Practise what you preach

“Practise what you preach” and “walk the talk” are clichéd and ubiquitous platitudes thrown around in religious circles. It can be ironic and quite fun to watch a “practise what you preach” moment unfolding in front of you. From 2001-2003 I was a Methodist pastor and was required to attend district meetings with our bishop. Usually about 100 ministers were present. At one such meeting the bishop, irritated by interruptions caused by ringing phones, stood up to reprimand us for not turning off our mobile devices. At that precise moment, his phone rang! Hilarious. Similarly, in today’s reading Jesus is tasked with “walking the talk”.

The Gospel of Mark 7.24-37 narrates Jesus’ encounter with a Syrophoenician woman. The encounter follows hot on the heels of Jesus’ admonishment to the Pharisees about their pedanticism with law and tradition. You may remember the take home message in the preceding verses (in Mark 7.1-23); that it is not what goes into the body that defiles, but what comes out that is corrupt. In the case of the Pharisees, overemphasising their scriptures and traditions led to pettiness, jealousy, acquisitiveness, wickedness, deceit, envy, slander, pride, foolhardiness. Yet when a Syrophoenician woman asks Jesus for help, his answer reflects his narrow focus on tradition and the consequent prejudice: “He said to her, ‘Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’”. Jesus believes that his mission is to the Jews and what comes out of this narrow focus is a cultural put-down where a gendered outsider is compared to a dog.

Some find it alarming that Jesus displays racism common to his era. If we take seriously the full humanity of Jesus, we can allow for his need to learn and evolve. Furthermore, Jesus is running on empty. He has attempted to honour his need for prayer, quiet and restoration, but his retreat was interrupted by the hungry crowds (Mark 6). Some of Jesus’ brusqueness with the Pharisees (Mark 7.1-23) arises from his fatigue. Again, looking for quiet and peace Jesus “set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice” (Mark7.24).

The heroine in the story is the Syrophoenician woman who stood her ground and expected liberation from Jesus. She makes a theological argument against limiting the messianic banquet to Israel alone. She thus teaches Jesus the meaning of his own message of Good News. In arguing for freedom and wholeness for her daughter, this pagan outsider, this gentile, this Syrophoenician woman, is the transformer, the Christ presence. She is for Jesus a teacher, mentor, and spiritual director. She helps Jesus critique his sense of entitlement and internalised bias. The narrative arc of Mark’s Gospel pivots at this point; from this moment on, Jesus’ mission intentionally focusses on sharing the power and Good News of God’s kingdom with gentiles. One might even say without her we as gentiles might not be here. As Heidi Husted put it: (in the Christian Century, August 16, 2000): “The day the gospel went to the dogs was the day it came to us.  We are some of the “dogs” who have received the good news of the gospel!  When Jesus opened himself up to mission to the whole world, he opened his church to the world.  Now we are to open ourselves to the whole world in mission.”

Jesus’ encounter with the Syrophoenician woman supports the kingdom’s vision. The vision is radical inclusion. The story addresses some of the obstacles to Jesus’ vision of welcome.

·       The purity codes of the pharisees that exclude people from a meal.

·       The honour of the Jews that limits the inclusion of outsiders

·       The social reconciliation of “us” and “them”

If the Syrophoenician woman can be Jesus’ teacher and mentor in evolving towards radical inclusion and integration, perhaps we too could allow her to be our teacher. She invites us to examine ourselves and our social structures closely and reflect honestly on who or what is excluded?  Where do we draw lines that exclude? What are our blind spots? Who is missing from our churches? What inner attitudes and perspectives keep others out of our committees and boards? For example, why are there so few female principals? Why are LGBTQI people not included in ordained ministry? Why do our churches not reflect the population demographics? What is it about the corporate and political culture that prevents black people, woman and young people from participating more equitably?

What happens when these questions are asked and acted upon? People and societies are transformed to wholeness. Here are some of my Good News moments where “Syrophoenicians” (as a symbol for the excluded) have stood their ground and expected liberation and love from society. I would be interested to hear of your examples.

 1.     Disable bodied people have long advocated for the use of accessible design by arguing for the built environment to be as accessible for as many as possible. Those in wheelchairs certainly find the ramps on our roads more useful, but the interesting thing is that so many others have benefitted too (e.g., prams and bikes use the ramps too).

2.     The concept of universal design is the result of “Syrophoenicians” (the excluded) demanding liberation and love. Universal Design addresses issues of having a different approach for different users, which not only improves and simplifies the way a facility is used but also eliminates user segregation to maximise participation by users of all abilities.

Today is beginning of our Season of Creation. The Season of Creation is the annual Christian celebration of prayer and action for our common home. Together, the ecumenical family around the world unites to pray, protect, and advocate for God’s creation. During the 2021 Season of Creation, from 1 September through 4 October, hundreds of thousands of Christians will be uniting around the theme, “A home for all? Renewing the Oikos of God.”

It is pertinent that at the beginning of the Season of Creation a Syrophoenician woman is our chief theologian. Women are disproportionately affected by environmental issues. https://www.un.org/womenwatch/feature/climate_change/downloads/Women_and_Climate_Change_Factsheet.pdf. Further, there is a significant connection between the degradation of the earth and the oppression of women. The Good News that this story offers is that those most affected by the inequalities of exclusion are the best equipped to respond, those close to the problem are close to the solutions too. My sincere hope is that we pray with the Syrophoenician woman who changed the journey of Jesus. My hope is that she inspires those who are excluded to have confidence to speak-up for we all need their message. My hope is that like Jesus we can make space and listen to the words of the 21st century Syrophoenicians God sends our way. The words of today’s collect adequately summarise these hopes:

O God, whose word is life,

and whose delight is to answer our cry:

give us faith like that of the woman who refused to remain an outsider,

so that we too may have the wit to argue

and demand that our children be made whole,

through Jesus Christ. Amen.

Metaphors

I wonder if Australia is the only place in the world where an absolute lemon is cactus and a dark horse a fair cow, and everyone has an uncle called Bob? I wonder what your thoughts are on the following expressions.

   Stunned mullet

   A few roos loose in the top paddock

   A few stubbies short of a six-pack. ... 

   Have a sticky or have a captain cook…

   Or nice Budgie smugglers Tony Abbott…

Much Australian parlance is metaphor. What is a metaphor? Simply put metaphor is symbolic language. In metaphor, one experience or reality is understood or explained by comparing it to another. Metaphor is the use of symbol to make meaning. An important thing to understand is that a metaphor taken literally is an absurdity. For example, to interpret the metaphor “it’s raining cats and dogs” literally is an absurdity, as is “to throw the baby out with the bath water” and “beating a dead horse”. Metaphor is the only path into today’s lectionary. Yet, if we enter the deeper meaning of these metaphors an experience is offered. One could say “it’s raining hard”. However, “raining cats and dogs” offers an experience, really heavy rain.

Metaphors and the Gospel of John 6:56-69

The point of today’s reading in John 6:56–69 is precisely metaphor. John states in that ‘the Spirit gives life; the flesh is unprofitable’. What John means is that we must understand the use of metaphor in experiencing Jesus; to take a metaphor literally is an absurdity, worse, its death. A literal understanding misses the point about Jesus. Informed by the Spirit it is only through metaphor we grasp the meaning of Jesus. The invitation today is to elevate our minds from the literal to the symbolic, from the finite to the infinite.

I am not trying to be abstract. Metaphor is how religious and spiritual language works. If one wants to experience inner aliveness or vitality or meaning or purpose, we have no option but to embrace metaphor.

It is precisely at the point of metaphor that division and conflict occur in the John’s Gospel. There is conflict between Jesus and the pharisees who overemphasise literalness.  Later in John 6.40-51 the conflict around metaphor is between Jesus and other Jews. Now the conflict is within the group of Jesus’ own followers – Jesus’ use of metaphor causes offense.

The offense is related to fear, fear that Jesus is asking them to let go of their traditions. Instead, Jesus is asking that their heritage be transformed into metaphor, into symbol. I suggest we do the same.

The Eucharist as a metaphor for life

In the meditation on the bread of life in John 6 and in our Eucharist, we are asked to enter metaphor. We are asked to transform our life into the life of God and transform our actions into actions of God.  Jesus said: “Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before?”. The elevation of the bread during the Eucharist and the elevation of Jesus in the ascension is an invitation to elevate our consciousness from the literal to the symbolic, from the physical to the divine.  The finite, the physical, is an expression, a symbol, of the Infinite. 

The bread and wine are symbols of finite reality, symbols of the whole creation, symbols of our lives. The elevation of the bread and wine and the elevation of Christ transforms our finite lives into the body and blood of God, into the manifestation of God’s presence.

Our finite lives are transformed to the body and blood of Christ, a manifestation of God. Our finite actions are transformed into lifegiving actions of Christ.

What does this mean practically?

Seeing our lives as a metaphor for the Eucharist is to transform our life into the life God of life, our actions into actions of God. Thus, whatever we give to others will be the body and blood of Christ. Whatever we receive from others is, similarly, the body and blood of Christ. Every encounter we have with others, within creation is an Eucharistic celebration. Every encounter is then a sacred encounter.

e.g. When I share in an authentic conversation with another, the story I share with them is the body and blood of Christ and they receive it. In offering a listening presence, the listener gives the speaker the body and blood of Christ.

Concluding comments

When the theologian and scientist Jesuit priest Teilhard was unable to celebrate the Eucharist, he made everything his Eucharist in the way indicated above:

Since once again, Lord I have neither bread, nor wine, nor altar, I will raise myself beyond these symbols, up to the pure majesty of the real itself; I, your priest, will make the whole earth my altar and on it will offer you all the labours and sufferings of the world.

Over there, on the horizon, the sun has just touched with light the outermost fringe of the eastern sky. Once again, beneath this moving sheet of fire, the living surface of the earth wakes and trembles, and once again begins its fearful travail. I will place on my paten, O God, the harvest to be won by this renewal of labour. Into my chalice I shall pour all the sap which is to be pressed out this day from the earth’s fruits.

My paten and my chalice are the depths of a soul laid widely open to all the forces which in a moment will rise up from every corner of the earth and converge upon the Spirit. Grant me the remembrance and the mystic presence of all those whom the light is now awakening to the new day.

Protest actions

We are all too familiar with images of protest actions around the globe: 

·  Protests Actions against authoritarian rule in North Africa and the Middle East on 2011 in what is now called the Arab spring ushered in more democratic processes.

·  The Black Lives Matter movement at the height of COVID in 2021 and 2022.

·  The Me-Too movement

·  Our beautiful children acting for Climate Change, frustrated that their adult leaders are doing so little.

South Africa, the country that birthed me, is only who she is today because of Protest Action. From the Free Mandela protest action campaigns overseas, to the well organised, non-violent protest actions in the early days of Apartheid, South Africa today has a narrative of human rights. Thanks to Protest Action, South Africa boasts one of the world’s most sophisticated constitutions. Harvard law scholar Cass Sunstein called the constitution in the new democratic South Africa “the most admirable Constitution in the history of the world.” 

Australia, my adoptive country, has also been changed through protest actions.

Today we have marriage equality in Australia. While we remember the protest actions in 2017 that campaigned for the yes vote for marriage equality, the protest action began in 1978. People who identify as LGBTQIA+ launched what we now know as the Mardi Gras in Sydney in 1978, a protest movement that continues to encourage a positive self-esteem for people who are LGBTQIA+.

Australia has a long road to go before we can all relationships with Indigenous Australians anything close to just. However, the Torres Strait Islander man Eddie Mabo achieved an important role in protest action that led to more land rights. The High Court case that eventually overturned the lie of terra nullius was a significant change brought about through the Mabo led protest action.

Today I would like to thank you for your involvement in gentle, persistent, faithful protest action: your participation in the Eucharist.

The Eucharist as protest action 

The protest action that we have witnessed on the news around the globe has taken different forms. Some protest actions have been non-violent. Some protest actions have resulted in death and disability. Other protest actions have witnessed high levels of anger and aggression, such as the frustratingly short-sighted demonstration against lockdown measures in Sydney last week.

 In contrast the Eucharist as protest action is persistently gentle and consistent. There is no destructive anger, although there is the breaking of the bread. There is no blood shed although there is the constant call for the downfall of “The Powers” (whomsoever they may be) and the call for the uprising of the peasants, or the marginalised.

In analysing the John 6 text, one may be tempted to offer a spiritualised interpretation that reflects on the meaning of the Eucharist in terms of what the bread and wine signify during a Sunday Holy Communion Service. Many commentaries offer this over spiritualised interpretation. Such spiritual discussions on John 6 with the inevitable argument over transubstantiation are obsolete and irrelevant for a 21st century reader.

The political undercurrents of John 6 are related to the link made between Jesus the bread of life and manna, the bread of survival in Exodus 16. The manna story culminates in the annual Passover Festival. Passover commemorates how God freed and continues to free people from oppression. Thus, by linking Jesus the bread of life with the Manna story, John is deliberately alluding to the uprising of the oppressed against authoritarian despotic rule.

If the Eucharist is a form of protest action, we ask three questions:  

1. Protest action for whom? In other words, on whose behalf is the protest action for? 

2. Protest action against what? In other words, what do we object to? 

3. Protest action for what?  In other words, what is our vision and what do we hope and work for?  

Protest action for whom? In other words, on whose behalf is the protest action for? 

The Eucharist as protest action is for people who are hungry for life in all its fullness, the commitment that Jesus offers to each of us: “I have come that you may have life in all its fullness” (John 10.10b). For some this hunger may be a physical hunger. For others the hunger may be a deep desire for meaning and purpose.  

The Eucharist as protest action is for the vulnerable, those who come to Jesus and cry: “Sir, give us this bread always.” These words remind us of another dialogue in John’s Gospel, when the Samaritan woman said to Jesus: “Sir give me this water always.” The Samaritan woman is a vulnerable person, someone who is excluded and unwelcome.  

The Eucharist bread is broken for the life of the world. All are invited to share at the table. All are welcomed. These moments of Eucharistic action protest a world where only some are welcomed and only some invited. The Eucharist action is for the vulnerable of the world. But it is also an objection to the brokenness of the world where some have too much, and others have too little.  

Protest action against what? In other words, what do we object to? 

The Eucharist as Protest action objects against a world of injustice where some have too much, and others have too little. In John’s Gospel the people say to Jesus: ‘31Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, “He gave them bread from heaven to eat.”’ The reference to the story of Manna is relevant.  

The People of God have escaped from Egypt. Egypt is a place of oppression, a place where life was sucked out of God’s people as they were enslaved to a system of greed symbolised by the pyramids. In Egypt they suffered because some had too much and others too little. God frees them. They are in the desert. While in the desert God must teach them a new system of economics; a system that is not based on greed and a few having too much, and others enslaved to work. God rains down Manna. The people collect it. This teaches them that everything comes from God, all is a gift, it all comes from heaven. When they collect the manna, they will learn that work is a dignified activity where people work with God to mend creation. When they collect the manna, some will gather more, and others will gather less. But those who gather more will not have too much and those that gather less will not have too little. What God teaches them is a new system of economics that will give life to all God’s people. Life for all God’s people is God’s vision for the world, it is for this vision of sharing that the Eucharist action protests for. We live in an insane world where 26 billionaires had the same net worth as the poorest half of the world’s population, some 3.8 billion people[1].

Protest action for what?  In other words, what is our vision and what do we hope and work for?  

The Eucharist as Protest action envisions a world where all have enough, and all are treated with the dignity that is their birth rite as people created in the image of God. The dignity of being human and living a purposeful, whole, and healed life is the vision of the Eucharist. In addition to the manna, another important feature of the Exodus story alluded to in John 6 is the marriage between humanity and divinity. In Exodus, as God’s liberated people travelled through the wilderness, the Ark of the Covenant symbolising the Divine was among them.  The Eucharist re-members that the heart of our reality is the marriage between the holiness of our humanity with the holiness of God’s divinity. Every human is to be honoured because all are a unity of divinity and humanity.

The beautiful thing about the Eucharist is that God achieves this vision of human dignity for us and through us and with us. As Jesus explains to his audience, our task is to believe it: 28Then they said to him, ‘What must we do to perform the works of God?’ 29Jesus answered them, ‘This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.’ 

Concluding comments  

Today I would like to thank you.  Thank you for coming faithfully to the Eucharist Feast. Thank you for being part of Protest Action that stands against a world, where so few have too much and so many have too little.  Thank you for being a partner with God in the Eucharist. Thank you for celebrating the marriage of the holiness of your humanity with the holiness of God’s divinity. Thank you for your work with God in mending creation.  

Pictures from Naked Pastor and used with permission, license paid.

[1] This is according to OXFAM. Read more here: https://indepth.oxfam.org.uk/public-good-private-wealth/.

I am often learning great new insights from the sermons of Doug and Desiree. To learn you need to have your attention attracted so, I’ll share a little attention grabber from Mark Twain. “If your son wishes to bring a cat home carrying it by the tail, let him; that experience will teach him more than a thousand words of warning.” There’s also a need to be willing to be interested in learning in the first place.

An important thing I learned in my career as a flying instructor was that the best education, growth and understanding doesn’t come from books or video streaming. The best development happens when there’s strong personal contact. We are all different and we go about our lives in our different ways. Some people are shy, and others are more confident.

I think we all understand that it is necessary to have good relationships with other people in our family or whatever organisations or clubs we belong to. “Not so good” relationships cause stress. Perhaps, the most important question for us as Christians is “do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?” When it all comes down to the basics, (or dare I say, the fundamentals), a personal relationship with Jesus Christ is the heart of Christianity.

Service to others in need, the study of the scriptures, a knowledge of the faith, boldly witnessing to the coming of the kingdom of God; all those things are noble and good. But Christianity so often gets dragged down by issues about “church” (services, music, parish decisions, bishops and priests). We can miss the point that it’s all about Jesus; Christianity IS about getting personal with Jesus.

When we are going out to some significant function, most of us are a little uneasy until we get to know the host. Isn’t it amazing that we hope to spend eternity at the heavenly banquet, in the presence of Jesus, and yet there doesn’t seem to be an urgent sense of really needing to know Jesus well (to have a personal relationship with him) before we arrive at the banquet?

Well, how do we know Jesus? How are we to understand him? “I am the bread of life,” Jesus says in the Gospel of John. That doesn’t make much sense if you try to take it literally. Bread is bread (crust & dough), and a man is a man. They just can never be the same thing.

That’s the way the people in the story were thinking when Jesus said this to them. When he said that he had come down from heaven, they murmured to one another in their literal-minded confusion; “Hey, isn’t this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know so well? How can he now say, I have come down from heaven?” Not for the first time, the people find what Jesus says hard to swallow (pun intended).

Jesus spoke about being the Bread of Life intending to stir the imagination, to touch the hearts of people, to teach them more than just intellectual knowledge. But, because Jesus’ words fell upon the stony ears of people with no imagination or no great willingness to learn, his lesson caused only confusion, anger, and disrespect.

What do we find these days? People hear of Jesus and feel compelled to question what they hear. They say, “How did he do all those miraculous things? Surely, he was just a man; no one could walk on water, no one could feed five thousand people with a few scraps of food. The authors of the Bible must be exaggerating; the story of Jesus reveals more myth than man. These church goers are all self-deluded!” Knockers jump to conclusions about the Bible often without reading it. But what does it actually say and how are we to understand it? Listening to Desiree and Doug, I learn a great deal and find there’s a lot more for me to discover.

Military instructors found it very hard to keep their students interested and motivated in the early 1960s. However, when young fellows like me started to find ourselves being posted into danger in Vietnam, suddenly, we became very serious about our study. So maybe it’s a good thing that our Bible knowledge is challenged; it may well give some people more motivation to study their Bible.

The more you read the Bible, the more you find how it all marvelously fits together. There is a great example today. In the First Testament reading from 1 Kings 19, Elijah is scrambling to get away from the vicious Jezebel and when he gives up and wants to die, he is told by God’s angel to “Get up and eat.” Another reminder that God provides the nourishment necessary for life.

Then in our Gospel reading Jesus (who has provided food for the multitude) is telling those who follow him to eat more. Jesus invites them to experience God’s life-giving food. He had startled them by saying Moses didn’t give their ancestors real bread from heaven in the wilderness when they were hungry. Now he really shakes them up by saying that HE was the bread the Father had sent down from heaven, the only permanent satisfaction for hunger. It had been the same for the woman at the well in Samaria. Jesus told her that the water he would give her would become a spring gushing up to Eternal Life.

So, what are we to think of Jesus? When Jesus says he is the heavenly bread of life, he gives us plenty of clues. Bread is something we eat. Bread nourishes us. Bread sustains us and, at some points in our lives, it even makes us grow. Maybe that's who Jesus is; God come to us to nourish us, to sustain us, and to make us grow.

Something to keep in mind. Maybe, just like bread, Jesus must be consumed to do us any good!

“I am the bread of life,” Jesus said. If this is true, what does it mean? I believe it means that your soul will never be satisfied with the things that just fill your belly. No food, no loved one, no job, no wealth, no success, no fulfilment, will ever properly satisfy us.

Today’s gospel is a reminder to us that the Christian faith is more than a set of beliefs, a list of intellectual propositions or a rule of life.

Our Christianity is a matter of being encountered by a person, Jesus. Our Christianity is a matter of God getting personal with us, engaging us, taking over our lives, possessing us. To those in the crowd who are hungry and want to fill their stomachs; to those who want to have a pleasant discussion about spiritual matters, Jesus controversially says, “I am the bread of life. Feed on me.”

That’s the symbolism behind our celebration of Holy Communion!  Today, I hope that, as you receive the bread and the wine, which is for us the very body and blood of Christ, that for you, faith will become personal, the word will become flesh, that Jesus will mystically penetrate every fibre of your being, and that your personal relationship with Christ will be nurtured, fed and strengthened.

We are invited to the Lord’s table.  A little tasting platter to excite us and enthuse us as we anticipate the heavenly banquet to come.

Exodus 16.2-4, 9-15

John 6.24-35

In our readings of late, full of signs and wonders, we seem to have been involved in a lot of eating – from the dramatic banquet in Herod’s palace, an occasion of sordid behaviour and death dealing, to picnics in the countryside attended by huge crowds, life giving occasions that never tire the imagination.

Last week we reached the mid-point of John’s seven “signs”, [1] and, today, we pick up the story when “the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there”. So, they hop into boats[2] and sail to Capernaum “looking for Jesus”. When they “find” Jesus, they don’t seem to comprehend who he is: “Rabbi,” they ask, “when did you come here?”

The scene is set for another “I” saying to appear, yet another of John’s dazzling insights. Jesus replies, somewhat caustically in my view,

Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. (John 6.26)

As Desiree remarked last week, Raymond Brown[3] wrought an illuminating comparison of the dialogue in today’s text and the conversation between Jesus and the Woman at the Well.

Our text offers bread:

“Do not work for the food that perishes,” (John 6:27) followed by, “Sir, give us this bread always” (John 6:34);

The Woman at the Well runs a close parallel with water:

“Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again” (John 4:13) followed by, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water” (John 4:15).

This kind of thematic repetition occurs throughout John’s Gospel. Thus, he frequently uses the phrase, “Very truly, I tell you”. Now, “very truly” is the translation of the Greek amēn, a particularly striking emphasis marker, used in our scriptures to introduce statements of pivotal significance. Modern parlance might say “for sure” or “absolutely” or “definitely”; and that element of certainty is crucial to our understanding of John’s use of amēn. On Jesus’ lips it speaks to an assurance that his message is, as it were, guaranteed by God; for Jesus is both the messenger and the actuality conveyed by the message.

For John then, there is no confusion: Jesus is the bread of life, is the water of life, and at the same time is something greater than life as we know it. That is to say, our own lives are not complete in themselves. “My life,” wrote Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “is outside myself, beyond my disposal. My life is another, a stranger; Jesus Christ.” [4] In John, Jesus is life itself (John 1:4) and has come so “that they may have life” (John 10:10).

The purpose of John’s Gospel is clearly enunciated – “so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name”, which leads us to consider yet another important word, “believe”. The Greek is pistis, also the name of the Greek goddess of trust, honesty and good faith. She was one of the good spirits to escape Pandora's box and promptly fled back to heaven, abandoning humankind. [5] So “believe” is a weighty word, and it is unfortunate that in the Western world, the word “belief” has escaped the rigour of its origins.

Now let us move to the OT reading. You may remember the line from last week’s Gospel:

Jesus said to Philip, ‘Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?’ 6He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. (John 6.5b,6a)

There is a similar dynamic in the OT, in which God is constantly “testing” the people of God. God deals with people in general with understanding and compassion, but when it comes to the covenant people of God there is a repeated theme of critique and testing throughout.

We have a perfect example of that in the Exodus reading, when “The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness”. (Exodus 16.2) God’s response was to say to Moses, “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them …”

In essence, God then says three things to Moses.

First, God has heard their complaints. Second, in response to their complaining, God will provide for the people, meat (quails) in the evening and bread (manna) in the morning. Third, God tells Moses that it is when the people access God’s provision of food, then they will know who the Lord is, their God.

Our Gospel text says the same thing, except that Jesus attunes his listeners to God’s faithfulness today, in this very moment. The crowd demand, “Sir, give us this bread always.” But what they demand is actually that which they already have – in the actual presence of Jesus: “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” (John 6.35)

Scholar and preacher Walter Brueggemann, notes a multitude of meanings for bread. [6] Bread has to do with the entire system of creation, from the management of water and soil, to the breeding of good seed, to the economies of the world. Every culture and economic class consumes bread, and if it is not shared, “human life is in jeopardy.” Furthermore, the bread of the Eucharist, that which is blessed and broken, is a potent sign (sacrament) that this “most elemental stuff of the earth is infused with Holy Mystery.”[7]

Bread also connotes cash, the symbol by which we enter the economic world of credit, debt, interest rates budgets, tax incentives, market management and significantly, the high cost of neighbourliness.[8] So “there at the table” of our Eucharist lie issues to do with life sciences, social sciences, theology and economics.

(If you are not persuaded by the reference to economics, you may remember that just after the feeding of the four thousand in Mark, the disciples had forgotten to bring any bread, and they had only one loaf with them in the boat. Whereupon Jesus cautions them with the words, “Watch out — beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod.” That is to say the religious and secular power structures of the Mediterranean world.

We meet because our common work is rooted in the several faith traditions that hark back to manna bread. We become aware, I hope, that all bread is wonder bread, and all bread is laden with sacramental significance.

It is our creator who gives bread to the eater and seed to the sower, the same whom we confess inhabits the bread in ways that we cannot articulate. Consequently, none of the widespread views of our faith communities can escape an accountability given by “the very bread itself,” for as Brueggemann noted, “bread is the guarantee of life to the neediest, the least, the last, the most precarious, the ones without leverage or claim or resource.”[9]

All these issues are on the table when we hear the primal verbs of faith, “to take, to bless, to break, to give again.”[10]

Amen, Amen.

Doug Bannerman © 2021

[1] Water Turned to Wine (John 2.1-11)

Healing of the (Nobleman’s) Son Near Death (John 4.46-54)

Healing of the Lame Man at the Pool (John 5.1-17)

Feeding of the Five Thousand (John 6.1-15)

Walking on the Water (John 6:16-21)

Healing of the Man Born Blind (John 9.1-41)

Raising of Lazarus from the Dead (John 11.1-47)

[2] What? All 5000 of them? How many boats were there?

[3] Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel According to John: Introduction, Translation, and Notes in The Anchor Bible (Garden City: Doubleday & Company Inc., 1966), 267

[4] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Ethics in Ilse Tödt, Heinz Eduard Tödt, Ernst Feil, and Clifford Green, trans. and ed., Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works: Volume 6 (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2005), 250.

[5] See Polleichtner, Wolfgang (Würzburg) and Büchli, Jörg (Zürich), “Pistis”, in: Brill’s New Pauly, Antiquity volumes edited by: Hubert Cancik and , Helmuth Schneider, English Edition by: Christine F. Salazar, Classical Tradition volumes edited by: Manfred Landfester, English Edition by: Francis G. Gentry. Consulted online on 30 July 2021 <http://dx.doi.org/10.1163/1574-9347_bnp_e926200>. See also https://www.theoi.com/Daimon/Pistis.html

[6] Walter Brueggemann Mandate to Difference: An Invitation to the Contemporary Church (Louisville London: Westminster 2007)John Knox Press

[7] op cit Brueggemann

[8] op cit Brueggemann

[9] op cit Brueggemann

[10] op cit Brueggemann

Introduction

"The common impression is that it is the unintelligent who believe in miracles, but the fact is that it is the great minds who believe most fervently in unforeseen possibilities."

Our focus today is the miracle of Jesus feeding the crowds. The story represents for me the truest miracle. The experience of my ministry is the experience of the miracle of the feeding of crowd – on repeat. I know that the miracle is real, I know that it is possible. More about this later.

Last week Doug Bannerman preached a meditation on possibility. It is with this in mind that I offer the following quote from Harry Fosdick. Harry Fosdick was a Baptist pastor serving in the 1920’s and 30’s. He was one of the early preachers to challenge fundamentalism. Fundamentalism means a literalist interpretation of the Bible. For example, in May 1922, Harry preached a sermon entitled: “"Shall the Fundamentalists Win?" The provocative sermon signalled the public conflict between historic Christianity and modern liberalism. Liberalism means that modern science, ethics, and reason are applied to scripture above doctrine. Harry Fosdick adopted modernist ways of understanding Scripture. Noting his anti-fundamentalist stance, the following quote is interesting. Harry Emerson Fosdick wrote, "The common impression is that it is the unintelligent who believe in miracles, but the fact is that it is the great minds who believe most fervently in unforeseen possibilities."

"Unforeseen possibilities." Could this be a lens through which John 6 could be understood?

About John 6:1-21

All four gospels relate the story of the feeding of the crowd in the wilderness. While only Luke offers the story of the lost son and the lost sheep (Luke 15), only John offers the miracle of turning water into wine (John 2) and the raising of Lazarus (John 11). Only in Mark is the teaching offered that “the sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath” (Mark 2:27). The story of the feeding of the multitude is told 6 times and is in all gospels. Cleary the story has significance for the first followers of Jesus and the early communities of disciples.

From a literary point of view the feeding of the multitude is a variation of Old Testament themes. For me Scripture can be compared to another passion of mine – playing Piobaireachd on the bagpipes. In piobaireachd, a player begins the 10-minute tune with the urlar or ground. This is the opening movement. The 4 or 5 parts or movements that follow are variations of the urlar or ground movement, such as the taorluath and crunluath. Similarly, the urlar or ground movement in Scripture is (in my view) the hospitality of Sarah and Abraham in Genesis 18. Here Abraham and Sarah offer three guests, or if the Eastern Orthodox interpretation is to be believed, the Triune God, a feast in the wilderness. This desert hospitality is a product of the harsh landscape in which the story is contextualised. For Abraham and Sarah to refuse refreshment and sustenance for the wandering strangers is to let them die.

The hospitality is the transformation. We transform and are transformed. In hospitality we are transformed from stranger to guest. We are transformed from guest to friend.

Variations of this hospitality in the wilderness theme are scattered throughout the Scriptures. A key variation of the “hospitality in the desert theme” is the Manna Story in Exodus.  In Exodus, Miriam and Moses lead runaway slaves to freedom through a desert and feast on Manna. In other variations of hospitality in the wilderness Elijah is fed manna in the wilderness by angels and again later by ravens. Elijah in turn offers manna to a widow and her son when there is famine in the land. Similarly, Elisha feeds others manna as described in 2 Kings, our other reading for today.

In John 6.1-21 clear reference is made to the Passover, a feast and festival that remembers the Exodus from Egypt through the wilderness to the promised land. The reference to Passover makes the point that Jesus is the new Moses offering a New Exodus from slavery to freedom. John 6.1-21 offers some of the political edge of Mark’s version of the story. In Mark 6.30-44 and Mark 8.1-14, the feast Jesus offers when the crowds are fed bread and fish is contrasted by the banquets Herod offers. In Jesus feast several baskets of bread and fish are left over. In Herod’s banquet nothing is left over except death and destruction. In John 6 Jesus withdraws before they can make him king by force. In Mark and Matthew, the possibility of the crowd being turned into an army under Jesus is strongly intimated.

The mechanics of the miracle of hospitality

As the miracle of feeding happened in Genesis 18 with Abraham and Sarah, in Exodus 16 with Miriam and Moses, in 1 and 2 Kings in the lives of Elijah and Elisha and in the work of Jesus in Matthew, Mark, Luke and John; so too can it happen in our lives. None of the Gospels explain how the miracle happened. All they know was that they started off with very little, but somehow the little became more than enough, it was an abundance with plenty to spare.

Some believe that Jesus empowered by the Spirit of God miraculously undid science and expanded the bread and fish until there was more than enough to share. Others believe that the story Ion John 6.1-21 is a miracle of shared generosity. The interpretation is that the crowds witnessed a young boy sharing his lunch and were inspired to do the same until there was an abundance.

Nobody quite knows how the miracle happened, they just know that it did. On the face of it the situation must have felt hopeless and the offering silly. There is a huge crowd, in a wilderness setting, no markets nearby, and they are hungry. The price tag for a decent feed is overwhelmingly huge. A young boy offers two barley loaves and five fish. It must have seemed a silly offering, one that could hardly make a dent in one boy’s hunger, let alone a multitude (I consider myself an authority on this. I have two young boys who each eat a portion for a normal family of four – at every meal. 2 loaves and five fish is a snack, not even a starter for a young lad).

I have experienced so many similar miracles like the one recorded in John 6.1-21 – I honestly don’t know how they happened, but I know they did. The problems were overwhelming and seemingly insurmountable. The little that I could offer seemed silly, insignificant, and insufficient. Yet I left every time with an abundance. Unforeseen possibilities? Absolutely. I offer only two examples of the many hundreds I could share. 

When I was in Johannesburg, I was an HIV/AIDS activist and I partnered with a group of amazing women living in Orange Farm. Orange Farm is an informal settlement south of Johannesburg. Most live in shacks, there are few roads, no electricity and running water is by means of one shared communal tap. On one of my visits to Orange Farm I became aware of child headed households. Parents had died because of AIDS and older siblings were left to care for the family. 

Hunger and poverty are standard problems in South Africa. There is no Centrelink. There is no social welfare whatsoever. Many of these children were not even documented with birth certificates or identity documents. As far as I knew, I was the only person belonging to any institution that knew about these children. Without knowing how I was going to make it happen, I made a commitment to provide food monthly for the child headed households in extension 1, the area of Orange Farm in which my new friends lived. I offered my two barley loaves and five fish, begged for help from my darling church, from that month onwards the kids each had a grocery hamper to see them through the month. The early months were a nightmare as my idealistic intentions were not matched with admin and management processes. Yet, and I don’t know how it happened, people, businesses, schools, and organisations came on board. The local grocery store packed the boxes and provided a delivery truck and driver to take me to Orange Farm. My 2 loaves and five fish were multiplied to feed a multitude.

Another story. The women in Orange Farm I was working with were worried that the teenagers who headed these child-headed households had dropped out of school to look after young siblings. One of the women used her last paycheck, a mere $50 dollars, to purchase recycled iron and wood to build a shack that would serve as a kindy, so that the older children could leave their younger siblings in safety while they continued their schooling.

Eventually the shack was added onto. I was very moved by this and spoke of the story to others.

Again, I don’t exactly know how it happened, but in the picture below you can see the school that was built to support the education of the children aged 0-6.

  The point being made is this:

·         although we may be in a wilderness and there is nothing around,

·         although the problems we face seem insurmountable

·         and our available resources insufficient and insignificant,

we are asked nevertheless to offer what we have, even if it is as meagre as small fish and two pieces of bread.

·         We offer what hospitality we can in love,

·         we allow it to be blessed acknowledging that it came as bread from heaven anyway,

·         we happily break it for only broken things can be shared, and we distribute our offering confidently, knowing that that our generosity and hospitality is transformed, even if we don’t know how.

What is your wilderness and what is your hungry and desperate multitude? And what bread or fish can you offer? Perhaps climate catastrophe keeps you awake at night, hungry as a multitude in a desert. Offer what you can with love, give it to God to be blessed for it is bread from heaven, and keep doing the little you can, knowing that an abundance consists of many little offerings.

Perhaps your wilderness hunger is mental illness, and the darkness seems insurmountable, and your energy insufficient. Well, what is the little you can offer? Perhaps its only getting out of the bed and having a shower. Offer the little you can do with love and offer it for blessing for it is bread from heaven, trust that the abundance will follow. Nobody knows when or how, but the abundance will follow.

Barbara Brown Taylor, Bread of Angels says:

What makes something bread from heaven? Is it the thing itself or the one who sends it? How you answer those questions has a lot to do with how you sense God’s presence in your life. . . . If you are willing to look at everything that comes to you as coming to you from God, then there will be no end to the manna in your life. Nothing will be too ordinary or too transitory to remind you of God. The miracle is that God is always sending us something to eat. . . . God gives the true bread from heaven, the bread that gives life to the world.

My cello teacher has a way asking me what seems, a first sight , to be a simple question. “What are you thinking when you …?” The question could refer to my bow hold, or how I draw it across the strings, or what my left hand is doing, or what are my fingers doing when they encounter the strings. Provocative! And informing. What I am thinking, what my mood happens to be, or what my state of mind is at any given moment, how I am sitting – all feed into the quality of the sound my darling cello produces. That sound accurately portrays something about my state of being. I mean Being with a capital B.

The possibilities provoked by this mode of questioning are endless. The question, “What do you think about when …”, is a valuable entry into profound reflection.

What do you think about when you enter the church, when you sit, perhaps, in a moment of silent preparation prior to enjoining the mysteries of our faith? And if you think about God, what are you thinking? What do you think about when you take the host into your hand?

Long before he was a saint or bishop, the 4th century Cyril of Jerusalem said

In approaching … make your left hand a throne for the right, as for that which is to receive a King. … [and] after having carefully hallowed your eyes by the touch of the holy body, partake of it … [1]

A practice to which many of us still adhere. But what are you thinking as you do that? And what are we doing when we hallow our eyes. We hold God in the palms of our hands, both literally and metaphorically. That is the nature of sacrament. Impossibly possible.

Richard Kearney suggests that “one of the most telling ways in which the infinite comes to be experienced and imagined by finite minds is as possibility – that is, as the ability to be.” That is a curious phrase to adopt for God. But Kearney does not offer us some recently discovered ‘Master Word by which we might unlock the ancient Secret of divine nature. [2] Rather it is a kind of poetic conjecture with which to exercise our spiritual muscles.

Many scriptural passages inform us that what is impossible for us is possible for God. John’s prologue tells us that our ability to become sons of God in the Kingdom is made possible by God: ‘Light shone in the darkness and to all who received it was given the possibility (dunamis) to become sons of God.’ Here, it is crucial for us to keep in mind that the Greek term dunamis translates as either power or possibility, a device of semantic ambivalence that is similar to John’s use of the Greek pneuma which translates as either wind or spirit.

And the Gospels are full of metaphors, images, parables and symbols deployed to communicate the eschatological promise in which the “God of small things,”[3] is vibrantly active. Yeast in flour, pearl of great price, mustard seed growing into the largest tree in the world (poetic licence) in which the birds of the sky can roost, and, of course, an infant. Big things grow from little things, minute things.

The little things are imbued with possibility, a possibility only realised when some other agency cooperates. The baker crafts the dough, the pearl is sold at market, the farmer plants the mustard seed and nurtures its growth, the mother nurtures the infant from the very genesis of conception, the cellist plays the cello. There is, as it were, a gift exchange, the mystery of growth, between the human agent and the little thing.

Christ became a little thing, ‘the least of these,’ when he emptied himself of absolute power (kenosis) echoing Isaiah’s striking phrase, ‘a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.’ (Isaiah 42.1-4) Gospel also hath it that the Judgement of the Kingdom is related to how we respond in history, here and now, to ‘least of these, elakhistōn (Matthew 25.40).

Which brings us to the paradox that although the Kingdom has already come – and is “incarnate here and now in the loving gestures of Christ and all those who give, or receive, a cup of water – it still remains a possibility yet to come.” ‘As “eternal,” the kingdom transcends all chronologies of time.’ Christ indicated this when he said, ‘before Abraham was, I am.’ John (8.58) ‘In short, the Kingdom is (1) already there as historical possibility, and (2) not yet there as historically realised kingdom “come on earth.”’ [4]

Now, I am taking merciless short cuts here, but I am steering towards the idea that creation may be depicted as an endless giving of possibility.

Shortly before her death in Auschwitz, Dutch born Etty Hillesum wrote:

You God cannot help us but we must help you and defend your dwelling place inside us to the last.[5]

Centuries before her, Nicholas of Cusa (1404-1464), inter alia, declared that “God is all he is able to be,”[6] a phrase that needs unpacking. Kearney’s words.

Unlike the God of metaphysical omnipotence, … which seeks to justify evil as part of the divine will, … [the] notion of God as an “abling to be” (posse or possest) points in a radically different direction. … Since God is all good, God is not able to be non-God – that is, … defective or evil. In other words, God is not omnipotent in the traditional metaphysical sense[7] … The Divine is not some being able to be all good and evil things. That is why God could not help Etty Hillesum and other victims of the Holocaust: God is not responsible for evil. And Hillesum understood this all too well when she turned the old hierarchies on their head and declared that it is we who must help God to be God. …

If Hillesum and others like her had not let God be God by defending the divine dwelling place of caritas within them, even in the most hellish moments of the death-camps, there would have been no measure of love – albeit as small as a mustard seed – to defy the hate of the Gestapo.[8]

Many figures in literature echo this way of thinking about God, that the possible God relies on human beings to become God.

The immortal Rainer Maria Rilke, in his Letters to a Young Poet, wrote:

Why don’t you think of Him [God] as the one who is coming, one who has been approaching from all eternity; the one who will someday arrive, the ultimate fruit of a tree whose leaves we are? What keeps you from projecting His birth into the ages that are coming into existence, and living your life as a painful and lovely day in the history of a great pregnancy? Don’t you see how everything that happens is again and again a new beginning, and couldn’t it be His [God’s] beginning, since, in itself, starting is always so beautiful?

If He is the most perfect one, must not what is less perfect precede him, so that he can choose himself out of fullness and superabundance? – Must not He be the last one, so that He can include everything in himself, and what meaning would we have if He whom we are longing for has already existed? As bees gather honey, so we collect what is sweetest out of all things and build Him.

So, as Evelyn Underhill wrote,

I COME in the little things,

Saith the Lord:

Not borne on morning wings

Of majesty, but I have set My Feet

Amidst the delicate and bladed wheat

That springs triumphant in the furrowed sod.

There do I dwell, in weakness and in power;

Not broken or divided, saith our God!

In your strait garden plot I come to flower:

About your porch My Vine

Meek, fruitful, doth entwine;

Waits, at the threshold, Love’s appointed hour.[9]

Doug Bannerman © 2021

[1] St Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lecture 23.21 see CHURCH FATHERS/ Catechetical Lecture 23 (Cyril of Jerusalem).webarchive

[2] Richard Kearney “Re-imagining God” in John D Caputo and Michael J Scanlon Eds. Transcendence and Beyond: A Postmodern Enquiry (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press 2007) pp51-65

[3] The God of Small Things is the title pf Arundhati Roy’s wonderful novel

[4] Kearney op cit p 53

[5] Etty Hillesum An Interrupted Life (New York: Owl, 1966) p 176

[6] Nicholas of Cusa Trialogos de Possest, in J. Hopkins A Concise Introduction to the Philosophy of Nicholas of Cusa (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press 1978) p69. The original Latin is: Deus est omne id quod esse potest.

[7] As understood by Leibnitz and Hegel

[8] Kearney op cit p 69

[9] From the poem Immanence, by Evelyn Underhill, Nicholson & Lee, eds. The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse 1917

I want you to think about the best feast you ever had. Relive the experience of the best feast ever, what made the experience so great? What was so wonderful?

Now imagine the worst dinner party fiasco ever. What went wrong? Was it a … Christmas occasion???? Ambrose Bierce in “The Devil's Dictionary” defines Christmas in the following way: "A day set apart and consecrated to gluttony, drunkenness, maudlin sentiment, gift-taking, public dullness and domestic behaviour". 

Feast or fiasco – the best feast ever or the worst banquet fiasco. Remembering these two experiences is a key to unlocking Mark 6.14-29.

Herod’s Banquet fiasco contrasts Jesus’ Feast of Equals (Mark 6.14-29 and Mark 6.30-44). Herod’s banquet fiasco is an orgy of gastronomic overindulgence rather than a feast. In Herod’s palace are the elite of his day, fat cats who profit at the expense and pain of others.  

Later, we will encounter a new feast. At Jesus’ feast, the people of God share a meal of elegant simplicity. Bread and fish is given to Jesus. Jesus offers to God gratitude for the gifts of the earth and shares bread with a great multitude. (5000 men the Bible says, not counting women and children). This second feast of bread and fish is a miracle of sharing the fruits of the earth. The sharing of bread and fish echoes the story of Manna in the desert when God’s people taste liberation from oppression. Jesus’ feast is the Good News; but it is not where we are today.

We struggle today with the first “meal” – the banquet fiasco of Herod. According to the historian Josephus, Herod had John the Baptist killed because John was just too good at his job. Josephus writes: “When others joined the crowds about John because they were aroused to the highest degree by his words, Herod became alarmed” (in Meyers 2008:14).  Herod was worried that John was such a good public speaker that he might inspire an uprising.

Mark is not interested in writing an historical textbook. Since Mark’s version differs from the historical facts of which Mark would have been aware, clearly there is a writing strategy that he wants us to understand.

Mark writes a parody of the death of John the Baptist. The word parody is important for us. Parody is satire – how one can criticise the powers that be through humour and the appeal to the ridiculous.  Mark’s interest is in explaining the injustice of Herod’s kingdom through parody.

Mark creates a scene by appealing to the ridiculous. Herod and his friends are overindulging.  On a drunken whim Herod makes a promise to his stepdaughter because she pleases him. There is something unsettling about Herod being pleased by his stepdaughter’s dance and we the reader can sense the underlying incestuous nature of the scene. Given that Herod has married his brother’s wife, there is a problem here. The marriage of Herod and Herodias, his brother Phillip’s wife, is how Herod expands his kingdom and the political alliances he forms through marriage. The incestuous nature of Herod’s relationship and how his family dynamics leak into his political relationships explains Mark’s view of the inner circle of Jewish power. Through parody Mark implies that the structures of power are incestuous.  Military, commerce, and government are in bed together.

Herodias, stepdaughter of Herod, asks for John’s head on a platter. Herod obliges to “keep the oath he made”. The head symbolises honour. Herod trades the prophet’s honour to honour his own stupid drunken oath. What is ridiculous is how Herod honours his oath to Herodias because of the law but honours little else in the law. The ridiculous banquet scene is filled with the bitter pain of what it means to lose a truth teller. The parody is there to empower us with insight.

Herod’s banquet is a parody that empowers us. It equips us to do two things. First, it helps us to see oppression as it really is. It puts “success” under a microscope. Power, money, and influence in Herod’s life does not seem as successful as the illusion would make us believe.

Secondly, the parody of the banquet offers an image of the cost of discipleship. The scene is set during the ministry of the disciples who go out in twos to heal and announce the good news (Mark 6.1-14). For truth tellers who announce an alternative world view, the consequences are that the world and its powers will not like it. In short to follow Jesus, to announce grace and mercy and a new way of life, you will lose your head. Oscar Romero knew that. Steve Biko knew that. Dorothy Day knew that. Andrew Wilkie knows that. 

The parody of Herod’s banquet prepares us also for the death of Jesus who dies similarly. Herod was grieved at the death of John. The word for grieve is used again of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. John died; Jesus will die too. Caiaphas hosting a banquet of his own will call for the death of Jesus.   

In concluding I want to leave you with a gift, a present. The gift is a word. Gasvryheid generally translates as hospitality. But it means more than that. Gasvryheid describes the kindness in welcoming a guest. Gas means guest. Vryheid means freedom. Thus, gasvryheid is the freedom of the guest.

This Good News can surely be the foundation of that beautiful word: Gasvryheid – freedom of the guest. Surely the feast that Jesus creates is precisely freedom; freedom from oppression, freedom from some having too much and others having too little, freedom to share so that there is fair balance where we all have enough.

Picture now in your hands two invitations to different parties, two different meals. One invitation is to Herod’s banquet. A second invitation is the feast of bread and fish with Jesus.  What type of meal do we want? Do we want a meal in Herod’s palace? A meal that is toxic because its indulgence is based on the slavery and exploitation of others? Or do we want to share in the meal that Jesus offers? The meal that Jesus offers is gasvryheid – freedom of the guest.

A doctor and a lawyer were talking at a party. Their conversation was constantly interrupted by people describing their ailments and asking the doctor for free medical advice. After an hour of this, the exasperated doctor asked the lawyer, "What do you do to stop people from asking you for legal advice when you're out of the office?" "I give it to them," replied the lawyer, "and then I send them a bill." The doctor was shocked but agreed to give it a try. The next day, still feeling slightly guilty, the doctor prepared the bills. When he went to place them in his mailbox, he found a bill from the lawyer.

The above joke reminds me of a home situation. You may be aware that I am the eldest of four daughters. Two of my sisters are doctors, one in South Africa and the other is a head of department in Tallah hospital Dublin. From time to time my father asks my sisters for medical advice. Their reply is always the same: “Go to your GP.” For this reason, he was reasonably upset to find out that I was given extensive medical advice and a list of medical treatments I could use. He wanted to know why I received medical advice from my sisters while he was merely told to “go to his GP”. Reflecting, I suggested to him that the difference between him and I was perhaps that I took advice while he argued with and then rejected similar advice.

A doctor’s professional advice is received with respect in an hospital environment while it’s doubted in the family home. Similarly, Jesus says he is a prophet is without honour – he is disowned by his family.

Jesus, a prophet with honour except within the home context, is unable to be the transforming presence he wants to be: “He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.” It is a chilling assessment to consider the ways in which we prevent prophets and other ministers from being effective. We could consider the following questions:

·         What are the ways in which I might be blocking the effectiveness of God’s spirit in me?

·         What are the stumbling blocks in my heart or this community they may prevent a full working of God’s power?

·         What are the ways that I choke faith?

·         Is my unbelief preventing a full experience of God’s work?

Holman Hunt’s painting has Jesus knocking on a door, but the latch is on the inside. The door can only be opened from the inside. With God there is no forcible entry. The decision to allow God to work in our lives is ours.

In Mark 6 Jesus preaches in the synagogue, is rejected, and withdraws. Jesus then re-engages his mission by sending his 12 disciples out in 2’s into the villages. The disciples return joyous at their success. Mark 6 continues the pattern of engagement and withdrawal seen in Mark 1 and 3. In all three chapters Jesus engages, is rejected, withdraws, and then regroups and continues. The purpose of this pattern is to remind the reader or disciples that despite failure the story must go on, discipleship must continue. Remember that Mark’s Gospel is manual on radical discipleship, on non-violent revolution, on disrupting the status quo where some accumulate wealth at the expense of the many. As disciples who partner with God in mending creation, failure is a given. Mark’s Gospel inspires the resilience to continue with a vision of a transformed society in the face of failure.

Jesus is rejected by his family, his relatives, and his own household. Stripped of clan and tribal support Jesus continues his itinerant mission in the village. The word apostolein means to send out. From apostolein we derive apostles. The apostles are sent out into the village with the mission of Jesus. What is their equipment for this mission? In our context they would require WWCC, Faithfulness in Service certification, Safe Ministry Certificate, Police Clearance, evidence of training, references, a role description indicating who they are accountable to and supervised by and a relevant license for ministry. Jesus instead equips them only with the means of travel: a staff, and sandals, but nothing else. Instead, the disciples are to rely solely on the hospitality of the villages they minister in. The hospitality does two things, I think. It keeps the disciples respectful and disables any attempt to impose their views of ministry with force.

Secondly it is reminiscent of Exodus 16. In the same way that the spiritual ancestors under Miriam and Moses relied on the hospitality of God in the wilderness so too must the disciples in Mark rely on God’s hospitality through others. In Exodus 16 God’s people rely on God’s hospitality through Manna. Manna is aphid poo. Aphids are scale insects who eat tamarisk leaves and defecate 130 percent of their body mass. Even today Bedouin shepherds collect “man” or “manna” for food. In English manna is sometimes called honeydew. By relying on manna Moses and Miriam and the escaped slaves learned to live off the land and deprogrammed their reliance on slavery, over consumption and hoarding.

Similarly, Israel was invited to affirm its identity as descendants of escaped slaves at every harvest. The covenant renewal ceremony is outlined in Dt. 26: 5-9, which literally in Hebrew began “Arami oved avi”: a wandering Aramean is my ancestor. Oved is wandering but can also be a “stray,” a “wanderer”, someone who is feral, wild or a maroon, like an escaped slave ("If you look at how the word 'maroon' came about, you will recognise that it was a derogatory term which described the slaves who leave the plantation and did not return). The liturgy at harvest festivals says, in the words of Jim Perkinson:

“we are a social movement of folk who claim as “father” or “mother”—as our ancestral line—anyone in history who has dared to “exit,” to jump away from empire, to leave the oppressive city-state system, re-learn skills out in the wild with herd animals as teachers, live on the land like escaped slaves making common cause with indigenous dwellers who still know how to do such.”

Today is the beginning of NAIDOC week. In our Australian context I often think that the First Nations people are the true prophets who like Jesus are without honour in their own land. Like Jesus the First Nations people have been treated as a ‘scandalion’ by us white colonisers. Should we learn to listen to the God given prophets in our land, the First Nations peoples, much can be learnt.

I spoke earlier of the stumbling blocks to God’s power working in our lives. Australia is one of the most secularised nations. Secularisation and its lack of appreciation for symbol, metaphor and ritual is a significant stumbling block to spirituality flourishing. First Nations people with their wisdom and connection to country and spirit are much needed prophets who can help us to reconnect with what is most real. A closing prayer:

God of all wonder,
We pause in the busyness of our days to listen deeply to the wisdom of this land and those who belong to it.

May our minds be open to dialogue,
May our hearts be open to transformation and

May our hands do the work of reconciliation.

We ask that the Spirit accompany us on our journey of healing on these lands, seas and waterways; We also ask the Spirit of peace be with all those who are living a life of fear, dispossession and distress. We make this prayer in the name of Jesus our brother and friend. Amen.

Sources:

Jim Perkinson, St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Detroit. https://radicaldiscipleship.net/tag/jim-perkinson/page/2/. Meyers, Ched. Binding the Strongman.

https://www.cns.catholic.edu.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/NAIDOC-Week-for-Parents-2020.p

In Mark 5 Jesus is asked to heal the 12-year-old daughter of a prominent Jewish leader. The journey towards the leader’s home is interrupted by an invisible woman who has bled dry in the 12-year search for a cure for her haemorrhaging. When Jesus resumes his journey to the 12-year-old girl we find that she has died.

The story follows the usual a-b-a sandwich technique used by the writers of Mark’s Gospel: the story of the girl is intercalated by the story of the woman haemorrhaging blood. What unites the story of the woman being healed of her haemorrhaging with the story of the sick daughter is the number 12. The repeated use of the symbol 12 requires that the woman and the girl are the interpretative lens for each other’s story.

The two stories in Mark 5 are experiences of healing. The symbol 12 elevates the meaning of these stories further. 12 symbolises Israel. The 12-year-old daughter of the Jewish leader is in a coma. Her coma symbolises that the faith of the Israelites is dead, it has lost all life and its children are “dead”. By following the teachings of the prophets lived out in the sermons and lifestyle of Jesus the faith of Israel can be resurrected just as the girl is resurrected. The woman haemorrhaging symbolises how the people of the land are bled dry by Temple and Roman authority. The most vulnerable in society, the girl child and the elderly sick woman without a male protector, experience the worst effects of a systemic abuse.

The healing is subversive. While the 12-year-old daughter of a Jewish leader is clearly a daughter of Israel, Jesus uses the term daughter to address the older woman. The reason this is so subversive is that the woman bleeding for 12 years is an invisible outsider, a poverty stricken, ill woman excluded from Israel, excluded from religion, excluded from society, excluded from family and thought to be excluded from God. Moreover, she is told that her faith has healed her; her faith is juxtaposed with the disciples’ lack of faith in Mark 4. The scandal of Jesus is naming an outcast woman as an icon of faith and a true daughter of Israel. What is even more subversive is that Jesus brings direct attention to the fact that she was healed through touch. The purity codes meant that the bleeding woman was unclean and everyone she touched would be unclean. The attention Jesus draws to touch highlights the woman’s courage in stepping over the pure/impure boundary. Jesus, having been touched by the older woman, is also unclean. Yet in his “unclean” state enters the home of a Jewish leader and successfully heals his daughter.

The writers of Mark’s Gospel are provocative in that they have brought to light a story that is taboo and invisible. To state the bleeding obvious (pun intended), the woman “with the issue of blood” is not suffering from a 12-year nosebleed. Her haemorrhaging is not stated, but her bleeding may possibly have been a menstrual period with excessive flow or a type of abnormal uterine bleeding.

Following the example of Mark’s Gospel, we too can bring to light stories of suffering that are taboo and invisible. While the suffering from the COVID pandemic is globally significant, researchers are helping us understand that the shadow pandemic of domestic abuse is horrific. In our context and the context of Mark 5 we bring to light the stories of suffering of women and children rendered invisible by societal structures, in this case the effects of domestic abuse. By making visible the invisible the healing journey can begin.

Jesus differs from the disciples and the crowds in his response to the woman with the issue of blood. While in the busyness of helping others the disciples rush past the older woman, Jesus practices what Carol Gilligan calls “an unhurried presence.” Jesus is centred and grounded, noticing shifts in energy and power. Likewise, we too can learn the spiritual practice of being an unhurried presence and offer compassion to those we journey alongside.

The church together confers baptism on babies and children. Church members pledge their support for baptised children and promise to nourish them in the faith of the church. As these children reach the age of 12 like Jairus’ daughter, it may be tempting to revert to judgement and irritation rather than being the compassionate unhurried presence 12-year-olds need.  From 12 the teenage brain undergoes tremendous development. The neural pruning in the brain means that teens will forget and lose their possessions, they cannot help it. The growth of the limbic system means that teens have roller coaster emotions. The pre-frontal cortex is responsible for executive function like planning, offering thoughtful mature responses and understanding cause and effect. For teens, the connections between the pre-frontal cortex and the rest of the brain are in development until about 18 for girls and 25 for boys. Now add a volatile cocktail of hormones and you could have a perfect storm. Teens need our compassionate unhurried presence in developing their full potential.

Values

In February 2021 Alstonville Anglicans’ leaders were on retreat. They considered what they loved best about Alstonville Anglicans. As stories were shared, something beautiful happened: it was as if a stunning gift floated down from heaven and nestled amidst us. What follows are the best words that we are able to offer, to describe what we love best about Alstonville Anglicans.  When you come to us and when we go to you, this is what we are thinking and feeling about you.

•      Beloved:

•      each person comes into the world as an original blessing from God. Thus, each person is a beloved person: significant, wanted and loved.

•      Belonging:

•      anyone who wants to belong already belongs. We want to welcome each other as a gift, saying, “my greatest difference from you is my greatest gift to you”. Community matters and is protected. We want to consciously enjoy each other hearing “the Christ in me sees the Christ in you.”

•      Being:

•      we are human beings not human doings. Our being present is important. The Spirit of God vibrates within us “like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven.”

•      Believing:

•      we are partners with God in living heaven on earth now. We want to be one call among many, offering a provocative but compassionate voice calling for a whole new way of thinking and believing that is loving, liberating and lifegiving.

•      Blessing:

•      As beloved original blessings, we are blessed to be a blessing to others. God is always on God’s way through us to creation, of which humans are a part. We believe everyone is called, that everyone has something beautiful to do for God. We want to be the sort of beloved community that creates space for people to express their calling.

The values above are a statement of how we view you and ourselves, and every stranger that God sends us, who is a friend in waiting. The best news is that there is little for each of you to do, except to be who you already are. Each of you are beloved original blessings. Each of you belong to God and each other. Aware of your inner being, you believe in loving, life-giving and liberating ways. You are a blessing to others, making life even more beautiful for them. This is the energy of Alstonville Anglicans: beloved, belonging, being, believing, blessing.

Many young children climb into bed with their parents because they are scared during the night. Young adults fear what their HSC or university results will be and worry about careers and unemployment. There is widespread concern about global warming. Older Adults fear blood clots after COVID vaccinations; their driving licence renewal tests and failing health. Everyone has some fears and often this is temporarily necessary; for example, we need caution crossing roads. However, some fear is irrational. 

How we deal with fear is the issue. Some people seem to brush fears aside and “get over it” while others seem stuck and even paralysed by fears. Why? What’s the difference? How might we live with a cautious awareness of dangers and, at the same time, live joyfully without anxiousness? Maybe our Bible readings give us the answer. 

Today, we have heard some small parts of the story of Job and the Good News according to Mark. There’s always a connection between First (or old) Testament reading and Gospel. Today the two readings we heard are connected by the subject of water (or sea). 

The people of Israel had a thing about water. They didn’t like the sea. Perhaps that’s why they named what we would call a big lake The Sea of Galilee! The Israelites thought that water was the domain of demons; a place for the evil one. In their minds, water was a place where God had opposition. So, the Israelites feared the sea and preferred to stay on dry land where they thought that they were in the security of God’s power. Israel was not a seafaring nation. The people believed that God was at war with the wild forces that ruled the sea. 

Job Chapter 38 gives God’s profound response to the questions of Job as to why God would allow a good person to suffer. In our first hymn today, we were asking the same questions that Job had been asking. Why God? God’s response is to ask, “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell me if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements?” Then, in verse 8, there’s the important words that tie in with the Gospel story of the storm at sea when Jesus and his disciples are in a boat. God says to Job “Who shut in the sea with doors …. and prescribed bounds for the sea?” In other words, God is saying “who do you think has control of the sea?”

God’s ironic words “surely you know” remind us of how much we actually don’t know. This is a very sharp and purposeful lesson for us to never think that we know everything that God knows. We are being reminded that this amazing love that God has for us, and for everything that God has created, can be seen in the way the world functions and that God’s love gives meaning to everything.

Well now, what are we able to learn from Mark? Earlier in Mark we have been told about Jesus’ power in teaching; we have seen this power confirmed by Jesus’ defeat of the demonic forces that plague our human existence and make it hard for people to live the life that God intends us to live. 

This 4th chapter of Mark has had a number of parables on the kingdom. Last week we heard the parables of growing seed and the mustard bush. I really appreciated the way Desiree explained that Mark’s message of hope can sustain us against the darkness we encounter. The mustard seed inspires our faith, imagination, patience and endurance. 

This section of Mark finishes with story we heard today of Jesus and the disciples getting into a boat when the evening had come. Jesus wanted to leave the crowd behind and cross to the other side. A storm blows up. We know the story well and, in Sunday School, we probably have all coloured in pictures of Jesus in the boat with big waves about and storm clouds blowing overhead.

There’s a contrast between the behaviour and attitude of the disciples in the boat and the actions and demeanour of Jesus. The disciples are afraid. However, Jesus sleeps through the storm. Jesus simply is not anxious. 

It’s not that Jesus is unconcerned with the reality of evil or that he is uncaring about the fate of his disciples. Yet Jesus is not overcome with anxiety as the disciples are, because he has full confidence in the presence and the power of God to deal with the threats of the stormy sea. 

Jesus has taught that the kingdom of life and justice is a gift from God.  Having faith means accepting that gift and living accordingly. Trusting and living a relaxed, even joyful life without anxiety.  

The disciples in the boat show us that there is a subtle way of not believing. There is a subtle way of not trusting in the Lord. It is being afraid!  A life of fearfulness and constant worrying is a life of subtle unbelief. This unbelief is very subtle because it doesn’t seem like rejection.  Yet, in reality, it is rejecting the peace beyond our understanding that God offers.  Significantly, Philippians 4:4 gives us the formula for a life of peace. It says, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.  Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus”.  

What I see in this story of Jesus and the disciples in a storm at sea is Jesus making it quite clear that being afraid is closely linked to not having faith.  Jesus says in verse 40 “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

If there is faith,…  there is no fear! 

Yes, it’s a tough world. Skyrocketing rental costs are forcing some people into homelessness. (Recently our daughter’s rent went up $100 a week.) The cost of living is rising and seems to be higher than we can manage. It was very relevant that in the first hymn today we sang “children are crying, hungry for food. People are homeless, lost and alone”

The media attention being given to the Tamil refugee family trying to return to Biloela reminds us of our good fortune in Australia and makes us aware that many of the big problems in this world are “out there” in other places. We certainly live in the “lucky country”.  

Because we are afraid of losing our present security and privileges we can easily overlook and refuse to accept the total availability of God’s protection. We can miss out on all that God promises us. Also, if we are insecure, we might not be as welcoming and generous as we might otherwise be.

The story of God’s power in Jesus stilling the storm reminds all of us that fear in the challenges of living a Christian life hides something very grave; a lack of faith! This Gospel story is teaching that our level of fear rises depending on the smallness of our faith. Less faith means more fear. More faith means less fear.

If there is faith, there is no fear of the difficulties and threats we inevitably face in this broken world. Although there may not be rest, with faith there is profound peace.

Our encouragement is in knowing that trusting in God’s amazing love for each of us is what gives us reason to have joy and courage to face the adversities and challenges of our lives.

Ezekiel 17:22-24

22 Thus says the Lord God: I myself will take a sprig from the lofty top of a cedar; I will set it out. I will break off a tender one from the topmost of its young twigs; I myself will plant it on a high and lofty mountain. 23On the mountain height of Israel I will plant it, in order that it may produce boughs and bear fruit and become a noble cedar. Under it every kind of bird will live; in the shade of its branches will nest winged creatures of every kind. 24All the trees of the field shall know that I am the Lord. I bring low the high tree, I make high the low tree; I dry up the green tree and make the dry tree flourish. I the Lord have spoken; I will accomplish it.

Mark 4:26-34

26 He also said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, 27and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”

30 He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? 31It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; 32yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”

33 With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; 34he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples. 

Introduction

New immigrants to Australia surely provide hours of entertainment to true blue, dinky die, fair dinkum, yocal local Aussies. For example:

·      An immigrant’s terror at all the different things that kill you in country Australia.

·      Bringing a plate to a bring-and-share function because you were asked to “bring a plate” and feeling silly because your plate is empty.  

·      Scratching your head and trying to translate the untranslatable such as this: “pass my sunnies would ya. I gotta make tracks cos I’m meeting the rellos for brekkie at the maccas near the servo”. Even writing this down has caused by spell check to melt down in a hissy fit.

When my family and I first arrived in Australia, it was our gardening habits that amused the locals. We had created a garden bed around what we thought were the most beautiful ferns. The Aussies were in hysterics. Turns out our “ferns” were hated bracken that farmers spent hours trying to be rid of. Besides nurturing the bracken, we were delighted with the arum lilies that we tended with much care. In South Africa these arum lilies are sought after expensive plants. In Australia they are such a dangerous, noxious weed, they are illegal to grow. Even having them on your property could cop you an outrageously expensive fine.

In reflecting on these early experiences, the number one lesson to learn is the importance of understanding context. Context determines meaning. In one context, a flower is highly treasured, in another context that same flower is so noxiously dangerous it can totally destroy one of the world’s most unique biodiversity hotspots.  We can apply this lesson to reading scripture – context determines meaning.

Context of Mark 4: 26 -35

Besides the narrative context of a Biblical passage, we also pay attention to the geographical, economic, historical and political contexts.

Narrative and geo-politcal context

Jesus precedes the parable about the seed growing by itself with the parable of a crop that produces an overabundance (Mark 4.1-9). The crop is out of control.  The story is dangerously and politically subversive. With such a bumper crop, any tenant farmer can pay off the entirety of his debt and have wealth left over. Jesus is threatening the basis of the serf economy of this time. Through this parable Jesus is announcing the good news of the kingdom – the cancellation of debt and the freedom of people – the day of jubilee.

For first century middle eastern Galilean subsistence farmers, mustard is noxious plant (Mark 4.30-32).  Mustard seed is so invasive it is banned from gardens by rabbis because it would take over. Why on earth would anyone plant a mustard seed? It would be the equivalent of a Northern Rivers macadamia farmer planting lantana or alligator weed.  

The flavour of these stories is anarchy. Jesus is comparing the kingdom of God to wild, untamed, out of control growth of both good and bad seed – all of which are embraced. The grain harvest is as feral as the mustard seed harvest, and neither can be controlled, and both are abundant.

Biblical context

The parable of the seed that grows all by itself and no one knows how, and the mustard seed evoke memory from different aspects of the biblical context including Ezekiel, Moses, Exodus and Abraham and Sarah our spiritual ancestors.

Mark uses the parable from Ezekiel in telling the story of the mustard seed. The small sprig planted by Yahweh will bear fruit and the branches will shelter birds in Ezekiel 17.22 as they do in Mark 4.30-32.

In Ezekiel the tree metaphor is two edged: while it refers to the shelter offered by trees (as in Ezekiel 17.22). The tree image also criticises political empires. In Ezekiel 30 God will cause the imperial trees to be cut down, “and upon its ruin will dwell the birds of the air” (Ezekiel 31.4). In Ezekiel 30 and 31 the empire of Egypt will fall. In Mark 4 the empire of Rome and temple religion will fall.

Mark also evokes memories of the Exodus people, runaway slaves, feasting on Manna as it rained down from heaven. The lavishness of the crops described in the parables of Mark 4 point to the abundant provision of God for God’s people in the wilderness of the desert after fleeing Pharoah’s Egypt.

Mark’s Gospel is a manual on political resistance, a “how to” guide for resisting empire. In today’s terms Mark’s manual on effective far-reaching discipleship translates well for those critiquing colonial exploitation, capitalism, racism and oppressive economies that privilege the wealthy by stealing from the poor. In times of fatigue, when hopeful optimism turns to depressing cynicism, Mark’s parables advocate patience, and instil courage and hope. When faced with the powers of oppression Mark’s Gospel inspires faith over anxiety and the keen reminder that the small acts of resistance yield abundant dividends.

Mark’s parables in the context of 21st century Alstonville Anglicans

In our context we may not be faced with the oppressive onslaught of a Roman empire and a corrupt religious institution exploiting the vulnerable. However, Mark’s message of hope against darkness and that the small acts of light are stronger than any darkness, does sustain us. Current struggles that we may be concerned about include the looming climate catastrophe and the struggle for women’s dignity, safety and full personhood in a time when domestic violence against women has never been higher. This week a report was released that indicates that domestic abuse is higher in the Anglican church than the national average. Clearly there is something about the culture, patriarchy and explicit and implicit messages of our Anglican churches that breed a violent environment. It is normal when working for positive transformation to feel despondent. At these low times Mark’s message about the effectiveness of the mustard seed inspires our faith, our imagination, our patience and our endurance as we partner with God for a world of mercy and justice.

On a personal level some may be weighed down by illness, mental health issues like depression or anxiety, grief or loneliness. The journey to full flourishing health and healing takes courage and energy. There may be times when we feel that the struggle to be whole is too overwhelming for us. We may be tempted to give up and give in. Again, Mark’s parables reach into us, reminding us that it is more common than we realise to feel despondent. In moments when we feel our efforts are too small we remember the power of the mustard seed that yields an abundance and kind shelter to others despite its small beginning. Our small efforts work in the long run. We can choose faith over anxiety, creativity and imagination over negativity and patience over apathy.

I conclude with three sentences written on the wall of a Jewish concentration camp in Cologne during World War 2.

I believe in the sun when there is no sunshine.

I believe in love even when there is no one around.

I believe in God even when God is silent. 

Psalm 130 by Sinead O’Connor

Out of the depths I cry to you, oh Lord
Don't let my cries for mercy be ignored
If you keep a count of sins oh who would stand?
But you have forgiveness in your hands

And I've heard religion say you're to be feared
But I don't buy into everything I hear
And it seems to me you're hostage to those rules
That were made by religion and not by you

And I'm wondering will you ever get yourself free
Is it bad to think you might need help from me?
Is there anything my little heart can do
To help religion share us with you?

For oh your like a ghost in your own home
Nobody hears you crying all alone
Oh you are the one truly voiceless one
They have their back turned toward you
For worship of gold and stone.

And to see you prisoner oh makes me weep
Nobody hears you screaming in the streets
And it's sad but true how the old saying goes
If God lived on earth people would
Break his windows.

I long for you as a watchman longs
For the end of night...

Reflections on Mark 3:20-35
Introduction

Two Welshman are stranded on an island. Left to fend for themselves they build homes for themselves, even churches and pubs. Years later they are rescued. Puzzled, the captain of the ship rescuing them asks: “I understand that you have two pubs, and two houses. But why do you have three churches?” The Welshman explained: that is the church that I go to. This is the church that he goes to. And that over there is the church that neither of us go to.

The joke was told to me by Welsh priest who chose to be self-deprecating about her own culture. Yet the story of who is in and who is out seems universal across the cultures. Moreover, it is often the case that what does in fact unite us is our joint animosity to a third party.  One published study found that people are more likely to bond over a shared dislike rather than a shared fondness of a third party (“that is the church that neither of us go to”).

I doubt very much that excluding others based on tribe, race or any other dimension of humanity is our natural state. For example, many observe that young children are content to play with any child regardless of the various aspects of their humanity. We are taught prejudice in discerning who is in and who is out through our culture. We are socialised with boundaries that can store up privilege of the strong against the weak.

Inside and outside

The theme of insiders and outsiders is a continual theme through the Gospel, but there is a difference. A central message of Mark is that those who are insiders are actually outsiders. And those who think they do not belong or are the outsiders are in fact the insiders. Throughout the Gospel of Mark, the disciples and members of his family rarely understand Jesus’ vision. Yet the anavim, the ha amaretz, those excluded by the rules of religion, have a clear grasp on the Good News Jesus offers. The anawim were the poor: the vulnerable, the marginalized, and socio-economically oppressed, those of low status without power.

Mark has a strategy to highlight division and inclusion, insiders and outsiders. A sandwich technique begins one story, interrupts with another and then returns to the first story. In Mark 3:20-35 the sandwich is clan – conflict – clan. The effect of the sandwich technique highlights the widening rift between Jesus and the traditional structures of belonging, both clan and state.

Why are the family upset with Jesus?

Jesus has engaged in a full-frontal attack on the Pharisees and the Scribes by healing a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath day in a synagogue. Not very subtle – usually if people break the rules, they at least have the decency to try not to be caught. Instead of laying low it seems that Jesus is taunting the religious powers.

Jesus is the thief in the night, he compares himself to a criminal, who will come and bind the strongman. Who is the strongman? In this dialogue it appears to be the Pharisees who have power. Jesus as a stronger man, a surprise criminal, will bind the religious rulers. The reason Jesus is stronger is because he in fact is not the ha satan, the pharisees are. The divided house of Israel will fall. The stronger man, the criminal, Jesus, will be victorious and take the spoils of the divided house of Israel by rescuing the anavim.

Why is Jesus upset with his family?

Jesus challenged the narrow confines of family and clan loyalty, believing that God does have favourites, the trinity: the foreigner, the widow and the orphan.

The journey Jesus offers is simple to explain and hard to achieve. Here is how I understand the workings of the passage Mark 3. Think about a close family member or friend that you love dearly. Think about what you want for this person, your deepest hopes and dreams for your beloved. Concretise your loving hopes for your beloved with two or three phrases. Now consciously want what you want for your nearest and dearest for the strangest stranger, a socially oppressed person who stands outside your circle of privilege.

In sympathy with Mark’s theme, we are to see the outsiders as our insiders. This will not be easy, in caring for the outsider, your insiders may make you an outsider too. It can be done, and it can be done well. I think of Beyers Naude as an example. Beyers Naude was an Afrikaner who reached the highest echelons of white Afrikaans achievement. However, he wanted for black people what white people took for granted. In working towards freedom and flourishing for black people, Naude’s own white tribe disowned him. The apartheid struggle was very lonely for him, he was shunned by church and state.

Mark 3 and Reconciliation

According to Mark 3, if we are to follow Jesus, we are to outgrow our family loyalties and cultural boundaries. The same care and effort we want for our loved ones we consciously offer and work towards for the strangest stranger, the one who is most different from you.

To state the obvious, Reconciliation week invites this spiritual practice of forsaking clan and kin in favour of the outsider for our First Nations people who have been made outsiders in the land of their belonging. What we most desire for our loved ones we must want and work towards for First Nations people. In this task we have been given a wonderful gift, a Statement from the Heart.

On May 27, 1967, Australians voted to remove part of the Australian Constitution that treated Indigenous Australians as inferior to non-Indigenous Australians: “In reckoning the numbers of the people of the Commonwealth, or of a State or other part of the Commonwealth, aboriginal natives should not be counted.”

The Statement of the Heart asks each of us for deep listening: “In 1967 we were counted, in 2017 we seek to be heard.”

Binding the strongman today

Who is the strongman today? White fellas. We white people continue to be the ones with power. The devil is not a creature with cartoon horns and a forked tail but a demonic force that stands against the compassion and reconciling love that works through Christ. It is my belief that that unless we willingly and lovingly surrender our power and privilege we too will be bound and plundered.

How do we lay down power? Through accepting the invitation to listen deeply to truth telling. The Statement of the Heart can be received as the powerful gift it is. It represents the heights of spiritual, emotional, communal and psychological maturity that other humans are yet to achieve.

Conclusion

Today is the first Sunday in ordinary time. Let us not forget the power of the Pentecost Spirit from the last two weeks: When the Spirit comes, it binds up those with power, giving them ears to hear. The Spirit unbinds the tongues of those with little power to give them speech for truth telling. May such a Spirit move in Australia so that we who speak in different tongues may nevertheless fully understand each other.

JENNIFER K. BOSSON, AMBER B. JOHNSON, KATE NIEDERHOFFER, WILLIAM B. SWANN Jr. First published: 09 May 2006. “Interpersonal chemistry through negativity: Bonding by sharing negative attitudes about others”. In Personal Relationships: Volume 13, Issue 2. p. 135-150.

My purpose today is

(1) to explain the doctrine of the Trinity in a (hopefully!) clear way and

(2) to suggest how the Trinity shapes our lives as people.

What is the church’s understanding of Trinity?

5 statements are offered.

 1)    Three Hypostasis in one undivided Ousia or Three “persons” in one undivided God

One of the difficulties in understanding the Trinity is that people start with the one God and try to say how there are then three persons. They offer analogies such as the egg with a shell, yolk and protein, or water that is steam, liquid and solid. I do not think, however, that these images are either accurate or helpful.

I suggest we start where Scriptures starts, with the three “persons” (Father, Son and Spirit or Creator Word and Spirit) and suggest how they are One. For example, reflect on the readings today that speak about God in precisely these terms.

The classic formula of the doctrine of the Trinity is that there are three “persons” in one undivided God. Each “person” is fully divine; one is not more God than another. Used here the term persons does not mean what it means today in that each person has a separate mind, nature and will. Rather the three persons share one undivided will, mind and nature. The Greek terms are more helpful in this regard. There are three Hypostasis in one Ousia. Ousia is the divine substance. See before you a dance. While there are three dancers, there is only one dance.

In simple language our belief is that God is beyond us, God is in us and God is with us, at the very same time. Said another way, God is three “persons” who love each other so much that they are one. Said yet another way, God is community.

2)    Persons as relation

It is precisely relationship that defines the Trinity, not the “nodes of being”. In the other words the Creator is the Creator because S/he is the Source of the Word. The Word is the Divine nature existing as flowing from the Creator. (Or the Son is the Son precisely because he is the son of the Father). The Spirit is the Divine nature existing as the love bond flowing from Creator and Word.

3)    Divine processions

Here the word procession is a Scriptural word that describes how the Word comes forth from the Creator and how the Spirit comes forth from the Word and the Creator. As we heard last week, the Spirit proceeds or comes forth as the bond of Love uniting Creator and Word.

4)    Perichoresis

Reflect on John 10.38: “The Father is in me and I am in the Father.” Or John 17.21: “May they be one as you are in me and I am in you may they be in us.” The word for this is perichoresis which simply means that the Divine persons are in each other or flow into each other.

5)    The unity of the Divine Persons “ad extra”

All that distinguishes the Divine persons or hypostases from each other is their relationships, and because everything that God does is done by all three “persons” in unison.

So much for an outline of what the church understands by Trinity, what does it actually mean for each of us today? Here are several suggestions:

What does it mean for me today?

1)    Praying

Reflect on our prayers. We can pray to God, Jesus and Spirit and direct our prayers to each of the three hypostases or persons of the trinity. Many of us pray to God without reflecting to whom we are talking. We can have different relationships with each person of the Trinity.

2)    Trinity shows that to be a person means to be in relationship.

We can understand that we indwell each other. Other humans are our brothers and sisters.

To indwell each other means to live inside the other. This can become the basis for conflict management and discussion; we are invited at times to give up our point of reference and really see it from within the other person’s skin – to walk a mile in another’s shoes as the adage goes.

3)    Revisit our understanding of difference.

Unity is not the negation of difference or the reduction of difference into one. That is uniformity and in the history of the world it is associated with great evil; think for example of the rise to power of Hitler, or the disastrous effects of communism. Unity and uniformity are two very different things; while unity is of God uniformity is not. In the Trinity there is a unity in diversity. There are not three “fathers” or three “sons”. This bears remembering when we discuss ecumenism or different ways of being church or different ways of worshipping. The desire is not for us all to look the same or worship in the same way, or for us to amalgamate into one worshipping community, that is uniformity. The pastors in the three different churches fully understand that there is one church in Alstonville worshipping in three or four different ways. We have unity but no desire for uniformity. 

4)    The church and society

God is community. But humankind is also community. God’s desire is that these two communities should be one. In other words, God’s inner life is a model for our human life.

Trinity teaches us that God is structured along the lines of
self-emptying love. The Creator shares everything with the Word and the Son (Word) gives her/himself totally to the Father-Mother. The spirit is the love that flows from Creator to Word. Our church must be structured along the lines of this
self-emptying love.

 The church is meant to be the place where we see the unity between God and humans taking shape, where we see the process of self-emptying love. People are supposed to see what it means to live in the Trinity by looking at us. Church structures have been revisited in the light of this. Some ways in which we see this happening is in worship, in liturgy and in communion because in communion we are one with God and one with each other. In worship and liturgy, we are many and one at the very same time and so live our Trinitarian life.

Society too should be structured along the lines of self-emptying love. Society should mirror this inner life of God called the Trinity. In Australia we see some of this taking shape in our care for the vulnerable in the policies that are in place to include differently abled children at school and in our protection of the welfare of the mature. At the same time, we realise how we fail in our residual racism that we prefer to deny and not own up to. If we take Trinity seriously this will be the basis on which we reflect on our policies as a nation: the deportation of refugees, the protection of the environment through carbon pricing and our care of animals who with the cosmos are invited to share in the divine life of God.

In other words, we are to oppose that which works against sharing, mutuality, belonging and service which we see modelled in God.

5)    Experiencing God

The psalmist says:

As the sparrow finds a home

And the swallow a nest for herself

Happy are those who find their home in you.

God invites us to make our home in God. We are invited to become part of the divine love affair. The love that flows between Creator and Word flows in us through us and with us. We are baptised into this love affair. We are meant to dwell in this safe place now and forever.

We are accustomed to celebrating Pentecost as a “red day” wearing red clothes and sometimes having red balloons and banners and cardboard doves in the church building. This is not a “modern” development. In 13 century, Bishop Durandus wrote of Pentecost celebration with masses of red rose leaves, actual doves, and sparks of fire blown over the congregation. There was no risk assessment requirement back then.

Also, Pentecost has been celebrated as Whitsunday (white Sunday) with white robes acknowledging the Baptisms which took place that day and the connection of Pentecost with Easter. 

Often, at Pentecost, we have the reading from Acts Ch 2 which tells of the Holy Spirit coming to the Apostles in tongues of fire. There’s rushing wind and speaking in foreign languages. The crowd says these followers of the crucified Jesus are drunk with new wine.  They seem to be so affected by this Holy Spirit that they are babbling like drunks about having the resurrected Lord Jesus in their lives.

Today the lectionary gave us another well-known reading from Ezekiel Chapter 37. The prophet Ezekiel tells the story of the valley of dry bones. This gives us a clear example of why we need to keep Bible passages in context. Four chapters earlier in Ezekiel Ch 33v10, God’s disheartened people in exile in Babylon ask God “How then can we live?” The story of the dry bones is an important part of God’s answer to that question. The answer is that the exiles cannot live without God.

Life requires the Spirit of God. The Spirit of the Lord is a central motif in the dry bones story. Spirit or Breath occurs 10 times in the 14 verses. God makes it clear to the prophet that it is the Spirit that gives life. The Spirit of God can give people life even in the wilderness, even in exile. There is hope for people who say, “Our bones are dried up and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely”. God is perfectly capable of reversing a situation of being dry and completely cut off.

So, with this sense that somehow God’s Spirit brings life even if we are disheartened and feel cut off, we celebrate Pentecost.  As God’s people, we try to understand what the Holy Spirit means to us.

There are some serious misconceptions of Pentecost. Sometimes there is the thought that Pentecost is the “birthday” of the Holy Spirit. However, the Holy Spirit was there at creation “sweeping over the face of the waters” (Genesis 1:2) 

Another misconception is the thought that Pentecost is the “birthday” of the Church. Yet God’s people have always been God’s people. Pentecost is a significant milestone or marker in the life of God’s people, but not the beginning of the Church.

All that can be a bit confusing. Yet thankfully we have the Bible to help explain Holy Spirit to us.

The Ezekiel reading helped and so does the passage from the Gospel according to John we have heard today. John reports Jesus’ farewell speech to his friends which begins with Jesus saying he will send the Advocate from the Father. This isn’t a consolation prize because we have suffered the loss of Jesus. This is simply Jesus promising to give us something really good; to send us the Advocate, the Spirit of Truth, who will testify on Jesus’ behalf.

Our understanding is that an advocate is a supporter of people up on charges in a courtroom. An advocate is a mediator, counsellor, comforter; one who advises, assists, and makes representations on behalf of someone else.

The image of the Spirit as Comforter has been misunderstood throughout history. The comfort provided by an advocate is the comfort of sound advice and direction. Not mere condolence. Therefore, we are to see that this comfort provided by the Holy Spirit is not merely emotional; it’s actual, factual and practical support.

Jesus says he will send to us from the Father, the “Spirit of Truth”. This Spirit of Truth gives us confidence to share honestly with other people; to speak and hear and understand each other.

And the Spirit of Truth opens us up to the Bible’s story about who we are and what we are doing here.

We are God’s people. It is through the Holy Spirit that God reveals himself to us. It is through the Holy Spirit that we can hear God speak. And it’s also through the Holy Spirit that we are able to speak to God.

The Holy Spirit is that power, that gift of God, that enables us to see that God wants to have a relationship of close connection with us. There is something about our God that loves to talk to us. God yearns for us to speak up and answer.

This is an amazing reality. Our God communicates! Isn’t that what we expect when we come to worship? In the readings, the preaching, the silence, the prayers and the singing, aren’t we expecting to hear God and to have God listen to us? We have to be careful not to put God aside in our services; to shut God out.  Boldness and confidence to respond to God is needed. We are encouraged to be absolutely certain that God is listening to each of us as we struggle to express something to God.

So, Pentecost is the time that we celebrate the relationship with God made possible by the Holy Spirit. Time to give thanks to God for being so communicative, so talkative, so lovingly self-revealing. The Holy Spirit helps us to find the words to praise God as we should, to speak to God in words and music that are more beautiful that we ourselves could devise so that God might speak to us words more wonderful than we could ever anticipate by ourselves.

How does this work?   Paul says (in Rom 8:26), the Holy Spirit enables godly, truthful speech because the Holy Spirit is interceding and pleading with God for us. By ourselves, we are not very capable in our ability to speak to God. “We do not know how to pray as we ought.” Fortunately, the Spirit “intercedes with sighs too deep for words”. The Holy Spirit steps in for us, finding the words for us that we want to speak to God.  Isn’t that amazing? Wonderful? The Holy Spirit is not only the way that God speaks to us, reveals God to us, but is also the way that we are enabled to speak to God. The Holy Spirit is that power, that gift of God that enables us to be in loving conversational relationship with God. The great Wesley hymn, “O for a thousand tongues to sing, our loosened tongues employ” is answered. The Holy Spirit will make our tongues work brilliantly.

However, knowing all this doesn’t make it happen easily. There’s no doubt that often we find it really difficult to hear God and even more difficult to speak to God. This is the main reason people give for why they do not pray. They say, “I can’t really hear God and I didn’t know what to say, or which words to use”.

But the Holy Spirit does step in to make it happen! If I ever find the right words to say something that touches your heart in a sermon, it’s not because I am a brilliant preacher; it’s because God gave me the words. Likewise, if you ever consciously hear anything in a sermon, despite all of the perfectly good reasons why you might not, it’s because the Holy Spirit has enabled you to hear.

Have you ever had the experience when reading the Bible or listening to a Bible reading, when you come to a familiar passage and think “O really!  Here we go again. I know this passage so well” But then, some word or some phrase jumps out at you, really claims your attention and gives you an unexpected new insight.  That’s the Holy Spirit at work.

Christianity is a “revealed religion” which is a fancy way of saying that you don’t “get it,” it “gets you.” You can’t just think to make Jesus present, he has to be given to you. It must come from “on high.” The best Bible study, the best listening to sermons, is a form of prayer; that humble listening, that waiting on the gift of God.

We need this gift of the Holy Spirit, this Spirit of Jesus, this Spirit of Truth, to help us bring out the power we have within us; the power we have to make the world a better place. We need the Holy Spirit, and we have the Holy Spirit so that we too, connected to God, can become fearless witnesses of Jesus Christ. Each of us has been called by Christ and sent out in the Spirit to continue the message of Christ.

 Let us have the courage of our convictions to go out in faith and be Christ's presence in our hurting world.

Last Thursday, we, the Church at large that is, celebrated the Ascension of Our Lord; and in 11 days’ time, we will commence the Week of Prayer for Reconciliation,[1] which is book ended by 2 significant national dates, the anniversary of the 1967 Referendum and the 29th anniversary of the Mabo judgment.

I am provoked to wonder how the ascension of Christ might have a bearing on how we think about justice and peace in Australia, and the gulf that lies between white and black people. This is by way of a thought experiment)

Firstly, let me say that the biblical representation of Jesus taken up into a cloud[2] does not have to be taken literally, although I have no objection if you do. The Ascension as described in the Acts of the Apostles is a symbolic way of saying something that cannot be put into words.

In the narrative process we have followed during Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent and Easter, we have journeyed alongside folk who forged an intimate and significant relationship with a man called Jesus. The quality of that relationship is such that when he was killed, their sense of loss was overwhelming. They were paralysed, benumbed, a perfectly normal human reaction to loss or change.

How do you convey such paralysis of feeling to someone else? It is impossible, unless your respondent has also suffered that paralysis. And even then, you cannot be entirely sure that your message will get across. So, you tell a story; you employ powerful symbols of your culture in order to express the intensity of what you are feeling. You exaggerate and go into great detail in order to make sure you are heard and understood.

The archetypal fishing story arises from the immense excitement of the catch, the proverbial sea monster that no one hitherto has caught. A moment of self-transcendence can only be captured by telling a story, and exaggerating like crazy. This is not telling lies; it is the compulsion for intimacy that wants to share this moment of excitement. It is one of the most intimate things a fisherman can offer you. The Fish Story. And some of the apostles were Fisher Folk.

So, the paralysed friends, lovers, of Jesus, cannot express their loss, and cannot initially let go of all that their relationship has meant to them. Some of us know how difficult it is to dismantle the room of a family member who has died. We keep the symbols of that presence intact until we are ready to let go. Even so, the dismantling involves feeling the pain; but that is alright, because weeping and tears are pain on the way out. And some symbols remain, a photograph, a keepsake, a small gift, to keep a memory alive, to maintain the structure of a closeness that once was incarnate.

The apostles cannot let go at first. Their distress is so intense that they will not even let Jesus be in a tomb. He simply disappears; he is not in the tomb, nowhere to be found, perhaps in the hope that he is still around - somewhere. Their narrative goes something like this.

We cannot yet dismantle the constructs of our relationship with this remarkable man. We even see him in our everyday life situations. He joins us for breakfast on the beach; he walks along the way to Emmaus; he pokes his fingers into his side to show that it is indeed himself.

 Again, it is a common experience of grief to be aware of someone’s presence, to see them clearly in the room, or out of the corner of the eye. And there is a story to be told.

But once we are able to tell the story, we are starting to let go. The difference between having and being is clarified. If I am a relationship, I cannot talk about it; but if I have a relationship, I can talk about it, put a distance between me and it, objectify it, and so put it in its proper place when I am ready. This is no dishonour to the relationship. Rather it gives it an honoured place in my heart along with the other treasures I carry and cherish; and so, I can tell a story about it.

To be able to tell the story is a sign of healing.

A time comes when I can say goodbye in a way that leaves me free, individual, standing alone, but not isolated. And, again, I have a story to tell about my goodbyes. I no longer dwell on the minute details of my process of loss, but offer memories to share. This is, paradoxically, a moment of reconciliation, with self, and with the object of my loss.

How many goodbyes do you have in your life? The pundits tell us that from birth we are engaged in a cycle of attachment and loss. It does not matter whether you are at the beginning of life or approaching the end of it. You have many, many goodbyes already tucked into your shirt. Have you shared them with a significant other? If not, you have something to which you can look forward.

The Ascension is the story of a goodbye offered to us by twelve or more men and women. It is a statement that they have let go. Their fish story is of the Ascension, when they were released from the paralysing grip of grief to grasp their selfhood in a new and wonderful way. The keepsake they retain is not a photo; it is not a pebble off the beach; and it is not something that Jesus might perhaps have made for them. The paradoxical reconciliation with the object of their loss, Jesus Christ, is symbolised in their final offering to us, their touchstone, the Holy Spirit of God, Sophia, Wisdom, whose presence we shall celebrate next week.

Well, you may by now be wondering what the blazes this has to do with the Week of Prayer for Reconciliation. Harken to the voice of the Dreamtime for a moment.

My brother-in-law, the late Father Don Moffat, spent several years on Flinders Island. He had a huge concern for the First Nation peoples of Australia. Here is one bit of his writing:

During the year we hope to be able to bring a small group of Aborigines and clergy together just to sit in a circle together to share stories, and from this we hope to be able to develop a program of Aboriginal story telling for our next clergy conference. We also hope to get the clergy into small groups to think over some simple statements concerning Aborigines without forcing them to come to a conclusion [as might be expected from, say, focus groups][3]. In a circle there is no first and no last. In a circle we can dance together and we can sing together; we can talk and listen to each other; we can quietly ponder together on the deep things of life; we can laugh together and we can cry together.

I quote this to underline the kind of listening that we as a dominant white culture must offer to our black siblings. Reconciliation comes at the end of a process of loss, grieving, painful
re-collection, re-integration of self, and the telling of a number of stories. If a story is to be told properly, it must be heard properly – not something that our Government is good at. If I speak of my pain and you do not hear, truly hear,  then you treat me and my story like the Pharisee and the Scribe who left a mortally wounded man by the roadside; but if you do truly hear my story, and tell it back to me so that I know that you know, then you have been to me the Samaritan who took the wounded man to a place of shelter and healed his wounds.

Your story is symbol and sacrament of your life; my story is symbol and sacrament of my life. Whatever the colour of our skin (I like to think of rainbows in this context; I am blue), may we sit together in a circle where there is no first and no last, except perhaps for the greatest storyteller of them all, and share our lives. And let us respectfully grieve with each other, for our losses are great. And new life will abound. That is Ascension, and my hope for our nation.

Amen.

Doug Bannerman.

Copyright © 2021

[1] 27 May is the anniversary of the 1967 Referendum, 3 June the Mabo Decision

[2] Acts 1.9

[3] My own comment. DDB.

Today I want to focus on the great love that Jesus has provided for us by dying on the cross and rising to new life.

The Gospel reading (John 15: 9-17) has a theme of being connected to one another and centres itself around relationships. It is a relationship passage with an emphasis on love. The passage speaks of the relationship that exists between Jesus and his Father, the relationship that exists between Jesus and his disciples, and the relationship that exists between Jesus and us, living right here in Alstonville.

Three points worth considering today are:

1.   Abiding in Jesus’ love (verses 9-11)

2.   The commandment that Jesus gives (verses 12-13)

3.   Going out and bearing fruit (verses 16-17)

Abiding in Jesus’ Love

The beginning of John’s Gospel emphasises unity between the Father and Jesus. In verse 9 Jesus is speaking of the love his Father shows him and then encourages his disciples to abide in the love that he will provide them.

What does it mean then to abide in Jesus’ love? It means dwelling in a particular place – abiding there – remaining there. The definition further refers to the kind of peace and stability that we can associate with being at home – or at the home of a hospitable friend. The home of Loretta and I is a place of shelter, comfort, peace, stability, places where nurturing takes place and where love exists, grows, and continues to grow. You want to abide there with the people you love the most.

Jesus wants to abide with us. He loves us. Out of this love; Jesus calls us to abide in his love. When we are in relationship with Jesus we can be immersed in his love, surrounded by his love, comforted by his love, and empowered by his love. Love can be the glue that holds everything together.

Think about abiding in love in these terms. A child’s love verses a parent’s love verses God’s love for us. As children the love we display can be self-seeking, self-centred, selfish. “I love you but give me what I want!” This selfishness can also occur towards God – asking Him to give us what we want and then blame Him when we do not get what we want or that our plans do not turn out the way we want them to. We make our plans and tell God to bless them instead of relying on God to direct our paths. While this is a negative view of love a child’s love for their parent is also genuine. In most cases a child will defend their Mum when their Mum is being criticised by others. Parents in most cases display unconditional love toward their children. Sadly, however this unconditional love is not always shown in all relationships that parents have with their children. God’s love for us is unending. God loves us in the happy times. God loves us in the not so happy times, God loves us in times of challenge and great difficulty or when we fall short and make mistakes, he still loves us.

Obedience is needed. Obedience is always part of one’s relationship with God. Love is attractive! Everybody likes to talk about love. Everyone wants to claim their interest in love and celebrate it. We speak passionately and lovingly about the things we love. However, when it comes to obedience not as much emphasis is given to obedience, and the very real character development that results from obedience to the Lord. But with Jesus – love and obedience were always connected; there was never - in the teaching of Christ – any distance between the two.

The Commandment given by Jesus

In verse 10: “If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love…” This is too clear to debate or be denied. If we want to abide in the love of Christ, we need to be engaged with His teaching, through obedience. It is about trust. It is about love. But choosing to abide in Jesus’ love and being obedient to his commandments is a challenge - it is not easy.

It is easy to hit pause in our busy lives and react to a post that a friend has posted online, share our lives on social media, but do we place the same emphasis and hit pause when it comes to Jesus’ role in our lives. What if Jesus placed a post on a social media site? Would we react in the same way we do our friends? The Bible teaches that love for Jesus is not just something you talk about – it is something you do. We need to put our love for Jesus into action. We need to spend time with Jesus, reading His Word and praying to Him. This shows our connection to Him, our relationship with Him and can positively propel us into the day ahead.

In verse 12 Jesus commands his disciples to love one another as he has loved us. The type of love Jesus is speaking about here is agape love. A love that is more about “doing” rather than “feeling”. When we do agape love we are putting others before ourselves. This type of love does not require that we approve of the actions of the other person whom we love – or even that we enjoy their company. It does however require that we act on behalf of that person – to demonstrate love in some practical fashion. A person who displays agape love will do whatever is possible to demonstrate their love for another. They will feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty. They will welcome the stranger and clothe the naked. They will visit the sick and those in prison. Their thrust, their motivation is to give rather than receive.

Examples of agape love within the community and here at Alstonville Anglicans including keeping everyone safe during the COVID pandemic and ministries of the OP Shop, the Pink ladies of Play Place, MU, the Pastoral Care Team and the teamwork shown at the Mother’s Day Fete. Love is in action because we are in relationship with one another. These ministries make God known and present and show His love!

The love in action that Jesus did was to show us the perfect example of love whereby he laid down his life for us. There is no greater love than this. The image of the cross gives us a powerful illustration of this love… that ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son’[1] and we are reminded of this in this season of Easter.

Go out and bear fruit.

Jesus calls his disciples friends. They did not choose him, he chose them. Likewise, we did not choose Jesus, he chose us, so we too are his friends. Jesus taught his friends what he had learned from his Father. The disciples were just ordinary men, but Jesus believed that his friends could continue the work, the ministry that he had started. We too are charged with that same task. What does it mean then to go out and bear fruit? The bearing of fruit could take many shapes and forms, but ultimately it is bringing others that we would meet with, who we connect with, who we are in relationship with to know and love God. The way we can do this is to witness God’s love in our individual lives and illustrate that love as an action. Make “Love” the glue, the very centre of all things we do when we are in relationship with each other.

John 15:9 - 17 is a passage about relationship and at its very core is love. Love begins with the Father and flows through the Son to the disciples and ultimately onto us. Be comforted to know that Jesus loves each one of us if we abide with him. I encourage each of us to love one another as Jesus has loved you.

Amazing Grace written by John Newton is a famous church hymn. Newton spent part of this working life working a slave trader and ship captain transporting slaves. During one of his final voyages a large storm occurred at sea and this scared Newton so he cried out to the Lord for help and he was saved. The slave trade took its toll on Newton and impacted him. Newton became a follower of God, experiencing his love and felt called to serve God as an Anglican priest.[2] Amazing Grace was originally penned as a poem and used in one of Newton’s sermons, later the poem was put music.

Christian musician, Chris Tomlin has researched Newton’s work and made some adaptions to the famous hymn while keeping the essence Newton’s words in tacked. Tomlin discovered the original version had a final verse that is not widely known. He chose to include this verse in his reworking of the hymn. Amazing Grace (My Chains are gone) is a modern-day version and speaks of how the chains of life are now gone when we accept Jesus into our heart’s we can be set free. God is our Saviour and he has ransomed us. Like a flood, God’s mercy reigns – it is unending love amazing grace.[3] My prayer for each one of us is that we receive that same mercy and unending love from God as we abide in his love and bear fruit for His glory! Amen.

Mark Stuckey, Licenced Lay Minister

[1] John 3:16

[2] https://www.ocp.org/en-us/blog/entry/amazing-grace

[3][3] Worship Together Interview – Chris Tomlin

Get in the wheelbarrow

I begin with an illustration; it is a true story.  

Jean François Gravelet, “The Great Charles Blondin”, was a famous French tightrope walker and acrobat. 
Blondin’s greatest fame came in 1859 when he attempted to become the first person to cross the rushing and roaring waters of Niagara Falls on a tightrope. 

With a balancing pole, Charles Blondin walked across the 335m long tightrope in only five minutes. He went on to walk across the falls several times, each time with a different theatrical flair. Later crossings were made in a sack; on stilts; on a bicycle, in the dark with sparks flaring from his pole tips; with his hands and feet manacled; and sitting down halfway to cook an omelette! 

On one such occasion a large crowd gathered as word went out that Blondin was going to attempt yet another incredible feat. A buzz of excitement ran along both sides of the riverbank. The crowd “Oooohed!” and “Aaaaahed!” as Blondin carefully walked across one dangerous step after another — blindfolded and pushing a wheelbarrow. 

Upon reaching the other side, the crowd’s applause was louder than the roar of the falls! Blondin suddenly stopped and addressed his audience:  “Do you believe I can carry a person across in this wheelbarrow?” The crowd enthusiastically shouted, “Yes, yes, yes. You are the greatest tightrope walker in the world. You can do anything!” 

 “Okay,” said Blondin, “Get in the wheelbarrow….” 
No one did! 

Later, on Sept 15, 1860, the world was amazed as Blondin made a crossing carrying his manager, Harry Colcord on his back.

Faith as relationship – abiding in Love

I used to think that faith meant adherence to a set of beliefs. That faith is adherence to a set of (correct) beliefs is the unspoken message of our liturgy. Before Baptism, the Creed is affirmed. Confirmation is about delving into the deeper meanings of aspects of the Creed before one makes a statement of belief to a community of faith.

I now see faith more as a relationship of trusting rest in God’s Love. The word “abide” repeated through John 15.1-8 communicates this aspect of faith strongly. That is why I use the image of Charles Blondin safely transporting his friend in a wheelbarrow across a tightrope above the mighty Niagara Falls. Faith as belief is not enough to “abide” in the wheelbarrow. Abiding in the wheelbarrow implies faith is a resting in a relationship of trust and love. Faith is like floating, the harder you try the less you succeed. The moment you give up fighting the water and simply agree to rest in the water, the floating begins. Likewise when we give up trying so hard with what we believe and don’t belief and surrender to rest in God, faith has a chance.

Not only is faith resting in relationship with God it is also resting in relationship with one another. The community is an essential interconnected dimension of our resting in God’s love. Our very identity is shaped through abiding in God and each other.

Faith can be resting in God’s love and the love of others, and this is precisely where the suffering or pruning begins.

My friend and mentor Brother David tells a story of when he was teaching theology in Central Africa. He was at a loss when one of his students asked him why there were so few saints in the Church. David says: “I closed my eyes hoping for inspiration, and this saying of Jesus popped right up to rescue me. I told him, “God wants us all to grow from sinners into saints and gives us the means to do it. Sadly, we pick out the easy and pleasant parts of the program. Anything even a little unpleasant, we push away… and so we shrink from the pruning, the very thing intended to make us into saints... we need to accept and profit from all that God allows to come our way.”  

I notice that David’s insight explains what happens on the meditation journey. Some people really struggle to meditate and actually this struggle is a valuable grace in itself. Many others however, with some guidance, begin the journey of meditation with a sense of intoxication at the experience. Meditation offers a way to experience God firsthand, as the psalmist says, “to taste and see that the Lord is good.” The experience of love, peace, unity or bliss as dimensions of God, draws you into meditation in a regular and disciplined way. Soon however, God weans us off these experiences of God. Our meditation and prayer will seem drier than a drought ridden farm in central NSW. The earlier experiences of love are gone. This is where the rubber hits the road for if we continue a disciplined practice of meditation, the Spirit strips the ego of all that may block the full light of God’s love, we abide deeper in the vine.

 Abiding in love naturally requires pruning so that nothing but the pure fragrance of love may blossom and flower. Francis teaches us to embrace the necessary pruning that allows authentic love, devoid of all ego, to prosper.

Franciscan Joy
“During a winter journey with St. Francis, Brother Leo reflected on the wonderful work the Franciscans were doing and boasted: Is this not perfect joy?

 St. Francis responded: “Brother, if you were to please God by giving the world a great example of holiness and teaching. If you were to perform miracles, chase away demons, heal ills, and raise the dead, this would not be perfect joy.”

 And “Brother, if you knew all languages, were versed in all science, could
explain all Scripture, had the gift of prophecy and could read hearts, you
would not have perfect joy.”

Now after some silence, Brother Leo questioned the saint, he said,
“O.K. Francesco, what is perfect joy?”

Francis answered: “If, when we arrive at our destination, cold and wet, covered with mud and hungry; if, we knock and the porter is rude, asks us who we are even after we have told him, does not believe our story; If he refuses to open the door, leaves us in the cold and hungry, beats us and drives us away repeatedly, and, if we can accept such cruelty, trusting that it is God who causes the porter to speak and behave so, if we can shake the dust from our feet with patience and charity, note, O Brother, that we have found perfect joy.

Above all the graces and all the gifts of the Holy Spirit which Christ grants to his friends is the grace to overcome oneself; to accept willingly out of love, all trial, injury, discomfort and contempt. These and these alone, are gifts to celebrate. In most else, given that such things come from God and not from ourselves, we have no right to boast.”

The Christ Project

 As branches resting in the Vine, we are the Christ project – we are the body of Christ. We are committed to God’s success in us. We are the secret weapon that God has placed in the world. Through the success of God in us, God has created us to be the solution to poverty, world hunger and injustice. The fact that we truly desire a world that is designed where it is easier to be good, a world where all children play and all humans are nourished into the full potential is proof of God in us. Our conviction, our faith is that the world is waiting for us. The natural consequence of love is suffering. There is a straight line from love to suffering. But the point of this suffering is that it is the Grace to overcome ourselves, that our love way prosper even more.

Culturally there is much happening for us today the 25 April on the 4th Sunday in the Season of Easter – Good Shepherd Sunday. For cultural Christianity today is the feast day of St George. From a secular cultural perspective, for Australians it is also Anzac Day. For us as followers of the way of Christ it is an awkward fit. We may feel ambivalent about occupying this space where both feet are planted firmly in the time and place of the season of Easter but with the spirit of Anzac Day and the feast day of St George on the left and right of us.

Ambivalent means to blow two ways. Maybe this is how we feel. On the one we are impressed by the pageantry of Anzac Day rites, rituals, and observances. For an otherwise secular nation, there is a sense of religiousness about it. There is empathy for all who have lost so much in war, our own nation and our alleged “enemies”. War is a game that no one wins. On the other hand, following the pattern of Jesus, we know that deep down he repudiated violence in all forms. The Wisdom teacher Jesus called into question the myth of redemptive violence and chose to be a sacrifice rather than perpetuate the sacrifice of others.

On Good Shepherd Sunday our ambivalence is held safe within an alternative narrative – the story of the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep. The story is authentic in its honest admission of the reality of wolves who represent internal and external systems of violence. The question is what is our response to the wolves represented in the text? Do we run away as the hired hands did? Do we fight and destroy the wolves as David in the Old Testament did? Or is there a Third Way beyond Fight and Flight? The way of the Good Shepherd?

  The Third way of the Good Shepherd

 The myth of redemptive violence is the belief that violence ”saves”. Violence simply appears to be the nature of things. It’s what works. It seems inevitable, the last and, often, the first resort in conflicts.

 What is Jesus answer to redemptive violence – the myth of the domination system?

 Jesus rejected hierarchies, called for economic equity, rejected violence, broke customs that treated women as inferiors, broke purity regulations that separated people from each other, challenged the patriarchal vision of the family, and rejected the belief that God requires blood sacrifices.

Violent revolution fails because it is not revolutionary enough. It changes the rulers but not the rules, the end but not the means. What Jesus envisioned was a world transformed, where both people and the Powers of domination are in harmony with the Ultimate God of Love and committed to the general welfare of all people and creation, enemies and friends.

  There are at least three weapons that I notice Jesus promotes in the Third Way

 1.      Dying to self

2.     Prayer

3.     Loving and praying for enemies and seeing them as a gift

Die to self

When we make survival the highest goal and death the greatest evil, we hand ourselves over to the gods of the myth of redemptive violence. In contrast the Good Shepherd willingly lays down his life. We trust violence because we are afraid. And we will not relinquish our fears until we are able to imagine a better alternative. The vast majority of Christians reject nonviolence, not only because of confusion about its biblical foundations, but because there are too many situations where they cannot conceive of it working. ... Millions of years of conditioning in the fight or flight response have done nothing to prepare us for this "third way" of responding to evil.  [Walter Wink Engaging the Powers, pages 145-146].

 Prayer

Wink presents prayer as a spiritual discipline, similar to the disciplines of athletes. The slack decadence of culture-Christianity cannot produce athletes of the spirit. [page 180] Prayer is never a private inner act disconnected from day-to-day realities. It is, rather, the interior battlefield on where the decisive victory is won before any engagement in the outer world is even possible. ... Unprotected by prayer, our social activism runs the danger of becoming self-justifying good works. As our inner resources atrophy, the wells of love run dry, and we are slowly changed into the likeness of the beast. [page 181] When we pray, we are not sending a letter to a celestial White House, where it is sorted among piles of others. We are engaged, rather, in an act of co-creation, in which one little sector of the universe rises up and becomes translucent, incandescent, a vibratory centre of power that radiates the power of the universe. History belongs to the intercessors, who believe the future into being. If this is so, then intercession, far from being an escape from action, is a means of focusing for action and creating action. [pages 186-187]

The Gift of the Enemy

Our solidarity with our enemies lies not just in our common parentage under God, but also our common evil. ... We too, like them, betray what we know in our hearts God desires for the world. We would like to identify ourselves as just and good, but we are a mix of just and unjust, good and evil. If God were not compassionate toward us, we would be lost. And if God is compassionate toward us, with all our unredeemed evil, then God must treat our enemies the same way. ... If, however, we believe that the God who loves us hates those whom we hate, we insert an insidious doubt into our own selves. [page 165]

Loving our enemies may seem impossible, yet it can be done. At no point is the inrush of divine grace so immediately and concretely perceptible as in those moments when we let go of our hatred and relax into God's love. ... There is a subtle pride in clinging to our hatreds as justified, as if our enemies had passed beyond even God's capacity to love and forgive. ... If God can forgive, redeem, and transform me, I must also believe that God can work such wonders with anyone.

Concluding comments

Our western culture is presently in the first stages of a spiritual renaissance. And to the extent that this renaissance is Christian at all, it will be the human figure of Jesus that galvanizes hearts to belief and action, and not the Christ of the creeds or the Pauline doctrine of justification by grace through faith. And in the teaching of Jesus, the sayings on nonviolence and love of enemies will hold a central place.

 The Hebrew Scriptures recognise two names for God: YHVH and Elohim. Some Rabbinic teachers indicate that these names are thought to symbolise two aspects of God: justness and compassion. Recognizing that there is often a tension between the two, the Talmud (a type of commentary on the Hebrew Scriptures) describes God as having, as it were, a daily prayer:  "Let my quality of compassion overwhelm my quality of justice".  In the tension between the two, it is mercy and compassion that must gain the upper hand. As with God, so with us. Anzac Day must call forth compassion in each of us: for the survivors of war and the victims of war. But above all compassion must become a daily decision for each of us; compassion must define our morality, identity, and spirituality. Then the Resurrected Body will be seen in the church as compassion is offered through the church for creation, for children, for the vulnerable and for the enemy.

This prayer is for all those who reflect on Anzac Day in anyway, past and present:

Deep Peace of the running wave to you
Deep Peace of the flowing air to you
Deep Peace of the quiet earth to you
Deep Peace of the shining stars to you
Deep peace of the shades of night to you
Moon and stars always giving Light to you.

Our fairy tales begin with “Once upon a time” and end with “happily ever after.” Have you ever wondered what happens after the “happily ever after”?

Once upon a time Snow White meets her handsome prince who wakes her from a poisoned sleep, … and they live happily ever after. Really? What happens after the honeymoon when a sociopathic mother-in-law continues her attempted murder not only of his wife but also him?

Once upon a time Rapunzel lets down her golden hair and much later reunites with her prince and they live happily ever after. Surely, but there must have been consistent arguments about the shower being clogged with her hair.

Once upon a time Cinderella meets her prince charming and they live happily ever after. Until after several years of marriage his irritation at her leaving shoes lying around leads to sniping and bickering.

There may be a temptation to read the Easter stories of Resurrection in the same vein as our cultural fairy tales. It is sad that Jesus died on Good Friday, but he rose from the dead and is with us forever and now we can live happily ever after. The reality of post Easter Resurrection is more brutal and honest and no fairy tale ending. For me, the upfront way the Gospels depict the struggle with faith after the Resurrection lends authenticity to the Resurrection experience that distils that this is Good News, deeper than any happily ever after fairy tales offer.

After the Resurrection, there are the experiences of failed hopes and dreams in Luke 24 .13 as Cleopas and his friend leave Jerusalem for Emmaus.  There is the nauseating fear of the persecution by authorities and hiding behind locked doors in John 20v19. There is doubt all round but often projected onto Thomas in John 20v24.

Failed Hopes. Broken dreams. Debilitating fear. Depressing doubt. What does the Resurrected Christ do with these human realities that seem the opposite of faith? Like some magic godmother, will the Resurrected Christ wave a magic wand in answer to the right prayer and make all the pain disappear? No. The Christian Faith cannot take away suffering, oppression and general failure.

However, the presence of the Resurrected Christ in the midst of the confusion, doubt, hopelessness, fear and depression is what is real and authentic.

The Gospels narrate a number of different experiences that the early witnesses went through, but they all adopt a similar pattern. It’s as if there is a liturgy that takes us into the waters of doubt and confusion, through transforming sacraments of community learning together and eating together, into enlightenment and empowerment.

1.           The Experience of doubt and confusion

2.           The Explanation of Scriptures

3.           The Eating together in community.

4.           The Enlightenment

5.           The Exit of Christ as the community, empowered becomes the Christ presence in the doubt of the hurting world, yet to be touched by Resurrected presence.

In Luke 24v13-25, a previous experience recorded of the Resurrected Christ, two walkers share their EXPERIENCES of despair. Christ draws alongside them and EXPLAINS the Scriptures. They invite Christ to EAT with them.  ENLIGHTENMENT is when they recognise Christ in the breaking of bread. Christ EXITS and the two are EMPOWERED as missionaries of the Resurrection.

Now in Luke 24.36-48 the same “liturgy” is repeated. There is the EXPERIENCE of terror thinking they are seeing a ghost. Jesus EXPLAINS the Scriptures and EATS broiled fish. Their minds are opened or ENLIGHTENED. Jesus EXITS and they are EMPOWERED as witnesses to the Resurrection.

The point of the repeated pattern (experience, explanation, eat, enlightenment, exit, empowerment) is that we too can find ourselves in the story of Resurrected faith. That this is a possibility is utterly true. I end with one example of how the pattern I have described unfolds.

Perhaps you have heard of the story of Father James Benson. Born in Leeds England, he came to Australia in 1910 as a brother in the Brotherhood of the Good Shepherd in the Diocese of Bathurst. Later he was ordained as an Anglican Priest serving in the Dioceses of NSW and Canberra-Goulburn. While Rector of Bordalla, his family of four children drowned tragically with their mother, when their car plunged into the Clyde River as they were returning from their holidays.

Obviously devastated by the magnitude of such a tragedy, James then joined the Community of Ascension and returned to mission work. He was the priest in Gona, Papua New Guinea when the Japanese invaded in 1937. His fellow workers suffered brutal deaths. He was presumed dead. James managed to survive three concentration camps and once returned to health he worked for the ABM.

The Resurrection shines through this story. There is a mural of the Resurrection that James painted in the Community of the Ascension Church. The light, wholeness and joy of the mural testifies to his experience of the Resurrected Christ in the midst of Good Friday tragedy.