And Jesus Stood Still

(Mark 10:46-52) How difficult it is for modern humans to be still! When was the last time you were really still? I don’t mean physically still but still at the centre of your being, deep down at ease with nothingness; a little while ago, a long time ago or never?

 

Riding the train into Melbourne I watched as people sat still, most not talking, most seemingly at rest. Yet this was not the case. Most had the white cords of distraction in their ears, were fiddling with the mobile communication device in their hands and sitting looking down in what appeared to be a permanent hunch, rarely were they in conversation, looking out the window or just sitting without doing anything.

 

When I got to Synod, Cheryl commented on the number of people whose heads were down, a soft blue glow lighting their faces as they stared at their mobile communication devices, reading messages, posting to their Facebook page or, heaven forbid, playing games. The gentleman across the aisle from me sent and received emails all the way through the Eucharist service, automatically responding on cue to the responses in the service!

 

I have written a small book on the experience of leading the students from Lindisfarne on 3-day silent retreats. I spoke to the publisher to see what they thought. The publishers representative said she had read it and it was excellent, but it won’t sell. I asked why? She said the idea of taking middle school students on 3-day retreats is to challenging and frightens people (adults, teachers, clergy).

 

It is sad that that seems to be so.

 

Brett Esaki in his article, ‘Desperately Seeking Silence” suggests that silence is the youth cultures unmet need.  And I would add, society at larges unmet need. He would say that those who wear the white cords in their ears do so to blanket out the noise of the world and to be alone with themselves. The music that they hear becomes a wall protecting them from the sounds of a world which is challenging, frightening and just a little bit foreign. My discussions with teenagers confirms this as the practice of young people in particular, all people in general.

 

Esaki suggests that ‘silence is the space and time to listen, where to listen is to learn, to allow one’s consciousness to transform, or to absorb.’ Silence responds to sound, it is not the absence of sound. Sound creates the environment in which silence can grow and become. Being still in the midst of noise gives permission for us to unshackle ourselves from the noise and note the learning, the message, the insight or reflections present in us and in the world.

 "The day Jesus came to Jericho Bartimaeus was sitting and waiting. All the longing in his heart cried out, and though the disciples couldn’t see past his blind eyes and his beggar’s cup, Jesus heard what was in his heart, stood still and responded.” (With apologies to Nancy Rockwell)

Jesus encounters Bartimeaus in the midst of noise. If we close our eyes and imagine the scene on the road we may imagine Jesus is moving along in the company of some or all of his disciples. They are walking along a busy road on the outskirts of town, a place where you would typically encounter beggars who were seeking support. Not much good sitting on a back road. No traffic. There would have been  any number of beggars on the road into town – the blind, the crippled, lepers, the sick and more.

 

Jesus would have attracted those who were seeking miracles, others watching out for anything sensational and newsworthy, and others wanting to catch him out. It would have been place full of the hustle and bustle of celebrity and the chaos of ordinary folk seeking extraordinary treatment. In the midst of this we encounter the power of stillness.

 

Bartimeaus is sitting still on the side of the road. His blindness makes it almost impossible for him to move without help. To move anywhere requires another to make it possible. After being escorted to his place by the side of the road, he sits. He hears the noise and attempts to sift out the message, the story the sounds tell him about what is happening on the road. Only then does he call out and not before. He calls out of his stillness and silence. It is this place of repose that informs and allows him to encounter with what is going on. He is not distracted by the noise, but is able to discern what is occurring in the noise and make contact with Jesus.

 

Jesus is surrounded by the noise. It is everywhere, people clamouring for his attention and response. But Jesus is so practised in silence and stillness, he takes this with him into every encounter. The Gospels are replete with stories of Jesus retreating into silence, stillness and isolation. He encourages his disciples again and again to follow his example. Silence and stillness are the central spiritual practices of Jesus, and because they are, they define his life in engagement with others.

 

Here he discerns the authentic voice amongst many and ‘stands still’. He does not move toward action, he doesn’t rush to see how he can solve this persons problem, he stands still. In the stillness he calls to the authentic voice who responds and makes his way to Jesus. Jesus avoids the tendency to rush in where angels fear to tread. He stands still, waits, affirms, calls and is responded to. Bartimeaus has so honed his awareness through the many years of sitting and listen that he too can hear the authentic response. They meet and Bartimeaus finds his need met.

 

This afternoon we have Shush Church and on November 7^th we have a silent retreat. I would suppose that these can be seen as challenging activities for those who have not had previous experience of such and wonder what is expected of me if I come along and take part?

 

Silence and stillness are to be practiced with out expectation. Mostly nothing happens. Sometimes something happens. And then nothing happens. It is a place of training where we simply sit with ourselves, being aware of what is or is not happening within us without trying to make something happen with in us. It is about coming into peace with ourselves, recognising the noise that is there and sitting with it so as to hear the authentic voice and response.

 

Silence and stillness is scary because we are in fact letting go of distractions and excuses and becoming open to what is really happening within us. Distractions like loneliness, anger, busyness, gossip, others and their opinions, children and grandchildren disappear as we begin to be comfortable to be with ourselves.

 

It is and does take practice before it becomes our practice. Jesus knew the power of the Psalmist’s plea, “Be still and know I am God” and the Zen koan of  “Be still, be very, very still, and above all else do not wobble”

 

I would encourage each of you to attend this afternoon or to join us at the next silent retreat. They are good places to start. Amen. 

The Human Jesus

First century theology was less sophisticated than that we have inherited through our creeds and traditions. The ideas and dogma we now take for granted either did not exist or did so in a much more primitive manner.

 

Marks gospel for example has no birth or resurrection story in it’s original form. Writers such as the one who penned the Letter to the Hebrews knew nothing of the trinity, penal substitution or of Jesus being without flaws. Their theology was a reflection of their Jewish traditions and of their personal experience, and much of it would fail to pass muster in various schools of theology today.

 

Yet it speaks clearly to us of a simplicity of thought and practice we have long let go past. Complicating the simple seems to give it an aura of truth and credibility – try reading some academic papers before you go to bed tonight and I think you will see what I mean.

 

Both Mark and the writer of the Hebrews understand Jesus and his message in simple terms. Here was a man for whom the love of humanity stood over and above love for self or some particular individual. He looked with compassion on the state of people in the world around him, not because he was divine and above them, but because he was human and one of them.

 

Jesus found himself in the place of the priest, acting on behalf of other because he was aware of his own humanity. The writer to the Hebrews highlights this by saying he was chosen to be God’s represent not because he sought that position, put up his hand or filed an application for the role and attached his cv. He was chosen because of his lived and embraced humanity.

 

He writes: “Every high priest chosen from among mortals is put in charge of things pertaining to God on their behalf, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins. ²He is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is subject to weakness; ³and because of this he must offer sacrifice for his own sins as well as for those of the people. ⁴And one does not presume to take this honour, but takes it only when called by God, just as Aaron was. ⁵So also Christ did not glorify himself in becoming a high priest, but was appointed by the one who said to him, “You are my Son, today I have begotten you” (Hebrews 5:1-10)

 

This is far from the idea of Christ being predestined to be sinless and therefore the only one who could fulfil God’s economy in the world. He was chosen because he made no attempt to avoid his humanity or to pretend to be better than he was. He was human and understood the struggles all humanity were, and are, muddling through.

 

Jesus muddled through by ‘prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission.’ He waited on the hesed, the everlasting compassion of God, and remained faithful to humanity in all he did.

The constant theme of Mark’s gospel is one of Jesus challenging those who put themselves above humanity and calling them to become subservient to the will of God for all people. His was a life lived for others, despite, in the eyes of the first century writers, just being human himself.

In Mark’s Gospel (Mark 10:35 - 45) he became a ransom for humanity, not because of a sacrifice of blood, but because of his faithfulness to the cause of humanity, the reign of God in the world. This is not about claiming the blood of Jesus as the means to wipe away my personal sin. It is to claim the obedience of Jesus to sacrifice himself so that others may have the capacity to live for the kingdom of God despite the suffering and pain that comes with that.

‘Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered; ⁹and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him,..’

And many people have continued to obey ever since, even many who would not claim him for their own. Anyone one who gives up the sense of entitlement to possess Jesus, life, position, power, and lives in solidarity with the greater mass of humanity, shares in that quality of life called eternal salvation.

It is interesting that the writer of the Hebrews asserts he learnt obedience through suffering and therefore can speak on our behalf to God. William Loader, writes: "This is first century theology finding its way of asserting that right next to God there is a voice urging compassion for those hard up against it. Later generations will develop trinitarian doctrine and find ways of asserting this primitive idea in more integrated ways, speaking of solidarity as something which God does not need to be told about but which is central to God's being."

James and John epitomise the desire to rise up. Jesus in both Mark and Hebrews epitomises the need to grow down. Growing down is growing into the lives and experiences of others, of becoming one with those who have had to accept their place in the world and the rawness of their humanity.  Refugees, children in detention, victims of addiction, those suffering mental illness and more call not for the transcendent but the immanent, a human being who can say “all shall be well’ if we remain in unity with each other.

James and John sought to rise above unity into an individual play for divinity. They wanted the special place of power, to have the ear of Jesus in glory, able to influence and bask in the reflected glory of JesustheChrist. Jesus did not seek that position. In Hebrews and Mark it is clear they understood him as an exemplary man, different in his humanity than any others they had seen. It was only later that this was confirmed as divine. Here he is simply the very best a man, a human, could be. He was given the ear of God as a result of learning wisdom and compassion though suffering in the same way as the rest of humanity.

There is something valuable here for us to grasp, something we often fail to understand. You do not need to aspire to be somebody other than yourself, your lived humanity is sufficient. Each time you work at the pantry or op shop, help out the grandmothers stall, march for refugees rights, visit your neighbour, cook a casserole for another, make a phone call to someone who is lonely, drive someone to and from church or just welcome each other at church you are living out your humanity in just the way Jesus did. These are acts that cost you something, that reflect your understanding of the important things of life learnt through your own suffering. As my daughter would say, ‘It’s not rocket science Dad”.

The writer of Hebrews brings us back to basics, it is the human that matters, and the human that matters most is the one who has learnt though suffering how to be obedient to the needs of the kingdom of God in those around them. 

The Eternal Quality

(Mark 10:17-31)

Last week we looked at grace and the abandonment of entitlement in terms of our relationship with God and others. Jesus took the image of children reliant upon their father for their place in the world and reminded us we are to abandon ourselves entirely to God for the outcome of our lives.

 

Living in a modern, comfortable and affluent society such as Australia we may find this to be most difficult step to take; to completely give up any claim we have on our lives and to trust entirely, without reservation on God and God’s grace may ask just a little too much for us. Reputation, bank balance, possessions, children and public image take the place of God, ever so slightly, until we simply do not need God nor include the faith and God in our day to day life.

 

"We have all we need, without God. And anyway all God would ask of us is to share it with others who are lazy, won’t work, sneak into our country through the backdoor and more. We deserve everything we have because we worked for it, scrimped and saved, studied hard, got promoted and put our career/wealth/image before anything else. As a self-made person I simply have no need for God. What more could God have given me than what I already have?"

 

An earnest and keen person runs up to Jesus. He has some questions he wants answered; actually he has one question above all others that needs to be answered:  “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

 

Jesus looks at him and chastises him for over familiarity and presumption, providing a reminder of the condition of all human beings; we are flawed, not perfect and therefore not good. Only God, the creator of all, is good.

 

Whyatt, a veritable bundle of uncontrollable energy, bound up and said ‘Hello Father Glenn.” Hello Whyatt, how are you?  “I am good Father Glenn”. ‘Whyatt’s good or well?” “Good, Father Glenn”. “Does Whyatt know what good means?” And referring to this text I reminded him of what it means to be good, half way though he looked at me and said, “Whyatt’s well!”

 

Not only do we sometimes have a rose coloured opinion of ourselves, we have the same for others. The earnest man was appealing to the public image of Jesus; Jesus questioned the validity of such an opinion. "How well do you know me? Are you not being a little overfamiliar? And how do you judge what is good?"

 

Jesus doesn’t allow him to answer. Jesus has seen all this before and goes straight for the jugular. "I know, you have kept the letter of the law while amassing economic riches and moral brownie points for good behaviour and shrewd business acumen, but that is not enough.  What was the purpose of your astute business dealings and your proper attention to the law? What were you trying to achieve? Did you think that being successful within the constraints of the law excuses you from the sacrifices that goodness will extract from you?"

 

He knew the earnest man would have tithed, given alms, supported all the appropriate funds and appeals and practiced his faith strictly within the guidelines set. This was no part-time religious person. Faith and religion were the pillars holding up his life. Those around would have known that too.

 

There was a fair chance they would have looked up to his upright and devout citizen and striven to emulate his behaviour and practice. If wealth and right practice were not sufficient to enter eternal life, then the must have wondered what they had to do? If this pillar of society had not done enough, what about them?

 

Jesus understood the power money and possessions (wealth) has over human beings. We fear being without possessions, without money, without the resources to participate in the consumer society we live in. While we do not have the resources of  a Bill Gates, Gina Rinehart, James Packer, Andrew Forrest our even our Prime Minister, we often perceive that what we have is both ours and deserved, and that we are to hang on to it at all costs.

 

Stacey Simpson repositions the question the rich man asks, "What must we do to inherit eternal life? (and suggests) We must let go of all that we have and all that we do that gets in the way of seeing that there is nothing we can do to save ourselves." Gerry Pierse, adds: "The issue here is not so much the acquisition of riches as the attachment to them."

The earnest man was aware something was missing. Life didn’t have the x-factor, that special something which could only be described as eternal, ever-lasting, unfailing, all ways present. With all his wealth, possessions and strict observance, his life lacked that essential something. How frustrating; to be a self made man held in high esteem for his diligence and faith an, all along, being aware it wasn’t enough.

This was not about heaven, life after death. This was about life here and now. Remember, for the Jewish people there was only one resurrection and that took place at the end of time. You could store up treasure there but you had to live out the kingdom of God here and now. Eternal life is a substantive quality, not a destination, and he knew he was missing it.

The answer he receives was not the one he wanted to hear. He wanted affirmation, to hear Jesus say, ‘Well done Good and Faithful friend. You have done it all.” Instead Jesus says let go of your dependency upon self, your achievements and the fragility of wealth. This is about paying it forward, giving it away. It is about a sacrificial involvement in the world that asks us not to count the cost of giving, and not to rejoice in the good our giving may do, but to give until we are at peace with ourselves. That is eternal life.

This is about what we hold onto for ourselves in relationships, partnerships, community, churches and workplaces out of fear that to give up our ownership of self and possessions (the extensions of self we value ourselves by). Mark has Jesus calling us out on this reluctance to commit through the example of an upright and upstanding citizen who so much wanted to be good himself.

What might this look like in our lives:

• Taking the time to reflect on, not on what we give, to the church, our relationships, our communities but on what is out of bounds, untouchable, held in reserve.
• Being honest about our reticence to loosen the purse strings and respond without fear to the ask for funds at church and by those less well off than ourselves;
• Placing ourselves in the position of those who are in poverty and respond as we would like others to do if the situation was reversed;
• Honestly looking at the reasons we give and to accept that it is about fear, we are afraid to give up something in case we might need it later.
• Understanding the dichotomy within us – we say can rely on the God who is within us for our salvation but then we baulk at that very same God providing sufficiently for our daily needs.

Steven Albertin suggests eternal life is experienced because "…. we GET TO be generous and gracious with our lives, pouring ourselves out and giving ourselves away to those in need, (not as charity but as empowerment)."

It’s a shame the earnest man walked away. It would be a shame if we did the same. 

The Myth of Innocence

The innocence of children has become an accepted mantra of modern society, an idea challenged by recent incidents such as the shooting of a man in Sydney by a 15 year old boy. We believe children are incapable of doing or thinking evil in our culture that promotes the idea all children are innocent.

Yet the case of James Bulger showed just how optimistic such an idea is. James was murdered on 12 February 1993, at the age of two. He was abducted from a shopping centre and murdered by two ten-year-old boys. In some ways it woke society out of its slumber but not entirely so. As we often do with gross tragedies society demonises the perpetrators, using words such as monsters, mentally ill, evil, rarely is children, child or other terms used to describe an ordinary person who committed and extraordinary crime.

As a result we see those responsible for such acts as aberrations and continue to highlight the innocence of children as the norm. Anyone who has spent a few weeks in a school playground can assure you this is not so. Bullying, name-calling, interpersonal violence, isolation and other demeaning activities are on show for all to see. And, yes, your children and grandchildren are no more innocent than anybody else’s. They all have the tendency to do evil.

Children are often cute but rarely innocent.

Which brings us to Mark10:14-16 from the Living Bible:

¹⁴ But when Jesus saw what was happening he was very much displeased with his disciples and said to them, “Let the children come to me, for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as they. Don’t send them away! ¹⁵ I tell you as seriously as I know how that anyone who refuses to come to God as a little child will never be allowed into his Kingdom.”

¹⁶ Then he took the children into his arms and placed his hands on their heads and he blessed them.

A danger in reading the Bible is to translate the stories directly into our culture. These are stories written to address situations pertinent to a particular place and time. Jesus is not addressing a situation occurring in downtown Ashburton or Glen iris, but in relation to the way young people were treated in his time.

Children were seen neither as innocent or deserving of special treatment. They were not hovered over by mothers and fathers who worked to ensure that their child received the best, became the best and was not discriminated against by others. This story is not about my child being special, more special than anything else.

In Jesus’ time, children were completely dependent upon their relationship with their father for their life and place in the family. The father decided whether the child would even be accepted into the family. Children belonged to their father and remained subject to his authority even as adults. The saying "to receive the kingdom like a child," which most scholars treat as originally independent of the scene about accepting children, must, therefore, refer to the radical dependence of the child on the father for any status, inheritance, or, in families where children might be abandoned, for life itself. It warns the disciples that they are radically dependent upon God's grace -- they cannot set the conditions for entering the kingdom.

Now isn’t that interesting? Jesus takes a practice or a circumstance, common to his age but out of sync with our own, to introduce the concept of grace. Children had no special right to their place in the family. There was nothing they could do to ensure that they received a place or had first place. Birthplace in the family hierarchy, gender or ability did not guarantee them a place. They were simply to be children.

Old Testament stories of the battle for supremacy in families, Cain and Abel, Joseph, Esau and more reinforce graphically the scheming and conniving that went on to gain the father’s favour and to get your hands on the coveted position of power. The Father held the upper hand and unless you were chosen you missed out, and perhaps, were left out of the family all together. You relied completely on the father’s generosity.

Jesus seems to take this patriarchal system and remind us we are dependent on God’s grace for all the good things that come our way, particularly our acceptance into heaven. We cannot connive or scheme our way into heaven. We simply have to be obedient to what we understand is the will of God and to leave the rest up to God. Like the children Jesus referred to who had to trust their father, we are to trust God.

Is this fair or is Jesus out of line by making such a connection? Isn’t this idea disempowering? Why can’t children be whatever they want to be, do what ever they want to do and be entitled to be treated as innocent and precious, someone whose every wish is pampered to?

Is it fair Jesus asks to give up our own wilful decision making processes to rely completely on the grace of God? Shouldn’t we have some say in what we do and how we go about securing our eternal future? Perhaps Jesus response would be: “Well, we did give you free will; so how did that turn out for you?”

Grace is a gift and a decision. It is God’s gift of unconditional empowerment freely given to those who decide to be open to the possibility of unlimited empowerment.

Grace cannot be bestowed if we are looking the other way. If we are committed to doing things our way (thanks Frank), dictating the terms of the relationship (if you do…then I will…), designing what it looks like (God, let me win X Factor or Lotto, or the grand-final), then we block the presence of God’s grace in our lives.

The children Jesus was referring to had to make a decision to trust the Father. The Father was not exempt of responsibility. Jesus was challenging Fathers to give good things to their children. They were not to be tyrants, dictators, and manipulators of the children. This was a relationship of mutual giving and decision-making. The fathers were to be gracious in their treatment of their children. Neither were to abuse the relationship. Both were to respect each other and to allow what would be to be. What happens when they don’t? See the Prodigal son for more details.

What a challenge for us as we reflect on our personal relationships, and particularly our relationship with God; to give ourselves completely to God, open to the unlimited empowerment available to us and deciding to let go of our impulse to control and to manage the outcomes according to our will. This applies to our relationship with partners; children and those we work with as well as the ultimate relationship on which all else is developed.

Are we, as a church able to give up our concerns and our fears, our preferred outcomes and dreams for our parish; and to give ourselves entirely to the grace of God? The children Jesus was referring to trusted the outcome to the generosity of empowerment; are we able to do so here?

It does not mean we are exempt of responsibility of hard work, effort, prayer and obedience. On the contrary that is what is expected of us. We are to work as if everything relies upon our efforts, while at the same time knowing we are completely dependent upon God’s grace.

This is not a story of childish innocence. It is a realistic story of the facts of life. To welcome children and to be welcomed as children is about the gift of mutual respect and responsibility. We are empowered to the doing of great deeds by the fact the outcome doesn’t rely on us. God has got us covered.