I have a friend who tortures the rest of us with his puns. When reading through a long essay that he has posted on Facebook, you are always alert, waiting for the inevitable facepalming pun, that reverses the whole meaning of the story.

I have the same trepidation when reading parables. Like puns, parables have other meanings that subvert a superficial reading of the text. When reading parables, I’m alert wanting to be ready for the inevitable subversion beyond the initial reading.

The trepidation in reading parables reaches its climax in Matthew 25. A quick superficial reading leaves the parables as moral tales, but will a closer reading of Matthew 25, reveal a “pun” another meaning?

The view that Jesus is a spiritual teacher of divine wisdom and that the parables are spiritual sermons is challenged by the political nature of his death and the prophetic subversity with which Jesus challenged the status. The trial and execution of Jesus as an agitator shows that Jesus was a threat to the political and economic interests of the Jewish elite who collaborated with Roman powers to crucify Jesus. Thus, the political and subversive effects of Jesus ministry prevent an overly spiritualised interpretation and force us to consider political and economic understandings. For example, ¨traditional¨ interpretations have described the parable of the talents as being ¨spiritual gifts¨ and not money. The virgins that run out of oil are explained as people who do not prioritise prayer. The five virgins who refuse to share their oil with those who do not have, cannot be justified in the light of Christ's actions and his stories of sharing, for example the feeding of the five thousand and the last supper where his body and blood are “shared”.

The man going on a journey (v14) implies an absent God, if this is assumed to be the God figure. This view of an absent God is exacerbated by the third slave´s interpretation of him as harsh: “I know that you are a harsh man.” The nobleman does not refute this but agrees with the assessment: “you know that I am a harsh man”. In contrast Jesus emphasises the love of God, as do the New Testament writers that follow his teachings: “God is love and those who dwell in love dwell in God” (See 1 John). Matthew 25 is not three separate parables with three separate meanings. A close examination of the Greek text will refute this. Each of the parables is connected to the other with the words hoster gar. My argument is that Matthew 25 should be understood as one parable with three chapters.

If the reader agrees that Matthew 25 represents not three but one parable, then the following argument may be considered:

In Biblical exegesis, when there are three aspects of a text, attention is often drawn to the middle section. In other words the middle ¨chapter¨ of Matthew 25 is the key. The first ¨chapter¨ prepares the reader for the second ¨chapter¨ while the third ¨chapter¨ vindicated the actions of the second ¨chapter¨.  In the light of this argument, the message of the first ¨chapter¨ is to be awake for a new insight which comes in chapter two.

In chapter two the nobleman is not the God figure but an absentee lord who bleeds the land dry even in his absence. Greed is such a drive for him that even in his absence he expects his assets to yield a return. This interpretation is offered in the light of sociological background. Only the wealthy could ¨travel abroad.¨ The nobleman´s wealth was because of injustice. The synoptic Gospels refer to those who join field to field leaving many vulnerable, economically deprived and in debt. In Matthew 24 Jesus offers a similar critique against the temple wealth. The initial hearers of this parable would have resented the nobleman who goes away for a long time, he represents the cause of their economic suffering. This is made clear in Luke’s telling of the Parable which is a direct reference to King Herod: In Luke 19.11 – 27 the image of the noble man is Herod:

12So (Jesus) said, ‘A nobleman went to a distant country to get royal power for himself and then return. 13He summoned ten of his slaves, and gave them ten pounds,* and said to them, “Do business with these until I come back.” 14But the citizens of his country hated him and sent a delegation after him, saying, “We do not want this man to rule over us.” 15When he returned, having received royal power, he ordered these slaves, to whom he had given the money, to be summoned so that he might find out what they had gained by trading.

On his return the first two slaves are welcomed into the oppressive paradigm of the nobleman hence he congratulates them. The third slave speaks truth to power and criticises the harsh man who reaps where he does not sow. The nobleman agrees with this interpretation and throws him out into outer darkness. In other interpretations, writers have considered this an image of hell. It is not. It represents the Gospel ideal of solidarity with the oppressed. The outer darkness is to be with those who suffer, who are hungry, naked and in prison. To be in outer darkness is to stand outside the oppressive paradigm. This opinion is confirmed by the third chapter of the parable where those who stood in solidarity with the oppressed are seen to be living the Jesus ideal; in other words feeding the hungry, visiting those in prison and clothing the naked. 

Crudely put, the interpretation of this parable is that the parable is not a story about heaven but rather a story about earth and how we design our economic and political systems in a way that is consistent or inconsistent with the Jesus event.   If you agree with the decoding of Matthew 25 as argued here, we are then equipped with relevant tools with which to understand systems of oppression which is the first step in dismantling them. Some examples include

1)   Criticising exploitive financial services who ¨reap where they do not sow¨ and take advantage of the poor especially.

2)   Criticising corporate institutions who are able to manipulate the markets to their excessive financial gain but to the impoverishment of many. A recent example may be the events that led directly to the Global Financial Crisis.

3)   Exploring ways in which we too can be cast into outer darkness and how solidarity with the poor (the hungry, the naked and those in prison) can take shape.

4)   Baptism for us means being this third slave, the one who speaks truth to power and is cast out into outer darkness to love the poor, the rejected, the hungry, and those who live outside the systems of power.

How do we measure human flourishing? How do we measure the success of the nations of the world? Since the Great Depression, GNP (Gross National Product) was developed as a way to measure how countries were emerging out of the Great Depression into sustainability. GNP was introduced on the floor of congress in the USA in 1937. It was never meant as a way to compare nations. Today GDP (Gross Domestic Product) is closely watched as an economic indicator of a country’s growth. GDP determines whether or not investors decide to make investments in a country or not, obviously low GDP = low stock prices = low earnings = poverty. Using GDP as a measurement, unsurprisingly, the measure of the nations is

1st USA

2nd China

Last Tuvalu.

What GDP hides is how that wealth is shared, where in some rich countries 80 percent of the wealth is controlled by 20 percent of the people. Moreover, tragedies such as bush fires, COVID pandemics, cyclones etc INCREASE GDP as millions are spent in rebuilding countries.

Are there other ways to measure the wellbeing of a country? King Jigme Singye Wangchuckj of Bhutan rejects GDP. Instead from 1972 Bhutan measures the Gross National Happiness. Through randomised interviews, 9 variables are measured:

·         living standards

·         health

·         good governance

·         ecological diversity

·         resilience

·         time use

·         psychological wellbeing

·         cultural diversity and resilience

·         community vitality.

Similarly, Matthew 25:31-46 reveals the key to human flourishing. Those nations that value feeding the poor, clothing the naked, visiting those in prison and serving in love, are those judged by the Son of Man as successful.

According to an old tradition preserved in the Palestinian Targums, wrote Ron Hendel, the Hebrew Bible is the “Book of Memories” (ספר דנכריא) … The remembered past, is the material with which biblical Israel constructed its identity as a people, a religion, and a culture.” [i]

Ernest Renan states that national identity depends on “the possession in common of a rich legacy of memories”; but significantly, he adds, “Forgetting, I would even go so far as to say historical error, is a crucial factor in the creation of a nation.” [ii]  I would add that it is a stumbling block.  

National, ethnic, and religious identities are founded on a complex dialectic of memory and forgetting. Israel’s OT memories, a mixture of history, poetry and mythology “are inevitably laced with the unhistorical”,[iii] coloured by literary influences, and political and religious interests. “Culture, history and memory interweave in the biblical accounts of the Patriarchs, bringing to us a past that is”, in Rendel’s words, “a marvellous blend of public memory, religious vision, and literary brilliance”.[iv]  

Today we have Remembrance Sunday in mind. And, as time goes by, I wonder more and more what exactly are we supposed to remember? Is what we “remember” on this day truly historical, or is it a slowly developing mythology? What will the people of the year 4000 CE be saying about our memories – supposing they have access to them? What will their remembrances be? 

The other day I noticed, perhaps belatedly, that the memorial in the Elizabeth Ann Brown Park is now partly cordoned off with notices saying, “Sacred War Memorial, Please Keep Off.”  

Firstly, and particularly in view of the fact that this is NAIDOC Week, it is insensitive to the Bundjalung Nation, the traditional owners of the land which hosts our Memorial; and upon whose land I preach today. The absurdity of the demand is illuminated in the shocking disregard white culture has for Aboriginal Memorials of similar ilk.  

Secondly, my dictionary defines the word sacred as meaning “connected with God (or the gods) or dedicated to a religious purpose and so deserving veneration. So, do we have the seeds of a new religion in our local park? Who is responsible? And will it have a temple like ancient Israel? The National War Memorial perhaps? My imagination reels. A new priesthood of uniformed officers whose habits could well outdo the colourful fineries of the best Catholic liturgical garb?  

What exactly are we supposed to remember? And what is an appropriate way to do so? Canon Rachel Mann in her book Fierce Imaginings, wants us to hear “some of the lost and never-heard voices of the Great War”.  

… to take seriously the stark truth about the loss that the First World War brought about: the loss of countless young men, whose voices never counted in the first place in our society; the loss of the capacity to talk about their wounded experiences by those who survived; the loss of certain myths about manhood; and the loss of a God who providentially ordered history and protected his own. [v] 

With a nod to Ronald Rendel, we must bear in mind that stark truths, especially unacknowledged ones, the hidden ones, tend to get lost in mythologies “laced with the unhistorical”, or disappear altogether.  

In 1959, Geoffrey Hill published two sonnets under the title “Two Formal Elegies for the Jews of Europe”. Much of his work explores the use of art as an act of atonement to give voice to the victims of the Holocaust, and that bears witness to other historical atrocities, all in a world that has become “witness-proof”. The second sonnet ponders the worth and actual nature of sacrifice. 

2

For all that must be gone through, their long death
Documented and safe, we have enough
Witnesses (our world being witness-proof),
The sea flickers, roars, in its wide hearth.
Here, yearly, the pushing midlanders stand
To warm themselves; men brawny with life,
Women who expect life. They relieve
Their thickening bodies, settle on scraped sand.

Is it good to remind them, on a brief screen,
Of what they have witnessed and not seen?
(Deaths of the city that persistently dies…?)
To put up stones ensures some sacrifice,
Sufficient men confer, carry their weight.
(At whose door does the sacrifice stand or start?)
1959[vi] 

Erecting historical monuments, says Hill, to the Holocaust ensures “some sacrifice" by "sufficient men” who carry their weight, but in his sonnet the words "some" and "sufficient" vibrate with doubt. 

And, the poet draws attention to “the inadequacy of witness, which can never fully recapture and convey the experience of the past to those living in the present, even for those events that seem relatively recent.” He “contrasts what is ‘witnessed’ with what is ‘seen’,” and he points to the “deficiencies of memory, as though even those who lived through traumatic events cannot fully comprehend them”.

“That”, said Mark Oatley, “is why we need visible memorials: if we are not to be dishonest, shallow and unreal we need to make the invisible visible.”[vii] And today’s memorials have a much broader canvas, for the unknown and unacknowledged are also represented. Let it be so; but let us not turn them into temples for sacred festivals.  

The original motive for Remembrance Day was, quite simply, to remember the fallen. But that simplicity embraces the unthinkable horror that war brings to individuals, communities and nations. The two-minute silence was first proposed by the Mayor of Cape Town in 1918 – for the whole city, marked by the noon day gun on Signal Hill. It was an awesome experience for the Cape Town citizens. The whole city, silent as a grave. Every day from 14 May 1918 to 14 May 1919. 

So – what do we remember? Certainly, the fallen, the maimed, the mangled lives; but also, perforce, the unknown that has escaped the notice of history and narrative – that is to say, the things we do not know, or have forgotten, or do not wish to bring to mind. So, when we say, “Lest we forget,” let our remembrance be not only for the things we know as historical fact, but also the things we do not know – “Not known because not looked for”, as T S Eliot might have put it.[viii] George Eliot’s concluding paragraph of Middlemarch gives eloquent expression to this. 

… the good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs. 

The other dimension of remembrance, as Mark Oatley remarked, is the “non-negotiable God-given dignity and preciousness of each human life, the beauties and strength of friendship and love, the courage of working for what is just and fair.”[ix] These, too, we must remember in their purity. That is why a pledge for the future is now part of remembrance services. For “we cannot talk about freedom without embracing responsibilities and values”.[x]  

Let us know. Let us remember. Let us change. Lest we forget.

Amen. 

Doug Bannerman Ó 2020

[1] Ronald Hendel Remembering Abraham; Culture, Memory, and History in the Hebrew Bible Oxford University Press (2005) Preface pX

[1] E. Renan, “What Is a Nation?” in Nation and Narration, ed. H.Bhabha (London: Routledge, 1990), 19, 11 (French original, 1882) my italics – Among the many recent studies of these issues, see particularly B. Anderson,  Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism , 2nded. (London: Verso, 1991), 187–206 (“Memory and Forgetting”); and A. D. Smith, Myths and Memories of the Nation (Oxford: Oxford University Press,1999).

[1] Op cit Ronald Hendel pX

[1] Ibid

[1] See Fr Kevin Morris, see https://www.smaaa.org.uk/wp/worship/services/preachers-and-sermons/sermons-by-fr-kevin-morris/remembrance-sunday-2017-sermon-by-the-vicar-fr-kevin-morris/

[1] From “Two Formal Elegies: For the Jews in Europe”, Geoffrey Hill (UK, 1932-2016)

[1] Stephen William Grace, PhD “Forms of Memory: The Sonnet in Contemporary British and Irish Poetry” (University of York, English and Related Literature September 2019 p28)

[1] Mark Oatley Monday 12th November, 2007. See https://www.st-albans.dk/publications/sermons/remembrance-sunday-2007/

[1] T S Eliot “Little Gidding” lines 248, 249

[1] Op cit Mark Oatley

[1] Ibid

NAIDOC Theme 2020 ‘Always Was. Always will Be.’  The 2020 National NAIDOC Week theme has been developed to shine a focus on the length of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander occupation of Australia. In our narratives Aboriginal people talk of continuous occupation of being here when time began, we are part of the Dreaming – past, present and future. Anthropologists and archaeologists have dated our sites to being hundreds of thousands of years old, in fact recording some of these sites as being the oldest on this planet. Additionally, the NAIDOC theme seeks to get the community to explore and learn about, and appreciate the wealth and breadth of Indigenous Nations, languages and knowledges of this continent. Exploring and learning about Indigenous understandings of the environment, plants, animals, greater astronomy and cosmology, waters, land use and protection, Indigenous sciences and maths. We need to question ourselves and understand:

How does learning these knowledges expand current western teachings to have a greater understanding of the world around us as individuals, as a community of learners and activists in looking after our environments?  

https://www.naidoc.org.au/sites/default/files/files/2020-naidoc-teaching-resources.pdf

Jesus shares the 'future-shock' aspect of his return (Matthew 24). He likens this to the time of Noah's flood when people were continuing with 'normal activities'. He describes cosmic events which will accompany the revealing of the Son of Man.

Perhaps now, as 'COVID veterans' we may suffer the distinct disadvantage of too easily dismissing future events of universal importance. In Mt 25, the final event of world-wide significance seems to highlight these three salient points:

·         Unpredictability (vs 5)

·         The need to prepare! (vs 6)

·         Readiness non-transferable! (vs8-12)

Let's pray that our COVID experience has sensitised us to events of possible world-wide ramifications so that people today are more ready to consider the imminent return of Jesus!

John Kidson October 2020.

A Teaching Story

Joanne C. Jones is an American who studied nursing. The following story is true and is told by Jack Kornfield in the Art of Forgiveness.  

“During my second month of nursing school, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read the last one: "What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?" 

Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired, a woman in her fifties, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank.

Before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. "Absolutely," said the professor. "In your careers you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your care, even if all you do is smile and say hello." 

I've never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.”

—quoted in The Art of Forgiveness, Lovingkindness, and Peace by Jack Kornfield 

Isn’t it true that sometimes we need reminders about who we truly are and what our life’s work is really about? In the stress of studies, achieving good marks in tests, the hustle and bustle of student life, and the pressure of passing a degree in nursing, perhaps Joanne may have forgotten the true art of nursing: care for people. Her professor’s teaching moment was a worthy reminder of who Joanne truly was and what her life’s work was really about – meeting many people, knowing that all are significant, all deserve her care even of all she does is smile and says hello. She remembered who she was and what she was about.  

Perhaps we have comparable stories about who we are and what we are truly about when we have travelled off the beaten track. As a parish priest what I am meant to be about is the work of God and the people of God, the administration is secondary to that. The face of a person must always take precedence over the computer screen.  

Stephen Covey offers another example of remembering our core values. He was teaching his teenage son to take responsibility for the garden. Imagine his flare of irritation upon arriving home from a trip and finding that the grass had still not being cut – he just managed to check himself before diminishing his child with verbal abuse by reminding himself – “I am raising a child not a lawn”. 

The Beatitudes are reminders about who the People of God are and what their Life’s work is truly about 

As people of God we also forget who we truly are and what we are truly meant to be about. The reading from Matthew’s Gospel is part of a block of reading known as the Sermon on the Mount. Verses 1-12 are commonly referred to as the Beatitudes. These beatitudes are the reminders about who Israel was meant to be and what who true purpose in life was.  

Many sermons comment that the Beatitudes seem radical, revolutionary, world changing and that the earlier audience would have been blown away at the audacity of Jesus’ teaching. However, a careful and close reading of Scripture will reveal that the Beatitudes are none of these things, they are not unique at all, but a reminder of God’s purpose for Israel since the beginning of creation. All Jesus seems to be doing is reminding the People of God how God had always intended Israel to live. The people of God are being reminded about the abundant, extravagant, lavish grace filled life God has in mind for us if we are true to who we are and what our life’s work is about. Jesus gives us the Beatitudes as a reminder about who we are as people of God and what our life’s work is; namely love lived out in mercy and justice. Let us then for a moment step into the beatitudes and see what Jesus is reminding us about. 

The beatitudes

Jesus sees the crowds and moves onto mountain. This is a provocative stance: the mountain recalls the posture of Moses and the gift of the ten best ways, the commandments given at Mt. Sinai. With the presence of the crowds before him, the stance on the mountain also recalls Mt Zion and the radical inclusivity of God’s empire; remember that Mt Zion is where all the nations will stream into Zion and learn the ways of God by beating the swords into pruning hooks.  

Jesus then sits. Again, this is a provocative stance because kings sit, Jesus is king of God’s Empire, Jesus is the king of the new Creation, the life style taught by the Scriptures from Micah, to the Gospels and in Paul’s letters.  

Jesus then offers the beatitudes. These describe not personal qualities, but situations, often of oppression which are being reversed by God’s reign, God’s Empire. What we must remember is that what is important is not the condition that is blessed but, God’s action in that situation that is being blessed. For example, when Jesus says blessed are the meek which means the crushed, the oppressed, it is not oppression that is blessed, but the promise of liberation that is blessed.  

Thus, fundamental to these beatitudes is the establishment of God’s justice and mercy and the removal of societal relationships that create inadequate distributions of resources.  

As we are reminded of who we are and what are true work is the beatitudes serve as a way for us to realign our lives so that it tracks God’s original intention for us which is abundant blessing, extravagant and lavish enjoyment for all creation.  

When one uses a sander, there is an alignment knob that needs to be adjusted so that the sandpaper tracks accurately. Similarly, these beatitudes are an alignment knob so that we track accurately in terms of God’s purpose and will for our lives.  

Concluding comments 

With this in mind we do well to follow the example of a well-known Hindu and history maker, Gandhi. It has been said that Gandhi meditated on the Beatitudes every day in the final stages of his life. As we follow his example perhaps this could be our discipline too, to learn them off by heart, to let them saturate our minds, to let them descend into our hearts, and as we pray them repeatedly and meditate on them constantly they will take on a life of their own as they beat in our hearts and savour our breath as we go about our day to day work.

Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?

“No one,” wrote Raj Nadella, “would have expected the Pharisees and the Herodians to come together on the issue of taxation.”1 The Pharisaic movement strongly opposed the Roman empire whereas the Herodians benefitted from their active association with it.

This strange alliance sought to entrap Jesus by devious questioning, a characteristic of the so called “controversy stories” in Matthew. The Greek word Matthew used,2 connotes ensnaring someone in their own words; and we can note in passing that the question is framed as a closed question requiring a yes or no answer, something contemporary QCs are very good at. Any direct answer like “yes” or “no” to the question would either defy Caesar, or offend those who were resisting Rome. Either way, Jesus would appear to foot-fault himself.

The Pharisees were well versed in negotiating with the Roman Empire even as they opposed its rule; whilst the Herodians were often in bed with Rome in order to further their political and economic interests. So, to imply in their question that Jesus was either collaborating with or defying the empire was blatant hypocrisy.

Jesus knew their game from many similar encounters in the past. And he asked them to show him a coin of the realm. The image and inscription thereon identified who controlled the economy. Everyone, even the temple, traded in that economy because they had no other choice. Consequently, they were legally obliged to pay tax. And Jesus certainly did not intend to encourage those at the margins to defy the empire and jeopardize their lives.

You may recall that, prior to this, Matthew tells us that the collectors of the temple tax ask Peter if his teacher pays the temple tax. Peter replies that Jesus did indeed pay the temple tax.3 However, this particular tax, the fiscus Judaicus, was imposed on all Jews after the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, 40 or 50 years after Jesus’ lifetime. This tax was a punishment of all Jews for the Jewish Rebellion, and was used to rebuild and maintain the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus in Rome, thus asserting that Jupiter claimed power superior to the Jewish God; a somewhat studied insult. So, this particular vignette of Matthew’s was directed at his post 70 CE audience.

Peter, too, was liable to pay the tax, and at the conclusion of the story Jesus says to Peter, “… so that we do not give offense to them, go to the sea and cast a hook; catch the first fish that comes up ; and when you open its mouth, you will find a coin; take that and give it to them for you and me.” In turn, Jesus has claimed that God will pay their taxes – a sideways swipe at the rich and powerful who could easily afford it, and at the Roman God Jupiter, who seemed to need a cash boost from a Jewish God.

That story is echoed in today’s gospel. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor … ?” Significantly, Jesus’ reply highlights the other, theological, dimension of this question. “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s”.4

So, this little drama to do with the payment of taxes poses yet further questions to God’s followers. “What are the mechanisms—the coinage—we need to put in place in order to transform the current reality and bring about a different reality that would be more acceptable to God?”5

Perforce, we have to pay taxes, and in a true democracy, if there be such a thing, one would do so willingly for the good of the community. Warren Carter6 noted that an imperial tax can be paid without the payment being a vote of support for Rome or its ethos. And, the coinage of God’s realm is not the same as Caesar’s. God’s realm is one of love, not coercion; it is a realm of community and all that implies. Grace, sharing, care for others, negotiation, consensus, solidarity, willingness. These are the currencies of God’s realm.

As Desiree pointed out last week, this currency is given full expression in the Beatitudes, which value wholeness, transformation and healing for Godly communities. Raj Nadella suggests that these values are also the means to challenge oppression, including the oppression arising from unfair and biased taxation.

Jesus’ social programme was, in Richard Rohr’s words, “a quiet refusal to participate in almost all external power structures or domination systems”, 7 and he avoided the monetary system as much as possible by using a common purse.8 His three-year ministry offered free healing and health care for all. He treated women with a dignity and equality that was almost unknown in an entirely patriarchal culture. He welcomed the alien, the refugee and the enslaved as legitimate members of the human race.

Now; I am indebted to Robyn Hannah, firstly for a most illuminating conversation last week, about simplicity, and secondly for drawing my attention to Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations last week.

Rohr has been discussing the question “What do we do with evil?”,9 focussing on what Paul called powers, principalities and thrones, 10 what we call corporations, institutions, nation-states, and what Walter Wink called “the domination system”; AKA the meritocracy, people and organisations that have a stranglehold on power and wealth11 -summed up by Rohr as … corporate evils … [that] … have risen to sanctified, romanticized, and idealized necessities that are saluted, glorified, and celebrated in big pay checks, golden parachutes, parades, songs, rewards for loyalty, flags, marches, medals, and monuments.

When the systems of “the world” are able to operate as denied and disguised evil, says Rohr, they do immense damage for which they are not held accountable.

And herein lies a stark and scary contrast between corporate sin and individual sin. Rohr’s thesis is that we should pursue, and convict, evil in its organizational form – not in its adherents.

Jesus always forgave individual sin, whereas, in contrast, he is not once recorded as forgiving the sin of systems, institutions and empires. What he did was to make them show themselves and name themselves,12 lamenting over city states like Bethsaida, Chorazin and Jerusalem, which harboured such systems of control and oppression.13 Matthew records that it was Capernaum that would be “cast into hell”.14 These represented the powers and principalities of which Paul wrote.

So, I return to God’s currency.  Love, as Don Black and Charles Hart

wrote, can sometimes be a most unwelcome guest. Jesus, during his ministry, challenged much wrongdoing with impunity, but within a week of taking on the principalities and powers, he was killed. Empire and religion conspired, in a social contract, to murder him. He is finally a full victim of the systems he refused to worship.

We, my friends, are gripped by a similar and evil social contract with those principalities of which we are barely aware, and which we seem powerless to oppose. The evidence of their destructive nature is all around us. There is not one single facet of our lives that is untouched. And, as we sleep and dream of good things, the juggernaut of big business, corrupted government practices, off shore trading and the like, continues along its path toward global destruction, literally.

Richard Flanagan’s new novel, The Living Sea of Waking Dreams, has been described as a “wrenching response to a devastated world”.15 This “tale of ecological anguish … understands the textures of silence: what is unsaid, unsayable and unheard.” It bespeaks “a fearful evasion of love’s most intimate and painful obligations.”

Let us pray that we can cease that evasion in our own lives.

Footnotes:      1 Raj Nadella, Samuel A. Cartledge Associate Professor of New Testament; Director of MA(TS) Program Columbia Theological Seminary Columbia, Ga. See https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4624 2 Greek pagideusosin – παγιδεύσωσιν; 3 Matthew 17.24-27 ; 4 Matthew 22.21 ; 5 Op cit Raj Nadella 6 2.Warren Carter, Matthew and the Margins: A Socio-Political Reading, (Orbis Books: Maryknoll, NY 2000) 439.; 7 Jesus’ Social Programme, Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation, Thursday 15 October 2020 8 See John 12:6; 13:29; 9 Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations, 11-17 October 2020; 10 See Colossians 1:16; 11 Walter Wink Engaging Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a world of Domination (Augsberg Fortress: 1992); 12 As did Desmond Tutu in South Africa and Martin Luther King in the United States of America; 13 Matthew 11.21, Luke 13.34, 35; 14 Matthew 11:23; 15 Beejay Silcox, The Guardian, Fri 16 Oct 2020 03.30 AEDT

The Parable of the banquet includes a parable within a parable, namely the wedding garment. The parable in the parable is puzzling in that it confronts us again with an Old Testament God of wrath and punishment, law, and order. The excluding, punishing God King is in direct contrast to the other image of God also offered in the Gospel, a God of unparalleled graciousness and abundant, extravagant, reckless love.  Let us agree for one moment to put the wedding garment aside and concentrate on the Parable of the Banquet.  

Jesus’ primary audio-visual image for communicating grace is the feast, the open table fellowship. The Gospel reading is one such example of this.  

Grace is God’s love that God lavishes over us. How do we respond to that love? Do we accept it with confidence and gratitude that God could be that good? Or do we make excuses. It is the undesirables that are then invited to the feast: The good and bad alike. The early readers would have been aghast at this suggestion: Go out and call the good and the bad alike and call them in. Our consciousness cannot take that. The early church was shocked at the suggestion that the kingdom of God be open to the good and the bad alike. Jesus offers the symbol of the meal, the feast, the open table fellowship as an audio-visual teaching aid to offer people a new way of seeing reality. Our response is gratitude. Meister Eckhart says that if you have only prayed one prayer – thank you and meant it – you have prayed enough.  

Babette is a refugee who is a French, and she joins the community.  She offers to cook them a French dinner. People feel very threatened by this. The sect agrees to the meal but promises not to enjoy it! During the meal they start to forgive each other, loosen up and enjoy the feast. At the end of the meal a general gives a speech. The general had obtained everything he had striven for, he only knew of a fact, that he was not happy. It seemed to him that the world was not a moral concern but a mystical concern.

General Löwenhielm's Speech summarises beautifully the resented banquet presented by Jesus:

“Mercy and truth, my friends, have met together. Righteousness and bliss shall kiss one another. Man, my friends, is frail and foolish. We have all of us been told that grace is to be found in the universe. But  in our human foolishness and short-sightedness we imagine divine grace to be finite. ... Grace, my friends, demands nothing from us but that we shall await it with confidence and acknowledge it in gratitude. Grace, brothers, makes no conditions, and singles out none of us in particular; grace takes us all to its bosom and proclaims general amnesty. See! that which we have chosen is given us, and that which we have refused is, also and at the same time, granted us. Ay, that which we have rejected is poured upon us abundantly. For mercy and truth have met together and righteousness and bliss have kissed one another! 

Trusting that God could be that good for us; and living your life in gratitude for God’s goodness. This is what the bible leads us to.  

What about the person with the wrong wedding garment?

There are many interpretations as to the meaning of the wedding garment and its wearer who is excluded from the feast. The fluidity of meaning is perhaps appropriate for a parable. I suggest that one interpretation acknowledges the shadow side of being an inclusive, welcoming, grace filled community. The parable within a parable makes clear that it is precisely because an inclusive, open, grace filled, invitational community unlocks wide their heart and doors, that a destructive element can creep in. The parable of the wedding garment is a caveat to protect what is precious, the pearl of great price, a community emulating the extravagance of the Divine. Here is the warning: without justice, grace is shallow, without truth, mercy is empty, without righteousness, bliss is irrelevant. I quoted in full General Löwenhielm's speech that married apparent opposites: mercy and truth, righteousness and bliss. The point is this, to be truly inclusive, at some point we may have to exclude. To be truly open, welcoming, and hospitable requires that we vaccinate ourselves against the destructive effects of immunological failure from persons who are harmful to the community.  

The COVID pandemic provides me with a parable that proves my point. All our welcome in our church, except if you have a temperature or have been to a COVID hotspot, in which case you are excluded, and we might also bind you hand and foot, and throw you into the outer darkness. Excluding potential carriers of COVID does not negate our inclusivity but protects it. Healthy communities need healthy boundaries. Have you ever been part of a group or organisation where you have been frustrated that one or two people ruin the fun for everyone? The parable begs the question, when dealing with an uncompromising force, is peace possible? Friedman’s fable, the friendly forest gives us an example of the need for healthy boundaries in establishing an all-inclusive community.  

The story of “The Friendly Forest” describes a place where all of the animals live happily together. One day a tiger asks to join the friendly forest. The tiger disrupts the enjoyable environment, especially for the lamb who is frightened when the tiger growls at her. The tiger seems to stalk the lamb and even when he not physically present the tiger stalks the lamb in her dreams and consciousness. The friendly animals in the friendly forest beg the lamb not to leave. In attempting to solve the lamb’s dilemma, some friends suggest that maybe the lamb is too sensitive or maybe she should accept the tiger for who he is. Some of the animals insist that it is merely a misunderstanding that can be resolved if the lamb and tiger sit down and communicate. The lamb is worried about compromising since there is something wrong about an invasive creature agreeing to be less invasive if the invaded creature agrees to tolerate some invasiveness. Another member of the friendly

Forest overhears the mediation and blasts out: this is ridiculous, if you want a lamb and a tiger to live together in the same forest, you do not get them to communicate, you cage the bloody tiger!

I have 'gleaned' much from the many ideas penned with reference to 'The Sermon on the Mount'. I pondered, prayed, prepared and preached my path to the present. I admire Mahatma Ghandi's declaration that the Sermon contains the unadulterated message of Jesus.

I am also convinced that the whole gospel story is much larger. Jesus' message is that the Kingdom has come to humanity and been fulfilled in his words and actions. This sermon is for those who have received the word of the kingdom and know its benefit of salvation.

To understand pairs of 'oxymoronic' phrases we need to recognise Jesus' very deliberate action. Separating himself from the crowds he sits, taking the rabbinic position of teacher. His disciples gather 

around, he teaches them saying ... (Mt5.1 ff) The sermon is a real example of 'preaching to the converted'. For the most part, each beatitude seems to build on its predecessor assuming that the listeners are firstly described, then encouraged. So: congratulations: to you, poor in spirit ones, yours is the kingdom of heaven.

Then: congratulations, you mourners, you will be comforted. And: congratulations, to you who are meek, you shall inherit the earth.

The pattern, thus begun (vs 3-5) where the poor in spirit, mourn, are meek, and subsequently promised, the kingdom, comfort and the earth as an inheritance, continues through to Jesus' guarantee and call (vs 13ff) We are salt and light. We share the Good Life!

John Kidson October 2020.

A Grief Observed 1961 (Faber and Faber) journals CS Lewis harrowing journey through grief. The death of his wife left him disgusted with platitudes in sympathy cards he called “pitiable cant”, cant is a synonym for blather or drivel. When he tries to pray for his wife,

“bewilderment and amazement come over me. I have a ghastly sense of unreality, of speaking into a vacuum about a nonentity… Apparently the faith—I thought it faith—which enables me to pray for the dead has seemed strong only because I have never really cared, not desperately, whether they existed or not.”

Jessica Mesman is a widely published writer whose work has been noted in Best American Essays, writes: “The rubber has met the road, and he (CS Lewis) has found that all the theology in his world cannot fix a blown out tire.” (Source: https://www.americamagazine.org/arts-culture/2019/04/24). 

It is so human to feel viciously angry at God when touched by grief. Yet when we learn from loss, we may come to learn that the dead are our closest neighbours who are still with us, although in a different way that what we are used to. Wisdom comes from journeying deeper into grief, if we are not embittered by our loss. Whether we believe in God or not, God is always present to us,  helping us to listen and learn from our fear, our sadness, our dread, our loss and loneliness.

By Desiree Snyman

Students often ask questions in a context where they expect, even hope for, a particular answer. Such is the situation with the Pharisees and the Sadducees. In their role of learning and teaching Judaism, these opposing groups often vied, if not for Jesus' approval, then for the satisfaction of proving him wrong.

When Jesus silences the Sadducees (Mt 22.23 ff), for their apparent lack of Scriptural understanding, the Pharisees take opportunity to test Jesus with a question aimed at settling an 'in-house' dispute. Some teachers permitted a distinguishing between lesser and greater commands, while others argued that as all commandments came from God they were of equal value. Hence, they ask Jesus: Which is the greatest commandment in the law?

Jesus' two-fold answer points out:

* the legitimacy of holding to first principles in the law, and

* the important immediate consequence – the 'what' and the 'how'. Love of God and love of neighbour are inseparable. Jesus later extended the neighbour concept with his Parable of the Good Samaritan. Today, we may see a further corollary as we express our love of God and neighbour in caring for our damaged environment.                                                          By John Kidson.

Jesus the Jew, a book written by Geza Vermes, caused controversy when published in 1973. Today it is commonplace to reflect on Jesus’ Jewish background. We have Geza Vermes to thank for that. In 1973, however, Jesus the Jew was provocative title. Why? 

Jesus the Jew was a confrontational title because Christianity has internalised the oldest hatred, anti-Semitism. Moreover, we have over spiritualised our reading of Scripture. Over spiritualised means that we read the Gospels in moral tones, ignoring the justice, environmental, economic, and political impacts of the text. As I have studied and read, my research into Scripture has cleaned a mirror for my attitudes and I have been saddened at how the reflection reveals my prejudice and bias. Our over spiritualised and anti-Semitic bias in reading scripture are like cataracts clouding our sympathy for the context of the Jewish Jesus. Read through anti-Semitic and over spiritualised cataracts, often this parable has been interpreted as an indictment on the religious hypocrisy of the Jews who have had ‘heaven’ taken away from them and given to the Christian gentiles, while our own hypocrisy remains hidden. Many explanations of this parable regard it as an attack on the Jewish leaders of Jesus time. Furthermore, some interpretations of this parable describe how God has sent pastors to the vineyard his church only to have them abused by the tenants until eventually God will (re)send his son in a second coming. Such teachings cassock church leaders in a false piety when they themselves are at times the wolves in sheep’s clothing. The Royal Commission into institutionalised responses to child abuse has been a cleansing, a necessary movement of the Spirit to disallow any such interpretations.

As background to this parable, the authors of our lectionary have revealed their own bias in marrying Matthew 21.33-46 with Isaiah 5.1-7 – song of God’s vineyard:

Let me sing for my beloved my love-song concerning his vineyard:
My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill…
he expected it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes…

For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting; he expected justice, but saw bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!

Tellingly they have stopped short at verse 7, omitting verse 8, which is the interpretive key for us:

Ah, you who join house to house,
who add field to field,
until there is room for no one but you,
and you are left to live alone
in the midst of the land!

“Add house to house and join field to field” to where there is “no more room in the land.” What does this refer to? The audience in the first century existed under a multiple tax burden. In addition to levies paid to Roman officials there was also the necessary taxes paid to the temple. In Matthew 23.1-12 Jesus refers to this: “They (the priests and pharisees) tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them.” The multiple tax burdens which leached life out of the average Jew living under Roman and Temple rule is one of the reasons Jesus became angry. In Matthew 20.12-13 we read: “And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you make it a den of robbers.”

When one was no longer able to pay one’s taxes and debts, a loan was taken out. When the loan could not be paid, land was forfeited to the wealthy city-based class from whom you were awarded a loan. You hired yourself out as a labourer to the very land you used to own.

Imagine now that the land you owned and loved that supported you and your family for generations was totally destroyed and then replanted with a vineyard. For at least five years the land would bear no fruit which means you had to have enough savings to pay wages without an income. This highlights that only the extremely wealthy could afford the luxury of digging up a workable farm to replant with vines. Imagine being in near poverty working on this farm. As part of your work agreement you are allowed to plant vegetables in between the vines to feed your family, as long as you pay some of this harvest to your already wealthy property owner. Step into scene, you are hungry and tired, you have been working in the sun, your children are suffering and starving, the small amount of food you are able to grow to feed an undernourished family is taken from you as payment for using the land to grow it, land that once belonged to you. These labourers would have longed for a Messiah to come, to destroy all those who generated wealth at the expense of the peasants, and to overturn the tables of history so that the poor would be rich and the rich, poor. Perhaps you can have sympathy for the violent revolt the desperate tenants resort to, especially if their religious hopes are for a Messiah who would violently destroy the oppressors and support their uprising.

Yet Jesus warns that such an uprising will not be effective and lead to a spiral of violence and not have a happy ending for anyone. The ominous question “Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” possibly alludes to the siege of Jerusalem in 70CE, a decisive event where the Roman army destroyed the city and Temple of Jerusalem. Josephus the historian suggests that 1.1 million people were killed in that siege. Aware that such a brutal response to an uprising against Rome was possible, the audience in Matthew’s Gospel reply to Jesus question, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death.”

I suggest that in this parable Jesus is inviting listeners to question for themselves the spiral of violence and its lack of efficacy in overcoming evil. A more nuanced approach is needed, where we are as wise as serpents but as gentle as a dove. Since Jesus does not intend to be the sort of Messiah who will lead a violent uprising against corrupt leadership, many will reject his Messiahship. The unusual messiahship Jesus offers will be a cornerstone for the new community he inaugurates, a new community that adopts the beatitudes as its constitution. To opt for violence instead of the beatitudes means that one will always stumble against the character of the Christ, the cornerstone is, for some, a stumbling stone.

As we allow the parable to interrogate us, unless we are widows, we as wealthy readers examine the extent to which our lifestyle rests on the exploitation of others, like the wealthy landowner in the text. Is it possible to imagine a new future that subverts the imbalance of the rich being too rich at the expense of the poor who are made poorer?

I suggest a new future is possible. St Francis of Assisi is a living parable of how the spiral of violence described in Matthew’s Gospel can be undone. After Jesus, St Francis has had the greatest impact on human history. He is credited with the non-violent destruction of the feudal system of Europe, a feudal system which is summarised in Matthew’s parable in 21.33-46. In Matthew’s parable, the wealthy landowner sends his son to collect the “taxes”. St Francis was the son of such a rich noble, however instead of perpetuating his father’s wealth, Francis rejected the lifestyle completely. He lived a life of solidarity with the poor and sick. St Francis not only rewrites the parable, by refusing to be an agent of destruction on behalf of his wealthy patriarch, he also heals the spiral of violence destroying the marginalised and the earth.

As a hero of the faith St Francis empowers us with a creation spirituality that heals a spiral of violence. Compare and contrast is perhaps not the best way to highlight the example St Francis offers us, but this method summarises his impact below:

1.   While we may have been taught that we are born in original sin, in contrast creation spirituality celebrates that we are as an original blessing, blessed to be a blessing to others.

2.   While we may have been taught that the nature of humans is that they are sinners, in contrast creation spirituality celebrates that we the baptised are the anointed kings and queens of the new creations.

3.   While we may believe in a divided world, in contrast creation spirituality teaches the interconnectedness of all things; rich and poor, humans and animals, animate and inanimate are linked together as interdependent siblings. It is because the world is enjoyed as an undivided whole that St Francis sings a hymn to sister moon and brother sun.

4.   While we may see the world in dualistic terms and define some areas as secular and others sacred, in contrast St Francis teaches the divine permeates all things. Creation spirituality notes that all things pulsate with God’s breath, God’s energy.

Similarly, since the world vibrates with the energy of Christ, the universe itself is the body of Christ and the Risen Lord Jesus is worshipped as the Cosmic Christ present in all that is.

There are two great pleasures in life. One of them is eating delicious food the other the emotional, physical, and spiritual communion of two lovers. So, it is no wonder that it is the Marriage Feast that is used to symbolise the superlative, spiritual experience of communion with God. It is an auspicious, euphoric time. It is so sad when communion with God is projected into a future experience, Pie in the sky by and by.  This is especially upsetting for the poor and disadvantaged of the world. So often, for the suffering and poor ‘religion’ a drug, an “opiate of the people” (Karl Marx), stopping them from questioning why is there no banquet now and causing them to accept their lot, their predestined place in the world. Thus, this most wonderful experience has become a tool of oppression. This is NOT the meaning of the parable. The wedding feast is NOW. We are being invited NOW. Unfortunately, sometimes we get distracted by what we think are the important things i.e. work and making money or even securing a nice house, which means we miss the FEAST. The FEAST is found in the sharing or God’s abundance not in things or activities but in real communion with God in creation and other humans. God is not in some faraway place called Heaven waiting for us to arrive for a heavenly banquet. God is here. God is now. The banquet is laid out before us. Bog in!

Over billions of years the Gardener of the Universe created a beautiful blue planet and filled it with life and caused humans to tenant it. However, the tenants thought they knew better and rather than work with the Gardener decided to dominate this world and fought amongst each other for the position of most power. They cut down the trees, killed the animals, poisoned the spoils and hurt and killed each other as well as enslaving the animals and other humans in order for their tribe to be the biggest and strongest.

The Gardener of the Universe was so upset that the humans were destroying rather than promoting life on this beautiful world that the Gardener decided to bring into being a child who would try to tell them about the wonderful life- enhancing fruit that could be had from their world. The child came to them and told them they could have abundant life if they would but attune themselves to love; the Life of the Universe.

Some heard the child and believed, but most could not give up their power, control and domination so took the child and killed the child horribly.

As the millennia rolled by the number of humans on the planet grew. Some remembered the child and the Gardener and sort to follow the love promoting way of life.

On October 4th each year one person in particular is remembered, a monk named Francis. For him the earth and all its creatures belonged to the Gardener and were his brothers and sisters to be loved and cherished. Francis saw that the Gardener’s beautiful planet needed saving along with the humans who were destroying it.

Today unfortunately, the domination continues and the power of humans to destroy grows ever stronger, and yet the Spirit of the Child and Gardener still call us to love and peace. The story is not finished. It is not too late to reject power and domination and live in love and glorious harmony with each other and this beautiful planet we call Earth.

However, the consequences of human behaviour begin to grow dire and the foretastes of the great burning are already being felt.

Can you believe that it is now seventeen Sundays since Pentecost? Seventeen Sundays since we began using green liturgical colours. Green is the colour for living and growing. That means, for hundreds of years, church people have spent most of each year identifying themselves as “Greenies”. 

So, it’s not a new thing for church people to have a focus on Creation as many denominations choose to do in the month of September. This is our fourth Sunday thinking about Creation and this week the focus is on water. Our bodies need us to drink water; plants need water to grow and we need water for washing. In science at high school, I was taken by water being called the “universal solvent”. Water dissolves most things. Even most of our Alstonville red mud.

Our lectionary today has chosen for us, in addition to the Gospel, a most appropriate reading from Exodus Chapter 17. In Exodus, God’s people were learning a lesson. After years of slavery where they needed the Egyptian leaders to look after them, they are now in the desert learning that they needed God to look after them.

For Jewish people, it’s important to regularly retell their history stories. (I was impressed by one New York rabbi who encouraged positivity by writing that it was necessary to think more of the Exodus from Egypt than the horror of the 1940s Holocaust.)   In Exodus today, there’s one of the many murmuring stories. The people were thirsting and complained against Moses. Can you imagine Church people complaining about their leader? Well, when Moses did as God asked him, water flowed from a rock. God provided life-giving water. We are not able to thank God enough for the gift of water that we seem to take for granted as we turn on our taps today. We can show God our appreciation by our careful conservation and management of this gift of water.

So, it’s helpful in this month of Creation, and this Sunday of water, to have Exodus give us something to think about. But, you know, we only scratch the surface of what’s in the Bible. We only scratch the surface in our regular Sunday readings. There’s so much to think about and so many different ways of looking at the messages God gives us.

Last week we heard Matthew telling about Jesus’ parable of the workers in the vineyard. Some workers spent the whole day in sun in the vineyard, others worked half a day and others just a short time late in the day, but they all got the same pay.  

I told the Friday congregation that this was a good example of how generous God is. Our generous God giving people things they are not entitled to and probably don’t expect.

And then I came to Church on Sunday and Desiree explained this same lesson, seeing it from a different angle. I went wow! Isn’t that interesting! Isn’t that good! Desiree made a lot of sense to me when she said, “My reading of the parable is that Jesus evokes debate about justice and economics”.  That’s what being God’s people is all about. Being involved in the welfare system. How are the people around us coping and being treated? That’s why we have Anglicare (where Desiree got the figures she gave us) and St Vinnies and the Salvos). God’s people are to debate and to be outspoken about the way Kings and Governments lead their people.

Today’s Gospel reading has skipped quite a bit of what Matthew has to report since the story of the workers’ pay. We’ve skipped over the very important events of the triumphant entry to Jerusalem and the cleansing of the Temple. (Jesus overturning the money changers’ table and setting the animals free).

Now, today, we have Jesus’ brilliant response to questioning of his authority. Jesus answers a question with a question; “was John’s baptism from heaven or was it of human origin?” If it was from heaven, then surely you should have believed him? If the answer is no there will be trouble with the people who follow John.

Then Jesus began another parable by asking the question “what do you think”. Jesus is being similar to a teacher preparing students for HSC indicating this is important. Make sure you know this!

Jesus tells the chief priests and the elders of the people a parable of two sons, one of whom says to his dad “I am not going to work in the vineyard”, but eventually does. And the other son who is full of promises to go, but who disappears and never gets to do any work.

Jesus wants people to consider the issue. To think about something pretty straight forward. This is a multiple-choice question with only two answers to choose from. Which son did the father’s will? Of course, they rightly choose the first son as the one who 'did the will of his Father'.

This is excellent teaching technique. Jesus has led his audience, so critical of what he has said and done, to actually own their answer.  Jesus has led his audience to make their own decision about the way to do the Father's will.

It is not a question of saying the right words and going through the right rituals. We are actually called to do what the Father wants. It’s the way we live that counts; not the things we say.

Jesus is attacking the so-called 'religious people' who go through the motions of being God-directed people, mouthing the right words and performing the right rituals, but not putting their lives where their words are.

Then, what Jesus says after this is probably the most difficult thing for people to hear and to accept. A statement which doesn’t seem fair to the people who always come to church. Jesus says to these good religious people, “I tell you; tax collectors and prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.” (Tax collectors and prostitutes were considered as sinners absolutely beyond acceptability. They were pagans.)

So, is this the most annoying thing that Jesus ever said? “Bad people are going into the Kingdom of God ahead of you!” Jesus is being very challenging, but he is actually asking people to reflect and decide; well which of these two sons is me?  Which do I personally think is the way of righteousness?

In the Western world, over centuries, Christian morals and ethics had gradually become the accepted values of the nations. However, in our rapidly changing and increasingly secularized world, Christian values no longer play this important role in society at large. It’s interesting that even atheists have argued that society will suffer without religious morals and values. Our society is in danger of losing its soul and Christianity has the opportunity to prevent that when we demonstrate lives that show evidence of God’s kingdom. We pray “your will be done on earth as it is in heaven”. When we show that we are striving to do God’s will; if we Church-goers, who listen to the Gospel, are doing what we are saying, things can change. When we don’t; when the so-called sinners of our day don’t see any example of the right way to go about things, where can they put their hope and trust? Where can they learn?

So, there’s big messages in today’s readings but, as always, there is good news. The good news is that change can really take place. No matter what that first son said to his father, he can do the right thing. What we have done in the past does not have to guide what happens in the future.

Intro

Isabel Allende is at the top of my list of favourite authors. In “Sum of our Days” she summarises her son’s threefold philosophy that he applies to all relationships:

·         it isn’t personal,

·         everyone is responsible for his or her own emotions and

·         life isn’t fair so don’t expect it to be.

In contrast Isabel writes that the angst that ruins her poise is because

·         she takes everything personally,

·         feels responsible for the feelings of others, even complete strangers, and

·         cannot and will not reconcile herself with the fact life isn’t fair.

It’s not fair. Is this your reaction to the parable? It’s not fair? The conventional interpretation of the parable is that of allegory, that God the vineyard owner is generous. This parable stresses the lavishness of God's grace and our inability to earn favour with God. We, like the workers, are reprimanded for grumbling “it’s not fair” and urged to imitate the generosity of God. I wholeheartedly disagree with this interpretation.

The text and the text’s context

Here are some observations about the text:
The immediate context for the parable is the rich young ruler asking what he needs to do to inherit eternal life.

Jesus says in Matthew 19:

If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth. Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you; it is hard for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again, I tell you; it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”

The parable of the vineyard workers occurs after Jesus’ formal accusation on wealth. Wine is a luxury product. The owner is likely one of the rich elites, not a subsistence farmer. The idea that the owner represents God is hardly likely when Jesus chooses solidarity with the poor and warns of the dangers of wealth.

Usually the owner would send a supervisor to hire workers, yet here the owner hires workers himself; why, we are not told. It appears that he either doesn’t know what he is doing or is stingy, wanting to get away with the least number of workers, because he returns to town three times to hire workers for what appears to be a bumper crop.

I imagine that for an Australian reader of the parable, the scene is unfamiliar. In Australia it is not often that you can just employ someone off the street. Workers need the correct visas, insurance must be covered, registration with the ATO is necessary, super is compulsory etc. In contrast, “piece workers”, were something that Marius and I grew up with. Usually at traffic intersections, the unemployed would line the roads, vulnerable and desperate for work. It is this that colours my imagination as I hear the parable. When the owner approaches workers at the end of the day asking, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ my blood boils with anger and sympathy. With few exceptions, people want to work, the workers may have appreciated being hired earlier with the first mob. The workers explain, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ Here victims of social injustice are being blamed for the social injustice. The owner implies that they are lazy.

My reading of the parable is that Jesus evokes debate about justice and economics. This is not a moral story with a spiritual meaning about late believers going to heaven. Spiritualising the parables is a device that we the wealthy use to avoid the cost of discipleship, just like the rich young ruler asking about “buying” eternal life with legal obedience to laws. This is an earthly story with political and economic significance. The parable is conscience raising, inviting the audience to examine the many ways in which the systems at play oppress them. For us as wealthy readers, the parable scrutinises the ways in which we benefit from the exploitation of others. Jesus’ mandate is summarised in the Our Father: may it be on earth as it is in heaven. Heaven is God’s transformed future available now. In heaven, work is shared, and wealth is distributed so there is enough for all. Therefore, in the present God’s people challenge injustice and work towards restructuring economic policy.

If this parable is about raising our awareness of how labour and economic practices privilege some at the expense of others, it has much to say to our Australian context, especially in relation to tax, Medicare, and welfare.

The text and our context

Kasey Chambers (2018[i]) quotes Minister Michaelia Cash who expects “that those who can work should work and our welfare system should be there as a genuine safety net, not as something that people can choose to fund their lifestyle.”[1] This is typical of the coalition’s narrative. When asked if he could survive on the Newstart allowance; Matthias Cormann dodged the question with the comment “it’s a transitional payment[ii]”. These comments reveal the unstated prejudice on which the coalition operates: ”

·         Those on Newstart are dole bludgers (a strange and uniquely Australian term)
·         "The best welfare is a job”
·         Those receiving welfare are a drain the rest of us.

It is simply wrong to assume that the pittance the unemployed and pensioned are expected to survive on is expensive for the budget. The days of Robin Hood are dead and gone. Nowhere in our economy do we take from the rich and give to the poor. Unconscionably, the opposite is true. We take from the poor to give to the rich.

The Cost of Privilege (2018) was researched and written by Emma Dawson and Warwick Smith employed by Per Capita. Commissioned by Kasey Chambers CEO of Anglicare, the report proved that the richest 20% of Australians cost taxpayers over AU $68 billion per annum. That is around $37 a week from every worker in the country. In contrast, assistance provided to people with disabilities cost $31.721 billion ($17 a week per worker). In 2018, Newstart (unemployment benefits) cost us $10.994 billion ($6 a week per worker).

Continuing the fantasy of a “trickle down” economy is like insisting that the tooth fairy is real. Yet in response to the recession our government has brought forward tax cuts. The Australia Institute states that early tax cuts would be a windfall to high-income earners but an 'ineffective stimulus' for our economy[iii]. The report from the Australia Institute provides modelling of how 91 per cent of the benefit from tax cuts would go to the richest 20 per cent of Australians, with the bottom 50 per cent of earners receiving just 3 per cent of the benefit. The government was urged to increase jobseeker.[iv]

Concluding comments

Today’s parable of the vineyard workers is the lens through which we ask ourselves the questions: how do we read Scripture? How does scripture read us? Nicholas, Allende’s son is right; life isn’t fair. We can allow the parable to lure us into a debate about justice, as opposed to fairness, and work as partners with God in mending a hurt and hurting world.

[i] Kasey Chambers “Australia takes from the poor to give to the Rich” in The Sydney Morning Herald. https://www.smh.com.au/national/australia-takes-from-the-poor-to-give-to-the-rich-20180404-p4z7sn.html. Retrieved 19 September 2020.

[ii] Finance Minister Mathias Cormann told the ABC’s Sabra Lane that the payment was “transitional” and was only for a “very short period”. From https://theconversation.com/are-most-people-on-the-newstart-unemployment-benefit-for-a-short-or-long-time-120826. Retrieved 19 September 2020.

[iii] https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2020/sep/07/early-tax-cuts-would-be-windfall-to-high-income-earners-but-ineffective-stimulus-report-says. Retrieved 19 September 2020.

[iv] https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2020/sep/07/early-tax-cuts-would-be-windfall-to-high-income-earners-but-ineffective-stimulus-report-says. Retrieved 19 September 2020

[v] https://mccrindle.com.au/insights/blog/australias-income-and-wealth-distribution/

Season of Creation

Watching the media at the moment it seems leaders can’t do anything right. And the leaders themselves are vying for top position, power and influence. In our Exodus reading for this week you could say Moses is having a Dan Andrews moment. People questioning his leadership.

Whether it’s Koala’s, water sources, energy sources, freedom of movement, our pay check or in the case of Jesus, spiritual and moral authority, it seems leadership has to deal with a shrill outcry if people feel fearful or if they feel the status quo is being challenged and therefore their sense of security or authority.

In short we don’t like being uncomfortable in any way at all and some feel this more than others. Jesus makes the point it’s those who have the least to lose who trust the visionary leader the most. Those who have the most to lose are the first to try and find a way to undermine the visionary leader. Following a ‘vision’ is uncomfortable, even scary for those of us with the most to lose.

Moses had water issues. So do we! According to the CSIRO our Rainfall has been dropping 10mm near the coast to 50mm further inland every 10 years and is projected to continue to do so. Drying trends and water scarcity issues are affecting large areas of Australia (and the world). Water has been identified as a catalyst in areas experiencing national and civil conflict, according to Australian Defence Analysts. The underlying cause is Greenhouse Emissions and the resulting Global Warming.

There are Jesus figures and Moses figures, trying to lead us to do something about Climate Change, and the underlying causes. However, fear and denial seem to rule the day.

Who will we support and follow?

Does looking up at the stars at night make you wonder about God?

There are approximately 100 billion stars in our Galaxy. The Hubble telescope revealed that in the small section we can observe - there are around 200 billion galaxies. As for distances they are almost incomprehensible (especially to someone who thinks it’s a long way to Perth).

Down here on Earth watching little fairy wrens raise their chicks fills one with delight and awe at such complexity and beauty. We are just beginning to understand the physical, chemical and biological patterns and processes involved in our world.  What we are discovering leaves us with a feeling of wonder, it makes us feel there must be a creative, spiritual force, a mind, God somehow intimately connected to it all.

I wonder, is there sentient life on other planets contemplating the greatness of God?

God is incomprehensibly great!

In his book Sapiens, Yuval Harari makes the case that our human laws and social rules are just that. We’ve made laws and rules to enable us to function as a society. We’ve used God to justify them or claimed God gave them to us, (but that doesn’t mean s/he did). The Ten Commandments or the Divine Right of Kings are just two examples. We don’t follow the Ten literally anymore. A wife is no longer considered ‘property’ for example. As for the Divine Right of Kings, English speakers ended that idea with the beheading of Charles I, and are not too keen on “Presidents for Life”.  However, the Chinese think the latter is okay. Every society has different structures and rights and responsibilities, and they change and evolve. These are human institutions. We kid ourselves thinking God follows our rules or notions of fairness or is US written large - unless we believe that in the beginning humans created God.

Life in God’s Universe is like the parable of the labourers. Our ideas of what is fair and what’s not don’t apply. Sometimes “Good people” have terrible lives and “Bad people” have terrific lives and visa versa. We get different abilities or lack of them, and life offers us different opportunities. Our planet could be wiped out by an asteroid tomorrow.

Our Universe does follow God’s rules, it follows these patterns rigidly it seems, in as far as we understand them, and based on those rules - our actions have real outcomes. Our universe’s rules govern how nature and the universe works which we haven’t always understood but are slowly beginning to. Knowledge of these rules means we can begin to control the outcome of what happens to our little planet and beyond. Human ingenuity and the possibilities for the future of life are both exciting and frightening.

What do we want that outcome to be? The possibilities of both Utopian and Dystopian outcomes are in our grasp, now. God is great!

The Tragedy of the Commons

by Desiree Snyman on the 13th of September 2020 at Alstonville Anglicans

Read Matthew 18.21-35

Once upon a time there were two fields. One field was privately owned. The owner-farmer was wise. He knew that after grazing cattle for a while on one part of the field, the cattle had to be moved to another part of the field to allow the land to recover. He never had more cattle than the land could cope with. The land prospered.

The second field was a common resource – the commons. The commons was shared by a number of cattle herders who were entitled to graze the land with an allotted number of cattle. These cattle herders were cunning, but not wise. They soon realised they could maximise profits if they increased their herd. While the increased herd benefitted individual herders with more earnings, the land suffered from overgrazing to the detriment of all: the herders, the cattle, and the land.

The story I have told is a metaphor by William Lloyd’s 1833 pamphlet and later Garit Hardin’s 1964 published article “The Tragedy of the commons.” The point of the metaphor observes that the privately owned property prospers because the owner has a vested interest in its longevity. The tragedy of the commons is that what is held in common is destroyed to the detriment of all because of individually focused decisions.

How do you solve the tragedy of the commons? Imagine you are one of the cattle herders on the commons and you have observed the deterioration of the commons due to overgrazing. How would you convince your fellow herders to forego some profit short term to sustain the whole enterprise long term? The tragedy of the commons, as Aristotle summarises simply in Politics is that “what is common to the greatest number gets the least amount of care.”

In September, the worldwide church celebrates the Season of Creation. The focus of our reflection, inspired by Gardin’s article, is the Tragedy of the Commons. The tragedy of the commons is a lens through which we experience the climate emergency. The commons is the ocean, the atmosphere, water, soil…the whole environment in fact. The tragedy is that actions and decisions which may benefit a few with higher profits, is to the detriment of our survival.

How do we respond to the tragedy of the commons? To go back to the metaphor, how do we encourage the cattle herders not to overgraze? The answers to the metaphor are the same answers we give to the climate emergency. How do we encourage people to give up personal comfort, and personal benefit to sustain the whole? More importantly what do we do when they don’t cooperate? Fundamentally the issue posed by the tragedy of the commons is a question about community and what to do when it goes wrong, and this is where Scripture steps in.

Matthew 18 is about community and what to do when community breaks down. For example, how to respond to conflict, how to value the most vulnerable in community, how to communicate and the role of forgiveness in repairing community. The question today posed in verses 21-35 is when things go wrong, do you forgive and if so, how many times. Jesus answers that we forgive continually. Forgiveness is easy to understand, often hard to practice.

Jesus then muddies the issue of forgiveness with a confusing parable. Well, confusing to me at any rate. The books, commentaries, and sermons I have read about this parable make me feel like I’m the only sober person in a room full of inebriated friends, or the only inebriated one in a room full of sober Methodists. If this parable is meant to illustrate the value and function of forgiveness and that we are meant to forgive because we are forgiven, it fails.

The first slave owes 10 000 talents. Either the amount is hyperbolic, or its highlighting a narrative context. Galilee and Pereia owed Herod Antipas 200 talents per year in tribute. Overall, Herod earned 900 talents per annum. This amount of 10 000 talents is either 50 years’ worth of tribute from Galilee and Pereia or 10 years of Herod’s annual income. In other words, this first slave is a high-level bureaucrat responsible for vast sums of money.

The second slave owes the equivalent of half a Roman legionnaire’s salary or an annual wage of a labourer. In Australian terms my best guess would be the denarii is about 65 000 dollars. The debt owed by the second slave to the first slave while large, is nevertheless payable.

Bearing in mind that Jesus has just said we are to forgive 70 times 7, the king forgives a debt of 10 000 talents in one breath but withdraws the forgiveness in the next breath. The king passes sentence and the slave is tortured for eternity as opposed to the earlier punishment of merely being sold as a slave. The king has forgiven only once, according to Jesus, he still owes 489 clemencies. I hope you can sympathise with my confusion. So, what is going on here?

If the first bureaucrat could be sold into slavery at the whim of a king, or worse, tortured, the parable implies something about the system they are in. No one is safe, no matter how high up you are, how much power you have, and no matter how much money you have. Money, power, and position do not protect you from the system of debt and profit.

Even the king is undermined. Even if the king exchanges a policy of brutal tax exploitation for the cancelation of debt, the world doesn’t change because his subordinates, his bureaucrats are still caught in the system of debt and profit. The king’s hands are tied, and he is forced to bow down to the power of the system.

What this parable says to me is that there is a difference between change and transformation: you cannot change one element in a violent domination system and expect society to transform; that is like rearranging furniture on a sinking Titanic. In order for Christ’s vision of an alternative society to take shape, and the ethics of mutuality, solidarity and generosity to be practical, the whole domination system must change.

Peter’s question (how many times you forgive) indicates how much he buys into the system Jesus intends to overthrow. Who counts mercy? Like grace, mercy, generosity, and friendship are abundant; they are too priceless to count. Jesus’ alternative is cooperation, generosity, leaders as servants, and offering help without counting the cost. The alternative Jesus offers requires radical, integral, and holistic transformation of attitudes, spirituality, beliefs, economics, faith, and business models. Jesus is proposing a revolution so great that it doesn’t only change the people, it changes the entire system itself. 

Here in lies the relevance of the parable of the unmerciful king for our climate emergency (or impending catastrophe depending on how you interpret the science). The parable calls for a total transformation and predicts the failure of one or two changes in making a difference to our world. It is not enough to change one aspect of our technology for another technology and expect creation to heal. For example, it is not enough to change diesel cars for electric or coal for solar panels and expect that to be a solution to our climate emergency/catastrophe. The climate emergency demands a whole system approach, an holistic and integral transformation of faith, spirituality, finance, business, education, health … everything.

Jesus’ background in Judaism holds the concept of shalom as central to a healed world. Shalom is a vision of interconnectedness, that we are one with each other, with the creator, and with the environment. Other cultures have similar understanding. For the Maori, shalom is whakapapa; for Africans, shalom is ubuntu; for Tibetan Buddhists, tendrel. Shalom, ubuntu, tendril, whakapapa have a similar energy – that we are all connected to God, to each other and to every atom in creation through an innate web of relationships.  

I wonder if you have noticed how much of our spiritual endeavours are frozen into moral imperatives. You should do this; you should do that; you must not do this or that. I suppose it is, in part at any rate, the fruits of dualism, something that seems impossible to avoid as we wend our way along the path of life.

This troubles me, because moral imperatives can quickly become distorted in the interests of political expediency. They transmogrify into laws or regulations that enable one to say “Oh, that is illegal. That is against the law” (or vice versa) – the first response of discomfited politicians. Thus, morality dies a painful death in the hands of leadership, and spiritual endeavour suffocates.

Scholarly discussion of binding and loosing centres around regulations or laws concerning who has authority to do what. The historian, Josephus, reported that “The power of binding and loosing was always claimed by the Pharisees. Under Queen Alexandra [76 BCE to 67 BCE], the Pharisees became the administrators of all public affairs so as to be empowered to banish and readmit whom they pleased, as well as to loose and to bind."1

Rabbis, aka wise men with a spiritual bent, had similar power to decide disputes relating to the Law. That which was permitted in law they declared to be loosed,2 whilst a forbidden practice was called bound.3 To confuse the issue, however, there were different schools of thought. For example, there was a saying: “The School of Shammai binds; the School of Hillel looses.” 4

This manner of discussion is commonplace, but it leads to the frozen-ness to which I have already referred. This bothers me because something has been lost in translation. And I think that that something is our humanity, our divinity, the core of who and what we are.

This month we are to focus on CREATION with a capital C. So, let us start at the beginning.

As I told our Friday congregation last week, the Dutch theologian, Edward Schillebeeckx, wrote that our creation myths are “not a cosmological explanation for the origin and nature of the world and human beings,” but rather “a theological elucidation of God and God’s relationship with creatures.”5

The word creature comes from the same Latin root as the word creation. We are creatures, created beings, something we have in common with “all that is, seen and unseen,” as the creed has it.

So, I, a human being, am an integral part of, “all that is, seen and unseen” – closer than breathing. You too. This mystery of what we call existence, however, is one of total reciprocity. “On that day,” said Jesus,” you will know that I am in the Father and you in me, and I in you”.6 That is the closeness of creation. As our Buddhist friends might tell us, 

When a drop of water falls in the ocean, When a speck of dust falls on the ground,
At that moment the drop of water is no longer a drop of water, It becomes the ocean,
And the speck of dust is no longer a speck of dust, It becomes the entire earth.7

In Christian terms the foregoing suggests to me that you and I and the rest of creation are imbued with a sacramental quality. That certainly makes sense in terms of my own understanding of Aboriginal Spirituality. However, like all sacrament, something becomes a sacrament for me when that is my own particular intention. Our world is our sacrament, if that is our intention.

His All-Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew said,

It is our humble conviction that divine and human meet in the slightest detail contained in the seamless garment of God’s creation, in the last speck of dust. 8

So, as we exploit the environment, we permit an avoidable suffering of all creation. The gospel writer Matthew would say we do not bind that suffering, but rather we loose it. To quote Bartholomew again, we refuse to accept the world as a “sacrament of communion”. Schillebeeckx called it a neglect of “the physical and social aspects of salvation”, noting that

Jesus makes visible by his action that the whole of human reality – physical, social, and spiritual – are also part of the sphere of the offer of wholeness of life … 9

In all of this, we have the conundrum of how to access true wisdom; the wisdom to think, pray and act in a way that augments our precious world.

Barbara Brown Taylor wrote in her book, Holy Envy, that it can be “helpful to be authentically human.” 10 Schillebeeckx pointed to a God, who by nature, “is present to human beings in a deep and hidden intimacy”. 11 The contemplative world will suggest that we can access that wisdom within the practice of silent meditation or contemplation. But that is not necessarily everyone’s path.

In one of my all-time favourite novels by Charles Williams, Prester John, the mysterious, mythical, Priest/King of the Graal makes several appearances. His last one involves an encounter with Barbara, whose 4-year-old son, Adrian, has been rescued from a hideous end by John and a cohort of angels. Adrian wants to go to church, and Barbara blushingly confides to Prester John that “we don’t go as regularly as we should.”

“It is a means,” he answered, “one of the means. But perhaps the best for most, and for some almost the only one. I do not say that it matters greatly, but the means cannot both be and not be. If you do not use it, it is a pity to bother about it; if you do, it is a pity not to use it.”

I leave the last word to Jen Hadfield, a poet who lives on the Shetland Isle of Burra. Her words, as Mark Oakley remarked, “interrogate and bless the natural world … pour light on, and through, the people, animals and landscapes that make her feel “connected and protected.” 12 Her poem, Paternoster, is the Lord’s Prayer as uttered by a draft horse, and one can almost smell the mix of grass and mash on its breath as it repeats the words “it is on earth as it is inn heaven”

Paternoster. Paternoster.
Hollowed be dy mane.

Dy kingdom come.

Dy draftwork be done.
till plough the day

And give out daily bray

Though heart stiffen in the harness.
Then sleep hang harness with bearbells
And trot on bravely into sleep

Where the black and the bay
He sorrel and the grey

And foals of bearded wheat
Are waiting.

It is on earth as it is in heaven.
Drought, wildfire,

Wild asparagus, yellow flowers
On flowering cactus.

Give our daily wheat, wet
Whiskers in the sonorous bucket.
Knead my heart, hardened daily.
Heal the hoofprint in my heart.

Give us our oats at bedtime
And in the night half sleeping.
Paternoster. Paternoster.

Hallowed be dy hot mash. 13

Doug Bannerman  2020