Mindful and ready to change

 ‘…Prepare the way of the Lord....’ (Matthew 3:3)

Matthew 3:1-12 (Year : Advent 2)

The approach of Christmas is associated with a time of preparation, waiting and renewal. Here, in the northern hemisphere, we are closing in rapidly on the shortest day of the year, circa 21 December. When steering the liturgy of the young Christian communities in the first centuries after Christ, the disciples of Jesus were very much conscious of pagan myths and rituals especially around the times of the winter and summer solstices and spring and autumn equinox.  In the advanced religion of the Jewish people the Festival of Lights, Hanukkah , has a special place in the Northern winter around this time of the year. A festival of lights is also found among other religions including Hinduism and Buddhism. When it is darkest there is a natural human desire to witness some light.  In a striking way, this innate human desire is illustrated in a spectacular way in the construction of Newgrange some 5,000 years ago.

For us, today, Christmas stands at a secular crossroads with many roads leading to and from IKEA, B&Q, Tesco and others leading in other directions among which are counted (if we are fortunate or not) office parties, drinks, meeting up, trip back to Ireland or somewhere else, Mass once a year with the grandparents, family get-together, walks by the sea or mountains, the sales on ‘Boxing Day’ (it is still called St Stephen’s Day in Ireland), back to work, January bills etc. This time of year brings many memories to people – mostly happy and wonderful but sometimes not since a place at table is vacant or some other reminder of less than happy things in the past associated, somehow, with Christmas time.  Whatever representation Christmas presents to us we do well, I suggest, to take a trip into those dark places within us as we tread gently there with candle in one hand and an anam-chara in the other. We may stop our searching and striving for a while each day and stay there in that silent and not so bright place. Waiting and ready to receive in God’s own time and way.

This Sunday’s passage from the Gospel of Matthew might provide a short piece of text to stop and think about in that not so bright place. It speaks to us of someone who stood apart from the crowd and was not afraid to speak truth to power. Moreover, it speaks of someone who is a sign of contradiction. John the Baptist, the cousin of Jesus, points to a new way of life and a new order of things which is already breaking in our world. He was no ordinary person. Clothed in ‘camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist’ and with ‘locusts and wild honey’ as his food we are picturing, here, not some finely clothed priest in the Temple or some man about society and the synagogue.  Here was someone who was a reproach to the social norms of the time. Yet, people came to him. There was something about his message and its impact. However, the cousin of Jesus plays something of a very backseat role in the gospel. Just as Jesus emerges on the scene, the Baptist fades away. Yet, his role and ministry is hugely important – like of that of Mary the mother of Jesus.  John the Baptist helped made the gospel welcome just as (though in a completely different way) Mary made the Gospel possible through a free given yes (she could have said no in which case a Plan B would have to apply as God was/is/will save as many as possible).

What do we know about John? He was a rugged, outspoken and uncompromising sort. He spoke truth to power and for this he lost his head (literally). We are familiar with the phrase ‘He/she is no shrinking violet’.  Well, John, or Yochanan (God who is gracious) as he would have been referred to, was no shaking reed in the wind as his cousin Jesus, or  Yeshua (the one who rescues) put it (Matthew 11:7).  People came to him and listened to him because he stood out from the religious and political authorities of his day. There was something about John that marked him out. For his troubles he met a violent end after a spell in prison (Matthew 14:3-5). We are told that the executioner, Herod, ‘feared the crowd, because they regarded him as a prophet’. And so he was. But, that did not stop, ultimately, Herod and his consort taking his life away. Jesus had no illusions about what lay ahead of him. I strongly suspect that Mary had a pretty good and intuitive sense too (how much did Jesus tell Mary during those last three years of his life?).  As for the apostles – God help us!

When the Pharisees and Sadducees presented themselves for baptism, John in characteristic mode was not operating from the manual ‘How to win friends and influence people’ in declaring:

‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, “We have Abraham as our ancestor”; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

This declaration is a direct assault on a religion of show, power and entitlement. Its purveyors miss the key point of real religion which is to bear good fruit born of a loving relationship with a God who is no more or no less than love. This is the meaning of true repentance – a decisive turning away from what is wrong and harmful and a turning towards what is good and wholesome.  Such a dramatic change of mentality and heart may be gradual or sudden as the case may be.  For most of us conversion – in the true sense of the term – is a slow, painful, two steps forward, one back (or one forward and two back at times) process.  To be saved is to know that peace and freedom that comes from a life well spent. It is the total of our actions and abandonments to God’s providence. In this sense, we live our baptism throughout our lives and not just at one special moment of decision (although this may also feature in the disciple’s journey).  The Baptism of John was an important sign and challenge for the people of his time. The Baptism of Jesus would not be revealed until after his death when he poured his Holy Spirit on the those who believed in him. This latter baptism is witnessed today by countless millions starting with a once-off sacramental event but not stopping there because our baptism in the Holy Spirit and in the fire of God’s love is never finished until we have run life’s course.

This advent is a time to be refreshed and to experience, again, the fruits of our own baptism. Advent is about waiting. But, it is also about openness to change. Change is possible no matter who we are and where we are at.

Mindful and ready (stop and notice)

 ‘…Therefore you also must be ready; for the Son of man is coming at an hour you do not expect.,....’ (Matthew 24:44)

                                                        Pic Seán Bear Hernon

Matthew 24:37-44 (Year : Advent 1)

This Sunday marks the beginning of a new ‘Church year’. The first Sunday of Advent triggers a new cycle of Sunday Gospel Readings and since this ‘year’ of 2016/17 is Year A we are back to the gospel of Matthew. As far as Sunday readings go, it is a case of bye bye Luke until 2018/2019 – God willing health and life for each of us.

Advent – as the word indicates – focusses on the coming of the Saviour. He is here already but, at the same time, is yet to come. Many of us look forward to a secular break at Christmas time when we take time off from work, catch up and meet up and, perhaps, indulge the senses a little.  Spiritually, the notion of a time of special preparation including prayerfulness, self-denial, repentance and exercise of compassion are not exactly to the fore in the TV adverts, toy shows, glitzy lighting and bulk shopping.  But, there is an opportunity to stop and notice life.

• To stop and notice our breathing.
• To stop and notice our bodies.
• To stop and notice our thinking.
• To stop and notice our feelings.
• To stop and notice nature all round us.
• To stop and notice the person next to me in this moment of time.
• To stop and notice something afar or not seen but in the mind’s eye and heart’s ear.

A sense of waiting and anticipation – sometimes joyful and hopeful but sometimes not is associated with the true meaning and purpose of Advent time.

Perhaps we need to take extra ‘time out’ this season and relish simpler fare of life?  For some reason I am reminded of the poem, ‘Advent’, by Patrick Kavanagh (was it on my Intermediate or Leaving Certificate course? – I can’t remember):

We have tested and tasted too much, lover –  Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder. But here in the Advent-darkened room Where the dry black bread and the sugarless tea Of penance will charm back the luxury Of a child’s soul, we’ll return to Doom The knowledge we stole but could not use

‘We have tested and tasted too much’. Indeed.

Over a year ago, I participated in a retreat given by a kind, gentle, witty, compassionate and ‘grounded’ person more than familiar with palliative care and ageing.  At one point in the discourse – following some banter and chat – participants were asked if:

• They had a made a will
• They had planned their own funeral service
• Discussed ‘end of life’ treatments and arrangements if one were to lose full capacity.

Charming!

The question of ‘are we ready?’ is central to this passage in the Gospel of Matthew just as it is in the Gospels of Luke who seems to be following the same source used by Matthew. 

The end-event in the life and ministry of Jesus is very much at hand in the carefully ordered and scripted Gospel of Matthew. A great trial awaits – the final one in the life of Jesus and He will be revealed as the Messiah – the one who was to come – to the Jewish people who had a special place in the audiences of Matthew.

The year 2016 was one of unforeseen (at least to some extent) shocks in the global politik. None of us thought too much, this time last year, about what would really lie ahead in 2016. But of three things we can be certain:

• We are, all, one year older than we were on 27^th November 2015;
• Our particular total unknown life span is, today, less by 12 months (a logical deduction from the first thesis!); and
• Death preceded by a sudden or protracted illness is 100% certain (there aren’t that many things, in life, that can be said to be ‘certain’!).

Yet again, charming!

In his letter to the Christians at Rome Paul provides timely advice relevant especially in the run-up to Christmas each year (Romans 13:11-13):

Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armour of light; let us live honourably as in the day, not in revelling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarrelling and jealousy.  Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.

The questions of when and how are beyond our knowing. The question of why must be approached through a humble mind and open heart. The question of what might lie beyond the horizons of this small world and life is for God alone to show us in his time and in his way.

They concern our worries – our very real worries about:

• Getting old (eventually)
• Facing ill-health of mind or body now or in the future
• Having lost or possibly losing income or employment in the future (it happens to people who retire for example)
• Relationships past, present or future where wounds may run deep
• Facing some external dangers to body, mind or person (not untypical for many millions of people across the globe).

And, the list is not exhaustive ....

We find distraction in sundry indulgences from substance attachment to constant affirmation seeking on social media to projects that demand our all and we wonder why we are still missing something. But, in the midst of all this clamour and un-ease (or should we say dis-ease) we are reminded of what Jesus said according to Luke 21:28:

When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.

When faced with uncertainty and, perhaps, a load of concerns and worries we do well to:

• Stay calmly grounded in the here and now
• Remain steadfast in love because this is the only thing that matters
• Keep moving forward towards some goal or destination no matter how dim it seems.

The best way to prepare for death is to live life to the full now and to live it well so that we leave a good memory and example and find our well-being in this thought. To conclude with an other line from W.B. Yeats:

I have spread my dreams under your feet

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. 

And closing with that final part of Kavanagh’s poem:

O after Christmas we’ll have no need to go searching
For the difference that sets an old phrase burning –
We’ll hear it in the whispered argument of a churning
Or in the streets where the village boys are lurching.
And we’ll hear it among decent men too
Who barrow dung in gardens under trees,
Wherever life pours ordinary plenty.
Won’t we be rich, my love and I, and
God we shall not ask for reason’s payment,
The why of heart-breaking strangeness in dreeping hedges
Nor analyse God’s breath in common statement.
We have thrown into the dust-bin the clay-minted wages
Of pleasure, knowledge and the conscious hour –
And Christ comes with a January flower.

Hey, January is only 5 weeks away – God willing! But, let’s get through December first.

A royal republicanism

 ‘…Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom....’ (Luke 23:42)

Luke 23:35-43 (Year C: Christ the King)

One upon a time there were lots of kings in Ireland and across the known world (known, that is, to the cultures and institutions of the ‘West’).  Today, a number remains largely in ceremonial and figurative roles as custodians of national identity and constitutional stability ‘just in case’.  It is hard to think in royal terms or use royal language in 21^st Century Europe. Certainly, in France, the trappings of royalty have long been thrown off though a very small band of eccentrics hanker for a restoration.  British royalty is a different matters and excites a diversity of emotions (largely positive). In southern Ireland the term ‘Royal’ still lingers as a historical addition to the title of a few venerable institutions. Prejudice notwithstanding folk, there, sneak in a read or peek at ‘Royal news’ when they think others are not looking. 

   

Transposed to religious imagery and terminology the idea of Kings and Queens sits uneasily with popular sentiment in many political tendencies nowadays from liberal to socialist to particular forms of nationalism. Even in terms of private religious devotion the image of the crowned suffering servant on the cross outweighs by far the image of a High King sitting and judging in the heavenly courts. Even still, we recite the Our Father daily without thinking too much about the implications of the phrase ‘Thy Kingdom come’.  If God has a Kingdom then God is a King and if Jesus is God then Jesus is, also, a heavenly King just as he affirms it in this passage from Luke as well as in many other places in the Gospel accounts.

The reality is that Jesus’s kingdom is nothing like ‘earthly’ kingdoms. It took a long time for the first disciples and apostles to figure this out and, it could be said, some disciples today struggle with the notion in the sense that they seem to think that latter-day accommodations to popular democracy and universal suffrage are somehow inconsistent with the reality that Jesus Christ is King in all and over all. Another way of approaching this ‘kingly power’, to borrow one of the English translations (for example the RSVCE take on Luke 23:42 in the English language), is to acknowledge that having been born, and having grown up in relative obscurity for about 30 years, and having ministered for 3 years through preaching and healing and then having faced torture and slow death to be followed by resurrection we are faced with a new kingly reality. This reality is the deliberate, chosen and completely unworldly rejection of normal, ‘this worldly’ kingly power. It was not for lack of kingship or power that Jesus allowed himself be raised on the wood of the cross.

Line by line

“The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, ‘He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.’” (verse 35)

The irony of all this is that Jesus was and is God’s Messiah, the Chosen.

“The soldiers also came up and mocked him. They offered him wine vinegar and said, ‘If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.’” (verses 36-37)

The irony of this is that Jesus had come to save everyone else including those who ‘came up and mocked him’.

“There was a written notice above him, which read: this is the king of the Jews.” (verse 38)

The irony, here, is that Jesus is King not only of the Jews but everyone who comes to him in trust.  Hidden from the eyes of those who scorned him is the scandalous and un-royal reality of crucified love.

“One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: ‘Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’ But the other criminal rebuked him. ‘Don’t you fear God,’ he said, ‘since you are under the same sentence?” (verse 39-40)

Two criminals and one would-be criminal. Thee in all.  One criminal gets it; the other doesn’t.   The reality is that all three were under sentence but only one volunteered to undergo sentence for the other two.  The two criminals typify the range of responses to grace. We note that, whereas in Matthew and Mark, the criminals were described as thieves and both mocked him, in Luke, there was a moment of grace and exception. Luke is big on mercy and his gospel is written with this very much to the for his audience then and today.

“We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.’” (verse 42)

The Law of punishment was cruel and undiscriminating. How ironic that these criminals, who according to Matthew and Mark were robbers, face crucifixion but the occupying army, hangers-on and extortionate tax collectors who were ‘making the rent’ were not called to account.

“Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’” (verse 42)

One of the robbers robbed heaven that day. An act of deep faith transformed his relationship.  He had not complied with the 600 laws plus. We may assume that he had not prayed and fasted as custom dictated. He had not engaged in prescribed penitential in a this-wordly purgatory set aside for people who, though forgiven, had to undergo a retribution of further suffering. No, he stole heaven through grace. True, he continued to suffer greatly but he knew salvation that very day.

“Jesus answered him, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.’” (verse 43)

Just imagine meeting Jesus some day and being told this.

In answer to the request of the ‘good thief’ (‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom’ verse 42) Jesus answered him: ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.’ (verse 43). The promise to be with Jesus is to sit with him in heaven. In a manner of speaking we could claim that Jesus promises us a share in royalty. In other words, we become kings and queens with Jesus. Now that is a radical claim and one that utterly undermines ‘earthly’ royalty to a point of asserting a ‘republic’ in which the ‘subjects’ of the King are, at the same time, sharers in the kingdom of peace, joy and love.  Does this sound a tad too unorthodox? Not really. Consider the letter of Saint Peter – the ‘first bishop of Rome’ as many would hold (1 Peter 2:9):

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.

There is, according to custom and long tradition, the ministerial priesthood in which men and women are called to serve at the altar. Then there is the ‘royal priesthood’ of all the faithful that belong to God or ‘a people for his possession’ as one translation puts it.  Since we, all of us, lay people, religious, deacons, priests and bishops fully belong to the ‘royal priesthood’ there is no hierarchy of grace or dignity.

Republican, other-worldly royalism rule is one based on real love. It is a reign of profound gentleness, utter kindness and a loving and free invitation. In other words, it is a type of reigning with which we are very unfamiliar.  However, there is a chance that we can find the spark within us where the Risen Jesus is mysteriously present ever and always.  The first in-breaking of the Kingdom starts with its out-breaking in my heart and your heart and someone else’s heart. Where two or three are sincerely gathered in his name and united in his love there is the Kingdom right now, in our midst.

We have one sure goal - through all the twists and turns of life and through the experiences of earthly kingdoms that oppress not just in palaces but, sometimes, in places of gathering, of worship and at family tables. That light, that truth and that goodness is for each a possibility of witness and life fulfilment. Everyone without exception has some light, some spark of truth and some unique gift to make. Let’s not put obstacles in the way of others so that, truly, at the end of each person’s life they can say:

For this I was born and for this I came into the world.

Regardless of sex, age and religion is everyone’s unique talent acknowledged, affirmed and put to good? This is the call of radical discipleship which, alone, is consistent with the heavenly republic of equals.

A troubling question

Holocaust survivor, Elie Wiesel, who died earlier this year provokes a troubling question about God in general and Jesus in particular though he never mentions the latter:

Then came the march past the victims. The two men were no longer alive. Their tongues were hanging out, swollen and bluish. But the third rope was still moving: the child, too light, was still breathing...And so he remained for more than half an hour, lingering between life and death, writhing before our eyes.  And we were forced to look at him at close range. He was still alive when I passed him. His tongue was still red, his eyes not yet extinguished. Behind me, I heard the same man asking: "For God's sake, where is God?" And from within me, I heard a voice answer: "Where He is? This is where--hanging here from this gallows..."
― Elie Wiesel, Night

A time of testing and waiting

‘…Stand firm, and you will win life.....’ (Luke 21:19)

                                                                   'Opening of the Sixth Seal' by Francis Danby (1793-1861) - National Gallery of Ireland

Luke 21:5-19 (Year C: Advent-2)

November is one of those months – with dark evenings, foggy mornings and the arrival of frost, in between the secular feasts of Halloween and Yule-Shopping Tide.  And then there is the political and economic fall-out from the US general elections not to mention closer to home the endless nightmare for the inhabitants of the Middle East and those battling sea, camps and lost children in fortress Europe. The 'End Things' come to mind as the painting of the 'Opening of the Sixth Seal' in the National Gallery in Dublin shown above suggests.

Christians learned, at an early stage, to link November with the ‘end things’. It is no accident that All Saints is marked on the 1^st November (or the 6^th in the case of All Saints of Ireland in some traditions).  The Sunday Gospel readings are full of the ‘end things’ like death, wars, destruction, trial, tribulation, judgment and the hint of a new Kingdom breaking in or breaking out from within.  For those who still see Christmas as primarily the second most important feast in the annual Christian calendar (the first being Easter) marking, as it does the birth of our saviour, November is a time to consider and get ready for the approaching winter (or Spring if you live in the southern hemisphere).  In some cultures ideas of ‘thanksgiving’ or ‘Harvest thanksgiving’ (a relatively late addition to custom) or, indeed Remembrance Sunday to remember those who gave their lives in recent wars (an occasion for commemoration in both parts of Ireland among some traditions). Even the very symbols of remembrance be it a poppy or a lily assumes cultural and political significance because the way communities remember and look forward is connected to who they see themselves as.  We remember from a narrative of history, belonging and aspiration whether we consciously know it or not.

The scene is set in this Sunday’s reading from the 21^st chapter of the Gospel of Luke by the dire circumstances in which the community for whom and from whom Luke wrote. Luke was writing for a community under fire, persecuted, harassed and placed in the most horrendous of circumstances by virtue of war, famine and disease.  Moreover, scholars attest that the gospel of Luke was written some 10-15 years after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem in 70 A.D.   The siege and destruction of Jerusalem was a major traumatic event for the Jewish people in which huge numbers died and the remainder was scattered across the Mediterranean world.  How ironic that 2,000 years later the followers of Jesus and their sisters of brothers in the surrounding areas face the very same challenges?  Further to the North West a fractious community of 500 million does not know how to cope with a trickle (because that is what it is relative to total population) of desperate refugees. Further to the West a large and relatively prosperous country is deeply divided by fear, prejudice and hatred.

We live in a troubled world no matter which corner of it we inhabit. Just as Luke, Paul and Peter were associated with warnings and encouragement to the young and scattered Christian community in the first century so, today, we can take courage and strength from the first letter of Peter (1 Peter 4:12-14):

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you.

Does this convey ideas of gloom and foreboding?  Not at all! Later in this chapter Luke will cite Jesus as saying (21:28):

When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.

Line by line

Worshiping God and not buildings or persons:

Some of his disciples were remarking about how the temple was adorned with beautiful stones and with gifts dedicated to God. But Jesus said, ‘As for what you see here, the time will come when not one stone will be left on another; every one of them will be thrown down.’(v. 5-6)

Christians can be fond of their little treasures – cathedrals, country churches and places of pilgrimage. This is only human. Be it forbidden that a sacred memorial or pew be moved from where it has been located since 1869 in memory of the blessed and good. We do well to cherish, preserve and respect these outward and visible signs of goodness, wisdom and example.  Indeed, the sheer beauty and artistic value of places of worship down the ages is an important part of the ‘scene’ in which we gather today (or as it often happens ‘visit’ as tourists).  And, moreover, the use of icons, crosses, statues, fonts, altars, candles etc. have their place depending on local custom and order (not to mention theology). 

However, we need to be careful not to confuse worship of God with worship of buildings (or indeed our ancestors). Buildings don’t last forever (but may for a good many thousands of years if well looked after and well designed and constructed in the first place). Neither do their inhabitants on this side of death and resurrection. Perhaps we need to create more ‘empty spaces’ and ‘times of silence’ in our places and times of coming together as a listening, singing, serving and worshiping community?

‘Teacher,’ they asked, ‘when will these things happen? And what will be the sign that they are about to take place?’ (v. 7)

Recently the Prime Minister of one country speculated on when the Prime Minister of another country would ‘trigger Article 50 of the European Treaty’. The print, broadcast and social media were buzzing for all of 6 hours following this until some other matter moved to top trending.  Ever and always we like to know seasons and times in advance. Certainty, predictability and measurability give a sense of security.  However, that’s not the way the world works and it is not the way God works.  There is no ‘sign’ that something major will happen. Rather, the ‘signs’ are the seeds of possibility latent in all situations, relationships and structures.  It is after something happens that we say ‘Yes there were signs that was going to happen and I can see it now’. But, the truth is that we ‘see’ it now because it has happened and we have joined up the dots backwards.  Another outcome might have emerged.

He replied: ‘Watch out that you are not deceived. For many will come in my name, claiming, “I am he,” and, “The time is near.” Do not follow them. When you hear of wars and uprisings, do not be frightened. These things must happen first, but the end will not come right away.’ (v. 8-9)

The seductions of a certain dogma and a pseudo-scientific mind-set are there.  Many a rogue and a demagogue using religion or politics has mislead others. We, too, can be misled if we allow others to do our thinking for us and, thereby, capture our minds and hearts.

Then he said to them: ‘Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven. (v. 10-11)

Not a lot has changed in two thousand years except that news about these things travels faster.

‘But before all this, they will seize you and persecute you. They will hand you over to synagogues and put you in prison, and you will be brought before kings and governors, and all on account of my name. And so you will bear testimony to me. But make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves. For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers and sisters, relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death. Everyone will hate you because of me. But not a hair of your head will perish. (v. 12-18)

Anyone – anyone – who decides to follow Jesus without compromise will face opposition, disdain and misrepresentation. And if we don’t follow Jesus without compromise we will face opposition, disdain and misrepresentation.  Take your pick!

In the face of adversity and opposition we might worry about what to say or how to respond. This is not important. It is enough that we stay in an attitude of love towards each one. This is not the same as agreement with those who are hostile.  Rather, by staying in peace and compassion we will find a strength and wisdom deep from within us. This enables us to walk away sure in the knowledge that we have done what we can and our peace is intact. Like Stephen in Acts 6:10 who kept courage in the face of fierce opposition:

But they could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he spoke.

The Holy Spirit – the Spirit of Jesus and the Father – is never far from us in times of intense stress when we seem to be lost for the right words and gestures. It is precisely when we feel weakest and most helpless that the Holy Spirit moves powerfully within us.

Stand firm, and you will win life. (v.19)

A pithy and powerful phrase. Standing firm and enduring in patience and compassion will be our way forward and this is how we ‘win’ life.

Half a century ago when I was learning by heart from the ‘Green Catechism’ in preparation for first holy communion I recited, as did other Irish children, the response to the question “What are the last four things?”:

1. Death
2. Judgment
3. Heaven
4. Hell

And it was in that order!

It so happened, around that time, that 116 children and 28 adults perished in the Aberfan disaster in Wales. I also clearly recall, around that time, reading in the Evening Press (or was it the Herald depending on which side of the civil war your parents associated with) that ‘Dublin is doomed’ across page 1 as some quack claimed that he had seen a vision in which Dublin would be ‘punished’ for its ungodly behaviour.  On the extreme fringes of Christian faith – as with any other faith or way of life – there are those who take core truths and distort them. In this case, God is portrayed as a vengeful Power who knows how to punish people who go astray. And, the Literalists, the Biblicists and Traditionalists know how to locate just the right phrase or just the right paragraph or citation from the Bible or from the Catechism or the Articles or the Confession, etc., to prove what they want to claim and to defend with claimed certainty their own insecurity of faith and relationship to a loving God.

Now, death is certain and so also a judgment in which we will be held to account for the way we have lived our lives.  In the end what matters is Love. This is and this will be the great test. And we chose our own fate to the extent that we have the freedom to love or not to love and we are children of a loving God who has loved us in the first place.

In a time of testing and waiting how do we behave and think?  From the beginning Christians stay rooted in

• faith,
• hope
• love.

These three will see us through and there will be a dawn because these present trials too shall pass.

A way of living and believing

 ‘…He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive....’ (Luke 20:38)

Luke 20:27-38 (Year C: Advent-3)

In this reading Jesus is put on the spot by a group called the Sadducees. These were a troublesome lot but, in a way, were quite 21^st century in thinking. According to that other Book thought to be written by Luke, The Acts of the Apostles (23:6-8), the Sadducees were those who believed that ‘there is no resurrection, and that there are neither angels nor spirits’. Very Dawkinsion! And if the truth be admitted these assumptions are very much lodged in the sub-conscious for modern-day believers and, also, for many since at least the time of the Enlightenment in Europe. 

Dawkins notwithstanding, the Sadducees constituted a particular brand of 1^st century religious fundamentalism.  They took their name from the priest Zadok (2 Samuel 8:17). For them, only the revelation contained in the writings of Moses were acceptable. These – by tradition – were believed to constitute the following Books: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. All else after Moses was not acceptable. The notion of rising from the dead is a late development in Jewish thinking and belief as reflected in the late prophetic books of Daniel.  Does any of this sound remotely familiar to Christians in the 21^st century?

But, to counter the Sadducees there was another faction (isn’t it always so in the beginning, now and ever more?). The other faction were the Pharisees who believed and practiced according to the strictest code and blueprint. We see Pharisees and Sadducees all round us and we may be among them to some extent and at some times of our journey.  After all, like the Sadducees and Pharisees, we are only human.

The Pharisees (who already received very bad press in the gospels) and the Sadducees had at least one thing in common: they liked to ask plenty of questions to catch out Jesus. Let’s say they liked to complicate religion and, with it, life. And so do many of us – at times.

Posing questions that make no sense

Only the Sadducee mind-set could think up such a hypothetical and convoluted question as the one about the serial wife who married 7 brothers one after another. (We may note that the trick question posed is clearly based on the assumption that Jesus sided with the Pharisees on this matter of life after death and resurrection). Whose wife was she in the resurrection (which the inquirers didn’t believe in anyway)? The context was set by Deuteronomy 25:5 concerning ‘Levirate’ marriages (yet another example of how literalist and context-free interpretations of the scriptures is unhelpful).  A smart reply might have been ‘none of them’ (heaven is for getting away from all of that!) or, alternatively, all seven of them (heaven being a very big mansion), or alternatively the kindest of the seven (possibly not a bad answer!). But, Jesus doesn’t fall for the Sadducee trap. Neither does he waste time on the more obscure questions of philosophy and metaphysics. He gives an answer to a different question that the questioners had not even wrestled with. The evangelist, Matthew, gives an important clue to what is going on here (Matthew 22:29).

Jesus answered them, ‘You are wrong, because you know neither the scriptures nor the power of God.

The central message of Jesus throughout the gospels including this rather strange and puzzling story is that:

‘He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive.’

Being fully alive today, now, here is what matters for there is only One God and to that God we are, all, alive no matter where we are, whom we are with, who we are and what we are doing.

A pledge of hope

But, our faith is more than a presence of love in our lives today. It is, also, a pledge of hope in the midst of weakness and questioning.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote on the 16^th July 1944 from his prison in Tegal near Berlin:

This is the decisive difference between Christianity and all religions.  Man's religiosity makes him look in his distress to the power of God in the world; he uses God as a Deus ex machina.  The Bible, however, directs him to the powerlessness and suffering of God; only a suffering God can help.  To this extent we may say that the process we have described by which the world came of age was an abandonment of a false conception of God, and a clearing of the decks for the God of the Bible, who conquers power and space in the world by his weakness.  This must be the starting point for our ‘worldly’ interpretation.

Resurrection is the sine qua non of Christian belief and practice. Without it we may resign ourselves to benevolent philanthropy and wisdom without hope of the beyond and, at the same time, the here and now breaking in of the Kingdom of God.

Perhaps the metaphor we need to work with nowadays is one that tells a story about a seed (as outlined in the first letter to the Corinthians). The seed dies (buried in the ground) but transforms into new life. There is a continuity and what was perishable in some mysterious way ‘lives on’ except in an entirely way.  It takes imagination and a leap in faith.  The intellectual underpinning is informed by a critical examination of the evidence – or the lack of it – combined with  an attitude of ‘not knowing’ leading to trust. We hear the word, we do not know how, we believe.

When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. But God gives it a body as he has determined, and to each kind of seed he gives its own body.1 Cor 15:37-38

Our faith is 2,000 years old but not our thinking….

After all disputation, after all our striving, after all our pain and suffering –

‘if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith’ (1 Cor 15:14)

When we say in the Creed: “We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.” are we not reaffirming our hope, our intuition, our desire 

not because we have proven anything, 

not because the ‘evidence’ springs from learned experiments or deliberations, 

not because intellectual assent is the only game in town but, rather, 

because Someone has touched our lives and that made all the difference.  

Postscript

The great scholar and disciple, William Barclay, once wrote about this passage:

It may well be that we find this an arid passage. It deals with burning questions of the time by means of arguments which a Rabbi would find completely convincing but which are not convincing to the modern mind. But out of this very aridity there emerges a great truth for anyone who teaches or who wishes to commend Christianity to his fellows. Jesus used arguments that the people he was arguing with could understand. He talked to them in their own language; he met them on their own ground; and that is precisely why the common people heard him gladly. [Online source here]