is a matter of being good, keeping the rules. As long as we don’t commit the big ticket crimes, we can assure ourselves that God is happy with us and that all is well with the world.
‘Sin’ properly understood is separation from, or competition with, God. This is clear from the very beginning. The first sin, that of eating the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, was just that – wanting to be like God, wanting to be God. There is only one tree forbidden to Adam and Eve. It is not the tree of life, but the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. As the serpent points out if they eat of the fruit of that tree: “You will not die; or God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:4,5). The first sin, was was not so much simple disobedience, it was the desire to be God, a desire that is played out again when the Hebrew people build the Tower of Babel.
Murder is a crime, lying, stealing and adultery hurt those whom we deceive or rob, envy eats away at us and failure to honour those who gave us life is a particular sort of selfishness, but believing that we can be God, failing to trust God (creating another kind of security net), or looking for quick fixes are the real sins that separate us from God and ultimately from each other.
These are the temptations that Jesus faces in the wilderness. Jesus is not tempted to steal or lie or to commit adultery. There is no little devil on his shoulder suggesting that he have a second helping of chocolate pudding (or some other trivial test of his character or will power). Jesus is being tempted to give in to those parts of his human nature that would destroy his relationship with God – pride, self-sufficiency and a desire for personal power. If he were to change stones into bread – which of course he could do – he would be demonstrating a reliance on himself rather than trust in God. If he were to throw himself off the steeple, he would be revealing that he saw God as a ‘rescuer’, a deliverer of ‘quick fixes’. If he were to bow down and worship the devil, he would be implying that God was not sufficient.
The temptations in the wilderness had nothing to do with our normal understanding of temptation, but with sin in the true sense of the word – separation from, distrust of and competition with God.
The three temptations can be summed up as: Stones into bread – ‘I can do it! (I don’t need God)’, throwing oneself off the cliff – God is only any good, when God performs miracles and, bowing before Satan – real power doesn’t belong to God.
This Lent, when you think again about what you might give up, what temptations your might resist think of the temptations faced by Jesus and ask yourself not whether or not you will be tempted to eat chocolate, but whether, put to the test, you would hold firm in your faith and resist the lure of self-sufficiency, quick fixes and ‘easy’ power.

What is temptation?

February 25, 2023

Lent 1 – 2023 (Notes)
Matthew 4:1-11
Marian Free

In the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier. Amen.

I wonder what comes to your mind when you think of sin? I know a number of people who associate sin with breaking one of the Ten Commandments. A phrase that I have often heard is: ‘I don’t need to come to church, I am a good person, I don’t break the Ten Commandments.” When they say this, they are usually referring to the last six of the Ten Commandments – those that refer to murder, lying, adultery, murder, envy, honouring one’s parents and stealing. The problem with this attitude is twofold. Firstly, the these six commandments are relatively easy for most of us to keep. Secondly, they are the ground rules for living together in relative harmony. They are not unique to the Judea-Christian tradition, but are common to most cultures.
It is the first four commandments that are challenging and which people who consider themselves to be ‘good, Christian people’ seem to overlook. ‘I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol. You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God. Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy.’ The first four commandments have to do with our relationship with God, the last six, with our relationships with each other. The first four demand an exclusive relationship with the God who brought the Israelites out of Egypt, loyalty to the one true God. The others have to do with our relationships with each other. One could go so far as to argue that it is only the former that have to do with faith. The latter are common sense, practical rules to guide our lives together. (Going to church is not a prerequisite for keeping them.)
Unfortunately, the institution of the church has contributed to this oversimplified view of sin. Many of us grew up in a church culture that emphasised goodness over faithfulness. We were led to believe that God wanted us to behave and not taught that what God really wants is to be in relationship with us. This has led to a trivialisation of ‘sin’; a belief that ‘sin’ is misbehaviour and that earning God’s approval is a matter of being good, keeping the rules. As long as we don’t commit the big ticket crimes, we can assure ourselves that God is happy with us and that all is well with the world.
‘Sin’ properly understood is separation from, or competition with, God. This is clear from the very beginning. The first sin, that of eating the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, was just that – wanting to be like God, wanting to be God. There is only one tree forbidden to Adam and Eve. It is not the tree of life, but the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. As the serpent points out if they eat of the fruit of that tree: “You will not die; or God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:4,5). The first sin, was was not so much simple disobedience, it was the desire to be God, a desire that is played out again when the Hebrew people build the Tower of Babel.
Murder is a crime, lying, stealing and adultery hurt those whom we deceive or rob, envy eats away at us and failure to honour those who gave us life is a particular sort of selfishness, but believing that we can be God, failing to trust God (creating another kind of security net), or looking for quick fixes are the real sins that separate us from God and ultimately from each other.
These are the temptations that Jesus faces in the wilderness. Jesus is not tempted to steal or lie or to commit adultery. There is no little devil on his shoulder suggesting that he have a second helping of chocolate pudding (or some other trivial test of his character or will power). Jesus is being tempted to give in to those parts of his human nature that would destroy his relationship with God – pride, self-sufficiency and a desire for personal power. If he were to change stones into bread – which of course he could do – he would be demonstrating a reliance on himself rather than trust in God. If he were to throw himself off the steeple, he would be revealing that he saw God as a ‘rescuer’, a deliverer of ‘quick fixes’. If he were to bow down and worship the devil, he would be implying that God was not sufficient.
The temptations in the wilderness had nothing to do with our normal understanding of temptation, but with sin in the true sense of the word – separation from, distrust of and competition with God.
The three temptations can be summed up as: Stones into bread – ‘I can do it! (I don’t need God)’, throwing oneself off the cliff – God is only any good, when God performs miracles and, bowing before Satan – real power doesn’t belong to God.
This Lent, when you think again about what you might give up, what temptations your might resist think of the temptations faced by Jesus and ask yourself not whether or not you will be tempted to eat chocolate, but whether, put to the test, you would hold firm in your faith and resist the lure of self-sufficiency, quick fixes and ‘easy’ power.

God has no favourites

August 27, 2022

Pentecost 12 – 2022
Luke 14:1, 7-14
Marian Free

In the name of God who has created us all and who has no favourites. Amen.

Imagine that your niece (or close friend) is being married. You receive your invitation to the wedding and the reception. When you arrive at the church you know just where to sit – on the bride’s side and, because you are close family, somewhere near the front. Similarly, at the reception you can confidently expect that the bridal party (sometimes including the parents of the couple) will occupy the top table. Then, depending on the layout of the room, you will be seated somewhere close. Distant relatives and friends will be placed on the tables furthest from the bride and groom. At least that is what the normal social protocol would dictate.

Now imagine a different scenario. You hear that your niece (friend) is to be married. The time for the invitations comes and goes and you do not receive an invitation. No doubt you are confused, distressed, and probably offended, but perhaps – you think – it is going to be a small wedding – immediate family only. Notwithstanding, you attend the ceremony intending to sit near the back, out of the way. Imagine your confusion when you arrive to discover that the church is full – not with family and friends – but with complete strangers, people who do not fit your nieces’ social profile at all. I imagine that your sense of self and of your place in the world would be seriously challenged!

At first glance the parable in today’s gospel seems to be pointing out the obvious. As it is now, so it was then – there are/were conventions that dictated where people would sit at a social event. In the first century, when public behaviour was governed by notions honour and shame a dinner guest would have been very careful not to presume to take a place of honour. Being moved to a lower place would have been utterly humiliating and would have seriously lessened one’s status in the community. Guests in that time would no more choose their places at the table than would wedding guests in our century. Jesus seems to be stating the obvious.

What this means, is that the parable is not as many preachers and readers assume, a lesson in humility. As in the first century so now, guests at a function expect that their host will have determined where they should sit, and they would not risk humiliation by placing themselves somewhere else. At first glance, then, the parable has nothing to tell us – no one would place themselves higher than their position – in society, in their family – would dictate. That said, we have to remember that the author states that “Jesus told a parable”, and that the purpose of a parable is to shock us or to force us into a different way of seeing. So, if this account of a banquet is not simply a piece of worldly wisdom, what is it?
The clue, I believe lies in the comment Jesus makes to his host after he tells the parable, and which makes up the second part of this morning’s reading. Taken together with the parable, Jesus’ comment makes it clear that Jesus is using an example from our earthly life and contrasting it with life in the kingdom. We might devise concentric circles of relationship and order people (family, friends, and strangers) according to our own categories – familial relationship, friendship, wealth, or prestige – but God makes no distinction. We might compete among ourselves for recognition or status, but no amount of striving – to be better, richer, or more important – will make any difference to the way in which God already sees us.

Jesus is making the point that not only is it a waste of time to try to elevate ourselves before God (to determine of our own accord that we are more deserving of God’s attention than others), but also that so doing will only result in disappointment – not to mention acute embarrassment – when we discover that at God’s table all are welcome and all are valued equally.

Unlike us, God has no favourites. We don’t have to compete for God’s attention. We don’t have to shine in order to gain God’s esteem. We don’t have to do anything to be treasured by God. All the places at God’s table have equal value.

Until we truly understand this and take it to heart, we will continue to feel that we have to stand out in some way, to be better than our peers, to be more holy or to do more good works than they. In our attempt to justify ourselves – to prove to ourselves and to others that we are worthy of God’s love – we end up judging others as more or less deserving than ourselves. We create hierarchies of relationship in the same way that we do when it comes to seating arrangements at a wedding. When we are unsure of our place in God’s love, we are anxious to devise ways of measuring our worth and we do that by comparing ourselves with others. Conversely, when we truly accept that we precious in God’s sight, we begin to understand that God does not choose between God’s children but loves us equally. When we are secure of our place in God’s heart, we understand that there is no need to compete and, as a consequence, we do not begrudge God’s love for others.

In the kingdom there is no hierarchy of achievement or status, there is no inner circle of people who are preferenced over others, no ‘socially appropriate’ people who are a better fit – only the children of God, all of whom belong, and all of whom have a place at the table.

I think the point that is being made in today’s parable and Jesus subsequent comment to his host is this. “Don’t confuse earthly conventions with kingdom values” – in fact, “do what you can to subvert human values and norms, so that our present existence begins to look more and more like God’s future.” There are no hierarchies in the kingdom and all regardless of status, wealth or virtue are welcomed without condition.
What do we need to do to make those kingdom values a reality in our present situation?

God loves you and that’s all. you need to know

March 19, 2022

Lent 3 – 2022
Luke 13:1-9
Marian Free

In the name of God who has no favourites. Amen.

Last year, a number of Social Media platforms made the decision to allow users to choose whether or not to publicise the number of ‘likes’ that their post received. Prior to that action there had been a significant public outcry about the competitive nature of social media and the mental health problems that ensued. It seems that some users were not only comparing the number of followers that they had against other users, but that they were also competing with others as the number of people who ‘liked’ their posts. In some cases, this was leading to extreme behaviours in order to increase the number of people who viewed the posts – riding on the roofs of moving trains or taking photographs in other very dangerous situations or expressing controversial opinions whether they believed in them or not. In other instances, the competitive aspect of the media was leading some people to feel undervalued if their posts did not receive as much attention as those of their friends. If a person’s posts included ‘selfies’, the result of receiving less attention than others led to a poor body image and to the reduction a person’s self-confidence -sometimes to the point that a person experienced depression or worse, led to suicide.

It is easy to blame social media for this situation, but really social media has simply exaggerated and brought to the fore a behaviour that is integral to human nature. Competition between individuals, groups and nations is not new and, as the current situation in Ukraine illustrates, it can have catastrophic effects. Indeed, in the natural environment competition is essential to the survival of the species – male -male competition ensures that the stronger/smarter males mate with more females which in turn assures the continuation of the species.

Contrary to our ideals, the natural world is not benign and we – often to our detriment – are part of that world.

In today’s rather gory and obscure gospel, Jesus confronts this competitive way of thinking and living – particularly the sort of competition that vies for God’s attention and affection or which assumes that God plays favourites with those who behave in particular ways. It is difficult to say why Luke breaks into his gospel with this conversation between Jesus and ‘those present’. There is nothing to suggest that those who report the actions of Pilate are engaging in a game of ‘one-upmanship’, but Jesus’ response makes it clear that he thinks that they are telling him the story about the blood being mixed with sacrifices in order to reassure themselves that they will not suffer the same fate. They assume that the Galileans must have done something truly awful for God to punish them in this way.

Jesus’ answer makes it clear that God had nothing to do with the fate of the Galileans. He is clear that God does not measure us against one another. God doesn’t favour the ‘good’ over the ‘bad’. God does not have a scale against which to determine who is more (or less) deserving of reward (or punishment). In fact, Jesus knows that God has no expectation that any flawed human being will achieve perfection.

This apparent interruption to the flow of Luke’s account provides an important message for ourselves on this third Sunday of Lent. For in two thousand years little has changed. We are no different from those in Jesus’ audience. Like them, we (at least on occasion) fall into the practice of comparing ourselves with others, reassuring ourselves that however bad we are ‘at least we are not as bad as them’.

Jesus wants his listeners to come to their own conclusion, so he asks: ‘Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all other Galileans?’ or that those on whom the tower fell, ‘were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?’ Speaking to everyone who is present, Jesus continues: ‘Unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.’ In other words, Jesus makes clear (as he does elsewhere) that when it comes to sin, we are equals, no one is more (or less) deserving than anyone else. God does not care whether our sins are great or small, heinous or careless, what does matter is that we recognise that we are all sinners, and that we all fall short of the glory of God (Rom 3:23). In other words, instead of comparing ourselves (favourably) against others, Jesus encourages us to be honest about our own faults and determine to turn (repent) from the ways of the world and our self-absorption and to trust in God’s love and care for everyone.

The apparently unrelated parable of the fig tree illustrates just this point. Worldly, competitive values (represented by the landowner) dictate that results – productivity, justifying one’s existence, being better than those around you – are more important than relationships. Kingdom, non-competitive values (represented by the gardener) teach us that – nurture, patience, understanding individual capabilities and needs – are of more importance than individualism and competition.

God knows and loves each one of us – just as we are – and, when we don’t live up to our potential, God patiently and lovingly gives us a little more care – hoping, believing that we will (however good or bad we may be) come good in the end.

We are all (sinner and saint) equal in the eyes of God, equally valued, equally treasured and God will (as God already has) do everything to ensure that we enter God’s kingdom.

It is not God who excludes us, but we through our mistaken belief that God has standards that we fail to meet, who exclude ourselves.

How long will it take for us to trust in God’s love for us? How long before we understand that we are already laid bare and cannot hide our true selves from God? How long before instead of living in fear of judgement, we live in joyful anticipation of Jesus’ coming again?

God loves you and that is all that you need to know and if you know that, you will accept that God loves everyone.

Cooperation not competition

August 31, 2019

Pentecost 12 – 2019

Luke 14:1 (2-6) 7-14

Marian Free

In the name of God who has no favourites. Amen.

I believe that in Japan and Korea today, children as young as four are enrolled in special schools designed to give them an advantage with regard to getting themselves into the right primary schools, which in turn will gain them entry into the high schools that will ensure their acceptance into university. A recent report on the ABC asked the question as to whether athletes in the future would be genetically selected – that is, would the Australian Institute of Sport choose children who were genetically equipped to run, to swim or to play tennis and begin to train them from a very early age . Instagram has just removed the “like” function from its app because too many young people were becoming distressed if their post did not compare favourably with those of others.

We live in a world that is dominated by competition, by a desire to prove ourselves, to enrich ourselves or to gain power for ourselves. Everyone, it seems, wants to be better than everyone else – whether it is a desire to fill our emptiness, to build our self-esteem or to expand our authority. Despite our relative wealth and education, we seem to be constantly anxious that we are not good enough, significant enough or clever enough and so we seek external signs to prove our worth to ourselves if not to others.

One of the consequences of such a competitive environment is a constant striving for what we are not or what we do not have rather than contentment with what is already ours. Another is the temptation to constantly judge ourselves against others, with the result that we feel a certain satisfaction when we come across someone who is not as fast, not as rich, not as fast as ourselves. Even worse is that coming first – in our careers, in our bank accounts, in our spheres of influence – very often comes at the expense of someone else. On an international level, on a national level and a community and personal level, competition for resources, means that few have more and many have less. At best competition leads to isolation and introversion and at worst competition leads to civil strife and to war, oppression and injustice.

In a recent speech, Sam Wells (the Vicar of St Martin’s in the Fields) pointed out that for too long we (the church) have concentrated on the things that make us different “where we have come from” or how we come to have a particular point of view . He suggests that our focus should instead be on what we what we have in common, in particular the belief that, as Paul suggests, “we are citizens of heaven” (Phil 3:20). Our focus, he claims, should not be on the past, but on the future and, in particular how that future impacts upon the present. By this he means that all of us, no matter what our theology or our place in the world should be trying to live now as we expect to live in heaven.

In Jesus’ time, as in ours, there was competition for status which, at a dinner party, determined where and next to whom one sat and whom one did or did not invite. Jesus turns both of these cultural norms on their head in today’s gospel. In the first instance he suggests that it is not our place to determine where we fit in a crowd of people. It is better not to measure ourselves against others as only the host (one assumes this is God) knows where we belong. Secondly, Jesus challenges those rich enough to hold a dinner party to invite those who will not increase his (her) status in the community, but to invite those who will not only compromise his (her) status, but who will be unable to return the favour.

A heavenly existence is one that refuses to be determined by the values of this world. It resists the temptation to pit one person against another or to determine where someone fits in a hierarchy of worth. A heavenly existence is inclusive of all people – rich and poor, clever and not so clever, great athletes and those who cannot play sport to save themselves. In heaven the marginalised, the differently abled, the refugee, the addict, the homeless will be welcomed along with everyone else. There will be no distinction.

When we truly understand that God’s love is not withheld from those whom we consider less deserving, when we realise that we are all invited to the heavenly banquet, we will accept that there are no places at God’s table, that everyone – those who have led exemplary lives and those that have not, those who have been conventionally “good” and those who have tested the boundaries will be seated together. And when we truly grasp that Jesus calls us to live our heavenly existence in the present, we will find it more and more difficult to make distinctions with or to measure ourselves against others.

A heavenly existence is one that enables us to see clearly and to recognise that, in common with everyone around us, that we have weaknesses as well as strengths, that a focus on material wealth might cover our spiritual poverty and that measuring ourselves and our achievements against those of others degrades both our self and the other.

A heavenly existence replaces competition with cooperation and enables us to see ourselves for who we are and to see the worth in every other person.

Identity crisis

August 8, 2015

Pentecost 11 – 2015

John 6:35,41-51

Marian Free 

In the name of God, source of all being, giver of all that is good. Amen.

Our recent trip to Israel was incredibly rewarding, but also very disturbing. Among other things I was disillusioned by the presence of the Christian church, in particular the partisanship and the competition for the tourist dollar. The major denominations in particular the Catholics and Orthodox, having vied for their piece of the Holy Land, hold on to it for all their worth. I could give you several examples of stories that filled me with despair, but I will limit myself to just one. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem has no fewer than six custodians – the Greek Orthodox, the Armenian Apostolic, and Roman Catholic Churches as well as the Coptic, Armenian and Syriac Orthodox Churches. The church itself is divided between all six denominations with some shared areas. When we were there the Catholic Franciscans were preparing for Evensong, which they observe before the Russian Orthodox so as to be sure of a free run of the church. Had we stayed longer, we would have observed them scuffling with the Greek Orthodox whose procession was competing for the same space. It left me wondering what the church was really about and whether it really mattered who had the largest slice of the cake.

The experience confirmed something that I already thought – that today’s church, (and dare I say it, yesterday’s church) – has an identity crisis. It seems at times that we no longer really know who we are. We are not so sure of our place in the world or even in our communities. We are uncertain of our role and as a result we have no real direction. I wonder whether, like the church in the Holy Land, we too are concerned to protect and to hold on to what we have and whether we are struggling to preserve the institution of the church as much as we are trying to share the good news of Jesus Christ.

It used to be so much easier. There was a time when we didn’t have to struggle, a time when everyone knew who we were and what we stood for, a time when we were respected, a time when it was clear that we did some good in the world, a time when we didn’t have to explain or defend ourselves. Sadly today, in the eyes of many, the church is a spent force – at best an anachronism, at worst a laughing stock.

There are now at least two generations of Australians who have had little or no relationship with the church. Ask a class of nine year olds what happened at Easter and you are more likely to be told that Jesus was born (or died) than you are that Jesus rose from the dead.

Not only have we lost our place in the world, we seem to have lost our way. For centuries we were able to be complacent. We could take it for granted that most people knew whom we were and what we were about. Our children (even those who did not attend church) learnt the stories of the faith at school and Christianity provided some sort of moral compass for the world at large. During the colonial era there was a flurry of activity on the mission field as we sought to impose our beliefs on others, but at home we relied on the culture of the day to pass on the faith to others. We took for granted that we were part of the establishment and failed to reflect sufficiently on what it takes to share the good news.

So now we have an identity crisis. Others can now offer what we thought that we had to offer. Many of the services that used to be provided exclusively by the church are now equally the province of secular entities. The government can legislate for good behaviour and can provide social welfare, health care and education and non-government agencies can provide overseas aid. It begs the question: who are we, and what is our role? What do we have to offer that is unique and attractive to today’s world.

This morning’s gospel is in part about identity. Jesus’ listeners cannot get past the fact that Jesus is Joseph’s son. They can see and grasp Jesus’ earthly existence after all they know his mother and his father. Their problem is that they cannot begin to get a handle on his heavenly origins. How can the man whom they see before them have come down from heaven? For them, it is much easier to focus on the material and the physical than to grasp what Jesus is saying – that in his very person heaven has broken into the present, that the barriers the material and the spiritual have been destroyed and that the boundaries between the present and the future have been irrevocably broken for those who are able to comprehend who and what Jesus is.

I wonder sometimes if this is at the heart of our problem – if this is the reason why our churches are no longer full and why people no longer come to us for answers. I wonder if we have found it is easier to focus on the physical and the earthly, on things that can be observed and measured than to point to what cannot be seen and to direct others to realities that are beyond this existence. Yet this is the core of our identity – our understanding that faith in Jesus opens the door to a life beyond this, that for those who have faith the present is radically changed by the in-breaking of God into the world and that we no longer driven by hunger and thirst for something more, because we have found in Jesus all that gives life meaning and value. We do not have rely on the achievements of the past or worry about the uncertainty of the future, because we know that the past no longer has a hold on us and that our future is assured.

While we worry about the survival of the church, there are many in the world who hunger and thirst for meaning, who are looking for relationships that are more than superficial and searching for an assurance that their life has value. It is our responsibility to provide that meaning, our task to reveal the spiritual in the midst of the material and our role to demonstrate in our own lives what it means that the future has broken-in and radically changed our view of the present.

Jesus gave his life, that we might have life. In our turn, we are called to give our lives that others might know what it is like to be truly alive.