Art and Identity - Canvas As Country

A Portrait of Australia - With Important Bits Missing - Glenn Loughrey, 2017

Matthew 28:16-20

 

Today is the Sunday closest to Ascension Day and also National Reconciliation Sunday. An interesting juxtaposition maybe, but one I would suggest, poses some interesting questions for us individually, as a church and as a society.

Colonisation of Australia, as it did through out the world, brought with it the evangelical fervour to convert those who lived in the colonised countries to the state religion.  In the case of Australia this was, initially at least, Christianity as promoted by the Church of England. And this was essentially predicated on the verses we read in today’s Gospel.

The impact of such fervour continues to reverberate down through the ages in the experience of indigenous people. In conversation indigenous people often ask me why they should trust the church? Desmond Tutu writes, “When the missionaries came to Africa they had the Bible and we had the land. They said 'Let us pray.' We closed our eyes. When we opened them we had the Bible and they had the land.” This was the experience indigenous peoples on all continents shared.

 

Matthew’s Gospel is a powerful passage, a passage that brings power, and promises power through the giving of the Holy Spirit. Like all power, it is a double-edged sword. It all depends on how it is used. Way too often it has been used to damage people, places and creatures in the urge for control.  Having everyone believe what you do ensures that you bring him or her in under your control. Belief systems are powerful moderators of peoples behaviour and the inappropriate or literal interpretation of these words from Matthew’s Gospel have been responsible for the justification of poor behaviour by the church.

 

Not only by the church, but by those whose sensibilities have been influenced and informed by the church. Present policies of paternalistic politics in this country continue the conversion of indigenous people, not to a specific faith, but to a specific religion – that of secular capitalism and consumerism. Much of the policies governments and others follow are designed to assimilate indigenous people into the world of individual work, consumption and home ownership. Policies such as the Northern Territory Intervention, the subsequent Closing the Gap policy and individual items such as the indue debit card quarantining income and limiting individual responsibility and the drive to include indigenous people in the constitution have continued the idea of conversion. This time the conversion is to consumerism and making disciples for the corporations to continue to rack up profits.

 

Now these are harsh words for a passage of scripture empowering the disciples to go into the world and engage with those whose worldview is different to theirs. They are harsh words as we consider the significance of the Ascension of Jesus as the releasing of the power of the Holy Spirit into the world. And we must remember that the damage done by literal and colonial interpretations of these words have nothing to do with the Holy Spirit.

 

These words challenge us to receive the Holy Spirit and to listen to her activity in the world. It is about walking abroad in the world and listening to creation in all its various forms and responding out of compassion and respect to bring about wholeness in our lives, the lives of others and in creation.

 

The baptism we read about is not a branding as in the branding of cattle, of ownership and control, but a baptism into the Father, Son and Holy Spirit – the wholeness of the Godhead. It is a baptism of unity with all that exists for all that exists finds it beginning and end in the Source of all being – God. This baptism we are asked to conduct is the shared inclusion in the forward whole-ing of all that is, was and ever will be.

 

Baptism is a partnership with the Spirit of the Christ set loose in the world, whole-d up in places, peoples and events we do not expect or cannot imagine as her dwelling place. In the lives and practices of indigenous people whose understanding of the spirit have been honed and experienced over many centuries before we in the western world encountered the incarnated Christ.

 

Too often we have demanded that people who have been baptised turn their backs on their own traditions and spiritual experiences without consideration of the impact of such an action. Other times we have attempted to appropriate ideas from ancient spiritualties and redefine them within our own faith traditions and understanding. Neither is appropriate and neither is the call of Mathew’s Jesus. He is calling for a deep and respectful dialogue which brings about people who are disciples committed to the core tenets of his teachings – unconditional love and respect for all that is, was, and ever will be – the love which respects others and joins in the process of whole-ing for all.

 

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

This passage is one of the most difficult statements Jesus is given to say. It is all open to interpretation and is often reduced to a legal and theoretical framework designed to ensure people remain faithful to a particular world view depending upon which tradition of faith you belong. It is why we struggle with equality of gender and marriage, of poverty and riches, of race and culture, of faith and religion. Our interpretations of Jesus teachings defines what we believe this should all look like and results in a simple tick sheet of who is in and who is out.

Yet this is one of the most inclusive statements in the Gospels. Go into the world, listen to the Spirit and join with others in the journey into wholeness for all through mutual love and respect. This is the sense of the aboriginal concept of deep listening to country which Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr calls dadirri (and other mobs have different names for) – the deep mutuality of dialogue with all that exists.

This passage challenges us to stop our incessant urge to convert people to our world view and begin the difficult but necessary task of listening deeply to others, people, places and creatures, so that all as the off spring of the Godhead can live in harmonious wholeness.

How do we do that here, in this place? Is it our expectation that all who enter into this place must share our own particular view of faith, liturgy, music and worship? Is it our view that all who enter here must fit the model that we have been comfortable with? Are we indeed listening to hear what the spirit is saying to the church or have already decided what is being said and we do not need to listen anymore? Do we actually go out into the world surrounding our beloved church and actually engage with those who are in such a way that we begin the journey wholeness with them or are we just happy to meet here once a week for our own personal benefit?

I suspect there was some of this in Jesus’s statement to the disciples. I also suggest that the coming of the spirit is not just for our sake, but for the whole world. You know, God so loved the world, and all that stuff. Amen 

Back To The Beginning

9Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

 

What strikes me about this little dialogue is the direction Jesus gives to the disciples to return to where it all began. Jesus asks the two Mary’s to go and tell the disciples that they will see him Galilee. The angel had already said that this was the plan that Jesus was going ahead of them to Galilee.

 

It does seem a little odd that the resurrected Jesus would want to go back to the beginning and not to move forward into new places and new territories. A worldly leader would have used this amazing return as the opportunity for an assault on power and control. No politician worth their salt would take a step backward when he or she held the element of surprise.

 

Surely Jesus would want himself and his team to capitalise of the element of surprise his return would bring, surely a resurrected Jesus would attract the crowds and see a massive upward movement in the popularity polls? Surely Jerusalem would have been a better place to go and be seen? Surely there the kingdom of God project would get some traction and bring out about justice, freedom and healing that was so desperately needed?

 

No, they are to go to Galilee and begin again without a leader to grab the limelight and give them the upper hand. The campaign begins again, this time it is not about an incarnate Christ but a Christ incarnate in the disciples. The emphasis shifts from the Son of God to those empowered by the Cosmic Christ, the spirit of the Son of God. The disciples are to be themselves by being empowered by the spirit of God and to live out Christ in their own lives.

 

This is a powerful message. This is no longer about the physical presence of God changing lives and challenging authority, this will be about the ordinary men and women from Galilee standing up and taking responsibility. They return to Galilee for the transition of authority and responsibility, for Jesus to hand over the reins of the kingdom to ordinary men wand women now empowered by the resurrection Spirit.

 

We all have to return to the beginning at some point in our lives be it our faith lives or ordinary lives, to go back to where we first commenced our journey and take the time to recalibrate our compass to ensure we are in touch with the Source of all being. Galilee was the place where they first encountered the Source of Life and it is where Jesus takes them as they begin the second half of their journey.

 

 There is an ad on TV which says, If I only knew then what I know now. Returning to the place where we started our journey allows us space for a new perspective on our life, our achievements and our troubles. It allows us to put down our roots once again and to step forward with a sense of confidence and hope.

 

After the time spent in hidden spaces fearful of the response of the authorities after Jesus death, the disciples have returned to the familiar, in place, in faces and the in activity. They regrouped and rediscovered what drove them to go with Jesus in the first place.

 

They rediscovered their first love and Jesus allows them the grace to do so, the opportunity to grieve his physical loss and to gain the fervour of their first love reborn.  It is this love that takes them on through Pentecost to plant the church in a world that had crucified the Christ. The scenes we see at Galilee reflect the scenes they experienced of Jesus when he first called him – fishing, sharing a fish barbecue and stepping forward to follow Jesus by leaving their boats behind.  This time they do it out of an experiential love of the truth he shared with them, the truth he became to them and the truth he implanted in them through the Spirit. This time they go not blindly and without knowing, but open eyed and knowing what is possible.

 

When we first discover faith when we are young we want it all. We want to change the world, to tell everyone what we have found and to grab it all for ourselves. As we grow older and stuff happens we may become jaded and disillusioned by others and by our expectations of God – our fish love begins to take over. At some point in our lives we begin to discover wisdom not knowledge, stillness not activity and we begin to return to first love, albeit very differently than the first time.

 

It is in these mature and often later years of our lives that we begin to live lives of faith, hope and love based on experience and grace, not energy and enthusiasm of which there was plenty of the first time around for the disciples. Now they and we begin to relax into the presence of the Christ through the Spirit

And trust that all indeed will be well no matter how dark it may seem.

 

On this Easter Day we, you and I, may be being called back to Galilee, back to those first experiences of faith, hope and love in the being of Jesus the Christ and being asked to begin again, but this time with greater mindfulness and focus on the presence of the Source, the Spirit in our personal life and the life of the whole creation. Maybe this glorious, day is the day we begin again without the angst of unknowing and of the expectation of success, only to rest in the knowledge that we are not alone and all things are possible. 

Cold Hands, Warm Heart, Dirty Feet (Water):

Cold Hands, Warm Heart, Dirty Feet (Water):

It was a nursing home like most nursing homes. People had gathered in the recreation room as someone special was coming to entertain them. Wheel chairs, walkers, beds on wheels and even some in ordinary chairs! Everybody was excited waiting for the special guest.

Suddenly, he was there. A clown dressed in funny clothes, a red rubber ball on his nose and big floppy shoes! After a jittery start, dropping the juggle balls, losing one of the balloon animals shot off across the room landing on the face of a sleeping lady, he began to meet and greet.

He shook hands with the lady in the front row. She looked at him and said, “Oooh, you have cold hands”. He replied, “Cold hands, warm heart” with all the appropriate gestures. She smiled and said, “And dirty feet.” She went on to say it is what her mother said when she and siblings rushed through the gauze door after a day exploring the bush around their farm house.

Cold hands, warm heart, dirty feet. Dirty feet. The product of active feet, or as in the penguin movie, Happy Feet, feet that are out exploring the world, venturing to new places, engaging with life and different faces. Dirty feet are the result of being fully engaged in life.

Kids get dirty feet playing in the mud, kicking up leaves or footballs, cooking up scams and crazy ideas with friends., and they bring them back into the house. Wipe your feet!, a common cry of Mums from days gone by. Shoes were a luxury. Bare feet the go.

Not only kids, Dad’s boots, garden shoes, garage boots all brought in mud, grease, oil and stuff. Wipe your feet! Or better still, leave those boots outside!

Jesus washes dirty feet. Feet that have been contaminated by the dust of everyday life, that have picked up additives and bits of stuff not normally there. Dirty feet could be a metaphor for the stuff we pick up in our lives, cultural ideas and practices, current fads and fetishes, little compromises and shortcuts diminishing our living as disciples of Christ.

The disciples aren’t dirty. Not really. They have bathed and follow the normal rules of ritual cleanliness. They don’t need as impetuous Peter asks to be washed all over. 

⁸Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” ⁹Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” ¹⁰Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean.”

The idea of Peter allowing Jesus to wash him is a little further than most of us want to go! Jesus says no, this not about the ordinary acts of cleanliness. This is about the reminder that we if we engage fully with life in this world we will find ourselves picking up dust from the road. Take time to wipe the dust from your feet.

Jesus undertakes this task on behalf of the disciples as:

• A leader – sets the example
• A companion – cares for those whom he shares life with
• A servant – be prepared to do for others what they may not wish to do for themselves.

In doing so he calls them to be:

• Mindful of the dust they collect and to take the time to reflect and let go of those things that become attached to us.
• Mindful of the dust others collect and to take the time to reflect and help them let go of those things that become attached to them.
• And respond with compassion and humility to both their (our) need and the needs of others.

As we come to night to participate in this act together, let us remember it is a community act of compassion and humility we all need and may we be mindful of our responsibility to serve Christ by serving others without question. Whose feet do we wash? Christ's ! Amen 

The Widows Mite

Mark 12:38-44

What a lovely story! Jesus affirms a poor widow for making a sacrificial gift to the Synagogue. He actually applauds her for giving, in real terms than all those who were rich and famous. Therefore, we extrapolate, it is not how much you give but the sacrifice you make that matters.

This passage, popularly called “The Widows Mite” pops up whenever we get to talking about giving, tithing or any kind of stewardship program. It can be used to encourage or bully people into giving or to explain why we don’t give more than we do. Talking about money and the giving of money usually makes us cough, look at our watch es and find an excuse to be somewhere else.

The Widows Mite justifies our condemnation of the rich (they should give more) and our defence of our own level of giving (every little bit counts you know).

Is that what this story is really all about? Is that what the widow has come to mean to us or is there something else at work here? John Petty suggest"She is not a positive example, but rather the (barely) living representative of a crying shame.  She represents the on-going exploitation of the poor by the Temple elite."

 

Jesus and the disciples are sitting in the temple courtyard watching the passing cavalcade that was the daily occurrence at the synagogue. People were moving around, moving in and out of the temple and others were making their contribution towards the various temple appeals including the cost of the day to day operations.

 

³⁸As he taught, he said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, ³⁹and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honour at banquets! ⁴⁰They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”

 

There were the scribes and Pharisees, visibly different in dress and deportment. Moving back and forth across the square making sure they were seen by all and sundry. They wanted to, no needed to be noticed, to be sure that others understood just how important they were and how important it was you contributed your required gifts for their benefit. These were the people who used the laws of giving to increase theirs and the temples wealth and the cost of the poor and the marginalised, and felt no guilt in relieving such as widows of their houses. They made others poor to make themselves rich and important.

 

There were the rich people, those with great wealth and importance. They too were noticed by their dress and deportment and by the great show they made of giving large amounts of money as required. There was little sacrificial about their giving. They had much and so what appeared to be a large and impressive amount to the ordinary person cost them little.

 

⁴¹He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. ⁴²A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny.⁴³Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. ⁴⁴For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

 

Then there were the ordinary people, those with little who were still required to give their share. Jesus points to a widow, a woman on her own, who came out of the shadows, a little embarrassed, a little fearful and fiddle with her purse before putting in a pennyworth of coins – 2 copper coins worth very little to the rich yet worth much to her.

 

Jesus highlights what she gives, and in the context of his comments about both the rich and the scribes and Pharisees, he is not applauding her at all. He is condemning those with the capacity to give and those who use the poor to become rich.

 

We stand condemned if we use this story to justify taking unjustly from the poor or as an excuse not to give sacrificially ourselves.

 

In our modern world we often commend the extremely rich for their philanthropy pointing to the large amounts of money they contribute to causes and programs. And yes many do give large amounts and we should be grateful. But there are at least two questions we have to answer:

 

How and from whom did they make their money? Was it by making quality products or services, providing living wages to those who work for them, and by paying a fair share of the tax bill? Or was it by selling lesser quality goods, paying the lowest possible wages, inducing people who can not afford the products and services they have to offer to put themselves at risk by buying them, exporting jobs and importing inferior goods? It would be unfair of me to single out any particular individual or corporation because the economics of business is such that most appear to be doing so. If this is the case, the giving to charities and causes by those involved is not to be commended for giving after the fact when they have avoided paying proper wages and taxes before taking the profits.

 

For a number of years I was  involved in raising funds for charities and organisations. The organisations I worked for had this idea that special appeals to the rich and famous, black tie dinners and direct approaches to those with the resources was where the money was to be had. Often they had not kept the list of the ‘little people’ who gave their regular but ‘unimpressive’ gifts to the charity or organisation. Appeals to these people were often seen as costly and not profitable.

Yet the appeals that were unprofitable were always those to the rich and famous. In terms of time, effort and resources, the returns were much less in real terms than the funds given by the small givers. And the small givers were regular, were happy to receive a thank you note and had no need for a photo opportunity in the social pages.

Around the same time I was involved in the liquor industry when old corner hotels were being tarted up and becoming boutique pubs. I suggested this might not be a good idea. To become a boutique you needed boutique clients, nit the regulars who popped in at 10, left at 5 and did that quietly and religiously everyday. I pointed out that they were the ones that paid the wages, and without them they would struggle to be successful. I was told that these people didn’t fit the image and had to go. For many establishments this proved to be a bad move.

Jesus points to the widow and says here is someone who is faithful to her commitments and responsibilities and who is being used to make others rich (those in power) and to appease the consciences of the rich (those who have the capacity to make a real contribution)

No this not a story about the widows mite, but a story about might oppressing the widow. AMen

Sea Fever

Sea Fever

(John Masefield)

(Mark 4:35-41)

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

 

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

John Masefield went to sea on tall ships at the age of 15. He fell in love with the sea and reflects in this poem on his experiences and longing to return. Yet he concludes his poem with the desire to complete his journey and when it is over to enjoy the afterlife.

Masefield’s poem likens life to a sea journey, a wild journey that is untameable by ordinary means. He seeks the wind and the spray in his face, both dangerous and life-giving. He knows life will not be an easy journey, but completed in the company of others it is more than bearable.

Mark takes us on a similar journey in today’s Gospel. Jesus goes down to the sea in a boat, a small fishing vessel with minimum sail, an experienced crew and a small following flotilla. They venture out into the deep and open themselves up to the wildness of the sea, the most unpredictable and treacherous of the natural elements.

Sea is used throughout the Bible to signify fear and mystery. It is approached with fear and trembling by most books in the Bible.

Right at the beginning of the Book of Genesis we read: “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, ²the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” The sea and God are connected. It is primal, there at the beginning. It’s primitive and untamed nature invokes fear, not only in sailors but in the psyche of

the human being.

In the book of Daniel we read: “I, Daniel, saw in my vision by night the four winds of heaven stirring up the great sea, ³and four great beasts came up out of the sea, different from one another.”

Psalm 107 gives a similar story as Masefield: “³Some went down to the sea in ships, doing business on the mighty waters; they saw the deeds of the Lord, his wondrous works in the deep. For he commanded and raised the stormy wind, which lifted up the waves of the sea.”

Then we have Paul being thrown overboard by his shipmates because they thought he was responsible for the storm threatening their lives.

Jesus goes to sleep on the cushion at the rear of the boat. Right near where the rudder was and where one would normally find the skipper of the boat. From there you chart the course, monitor the wind and manage the sails and the boats’ safety.

This is also where the water would pool. It is normally the lowest point of the boat and any water that came on board would run and pool at the feet of those sitting here. If the boat was filling with water, so were your shoes.

Mark suggests Jesus, by his position on the boat, was in charge, and  the crew complains he is asleep at the wheel! Asleep his feet were out of the water, next to him on the cushion. To them he appeared to be totally neglecting his responsibilities, asleep at the wheel and out of harms way.

There are consequences for skippers and their passengers when they are asleep at the wheel. The skipper of the Costa Concordia has been charged with neglect of duty for allowing his ship to run aground and causing the loss of 32 lives. The most famous of all was the wreck of the Titanic.

Mark uses this fear of the sea and it’s inherent fury to demonstrate the divinity of Jesus, that not only did he have the power to heal and cast out demons, but he had the authority to calm the wildest and most unpredictable of the elements. His authoritative teaching was matched by his ability to manage the created world. Miracles may or may not be factual events and I question whether it matters if they are. They are parabolic stories with meaning for those with insight.

When woken Jesus deals with the problem. Taking control, he shows that he is in charge and can deal with the terrifying. ‘Peace, be still” is a Biblical call for faith and centred-ness, or as we might say, mindfulness. As the Egyptians closed in on the Israelites at the edge of the Red Sea, God reminds them that “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to keep still.”(Exodus 14:14)

Is the ‘peace be still’ aimed at the sea or at them? Is the fact he is awake and present to them sufficient for them to change from fear to a sense all will be well? Is Jesus suggesting fear, doubt, worry comes from within, not from without?  The storm is not the problem. It is what we make of the storm that is.

As he swings back into the role of the skipper, the man in charge, all becomes manageable.  Did the storm immediately stop? Perhaps not. Perhaps what happened was that they now had a leader, someone they knew who was capable of leading them through what had seemed to be the end for them.

‘Peace’, be calm, let go of fear, look rationally and logically at this situation. Did you really think you were going to die? Where was your faith in yourselves and the experience you have had of God’s involvement in your lives? Why did you abandon what you and your people have experienced time after time?

‘Be still’, stop, slow down, take a good long deep breath and put your self back in control. It is no accident that one of the things we do to calm people down is to help them get control of their breath. Jesus say be still, all will be well. You are with me and with my Father and we have given you plenty of examples of our power and compassion and we will remain present.

Jesus shows his power and authority to the disciples and the flotilla of little boats and asks that we too ‘Be still’ and trust when the greatest of ill winds unsettle and threaten to sink our little boat. William Loader reminds us: "(We) know what it is like to be buffeted. (We) know what it is like to have no control. (We) know situations where only the divine can intervene."

The church in the 21^st century seems to be in die straits. Reputation is under threat; numbers are dropping at a remarkable rate so much so that the churches in England is predicted to be empty by 2050, or there abouts; the challenge to the traditional view of marriage and sexuality; and more. As we look about us here we see the challenges we have to face and could be overcome by anxiety about our existence and our relevance.

The storm is calmed and now the hard work begins for those with him, the hard work of practicing the presence and power of Christ in the ordinary events of everyday. Who is at the wheel of our boat, and if it is God, how reliable is God?

We know from experience God is not asleep. This is God’s church and God will steer it through the storms we appear to be facing. We are not alone. Like the Israelites at the Red Sea and the disciples in the little boat we are to be still, take a deep breath and look around and see the possibilities of the Spirit.

Brian Stoffregen writes: "While we may pray that Jesus would work miracles in our lives and in our world and in our neighbourhoods; the miracles that come probably won't let us off the hook from doing some of the hard work required to do what Jesus has called us to do."

Are we ready to be still and work hard to bring in the kingdom of God? AMEN

The Emmaus Road Story

Growing up poor in the bush I know about roads. Roads took you to relatives houses, grandma’s piping hot bread and her large feather bed. Roads took you to sport and social activities, often many miles from where you lived. Roads took you on holidays, connecting one caravan park to another, and another.

 

At the same time I knew about walking. Walking around rabbit traps early in the winter mornings, walking barefoot across the 2 1/2 thousand acres following a mob sheep, lost in your own thoughts. Walking toward town when the car was broken hoping someone would pick you up and save your feet. Driving mobs of sheep through the scrub to be shorn.

 

Roads and walking were apart of my early life and both helped form who I became.  Roads were the lifelines and walking the only way to get from one place to the next.  Both allowed you to ruminate on life, the big questions, to day dream and imagine being somewhere else doing something else. I still like to walk and our favourite pastime is going for a drive.

 

On the farm you could easily get lost in your thoughts and almost step on a frill necked lizard just as it reared up to open its frill and its mouth, frightening the life out of you. It was there all the time but you were lost in your own thoughts that you simply didn’t see the obvious.

 

And that’s the Emmaus Road story. Two blokes lost in their own thoughts and conversation. Walking. Talking. Lost in their own troubles and worries. Their world had collapsed with the death of Jesus and they were going home, or at least I think they were. Their heads were down. Their words were low and sad. They probably weren’t even looking at each other. Like characters in a Harold Pinter dialogue they simply spoke out of their own pain without even connecting with the words of the other. It was a monologue delivered by two people who were trying to make sense of what had just happened.

 

No wonder they didn’t see Jesus. It is not that Jesus was mystically hidden from them. They just didn’t look to see who it was. It was just another voice, another person walking with them. As this was not a conversation as such, there was no need to look. Anyway if they did they wouldn’t have seen the obvious because the manner and mode of their walking and talking let no room for Jesus to be alive, let alone to be there. With them.

 

We all know the experience of not seeing the obvious. Our keys are where we left them or our glasses are on our head! It’s obvious to everyone else but us. We have all had the experience of trying to help someone with a major problem, the answer is so obvious but they are so convinced otherwise that it doesn’t matter what we do, they simply can’t see it. You can’t see the sun rising if you are always look to the west.

 

Yet this is where Jesus meets them. On the road. Walking beside them. In the midst of their preoccupation with misery and failure, Jesus comes and begins to converse with them. They stop talking and begin to listen as he talks to them. We know that they were listening, because after Jesus leaves them, they are able to identify that moment on the road when the light began to rise in them. ‘ Did not our hearts…… Something began to happen amongst the dust and the stones, the sun and the breeze. Their minds began to clear and hear. That’s what walking does for you. That’s what the road does for you. As it stretches out ahead of you and you take one step after another, almost without thinking, the worries of the world slip away or at least begin to clarify.

 

Jesus doesn’t avoid the dust and ruts of the road that is our life. Jesus walks with us everyday, the still small voice that speaks to us in then ordinary activities, the day-to-day rituals of modern human existence. Here, the resurrected Christ continues to walk amongst his people just as he had done previously. He steps into the conversation of the retreating disciples and gets his feet dirty. 

 

There is a rhythm to the road. Walking is only one part of the journey. Hospitality is the other. Those of us who have undertaken long journeys on the road know that the time comes to avail yourself of the hospitality of others. A fellow traveller, an inn or hotel, or just a camping ground where you get to rub shoulders and conversation with others – fellow travellers of the road.

 

Sharing a meal with another is a privilege, be it either as the provider of the meal or the one partaking. We were in Ranau in Sabah Borneo. We had come to lay the first stones in a memorial for Australian soldiers who had died there at the end of the Second World War. The village was a very poor. Little work and even less income, yet they offered us a meal after the little ceremony. I prayed over the stones and we walked up to the community hall.

 

It was indeed a feast. The old trestles were creaking with the weight of food we not only could not identify but had no way of pronouncing. The students looked around unsure what to do. All I said was, ‘Eat, it is a privilege to share in their hospitality’. The students did just that, although with some trepidation I have to admit.

 

The walkers ask Jesus in to eat. We are not sure if it was their house or simply some kind of inn. Jesus accepts their generosity and hospitality and sits down to eat. My life is punctuated by great meals, not necessarily by great food. Great food sometimes accompany great meals, but not always. It’s the conversations, stories, transparency and honesty that make a great meal. In Paris I remember sitting in an Indian themed restaurant with a Bulgarian, 2 gypsies, an Italian, another Australian and a couple of Frenchmen enjoying one of the greatest meals of my life. Conversation was limited by the languages spoken and the table etiquette varied from those using cutlery to those eating with their fingers, but it was full of laughter and camaraderie.

 

Jesus sits down at the meal and returns the hospitality by blessing the food and revealing himself to the two travellers. Suddenly in the relaxed environment of the shared table they could see what they missed on the road. Their companion was indeed the risen Christ! It was so obvious. How could they have missed it?

 

They turned around and went back to Jerusalem.

 

Every day the risen Jesus is active in our world and our lives. He is present in our relationships, our encounters, our ordinary experiences. He walks the dusty road of modern life with us. Do we recognise his presence? Do we hear his voice? Or do we become so entrenched in our problems, our tragedies or our preoccupations that we simply do not see or hear him?

 

It is in these ordinary moments that Jesus is revealed and turns us around to continue our journey in his presence. Amen

 

Transformation and Change

John 20:1-11 (10) Then the disciples returned to their homes.

People rarely make instant decisions. People rarely get it straight away. No matter how obvious it may seem, no matter how remarkable something maybe, we seem to resist accepting what is there in front of us. Particularly if it impacts on the status quo. We like things to stay the way they are, especially if we are comfortable where we are. We resist.....

Transformation and change.

We want things to stay as we know them, as we expect them to be, as they are. Even when that maybe uncomfortable, life-sapping and soul destroying, we tend to, or want to at least, stay right where we are.  It is the the frog in the boiler syndrome. We resist…..

Transformation and change

God struggled to get the chosen tribes of Israel to confront change, to leave behind the practices and traditions of the tribes they lived amongst. He sought to get them to leave behind their trust in things, in violence and in strange gods. God was sometimes successful, more than often not, any success was short-lived, and the people soon drifted back to what was familiar.

Jesus complained out of frustration about the lack of faith of his chosen ones, the disciples; the fickleness of the people was well demonstrated with the change from the euphoria of Palm Sunday to the crucify him of Good Friday, and the 'hurry up and come down from the cross' taunts of the religious leaders standing around late in the day.

Jesus was there because he preached transformation and change, the letting go of our dependence on things - material and immaterial - wealth, power, status, control and the familiar.  His sermon on the mount, his outburst in the temple, his countercultural embrace of women, prostitutes and the outcast; all demanded.......

Transformation and change. 

It was ignored then and it is ignored now.

Craig Fitzgibbon, Australian Labor Party minister said this week, ''In Sydney's west you can be on a quarter of a million dollars family income a year and you're still struggling, coal miners in my electorate earning 100, 120, 130, 140 thousand dollars a year are not wealthy.''*

At the same time the ABS statistics released at the beginning of the year says the average income of an Australian worker is just over $70,000. The average income for pensioners is $20,059 single and $30,242 for a couple.There seems to me to be a lot of poor in our society created by an addiction to the great god wealth and possessions by others.

Any conversation started to discuss this discrepancy becomes one in which people become defensive, protecting what they have against those they fear are wanting to poach what they believe they are entitled to. Yet, the good news of Jesus asks us to become countercultural, to let go of our possessiveness and to ensure others have sufficient for their needs. Our present policies and practices fail to demand.....

Transformation and change.

The disciples are summoned to the tomb, having been told the good news. Jesus is risen! You would have thought they would have spread the word quickly and gathered in praise and worship at the tomb. If they wanted a sign of Jesus' authenticity they had it. If they wanted proof Jesus was who he said he was, they had it. If they wanted evidence of his power, here it was. They had nothing to fear now…….

but fear itself.  

And that is it, for them and for us. We fear what will happen next, how the ruling powers of our society will respond, how governments, corporates and financial institutions will respond when we pull the plug on their multi-billion dollar exploitation of the desire for more.  If society embraced  a simplified and minimalist lifestyle, all would be able share more equitably in the wealth and wholeness available.

The disciple feared the Romans and the synagogue heavies, the people who manipulated and controlled the ordinary person through violence and corruption. They didn't want to be blamed for bringing down the military might upon their people; they were also afraid of bringing down the system under which they lived, for fear of what would happen next.

Jesus is risen should have been their cry. It was obvious. The Romans wouldn't have taken the body and run the risk of making him a martyr, the Jews surely wouldn't have for the very same reason and because it occurred on the sabbath. Grave robbers were unlikely to rob the body of a man so poor he was laid in a borrowed grave.

It had to be true. And only the women got it. These were the representatives of those without power or position in their society, ruled over and possessed by men. They were ready for transformation and change, and stayed around in the hoe they had just witnessed it in the empty tomb.

The men went home, where it was safe, where they were comfortable, waiting for something or someone, preferably a man, to tell them, what happened. They weren't going to embrace this transformation and change without more evidence and proof. 

This morning is the beginning of a new way of living and the end of the power of death - not physical death, but the death we suffer when we remain where we are for fear of transformation and change.

The challenge to you and I is this, is this just another Easter day when we walk away and remain the same, or is it the beginning of something new?

Or are we like the disciples, who after witnessing the most awesome event in history, 'returned to their homes'? Worth thinking about. 

They did, and how that changed their world!

*Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/political-news/fitzgibbon-joins-chorus-of-labor-mps-concerned-about-super-tax-20130327-2guo4.html#ixzz2On1FoCsx