Posts Tagged ‘connection’

Abiding in the vine

May 3, 2024

Easter 5 – 2024

John 15:9-17 (some thoughts from Brazil)

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whose love connects us to each other and to God. Amen.

To my shame and embarrassment, I am guilty of being someone who, in the mid to late1970’s, felt that that the life of the church would be much improved if we got rid of the ‘dead wood’. It is a long time ago, but it was a time when there was a widely held opinion that the church community needed to take itself and its commitment to the gospel more seriously. One of the major institutional changes at that time was an insistence that those seeking baptism for their children should be practicing church-goers, that they should undergo preparation for said baptism (to make sure that they really understood what they were doing) and that the sacrament of Baptism should only be administered in the context of a service of Holy Communion (when the whole community were gathered to welcome the child into their midst).

The zeitgeist of the time seemed to be that for many people their association with the church was social, sentimental, or historic and that the task of the church was to place such a focus on regular church attendance and faith development, that the church would consist of those who truly took their faith seriously (and that it would therefore grow).

Sadly, those well-meaning attempts by self-righteous people backfired. Instead of encouraging families seeking baptism to deepen their faith, attempts to get people to take the sacrament seriously had the consequence of turning them away from the church. They were were confused and hurt to realise that a church which had once encouraged baptism (no strings attached) was now putting up barriers designed to exclude them. Our emptying churches are testimony that to the effect that our efforts were fruitless.

Thankfully while I was guilty of joining the discussion about dead wood, I was in no position to exclude or to shame others who were not as enthusiastic about their church attendance and not as keen to be on endless committees as were the committed few. As a newly ordained person I understood that those seeking baptism for their children had a genuine desire to connect their child to the faith and I came to the realisation that it was God’s sacrament not mine and that my role was to accept that people came to God in their own way and did not have to fulfill my, or anyone else’s, expectations.

As I grew into ministry, (in other words, as my experience broadened), I came to see that there were many ways in which people connected to the church and that my own practice of weekly attendance was only one way of demonstrating a desire to be a part of the Christian community.

I observed the men who faithfully mowed lawns and kept the church grounds neat – but never darkened the doors of the church, the Guild members who ensured that there was always enough money for candles, linen, bread and wine – but who for one reason or another did not attend the Sunday service,  and the families who ‘religiously’ turned up at Christmas and Easter – but who at other times were nowhere to be seen. All were demonstrating a desire to being connected – albeit in different ways.

In the faithful observance of these people, I learned a valuable lesson – that the Christian community does not have a sacred centre to which everyone must belong. Rather it consists of concentric circles, widening out from the centre like ripples in a pond. Each circle contributes to the whole in its own way. No one circle is more important, more holy than other. Together they present the face of Christ in the world.

Jesus’ image of the vine seems to support this point of view. Staying connected to the vine, keeping Jesus’ commandments, and a willingness, if called on, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends are all that one needs to do to bear much fruit, to ensure that Jesus’ joy is complete, and to know his joy in us.

Bearing fruit doesn’t depend on and having joy doesn’t consist of following neatly laid out prescriptions – attending church very Sunday, volunteering for the church fete (or other extraneous activity) or joining one or several committees. The all-important task for any of us is to be connected to the vine, to abide in Jesus and to allow Jesus to abide in us. If we do that, all else will follow.

 We don’t have to establish criteria for belonging. We don’t have to set ourselves up as judge and jury of the depth of another’s faith. Our task is to make (and tend) our own connection to Christ and trust that that is enough.

Being seen

October 29, 2022

Pentecost 21 -2022
Luke 19:1-10
Marian Free
In the name of God, Earthmaker, Painbearer, Lifegiver. Amen

When we read the Bible in small portions, as we do on a Sunday morning, we often miss the crucial connections and the patterns that are carefully constructed by the authors. For example, each gospel is a beautifully crafted piece of literature in which the life and teaching of Jesus is presented according to the message that the author wants the listener to hear. So, you might notice that Matthew gathers the sayings of Jesus into the Sermon on the mount. In Luke’s gospel the same material is divided. Half can be found in the Sermon on the Plain. The remaining sayings are reserved for Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem and for Jesus privately teaching his disciples. Matthew and Luke use the same material in different ways because they have different purposes in writing.

When, for reasons of convenience or time, we separate the gospels into smaller parts, we often miss the context of what we are reading and therefore the author’s intention in placing the saying, story or parable where he does. Breaking the gospels into easily digestible pieces often begins in our Sunday Schools in which stories that are deemed suitable for children are over-simplified and stripped of the wealth of meaning that they contain. Whether for consumption during our Sunday liturgies, or for the children in our midst, many of the best-known stories from our gospels are often reduced to catch phrases – the prodigal son, the rich young man, the good Samaritan – which are not only easy to remember but which become short-hand for what is believed to be the essence of Jesus’ teaching in these accounts/parables.

We become so used to these short-hand ways of referring to biblical stories that it can be difficult to undo their long-held truisms. Such was the case when I came to the story of Zacchaeus this week. Is there anything new to be said, I wondered. I was caught by surprise then, when the commentary by Chelsea Harmon, provided a new perspective and helped me to see that the story of Zacchaeus was intricately connected to the stories in last week’s gospel and that the conclusion that I reached in last week’s blog was as relevant for this Sunday as it was for last Sunday. Indeed Luke 18:9-26 seems to form a unit with Luke 19:10. In the former, Jesus tells the parable about the two who go to the Temple to pray – one a self-righteous Pharisee who congratulates himself on his good behaviour and shows contempt for those who are not like him; the other a tax collector who beats his breast and asks for mercy. Jesus then warns his listeners that: “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it” (18:17). Finally, Luke records Jesus’ encounter with the rich ruler who wants Jesus to reassure him that he is doing all that is required to inherit eternal life.

At first glance this parable, teaching and encounter seem to have nothing in common, but, when combined with Jesus’ encounter with Zacchaeus, a common thread becomes obvious. Salvation, inheriting eternal life has nothing to do with what we do (or who we are), and everything to do with what God does (or who God is). Salvation/inheriting eternal life is not dependent on how good we are (and certainly has nothing to do with how good we think we are) but on our willingness to rely – not on ourselves but on God. The Pharisee smugly thought that he had achieved what it took to inherit eternal life because he was not a thief, a rogue or an adulterer. The rich ruler thought that obeying the commandments was all that he needed to do to gain eternal life. Neither realized or accepted their need for God.

In comparison, the tax-collector, aware of his short-comings threw himself on the mercy of God and children who do not over-think things take it for granted that they are loved and that they belong. The tax-collector consciously places his trust in God (not himself). Sub-consciously, children do the same.

As if to make it clear that salvation is dependent on God and not on ourselves, Luke adds to this collection the account of Jesus’ meeting with Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus the tax-collector. Zacchaeus who has thrown in his lot with the Roman oppressors. Zacchaeus who may well have enriched himself at the expense of his fellow countrymen and women. Zacchaeus with whom Jesus must stay that very day!

We are told that Zacchaeus has heard that Jesus is passing through Jericho and, for reasons that are not clear, is determined to see him. This is not as easy as it seems. Zacchaeus is short, there is a crowd, and he is a person not deserving of respect. The crowd is unlikely to make space for him. His solution is undignified, but he is too eager to care. He runs ahead and climbs a tree. He does not expect to be seen. (Indeed, he may wish to remain unseen given the unseemly nature of his being in a tree). Zacchaeus simply wants to see Jesus. Yet, Jesus does see him. Jesus sees, stops, and demands that Zacchaeus come down. Jesus insists that he must stay with Zacchaeus. Indeed, as the Greek says, it is necessary that Jesus stay at Zacchaeus’ house that day.

Zacchaeus did not need to be “perfect, or sinless, or holy or righteous first.” There was no standard or ideal that Zacchaeus had to reach in order for Jesus to invite himself in. (Zacchaeus’ generosity was in response to Jesus’ acceptance, it did not earn him Jesus’ respect.) Zacchaeus was anything but perfect, but he was seen.

God sees us. God sees us all. God sees us for who we are, with all our failings and imperfections, with all our insecurities and fears. God sees us and God invites Godself in. God sees us, it is necessary for God to stay with us today. All we have to do is to make space and to welcome God into our lives.

We don’t have to be perfect. There is no gold standard that is the requirement for eternal life. We don’t have to do anything except come down from our trees of self-sufficiency, self-interest, and self-doubt. God has done and will do all the rest.

True blessedness

February 12, 2022

Epiphany 6 – 2022
Luke 6:17-26
Marian Free

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

At the end of last year, at a time when there was a great panic about Rapid Antigen Tests, I bought a pack online. Later, when it seemed as though such things were going to be impossible to obtain I thought that as the first purchase had been so straight forward I should buy some more. After all, I was going to be responsible for babysitting all the grandchildren whose parents might be comforted in the knowledge that their children were unlikely to contract the Omicron variant of COVID as a result of being in my care. If I had any symptoms I could simply do a test! Now that the peak of infections has passed, children are eligible for vaccinations and restrictions are being eased I find myself in the embarrassing possession of unused RATS.

Today’s gospel has given me a great deal of cause for thought about my behaviour and its significance. I find myself asking whether my need was really so great that I needed to purchase so many tests? As it turns out, I haven’t benefitted from having them. In retrospect I now understand that it is possible that someone missed out because I was in a position – financially and otherwise – to ensure that I was covered. In my anxiety to protect myself and my family I had failed to consider the consequences to others if I had more than necessary and what I might do with more than enough.

One of the problems in managing the pandemic world-wide has been this sort of self-centred, nationalistic approach to the situation. In January 2020, the WHO made it clear to an anxious world that a universal rather than local tactic would bring the pandemic to an early end. WHO urged first world nations to ensure that all nations have equal access to vaccines so that we could knock the virus on its head and avoid the long-drawn out consequences of new variants emerging. Yet, while the situation has been made more complex by a number of other issues, by and large, those nations who could afford to purchase the vaccines have ensured that their nations have had enough (more than enough) to go around, while third-world nations have gone without.

In today’s gospel, Jesus speaks directly to this problem – the problem of who we are, on what do we base our identity and where do we fit in the world? In essence, Jesus is encouraging his listeners to ask themselves who they are and on what basis have they come to that conclusion? Against whom and against what do the disciples measure themselves and with and to whom are they connected?

The Beatitudes, whether pronounced on the mountain as in Matthew, or on the plain, as here in Luke, are in direct contradiction with what is normal human nature – the drive to survive at all costs, to avoid pain and suffering and to compare our situation against that of others. Jesus confronts our idea of is what “normal” and insists that an individualist focus and individualist behaviours will take us down the path of woe and not of blessing. In other words, he is suggesting that focussing on ourselves and on our own well-being is harmful not only to those around us, but also to ourselves. If we are driven by our own need for satisfaction and comfort, if we spend our lives trying to avoid suffering and pain and if we amass more than we really need, the consequences will not be blessedness, but will be isolation from others, indifference to the experiences of others and, ultimately, the cause of hurt to others. Furthermore, self-reliance, the belief that we can shield ourselves from harm, is futile. None of us, no matter how rich or privileged can escape the traumas and accidents that life throws at us.

In naming who is and is not blessed Jesus is challenging those things that collectively we have accepted as identity markers and has shown how ineffectual and self-centred they are and how they disconnect us from our fellow human beings. It is only when we truly understand the interconnectedness between ourselves and every other person (dare I say every other living thing), that we will begin to understand that our contentedness and sense of well-being is tied to the well-being of others. We will never be truly blessed if our blessedness comes at the expense of someone else’s blessedness and we will never be truly at peace if our idea of peace comes at the cost of competition – for resources or for security.

Jesus’ words are not easy to hear, let alone act upon. Most of us find it hard to let go of the need to quantify his words/our situation. How poor do we really need to be? we wonder. Does Jesus really intend us to be destitute, starving, and grief-stricken and if so what sort of life would that be? In asking such questions, we fail to see is that Jesus is not suggesting that we develop a scale against which to measure ourselves, but that we enlarge our thinking such that our concept of blessedness embraces the totality of our experiences (good, bad and indifferent) – all of which enrich and enhance our lives. At the same time, Jesus knows that once we are able to dispense with a scale of “blessedness”, we will be open to see how our blessedness is tied up with the blessedness of every other person in the world.

The Beatitudes are anything but comfortable words – especially for those of us privileged enough to live in a nation such as ours. Jesus’ words are designed to stretch and challenge us and – God forbid! – change us. We do not have to make ourselves poor, hungry or sad, but neither should we shy away from such experiences for it is they that form us and humble us and unite us to every living person and ultimately to the one who created us all.