Confronting Violence

Matthew 13:24-43

All gardeners know weeds grow no matter how diligent you are. If you are a gardener like me, the weeds always seem to grow better than the plants I planted! A gardener’s main task it seems is to keep the garden clean of weeds.

In todays reading from Matthew we have a landowner who seems to have more than the normal outbreak of weeds amongst his wheat. And the weeds he is dealing with look like the real deal. Called darnel it is a wild wheat like weed that replicates the real wheat. Weeding it out as it grows is a risky task. What is and what isn’t the real wheat? We won’t know until we go to harvest and then we wil sort it out.

Really? Isn’t it too late then? Does this sound like a Jesus who understood rural life or is it a parable from a later edition with a different purpose?

The Jesus Seminar scholars suggest the following: “The parable reflects the concern of a young Christian community attempting to define itself over against an evil world, a concern not characteristic of Jesus. Letting the wheat and weeds grow up together suggests the final judgment rather than agricultural practice.” [Five Gospels, 194]

And the parable itself seems to point in that direction:

40Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age.41The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, 42and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 43Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!

What we have here is another of a number of difficult passages pointing towards a violent end for those who are not of the true faith, the church. It is not our responsibility to judge others; God will do that and will condemn them to a furnace of fire. But don’t worry; we who are righteous will shine like the sun and escape the punishment of those who sit amongst us in this and other communities.

Are we comfortable with this image and language? How does this sit with us in a world where our understanding of people’s behaviour has been influenced by science, psychology and personal experience? Are we able to accept an image of another burning in a fiery furnace and not be challenged by the image of the God it portrays?

Perhaps we are today more comfortable with this concept of punishment than ever before. We live in a surveillance society where one of the fastest growing industries is the prison system; a society in which prison and detainment camps are accepted as part of our response to the plight of others (refugees etc) and where we are quick to condemn others by means of media and hearsay. Perhaps today we are more comfortable with the idea of a last judgement that will separate the wheat from the weeds as long as we are included in the wheat, than ever before.

There is also the fact that we may have become desensitised to the violence in our faith and our liturgy, a violence which reflected a different world view and a different cosmology. On the ABCs the Drum the archbishop addressed the issue of domestic violence and a research paper which stated that Christians from certain styles of Churches are more likely to commit violence on their partners. It was primarily a discussion on the doctrine of headship - males as heads of the household and women as being obedient to that headship. His response is that there will be an apology on this at General Synod if it passes a vote.

At the same time It is important we address the violence in our liturgy and the language of sacrifice and redemption we repeat each time we gather for worship. We need to ask how have we embedded and normalised violence as a symbol of Gods' (understood as male) action in the world and find ways to address this. Domestic and other types of violence are expressions of our acceptance of violence as a way of being in the world and, for the church, violence as an accepted part of Gods action in the world.

It is much bigger than headship.

Are we comfortable with images of eating the body and blood of Jesus, of God sending his son to die on the cross to make us better, of Jesus as the sacrificial lamb of God to be sacrificed because of our failure in order to bring about redemption and peace?

In discussion with many older people I hear things like; “Well, I cringe at some of the things I hear in church”, “I can’t believe any more in some of the stuff we say in our liturgy”, “I have moved on in how I understand what happens but I still like the form of our service” and more.

Or are we disturbed by such language because it does not depict the God of our experience or the one discovered by rational and critical reflection? Are we ready to explore new ways of taking the ideas expressed in the scriptures and our liturgy and begin to craft a new way of doing church that is relevant to a modern worldview?

Matthew was writing for a community in the midst of a battle to control the synagogue, a battle between traditional religion and the embryonic group who followed Jesus. Matthew was employing language which basically said, let us not try and identify who is a true follower of Jesus, let’s leave that up to God. In doing so he employed an image understand by those reading his words.

We are living in a very different time and with a very different understanding of how the world, and God, works.  Is the language of such as the Agnus Dei (which you may have noticed is not part of the 10am service book) relevant or does it take us back to an understanding of human sacrifice Abraham left behind when he decided to sacrifice the sheep instead of Isaac? Are these words and the story they tell the story of God that is your story?

Jesus, Lamb of God, have mercy on us.

Jesus, bearer of our sins, have mercy on us.

Jesus, redeemer of the world, grant us peace.

I spend much time with people who are wracked with guilt and shame, much if it seemingly imputed by words they have listened to over and over again in their church liturgy. Is it not time for a careful look at what we say simply because it is our tradition to say these words? Is it time to consider new images and options in order that what we know in our head is no longer in conflict with what we are asked to believe?

Now I know that this may be difficult for some, but the word acts and what we say influences how we see and accept what is happening in the world. Is our acceptance of the violence we see around us influenced by our acceptance of the apparent violence in our faith we attest to each week?

Perhaps it is time for us to begin the discussion on just what we need to be saying and how that reflects our informed understanding of God, faith and scripture. This is a subject our worship committee, like the wider Anglican Church here and overseas, is thinking about and we would be happy to hear your ideas and suggestions in writing.

Matthew’s Jesus poses us a modern challenge, to bring the message of the kingdom of God into sync with the time in which we live, just as he attempted to do to those he was representing at the beginning of the church. Amen.

Why Church?

Luke 23:13-35

 

Why church? Why go to church? Why are you here this morning and every other morning? What gets you out of bed and instead of having a lazy breakfast, a potter in the garden or a trip to the footy, why do you come to church?

 

What is it about this place that is important to you?  Some of you have been coming here to this particular church for several decades, most of you have been going to church since you were a small child, why? What is it about church that matters?

 

We live in a world where truth is questioned, metanarratives like the Christian faith story are not trusted or believed; instead it seems to be a mechanical world in which only scientific or productive narratives hold sway. Every action, thought or idea must have a practical and financial outcome. We are looking for product, return on investment and ownership. We need progress; the key indicator for a successful society is one that is growing by an agreeable percentage point each year. Our businesses must be more successful and earn more, we must produce at the cheapest level possible and sell at the highest level possible. We ignore local communities and exploit foreign workforces to do so. Local, small and connected to a narrative that gives life to community simply has no place in the modern economic kingdoms of large corporations and the governments they control.

 

Even the church, the institutional church, is on about growth, numbers, systems, programs, key performance indicators and outcomes. No longer are we allowed the time to simply cogitate on life and bring forth wisdom to feed and nurture our local communities.

 

The success of indigenous communities over the ages, where ever they have been found, has been their connection to place, people and time. They know the place they live in deeply, they understand their interdependence upon each other and they also know that the greatest asset they have is time. 50,000 years is what it took for indigenous communities to learn to live in harmony with place and people. It has taken the mechanistic world a little over 200 years to have a serious impact upon it.

 

Why church? Why the seemingly use-less-ness of church? Why is it important? And why should it have our full attention and support?

 

On the road to Emmaus two men are deeply engrossed in the politics of the day. They were personally involved in this story and it has apparently collapsed without producing the outcome they sought – revolution and a new world. They are despondent and closed in on themselves, having lost the narrative giving meaning to their existence. They are joined by another whom they hardly acknowledge, just as we would as we bump into people on the train, the tram on in the corridors of Chadstone shopping centre – aware that they are there but not taking notice of particulars.

 

Their eyes are closed. Their concern for their own worries prevent them from seeing who is right their in front of them. It is so easy to walk around with eyes closed. Even when we come to church, we can come with eyes closed. We bring with us all the concerns of our daily grind and go through the motions. We are comforted by the presence of familiar faces, familiar music and the familiar liturgy, but are our eyes open? Do we see who is standing next to us and who we owe our very existence to? Do we understand that this not about our concerns and our issues, but about the amazing hesed – unfailing companionship and compassion – of the Christ and that we owe everything to the Godhead who keeps and empowers us – even in the midst of our ordinary lives?

 

In this story, Jesus becomes the interpreter of the political events, of the events of society and explains what has been playing out in the world around them. And their eyes are still closed. Knowledge and information do not open closed eyes. Recent scientific evidence suggests that people are so impacted by preconceived ideas and prejudices that facts do not change their minds. Here is a case in point. Despite hearing everything about what had happened from the one who was there in a way no one else could, their eyes remain closed.

 

This is often the case for us, we are so committed to our opinions on, our knowledge about God and faith,  and our expectations about life and church that we fail to see what is happening and what is needed; we fail to see why we actually come to church. These men almost get this.  They are moved, challenged, enlightened by what Jesus says, but their eyes remain closed. The intellectual and evidential truth of Jesus’ words fail to move them out of their own self-interest – out of their concern for themselves.

 

Jesus stays with them for dinner and something happens, we are not sure exactly what it is but in the breaking of the bread a light goes on in the head and their eyes are open. In this moment of deep personal encounter with the symbolism of faith they see, as for the very first time, who is at the centre of their lives. Not just their faith but their lives. 

Here is a deep recognition of the centrality of the Christ to our identity, existence and being. Their world is refocussed and instead of going on with their ordinary lives centred solely on themselves, they return to Jerusalem, driven by the realisation that their life is no longer their own. 

Even though their hearts burned with in them on the road, nothing changed for them. We can be made warm and fuzzy by our attendance at church without being revolutionised by the Christ. It is the deep sacramental realisation that there is no thing else but the church and that our lives are to be completely oriented toward the church, the body of Christ, and its advancement counter-culturally into the world.

 

They get up immediately, abandon whatever their plans were and go back to Jerusalem and take up the mission of the church. There is no hesitation, no second guessing, no concern for their needs or desires; they return empty handed but open eyed into the church.

 

Why church?

 

·      Because there is no other response to the love of God and the indwelling presence of the Christ;

• Because there is no other response to the faithfulness of God to us;
• Because there is no other response to the beauty and mystery of creation;
• Because there is nothing more important than the maintenance and advancement of Christ’s body in the community in which we live.

 Why church?

• This is why we give of ourselves sacrificially in service and financial support. 
• This is why we give to the church before we give to ourselves.
• This is why we give up our comfortable beds to be here, because there is no other choice for us.

Why church? 

Because all the other experiences in the world do not open our eyes to the truth about the Christ we encounter like the moment we meet Jesus in the Church, his mystical body alive in the world. 

Witchetty Grubs, Gumtrees and All The Saints

Luke 6:20-31

 

 

Today we are celebrating All Saints Day. The tradition of celebrating the saints and martyrs has been marked by Christians ever since the 4th century the Feast of All Holy Martyrs.

 

In 837AD Pope Gregory IV extended the festival to include saints, renaming the festival the Feast of All Saints, all who were martyred or who lived an exemplary life.

 

In recent times this has been widened to include everyone who is a Christian. We are all saints, in a biblical sense.

 

All Saints Day is a time to be thankful for all those Christians who have lived before us, whether they are officially saints or not. Some are the great teachers and prophets from history. Some are those who’ve taught and inspired us personally.

 

Some are our friends and family. We can thank God for their witness, and for the way they have transmitted the faith down the generations. We can learn from their lives. We can take time to be grateful for what we’ve received, and to recommit ourselves to follow in their footsteps.*

 

Interestingly, the reading from Luke’s Gospel takes us into a radical new place and challenges the narrow understanding of this day. In this passage Jesus moves from the narrow understanding of who was included in God’s economy and how that was to be defined.  He continues, as he has done repeatedly in Luke, to prefer the poor and to diminish those who would have seen themselves as belonging to the inner circle, the blessed, the rich, those with names and with power.

 

He instructs his followers to be inclusive even at the risk of personal recrimination and harm. He tells people to defy the accepted rules of engagement with others and to take it to and beyond the limits in place to make the intolerable tolerable. Soldiers, legally, could only make you carry their bags a certain distance so defy them and carry it twice as far and see what happens. Force the person to hit you with the back of the hand which was against law and practice. This is not about doing good, but about challenging the injustice inherent in the system.

 

Jesus takes it further and says we are to do unto others what we would want them to do unto us. This is an incredibly challenging statement. It is not a golden rule, it is a deep dark gold mine we are challenged to explore and to live. It is not about our relationships with those like us. It doesn’t even stop at simply celebrating saints who fit into our perception of life, faith and religion. It is not about our closed and isolated community but about the ever-expanding community of life on and beyond this planet.

 

Saints are not just humans, and especially not just humans who share our ethnicity, our values or our lifestyle. Saints are present in communities unlike ours, in peoples we fear and in the created world we continue to exploit.

 

Throughout history peoples of all backgrounds have sought to recognise God at work in their world. These cultures have discerned wisdom and insights both individual and universal, providing us with a web of spiritual and religious wisdom informing and expanding our own. To ignore such for an exclusive us only variety diminishes all of us. Thomas Merton, Henry Nouwen, Rowan Williams, Elizabeth Johnson, Sallie McFague, Pope Francis and many many others  have initiated and maintained communion with the saints of other faiths and practices in order to add to and affirm what they already know or suspect. So should we.

 

In the book of Job we read, “But ask the animals, and they will teach you; the birds of the air, and they will tell you;” Other versions use the word beasts, a deeply primal and free expression of God’s creativity, full of the capacity to teach, mentor and lead us. They too fit the definition of saints and deserve to be treated in the way we wish to be treated.

Wendell Berry speaks eloquently of this communion of saints when reflecting on the cycle of life in forests and plains, swamps and deserts, and everywhere in the natural world we inhabit; “They die into each other’s life, and live into each other’s death…and this exchange goes on and on, round and round, the Wheel of Life rising out of the soil, descending into it, through the bodies of creatures”.

 

In this century science and our expanding universe asks us to let go of the simple anthropomorphic (human centred) understanding of creation and Gods economy (kingdom) and to come into a relationship of respect, compassion and justice – the way of kindness - with all whom we share this world with. We are to recognise the wisdom inherent in others of all ethnicities, faiths and backgrounds and to sit in the desert and hear the wisdom of the beasts and all that maintains our planet and our lifestyle.

 

Failing to do so will continue the process of destruction of peoples through senseless wars, embargoes, bans and bombs. Saints are dying in places like Yemen, West Papua, Aleppo,  Philippines, the Sudan, Burma, remote communities of Australia and Manus Island. Saints are being banned from bringing their wisdom here for the crime of wanting a better life. Saints, such as these, must be welcomed in our country or we fail the test of doing unto others.

 

Failure will diminish the incredible success of the theory of evolution by natural selection in giving us the immense diversity of thousands of years of refining creation. Within that process there are many saints, past and present, responsible for giving us sustenance, oxygen, and sustainability – trees, birds, fish, oceans, mountains and rivers not to mention bugs, mosquitos, flies, microbes and more. We rarely include them in our list of saints or in our prayers on all saints day, but they are there by default, central to the on going creation of our world.

 

On this all Saints Day we are asked to expand our worldview to include difference and diversity, to find a place in our religion for all who have been created in the image of God; meaning those with the capacity to create and continue to create the unbelievable, and for many of us, the unfathomable complexity of our habitat.

 

By doing so we will be challenged about our relationships with others including the creatures we share this world with. We will begin to see such as deserving to be treated, in the words of Jesus, as we wish to be treated. “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” We are to write this across all our transactions, relationships and interactions with those we share this world with, and this world itself.

 

It is recognising the sainthood of all things, not just selected humans of specific gifts and talents. It is recognising that we entertain angels, saints, in each and every transaction we participate in. Detainees, victims of war, dislocated refugees and first nations peoples around the world, practitioners of other faiths, old growth forests, witchetty grubs and more carry the wisdom we need to maintain and care for ourselves, others and this world.

 

On this All Saints Day let us take just a few moments to quietly remember all saints of all kinds now. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

9 to 1

Luke 17:11-19

 

Standing in the old section of the Burwood Cemetery we were surrounded by the graves of young children, many of whom were under the age of 12. The two teenagers with us were intrigued as to why this was the case. We explained that 3 or more generations ago people died young of diseases we no longer see as fatal – measles, chicken pox, colds, appendicitis and more. Also those who lived didn’t enjoy the same preferred position in families as they do to day. Education above primary school was rare and the idea of a career of their choice simply not on the agenda.

 

For these two young men, this story was both foreign and outside of their experience. What they took for granted simply wasn’t available to those young people whose headstones dotted the immediate surrounds. It was for them, and possibly is for some of us, almost impossible to imagine a world different to theirs/our experience. As a result we can fall into the trap of taking what we have now as always being the way it was.

 

We take life, our life for granted and when something happens contrary we become anxious and angry that our expectations are not met. Our life has become narcissistic to the point that we cannot imagine it being any other way than it is now. If it is out of balance we seek to regain the life we are used to without being grateful when we do.

 

This little pericope of Jesus is not so much about gratitude but about the expectation of entitlement, taking life for granted. 10 people encounter Jesus. All 10 are sick and have an illness described here as leprosy. It may not have been leprosy in the strict definition, but because of a skin ailment their lives were out of balance. The normal life function of relationships, work and religious practice was not available to them. They were outcasts, marginalised by their illnesses and seeking to find a way to become participants, once again, in the normal activities of life.

 

They meet Jesus, and are healed. Jesus sends them on their way, 9 keep going, only one stops, turns around and says thanks. It is here that Jesus pronounces, ““Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” Now this raises some interesting questions. We are told that all are healed, but only this one is made well, what does that mean? Is gratitude evidence of something more than healng the physical illness? Is wellness different or deeper than the physical cleansing? Is faith more than simply wanting something good to happen, is it about depth, deep speaking unto deep, where we glean the truth that something more is at work here than physical healing?

 

Many years ago, when I attended AA, I used to notice that there were at least two groups of people at meetings, those for whom the joy of life had returned in soberiety and those who, while sober, still moaned about how difficult it was each day. The latter would stand at every meeting they attended and go on and on about how hard it was to be sober, the temptations, the difficulties and then lapse into a protracted sense of martyrdom for continuing to remain sober. Somehow we were to applaud their stoicism in the face of great strife.

 

An old AA man would say, “Any one can get sober, only a few master sobriety.” A very wise statement reflected in our story today. Any one can get healed, only a few master the art of living well. The Samaritan begins the journey by stopping, turning around and recognising the hope he has received.

 

The other 9 took it all for granted. Life went on with their ego self at the centre of all things; the only difference was they no longer had the skin disease. Had anything really changed for them? Were they convinced that this was their right and finally all had returned to the way it always was before they got sick?

 

The Samaritan’s faith made him well. Jesus distinguishes between the 9 and the 1 by recognising the 1’s faith, a faith that was only activated when he stopped, took stock, turned around and recognised the source of his healing. Faith here refers to a conviction that results in reflection and metanoia, a complete about face or change in direction. The 9 were healed by God’s grace; the 1 was made well by his awareness of the mystery lying at the centre of his experience of Jesus.

 

Wellness is more than healing, and sometimes, is present when there is no healing. People are well when they recognise the joy and hope of life in the midst of illness, tragedy and loss. People are well when they retain their balance and embrace challenges, opportunities and possibilities despite the lack of healing or closure. People are well when they are able to grasp the mystery of creation in all things they encounter.

 

This is a story about great hope hidden in the everyday we take for granted. Like the 9, we are so busy going on, we miss the gems staring us in the face. As my father would say if we couldn’t see or find something; “If it had been a snake it would have bitten you”. In other words we miss the bleeding obvious in search of the more we not ready to receive. The 9 were excited to be normal that they forget to receive fully what they had been given.

 

How easy it is for us to do this in our lives. Materially we live in a world full of extraordinary experiences we take for granted. We have possessions, experiences, opportunities people of past generations could never have imagined, yet we act as if that is the way it has always been. We expect the stuff we have without a thought of gratitude. We take for granted stuff people in 2/3’rds of the world have never had – fresh water, accommodation, regular meals, work and access to health services. We get upset when the Internet is down, winds blow over power poles and the freeway is blocked because we take it for granted we can get our way with life. We become one of the 9 and fail to recognise just how blessed we are.

 

Spiritually human beings have made themselves the centre of the Good News, more so, we as individuals have made ourselves the unique project of the incarnation and the resurrection. Somehow that story is all about us and we take it for granted that we have God on speed dial, that God only has eyes for us. Modern individualism makes us sure of our place in God’s plan that we get upset when things don’t go our way. Why has this happened? Why me? What have I done? We walk away with the 9 unaware that there is more at work here than meets the cursory glance. Spiritually we are challenged to stop, reflect and turn around, embracing the unknown just below the surface.

 

Until we do we will continue to walk in the footsteps of the 9. 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

Is Christianity A Progressive Faith?

John 15:1-8

Do you remember when sending a letter by post was not called ‘Snail mail’ and when a human being said ‘you’ve got mail’ they meant something in the mailbox (remember them)? Today the post box at the post office sends you an email to let you know there is mail waiting for you. Cars were once only powered by a petrol driven motor, now you can buy a car that runs on batteries - the Tesla has recently been released in Australia. Why some people would say that the only constant is change and hint that change is not always progress. I would suggest that humans are wired for change and progress. Even in their faith.

Christianity is a progressive faith. It is never stagnant nor regressive. It’s very essence is to move into life not into death.  Each action, comment and teaching of Jesus is about transformation and resurrection.

 

We do not, cannot, must not, stand still.

 

For many years my father worked in a vineyard. He worked in the cellar nurturing wine for the winemaker. His product was a growth industry. The grapes grew on vines that had been well pruned and cultured. Then the grapes found their way to crushers separating the skins from the juice and then the juice sat in large vats sitting on top of the skins for colour and taste. This was a  journey and process of transformation that began with the secateurs of the vineyard staff.

 

Jesus uses the very same image here and it is a positive image. This is not about punishment and reward. If you fail to bear fruit you will be pruned and left to fall barren to the ground. Pruning is an imager of encouraging and enhancing transformation. What is dead is let go, what is alive is encouraged to be more alive, more fruitful. The pruner looks for the signs of life and ensures that it is given all it needs to produce.

 

In Jesus the vineyard worker is interested in the here and now. What is going to bear fruit in this place and time. It is earthy realism. Life lived in the present world. That is the Christian faith. It is about bringing justice and peace, God’s dream for the world, into being right where we are.

 

Over the years Christianity has, like other religions, been focussed on the other world, heaven in what ever words used to describe it. Early Christians saw it as their duty to be martyred so as to go and be with the Jesus in heaven. For many this was the goal up until relatively recently in historical terms. For some fundamentalists this is still the goal. To go and be with Jesus as soon as practicable.

 

Unlike Christianity, Islam is other world focus. As a result of the strict adherence to the Quran, history stopped with the death of the Prophet. Therefore there is nothing to live for here. Everything is focussed on their understanding of heaven and of martyrdom. In this sense, Islam is not a progressive religion and will, without a major reformation always struggle to be one.

 

For Christians, faith is an embodied experience lived in the here and now. Incarnation is key to a disciples understanding of the world. Faith is not an escape but an invitation to live here & now, in & of people and creation for that is what God did in and through the life of Jesus. The incarnation of Christ values our humanity. Jesus became like us so we could become like God.

 

The idea of working out our salvation here on earth is that we become more and more God-like and less and less ego-like. It is not that our works save us, but that our works validate and authenticate our status as children of God. Our works give evidence to our faith. We are on the journey to becoming one with God, what Julian of Norwich calls –‘one-ing’. Our lives are combination of little deaths, transformations and resurrections every day.

 

We grow and change, live and die to experiences, make mistakes and endure failures to learn and grow. Thomas Merton suggests that the only person who is inconsistent is the person who is all was consistent, whose views never change, whose perspective on the world always stays the same. He suggests we should not trust such a person because they have never experienced life or have experienced life and failed to reflect, contemplate and process what they have experienced.

 

This is the process of the vineyard John has Jesus use here. Life, in all its joys and sadness, success and failures, slowly cuts away the dead wood in our lives to allow us to leave behind the false self of the ego and to discover the true self of God within us. Marcus Borg suggests that the word repentance refers to going beyond our mind, the mind we have at this moment.  This idea suggests that sin is in some way attached to how we see the world through our ego, that it is all about our self.

 

What was seen as the norm in the past no longer is because we have gone beyond the mind, the thinking we had then. The world is round, not flat, the world orbits the sun, not the other way around, slavery is wrong, women are to be treated the same as men and more show us we have repented and continue to do so.

  

The events of the last few days in Bali point to the fact that this process is continuing and needs to continue. Some 52 countries in the world, including the US practice the death penalty. Nowhere in Australia does but there is still such a statute on the books in NSW. How we treat others who are different to us and come to this country for refuge asks us to repent and go beyond the mind of fear and control.

 

A life lived in Christ:

·      Values past experience – builds on the past, is grateful for what has been done by  and the example of  Jesus

 

·      Focuses on the now – values self, others & the experience of love in the present moment

 

·      Welcomes the future, but lives fully not dies gradually, for it.

 

Each Sunday, in the Great Thanksgiving we remind ourselves of the mystery of our faith, which is not exactly a mystery. The so called mystery of faith reminds us that we are a people of the past, of the present and of the future, not as separate categories but as a whole.  God’s time or kairos breaks in on us, not in a linear or horizontal way, but vertically, cutting through all categories of experience at once. We know Christ has died to deal with the fear of death in all its forms, that Christ is risen and present giving life and resurrection now, and that he will come again to herald in God’s dream for the world, the just and peaceful realm of God.

 

Let us repent and take on the mind of the incarnated God who through the life and death on the Cross embodied the dream of God in this world. Amen

  

Critical Thinking & Faith

Have you ever had a light bulb moment, an epiphany, that moment when you see something clearly for the first time and go ‘aha’! After a time of ecstatic joy we often pose the question, ‘What does this mean for me?’ Great moments come with more work to do.

Peter has one of those moments. Jesus asks the disciples who he is (Mark 8:27-30). They reply what they have heard from others. When you speak to people about who God is they often reply with other peoples answers. Rarely do you hear what they think.

Peter gives his own answer. The Messiah. Jesus doesn’t applaud him. No gold star for Peter. The other disciples are told not to talk about who Peter thinks Jesus is. This is a light bulb moment, which is going to take an eternity to unpack. Don’t go off with undigested ideas.

Critical thinking is vital to our understanding of Jesus and faith. We need the skills of questioning, recognition, articulation and reflection to allow us to fully discover who He is. Under the questioning of Jesus, Peter achieves recognition. This questioning had been going on for sometime, always leading back to the ‘Who do you say I am?’ Peter articulates what he has arrived at.

Jesus says don’t say anything to anyone. They were not yet ready to articulate what they had discovered. They didn’t have the language, knowledge or the lived experience to.

But when Peter gets it right on the day of Pentecost he is powerful and persuasive, fully possessed of the knowledge he only now glimpses. Jesus is right to allow them time to observe, reflect and experience the truth they discovered before letting them take into the rest of the world.

This Easter we only glimpse the possibilities invested in Jesus, yet as we observe, reflect and experience Him may we become empowered as Peter and the Disciples did.