Tuesday, 19 December 2017

Surprised by joy

“…for your prayer has been heard” (Luke 1:13)


Luke 1:1-20 (Year B: Christmas Day 25th December 2017)

Surprised by joy: this is a saying that aptly fits the experience of millions of children this morning. I have clear memories of that both when I was a child and when my own children were of a certain age. A messy, cold living room at 4a.m. in the morning with wrapping, batteries and instruction sheets scattered in all directions even if Santa hadn’t consumed that glass of milk or taken away this carrot for Rudolf.

Surprised by Joy is also the title of a book written by Ulster Irishman, Clive Lewis Staples. He may have taken the expression from a poem by William Wordsworth when the poet forgot about the death of his daughter for a moment:
Surprised by joy — impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport — Oh! with whom
But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind —
But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss? — That thought's return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
Ultimately, as we look back on life so far we can say ‘one for sorrow; two for joy’. It is up to us to figure out and reframe our experiences according to this ratio. That one would have let oneself be happier is one of the five top regrets of the dying.   The message of Christmas is that tragedy does not define us. Rather, the news is good. This is a different kind of news to the kind enunciated by the Roman Emperor: it is real good news to the poorest and the least privileged of people – shepherds living a precarious life and earning a precarious living.  It is also good news for those temporarily imprisoned by loss, isolation or loneliness.  A saviour has come into our broken and sick world and we do not surrender to despair. Hope is alive and we will be surprised not just by any old sort of joy but ‘a great joy’. Not just charan (joy in ancient Greek) but mega joy – Megalēn joy.

Tuesday, 7 November 2017

We know neither the day nor the hour

“…Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” (Matt 25:13)


Matthew 25:1-13 (Year A: Third Sunday before Advent 12th November 2017)

Life, itself, is not complicated. We complicate it for ourselves and others. 
In the Buddhist religion, which has much overlap with the Christian religion, one is encouraged by two words: mindfulness and practice.  These lie at the core of Jewish-Christian-Islamic life: mindfulness of the great love of God who is ever present and, at the same time, the practice of justice/love/mercy. The two go hand in hand. The genuine quality of our mindfulness is tested by our practice. Our praxis is grounded in mindfulness. Being ready and prepared is about living out of the centre of our lives:
Grounded in the present moment in the here,
Relaxed in this moment,
Attentive to the Other,
Centered in our own bodies and minds, and
Energised by the current of love that flows through from the ground on which we stand
In one word:   GRACE!

Living gracefully takes habit and practice.  It is never, ever too late to begin all over again here, now, in this moment and in this place. To live well means to live each day and each hour as if could be our last. Someday this will actually turn out to be the case.

One night I stood beside my mother when she was dying and prayed for her and for me as follows: ‘Pray for us now and at the hour of our death’. She was too ill to say those words but she had said them many, many times in the course of her long lifetime. I sensed that her hour had come so those words had special meaning.

The secret to a long and good life and a happy one, too, is to be always ready by being grounded in the here and now enjoying and living fully the present moment of life while being fully attentive to the presence, needs and communication of whoever is next to us.
Perhaps it was my mother who was praying for me that night just as much as I was praying for her.
Two things are required of us: (1) mindfulness of all what is within and around us and (2) compassion.  We cannot exercise the gospel value of compassion without being prayerfully mindful of the other and ourselves. To be prayerfully mindful is to use our God-given abilities to see, hear and sense what is within us and around us. Prayer and times of prayer are not self-contained and separate human activities. Rather, they are a natural part of life’s rhythm just as natural as breathing in and breathing out.

Standing in the way of mindfulness and compassion are those things that derail and distract us from our intention to live life to the full.  One of the great distractors is that screen – big or large – ever beckoning, ever calling and ever demanding. While it can serve many useful purposes including informing, entertaining as well as connecting us with others, it can also disconnect us from reality – that is, from ourselves, others and ultimately from God because God is all in all and, as such, is pure, innocent love.

The ten bridesmaids (or virgins according to some translations) were a mixed bunch. Some were the foreseeing type with everything organised, packed and insured. (You know the type). Others were disorganised, careless and presumptive (‘sure that will never happen’). The point of the story for us, now, is not that one type of character is necessarily always better than another. Those who fuss a lot may be impossible to deal with. In any case, those given to fussing a lot can miss the really important things. The point of the story is that, in life, we have only one chance: one chance, that is, to be happy, to live well and to live properly. We might go astray once or many times but we can come back to the core position and value. However, we only have one chance in this very short and precarious life of ours.  The person standing next to you in the morning train may not be alive tomorrow. Or, it may be your turn however, unlikely or distant an event that may seem right now.  Think back 20 years in your life (if you are, say, 25 years of age or older). Now think forward a possible future 20 years. Be sure that the next potential 20 years will ‘go quicker’ than the last 20. Extend the exercise to 30, 40 years depending on your age.

When our hour comes will we be found ready with lamps lit and baggage disposed of?

Further reading: notes and questions, verse by verse
‘Marriage "ceremonies" in the East were conducted with great pomp and solemnity. The ceremony of marriage was performed commonly in the open air, on the banks of a stream. Both the bridegroom and bride were attended by friends. They were escorted in a palanquin [a large box carried on two horizontal poles to carry one passenger] carried by four or more persons. After the ceremony of marriage succeeded a feast of seven days if the bride was a virgin, or three days if she was a widow. This feast was celebrated in her father's house. At the end of that time the bridegroom conducted the bride with great pomp and splendour to his own home.’
v. 1-4  Being prepared.  Bringing enough oil and expecting the unexpected.
A lamp and oil with it, is faith working by love’ (John Wesley on Matthew 25:3)
We do not know what lies ahead today, tomorrow …. Next year.  What if today was our last day on earth? 
I might travel to the other side of the country by night. Will the petrol stations on the service stops be open on the motorway?
I need to allow myself more than enough time to get there.  You know ‘stuff happens’ like accidents, road closures..
V. 5-6 The delay of the bridegroom and his sudden arrival in the night 
Are we ready for that unexpected hour? The author of Hebrews (10:36-37) writes:
 For you need endurance, so that when you have done the will of God, you may receive what was promised. For yet ‘in a very little while, the one who is coming will come and will not delay.
Will the Lord say to us:
This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” (Luke 12:20)
V. 7-9 The wise and the foolish contrasted
Cf Luke 12:35: ‘Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit’. At all times, but especially in the evening of life, we ought to examine our lives and be prepared for the next phase. Our life’s faith, hope and love will confront us unexpectedly at an hour and a day we were not reckoning on. Then, it may be very late. Even then we must not despair but say in earnest as the good thief did:
‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ (Luke 23:42)
V. 10-12 The outcomes
 ‘Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord”, will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only one who does the will of my Father in heaven’ (Matthew 7:21)
V. 13  So what
 Not knowing when or how must, surely, bid us to be patient and to be very ready for that day.

 “The very Creator of the angels himself is waiting for you (…). The Father is waiting and longing for you” (Serm. Christmas Eve 2:7).

Tuesday, 31 October 2017

A note of caution to some of us

“…All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Matt 23:12)


Matthew 23:1-12 (Year A: Fourth Sunday before Advent 5th November 2017)


As we journey towards the end of another liturgical year with the focus on the Gospel of Matthew since its beginning, we encounter many sayings and warnings from Jesus – not directed against the ordinary mass of people but against the religious elites and authorities of his time. Last Sunday, we heard of the exchange involving Jesus and Pharisees about which was the greatest commandment. Jesus left them in no doubt that the entire edifice of the Law the Prophets hung on two commandments, only, namely, the love of God and the love of our neighbour.  This Sunday, Jesus launches into a full-scale attack on the teachers of the Law and the religious authorities.
If we are listening and hearing at all, it is not possible to read, hear or preach this Gospel passage without a slight flutter of disturbance to the mind. You see, the message is very blunt: those who sit in places of authority (the ‘scribes and the Pharisees’ of Jesus’ time) are not honest and do not live according to the precepts and maxims they preach. Moreover, they are more interested in social position, power, and (though Jesus spells it out in other places) money.

Why is the passage just a little bit disturbing to us today? If we are honest with ourselves, all of us can admit to some affinity with the Pharisees.  Which one of us does not enjoy a little bit of social prestige and notoriety. If it is not the size of our houses or cars (assuming we have same) it is the string of initials after names and the use of terms of reverence in being addressed. Let’s be even more honest, in many of the ways that we practice liturgy and church ritual we like, facilitate and go along with the outer things of hierarchy and status of positioning, clothing, and title. I don’t need to explain what is meant here.

Lest readers immediately jump to a conclusion that we must all cast off hierarchy, ritual and ceremony let me be clear: what matters is the human heart and the relationships among us that spring from the heart. All of these other things are of lesser consequence.  Even still, it would be a great scandal, if, in assuming the office of leadership, preaching or sacramental ministry we were to say one thing and, by our very lives, do another thing. Much harm is done to the whole body of Christ including those distanced from church and from organised religion.

Line by line
Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples…’ (v.1)
The scribes and Pharisees are not listening. Jesus now turns to the crowds and his disciples – those who must listen to and follow their religious leaders. But, Jesus is also speaking to his disciples who, in time, will become leaders in their communities and, thereby, lay the foundations for churches in faraway places.
 ‘The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat’ (v.2)
Moses was, to the Jewish people, the great Law giver. The reluctant leader servant who found himself at the head of a chosen and specially loved people communicated the Law to God’s people. The seat (‘cathedra’ in Latin or ‘cathaoir’ in Irish) symbolises, here, a position of authority and teaching authority at that. This is why the Bishop’s Throne or seat is so prominent in each diocese or, indeed, the chair of the President or Presider at the Sacred Liturgy.  He or she who sits on this seat is tasked with preaching the gospel, maintaining unity of the disciples and leading all under his or her care forward.  A heavy responsibility rests on the one chosen to do this.
‘..therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practise what they teach.’ (v.3)
This seems harsh. However, Jesus – and those who followed him in the Matthean community – spoke from hard experience.  In the history of the Christian church, we cannot deny the many times that those entrusted with authority to teach and ‘govern’ were either not up to the task or failed, abysmally, to match the message with their deeds (and too often their lack of deeds when it really mattered).  There may be a temptation to point to and lay the blame upon those in positions of leadership.  Which one of us can claim that we live fully according to the message we profess and believe in?  Yet, the whole community must be vigilant to hold those in leadership to account as well as to support them in their difficult mission.

We may note that, in this and other passages, Jesus is not asking his disciples to repudiate the teaching of the scribes but, rather, to discern the essential truth contained within their message and so badly attested by their failure to match words with deeds. In the final analysis, we must obey our informed consciences and God and not men or women even if their teaching is for the most part true (Acts 5:27-32).
‘They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them.’ (v. 4)
Here is the rub. Even if the teachers of the Law and the Scribes and the Pharisees of Jesus’ time and our time were to be completely correct in their interpretation and application of the Law, they would have still failed were it a case of laying burdens on others while unwilling to lift a finger to move them. Perhaps, this matter has been most evident of late in regards to the intimate details of personal relationships and received teachings on sexuality. For sure, we must be faithful to God’s plan and will for our lives and we must be faithful to the teaching and tradition of the Gospel. But, do we know God’s plan in each and every situation? Do we know as much as God knows about this relationship and that case?  Do we willingly or otherwise add to the trauma of those who have undergone breakdown in the past and now find themselves in new relationships?  Do we preach a message of do’s and don’ts without lifting a finger to address the painful and scandalous circumstances in which people find themselves as a result of abuse, oppression or lack of rights?
The caution against tying up heavy burdens on others is instanced in the very difficult and sensitive area of new life and what is sometimes referred to as ‘crisis pregnancies’.  People of good will and compassion are very right to acknowledge, value and defend innocent life before birth.  To do and think otherwise is unthinkable for compassionate beings. Yet, in defending life – all life – are there some who add to the burden by judging and even criminalising those whose circumstances some of us would never imagine or bear?  Do we really know what it is like to be in a situation of despair and darkness?  Do we strive with all our beings to transform social conditions that no woman or girl feels they have no other option except that which we find unthinkable?
They do all their deeds to be seen by others; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long.’ (v. 5)
Oh yes, we love dressing up and wearing strange hats and long medieval gowns. Whether in the rituals of academia and graduation ceremonies or in the hallowed halls of the legal profession and the courts or in the cathedrals, churches and religious houses of the Christian church. Now, there is nothing very wrong with dressing up or, indeed, in the use of titles such as your honour, my Lord, your Excellency, Reverend, Doctor, Professor, Father, etc. However, we need to put first things first – decency, common sense, kindness, justice and compassion. Often, power, learning and social privilege get in the way so that the dressing up bit and the conferring of grand titles is worse than silly or mildly harmless practices for middle-aged men who like a bit of colour and fame in the limelight.
‘They love to have the place of honour at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues’ (v. 6)
O yes they did and yes we do. Let’s be honest – really honest – one likes the limelight and the honour whether at the top wedding table or in the top pews or in the sanctuary or chancel. ‘For you love to have the seat of honour in the synagogues … ‘ (Luke 11:43). A respected Roman Catholic scholar, John McKenzie, S.J., comments on this verse:
These are ordinary marks of human vanity, and the protocol of precedence in modern times is as rigorous as anything found in Pharisaism.
In other words, we should be careful about throwing stones at Pharisees from within our modern church glasshouses!
‘and to be greeted with respect in the market-places, and to have people call them rabbi. But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students.   And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father—the one in heaven. Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah.  (v. 7—10)
If we were to take the Bible literally all the time an in all verses these lines would throw much of contemporary church practice into chaos. One is not suggesting such a radical approach (though one retains a certain sympathy for the ultra-anabaptist cults such as the Amish and Quaker traditions) is required. However, taking the context and overall thrust of new testament scripture verses such as these should caution against excesses of clericalism not to mention silly controversies over very second-order matters. In this regard the more high-end of Christian tradition does not have a monopoly of clericalism and associated second-order controversies. That said, charity, patience, tact and pragmatism is a good policy when it comes to various details of church life, liturgical practice, the lay-out of places of worship and ecclesiastical polity in general.
The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted. (v. 11-12)
In the scriptures, to exalt is a term applied, typically, to God. Occasionally, it is applied to human beings. Jesus warns about those who exalt themselves before God has a chance to exalt them!  In fact, in a pithy saying he says that those who initiate the first move get demoted from their assumed position of greatness while those who wait patiently on God’s wisdom experience an uplifting to a position of responsibility and service (uplifting comes with a high price).
But, here is the rub:
The greatest among you will be your servant. (v. 11)
Servant leadership is the way.

We should be very careful in censoring those who ‘do not bother’ with organised religion or those who are openly hostile to it. Are those of us who profess faith and adherence to the creeds and the received tradition of the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church to which all the Christian baptised belong actually live out the Gospel call? Do we put external and material goals ahead of right relationships and heart-full devotion to God? In other words, are we for real or not?  I am among those who believe – rightly or wrongly – that there is a great hope for our world and our country. Why? Because the younger generations have a refreshing honesty and courage often lacking in those who came before. This is said while acknowledging the huge sacrifices and goodness of most our elders and those of us entering the senior years of life.



Tuesday, 24 October 2017

All

“…with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Matt 22:37)


Matthew 22:34-46 (Year A: Fifth Sunday before Advent 29nd October 2017)

The next time you read the Bible cover to cover you might like to use a yellow marker and mark over the word ‘all’ (assuming you are reading the Bible in English). You will run out of yellow marker. You will be surprised at how often this word ‘All’ crops up from start to finish:
-        In all wisdom
-        With all your heart
-        All the people of Israel
-        That all may be one
-        Christ in all-        All
-        All
-        & All.
John Wesley, one of the founders of the Methodist movement which sprung up from within Anglicanism spoke of four important ‘Alls’:
  • 1. All people need to be saved.
  • 2. All people can be saved.
  • 3. All people can know they are saved.
  • 4. All people can be saved to the uttermost
It can be said that the ultimate goal of history, of our own personal lives and of our communities is pretty straightforward when all is said and done. It is simply that God may be all in all.
But how?

The response by Jesus to some hostile questioning shows all that we need in order to be all (whole or holy):
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ (verse 37)
Oddly enough sometimes we don’t stop and ponder what the meaning of the phrase ‘all your mind’ actually means. It doesn’t mean suspending our God-given human reason to question and deepen our understanding and commitment.  To ‘heart’, ‘soul’ and ‘mind’ could be added ‘body’.  (Mark and Luke refer, in addition, to ‘all your strength’).  In short, we are called to love with all our being – every bit of it.

But to love God – who is all – with all our being means something very concrete, here and now. It means to
Love your neighbour as yourself. (verse 39)
In other words, we can only know if our love for God is sincere and meaningful if it is expressed in love for our ‘neighbour’ in the here and now in this place, in these circumstances, and in this situation. To love is act based on a desire for what is truly good for our neighbour and for ourselves (we realise our own good through loving).  It could actually lead to such heroic deeds as giving up our seat on a bus to someone in particular need (provided that we are not pregnant or infirm). Then it might involve staying faithful to a commitment or an appointment when this dearly costs.  It might even lead ultimately to giving our life. Not such a rare thing in some parts of the world for people of faith.

In responding to the questioner Jesus brings together two foundation commandments from the Old Testament:
‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.’ (Deuteronomy 6:5)
‘…love your neighbour as yourself.’ (Leviticus 19:18)
So, there is nothing new at one level – Jesus is merely quoting Jewish scripture.  At another level, something new is happening. He is bringing two commandments together and directly linking them by means of a ‘new commandment’ which combines both. It is the hallmark of real Christianity which would follow much later as the Jesus movement within Judaism evolved into a gathering (ekklesia) of disciples a growing number of which would be gentiles.

The symbol, power and truth of the Cross is at the centre of Christian loving as revealed in Jesus Christ.  The cross has two beams:
  • a horizontal one that indicates love for one another (the two thieves on each side of Jesus, for example, as well as the onlooking crowd including immediate family).
  • a vertical one that indicates God’s love for us and our love for God.
Now the vertical beam cannot stand without the horizontal one and the horizontal one cannot hold without the support of the vertical one. So it is with one and the same love that has been given to us.
God is loved in and through our neighbour. But, we love our neighbour for himself or herself and not as an instrument to please and love God. That is the way God wants it. After all God who is in all, loves all wants us to love all with our all.

And that’s not all:
All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments. (verse 40)
In one swoop Jesus reduces the 613 commandments of the ‘Old Law’ into two commandments not so much by abolishing them as by rooting then in the essential. His listeners were left speechless.
How we could simplify our lives and our laws and our canon laws and our rules of community if we took to hear the simple truth that underlying ‘all the law’ and the scriptures is the commandment to love God with our all and to do so sincerely by loving the person next to us now.
Very simple. Too simple in fact.

Love is the one thing you cannot overdo. If we risk everything for love we can liberate ourselves from false/dead religion together with 600 regulations and be conquered by that Love which has loved us from all eternity in the first place.

And that’s all for now.

Tuesday, 17 October 2017

Jesus, politics and money

“…Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” (Matt 22:21)


Matthew 22:1-14 (Year A: Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity 22nd October 2017)

Typically, passages from the scriptures and, especially the Gospels, that deal with subjects such as poverty, riches, taxes or politics are ‘spiritualised’ or ‘individualised’ by commentators and preachers in such a manner as to avoid political controversy or misunderstanding for a modern audience.
Let me be clear about this: by ‘spiritualising’, I mean taking a raw story (or parable) and turning it into a moral tale rather like a fable with a good moral lesson or ‘so what’ for the young ones hearing it.  By ‘individualising’ I mean hearing the story as an individual and applying it to my life in my immediate inter-personal environment.  According to the latter, we see ourselves as fellow pilgrims working out our own salvation and faith with others but, ultimately, on our own since we are, each of us, answerable for our lives now and at its end on this earth.  

Preachers and ministers are at pains to point out that Jesus did not get involved in ‘politics’ and ‘this-worldly’ affairs and by implication we might emulate this beyond our everyday, familial and job-related circles in which we live and move. And there are two things, it is said, you should never discuss in polite company: religion and politics.

I’m not altogether sure about any of this. Let me explain.

Zealots up to no good
The context of this Sunday’ reading is yet another conversation between Jesus and some disciples of the Pharisees along with the Herodians (the latter were loyalists to Rome and followers of ‘Herod the Great’ and were as zealous about paying taxes as the Jewish ‘Zealots’ party were about not).
The Herodians and Pharisees were trying to trap Jesus. The latter group tended to sit on the fence on the question of taxes, but, sided in practical terms with the political authorities as religious authorities tend to do for the sake of peace.  They knew where power lay in that backwater of a province on the Eastern fringes of the great Roman Empire.  They also knew the intense resentment and fierce independence of the people with whom Jesus shared his life. Remember that to be a tax collector at that time in that part of the world was to be a local agent of Rome and someone put on the same level as a prostitute. Those hostile to Jesus – the religious authorities of his time – thought they could use a combination of reverse psychology and clever questioning to catch him out on one or both sides of their specially erected question-fence.

Jesus got the better of them not by taking one side of their malevolent question. Rather, he posed a new question.  ‘Whose head is this, and whose title?’, he asked his questioners. He recalibrated the discussion to begin from where we are at. His audience was living under a brutal colonial regime. An uneasy peace prevailed in between violent outbreaks and insurrections (the decisive one following in around 70 A.D.).  Jesus had not come to lead a Jewish revolt against their overlords. Neither, had he come to start a new religion in the sense that what he did and said proclaimed the kingdom of God among the chosen people (the Jews) and beyond to embrace the whole world (including the gentiles). Religion would be recast as a new way to the Father and all had access to this way through Jesus. 

Misrepresentations of Jesus as a political messiah
Jesus and those who came after him were not scholarly commentators. Neither were they preaching a party or ethnic political manifesto.  Claims, in more recent times, that Jesus was a true ‘socialist’ are plain silly. Likewise, attempts to enlist Jesus in a holy war against communism or free masonry under the banner of fascism or colonialism is diabolic. Then again, many have enlisted Jesus in violent purges of heretics from within the Christian fold.

Jesus did not offer a theory or programme of political liberation. However, he did witness to a radically different way of living and behaving – individually and collectively. This was and is revolutionary in the sense that it challenges the premises of everyday business, politics and even – dare we admit it – church life as we frequently encounter it. And we Christians in 21st century need to be political for reasons that, hopefully, I can elaborate on further, below.

At the centre of this Sunday’s story is the question of taxes.  Taxes, as we know only too well, involve a transfer of money from citizens to political authorities. At the time in which the Gospels were seeded, taxes and tax collectors were not at all popular. Tax collectors were seen as corrupt, unjust and rapacious.

Consider some of the taxes people had to pay in 1st century Palestine (the source for this is an online Carmelite liturgical site):
Levies on property (tributum soli).
Levies on persons (tributum capitis). (the levy on the workforce is estimated by some scholars to have been approximately  20% of average income – a figure not dissimilar to low-tax countries such as Ireland or the USA, today).
Golden crown for the Emperor
Salt levy for the Emperor
Levy on buying and selling: (to buy a slave incurred a levy of 2%).
Levy on professional practice: (even prostitutes had to pay this)
Levy on the use of public utilities (e.g. public baths in Rome)
Tolls paid on roads and on the movement of merchandise and usually collected by Publicans.
Forced labour: Everyone could be forced to render some service to the State for five years, without remuneration.
Special subsidy for the armed forces: People were obliged to offer hospitality to soldiers.
Does any of the above sound familiar? Change the detail and terminology a little and we find matters have not changed that much in 2,000 years!
And, of course, the religious authorities needed their cut of income for the times that Jesus lived in:
Levy for the Temple and for Cult:
Shekalim: Tithes (for the upkeep of the priests)First fruits of all land products: (for the upkeep of the cult)
Tithes had a particularly troubled existence until comparatively modern times in Irish history (see Cogadh na ndeachúna)
We get the picture!

That is one side of the matter.

The other side is possibly disturbing for us today.  What we say about Jesus and how we live according to his example and teachings has profound implications for our families, our extended families, our communities, our workplaces, our associations, our local politics, our national politics and our global politics. Should there be any doubt about this we ought to check out, again, the number of times the God of the poor and the God of righteousness on the side of the poor and the marginalised breaks into the Hebrew and Christian Testaments. God is not aloof and carefree on His Throne observing from a distance children going hungry, people being killed and his creation plundered by human beings. For reasons no theologian can satisfactorily explain, God is ‘in the thick of it’ wherever human beings suffer, are oppressed or excluded.  He is ‘in the thick of it’ as a powerfully powerless servant leader uniting himself with us in our hour of need and urging us on to be his eyes, his ears and his hands of compassion. I realise that this sort of talk is discomforting to the more classical notions of a God who does not feel, or suffer or get involved in particular ways in this always messy and often crazy world.

But, that, I suggest is God for us.
We live in a world which is propped up on (1) obscene levels of social and economic inequality, (2) disrespect for human life and rights at all stages in the lifecycle, (3) an utterly cavalier attitude to the natural environment as a means for exploitation, and (4) oppressive regimes that centralise market and state power in ways that exclude women, children, older people, particular ethnic groups, precarious workers, migrants, homosexuals and anyone who is a threat to the power structures of oppression.

We cannot turn our back to those who suffer in such a world.  The gospel does not afford us the luxury of ‘working out our salvation’ by distancing ourselves from the plight of others who cry out and who struggle for liberation. Neither does it afford us the luxury of serving God and our brothers without hearing the cry of the earth which is groaning and aching lest we have not heard it recently in the passing of hurricane Ophelia (to be followed by other names in the coming years).

To set people free and the earth too
The truth is that God has come to set his people free and the earth in which his people live.  We don’t have the option of remaining aloof. Yes, we must render to Caesar what is Caesar’s in the sense that the obligations of citizens must not be confused with the call to religious practice and integrity.  But, there are times when we will need to stand up to Caesar even at a high price such as paid by many down the ages. Religion is not to be privitised.

One practical way in which to live up to our call as citizens of the earthly world and, at the same time, as disciples of Jesus Christ is in the very mundane matter of taxation. When was the last time we heard a homily about tax?!  And how often do churches get a name for its teachings on the sixth commandment (concerning adultery and matters generally to do with sexuality and reproduction)?  And, how often do churches raise fundamental questions about tax evasion (that is, the deliberate and illegal non-payment of taxes whether by individuals or corporations)?  How often do we stop to reflect on the link between the taxes we pay and the essential services provided to others including ourselves? Yes, many forms of taxation need to be reformed and made fairer. Yes, many systems of public administration and service delivery need to be reformed and made more efficient (delivering more and better for the same amount of taxes raised). However, we fail in our duty as citizens and as Christians if we practice deceit by not paying lawful taxes. Had none of us ever known cases where someone does work ‘for cash’ to avoid paying Value Added Tax or income tax, as the case may be, because ‘everyone else is doing it’ or ‘who will know’ or ‘it will make no difference’. Let’s be clear, tax defrauding is the same as fare-evasion on public transport is the same as stealing money from someone’s wallet.

Paying tax is a political and moral matter just as is voting or, in the case of those called to do so, to serve in public office or to engage in legitimate, democratic, peaceful and human rights-respecting political activity.

In our times we need to reflect, again, on what it means to be a disciple of the good news. In fact, it is a very political news because it fundamentally challenges the way we do politics as citizens, voters, workers, businesses, families, and communities. It does not mean that we have to adopt a narrow set of policies or see our political vocation as necessarily belonging to some political party or movement. But, it does mean making a stand, speaking up and acting out even when it is inconvenient and possibly dangerous to do so. And that has implications in Iceland, Ireland, Israel, Iraq and everywhere else.

Wednesday, 11 October 2017

What have we been called to do?

“…For many are called, but few are chosen...’’ (Matt 22:14)


Matthew 22:1-14 (Year A: Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity 15th October 2017)

And the story runs on. Jesus is giving out to the ‘Chief Priests and the Elders of the people’ (Matthew 21:23). Having entered Jerusalem in a dramatic challenge by riding on a donkey and behaving as an other-wordly King, friend and champion of the poor and the lost; He causes havoc in the Temple; curses a fig tree and proceeds to tell a string of disparaging stories or parables that apply to the religious leaders of His time. This was surely not a case of ‘how to win friends and influence people’. 

The mild, gentle and humble Jesus was at large in Jerusalem causing trouble and landing himself in big trouble. All right, you may say, Jesus was the Second Person of the Trinity and was entitled to do all that. We would be missing the point, however, if we thought that the fullness of humanity as well as the fullness of divinity in Jesus Christ did not present itself as a human being fully alive and on fire for truth, justice and the coming of God’s kingdom here and now as well as in the future.
The story of the King and his wedding party offers a crude and even violent image of those invited but who refused and were cut off by the King. We would be entirely mistaking the point to think of this story as a story about a vengeful God who behaves like human kings.  In the course of human history, the ‘Kings’ of this world including dictators and manipulators resorted and resort to the threefold methods of bullying: (1) violence of word or deed; (2) threats; and (3) denial of any wrong-doing on the part of the bully (it is all the bullied’s fault, so it is insinuated by the bully).   Even if this Gospel story of a bully king who insists, threatens, bullies and takes revenge, the passage has resonance for us today. 

The key point is that we have been invited to something wonderful. That wonderful treasure is hidden away from the appearances, forms and outward structures of the community of disciples. At the heart of weekly worship (above all but not exclusively in the Eucharist) and at the heart of daily witness is the Life that Jesus gives us. That Life is our light and our food and our joy in being able to go forward through the deep and dark valleys and bright and spacious uplands of life’s journey. 

We are not alone.

The point of the story is that we are, all of us, invited to partake in something truly magnificent, life-affirming and life-giving. The problem is that we don’t know it because we are too busy with our own puny plans and projects thinking that what is on offer is too remote or unrealistic to be worth the effort. If only we knew and tasted a little of what is on offer. 80% of life is about turning up, quipped the comedian Woodie Allen. Turning up is not enough, however, as one of the wedding guests found out in this story. Coming with the right attitude and receptivity (being ‘appropriately clothed for the occasion’) is an important ingredient of a successful enjoyment of what is on offer. ‘I find such and such a religious rite boring and irrelevant’ is sometimes heard on the lips of young and old. But, if we only took time out to realise that these short weekly earthly excursions to the local wedding feast are a form of aperitif for a Great Party later. And different Tables at the Eucharist, at home and in the workplace are linked.
The question should not be ‘why go to mass every Sunday’ or ‘why should Holy Communion be the principal service every Sunday’. Rather, it should be ‘what a privilege to take a full part in the Mass/Eucharist/Holy Communion/Lord’s Supper. It is not only a sound catholic principle (with a small ‘c’) but it is a sound biblical value consistent with the patterns and habits of the early Christian community who met frequently to break Bread and Word, sing together and share their beliefs, hopes, stories and lives.

I think that, here in Europe, we have much to learn about party-going worship behaviour in some other continents of the world. The party can be so good that you don’t even want to go home too soon! Or, rather, the party doesn’t stop at the door of the place of worship.
For our paschal lamb, Christ, has been sacrificed. Therefore, let us celebrate the festival, not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and evil, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. (1 Corinthians 5:7b-8).
And so we find ourselves in a troubled world this Sunday morning some two millennia later.  Might we listen again to the raw force and possibilities contained in the story we have just heard? What do we hear? How do we take this story with us in to this new week that beckons? We find ourselves this morning at a banquet of his Word and Body laid out by our Lord and Brother. This place does not belong to anyone in particular and we are, all of us, invited guests of the One who has given his life for us and continues to be present among us where two or three gather in his name.  Those of us who have the great privilege of being invited to and present at the Eucharist on the Lord’s Day – the day of resurrection celebrated weekly every Sunday by the disciples of Jesus since the first century – might reflect on what it is that we have been invited to and what it is that we are called to do not just this morning but for the week ahead.

As it says in Acts 2:42:
They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

The party extends beyond Sundays.

According to some Jewish rabbinical saying, God will ask us only one question when we meet him after death: ‘Did you enjoy my creation?’

Wednesday, 4 October 2017

From rejection to acceptance

“…the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom...’’ (Matt 21:43)

Matthew 21:33-46 (Year A: Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity 8th October 2017)

Yet another parable of Jesus is presented to us in the Gospel of Saint Matthew. Picture a landowner, planting, a vineyard, some tenants and a few slaves and the harvest.  We may imagine different scenarios for this story ranging from our own role in possibly resisting the Word of God in our lives or the centrality of grace found in Jesus Christ the cornerstone of our redeemed lives. But, we need to be mindful of the historical context in which this parable or story is told. Matthew, as already said in previous blogs, is written by a Jewish Christian in a Jewish Christian community in the last half of the first century. These were seriously no fun times for Christians – or Jews who had submitted to Christ while remaining Jewish.  Persecution, torture, ostracism and death faced many as Rome crushed and dispersed the Chosen People and as the new faith founded on Jesus began to slowly spread West and East and South and North (usually the western part dominates the history books).
The message of rejection and acceptance features throughout scripture including, for example, in the Letter of Peter (1 Peter 2:4-7):

Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God’s sight, and like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it stands in scripture: ‘See, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious; and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.’ To you then who believe, he is precious; but for those who do not believe, ‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the very head of the corner’,
Jesus the Christ was rejected by some of his own people and, above all, by those in control of the Temple, the interpretation of the Law and allocation of justice.  Yet, he was and is the cornerstone.  Those sent in the name of Jesus were rejected and persecuted by those who will not accept the Gospel and its demands.  We may find ourselves in the dual position of being rejected as well as being among those who reject.  We fail to see Christ in our brother who pleads with us for mercy and understanding. We may, without knowing it, reject Christ, daily, in the those who are different to us and who cross our path for a purpose in God’s larger design.

God’s plan is that each person should be conceived, born and nurtured by love, in love and for love. While it does not always work this way in practice, we can be sure that our place and our call is to respond, generously, to this love. If we feel rejected, so was our brother and Lord. If we feel loved and accepted then so we must extend that welcome and love to others.
The great majority of us were blessed with a loving mother.  Most of us have known a special love in the course of our lives. This is God’s way of helping us to grow in love for others.
We have been called to go out, give witness and bear fruit like those tenants to whom the vineyard was given when others failed to bear fruit.

May we go out and tell the whole world that God is love and that God has loved us in others and that love is the purpose and source of our call to serve the world.

Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, now you have received mercy. (1 Peter 2:10)

Tuesday, 26 September 2017

Sticking to our word.

“…For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax-collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him...’’ (Matt 21:32)

Matthew 21:28-32 (Year A: Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity 1st October 2017)


Dictum meum pactum / my word is my trust

Someone’s word is their trust.  Or, is it?

Many a promise has been made in a rush of enthusiasm or prolonged positive feeling.  When the storms come or when circumstances change, the initial promise and zeal comes under strain.  Like in the parable of the sower, the worries, trials and attractions of life can blow us off course and we are at risk of losing our initial clarity of vision and determination of will. Questions arise. Doubts are sown and regrets begin to sprout. 

Words come easily when there are few clouds in the sky and all seems bright and easy. The same might be said of a religious experience when someone had a very strong sense of God’s love at a particular moment in time and in a particular place.  We might give our ‘all’ and our ‘yes’ in such circumstances. Then, a year later or 40 years later we might be tempted give only a qualified ‘all’ and a qualified ‘yes’ (if a ‘yes’ at all).

Actions speak louder than words.
Yet, words are extremely important. They arise from the Life that is within us and they give Life to those with whom we share conversations in the daily journey of life. 
For Jesus declared in Matthew 7:21
Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord”, will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only one who does the will of my Father in heaven.
Perhaps, the parable of the two sons reminds us that we need to consider carefully what it is that we are saying yes to. Perhaps, the first son was right to avoid saying yes, initially. ‘But later he changed his mind and went’ (v. 29).  The point is that the first son is an example of someone who does the will of God having thought the matter over and having opened himself or herself to God’s grace (we never say ‘yes’ without the help and free grace of God).  The ‘second son’ is something of an unreliable character who promised much but ended up delivering little.
On a more ordinary everyday level, we might associate the first son with people who make lists, have lots of plans and are always about to deliver but never carry out what it is that they promised or undertook to do. The second son might be a difficult sort who is stubborn and unwilling to commit but who actually delivers. Clearly, the doer (the second son) is the preferred response. However, we might combine something of both traits from the two sons and be enthusiastic doers of God’s word.

The Gospel of Matthew ..
was written at a particularly difficult moment among the first Jewish Christians, many of whom were faced with exclusion, rejection and excommunication from the closely-knit community centred around the Synagogue (or Temple a decade or so earlier).  Many of the first ones presented to God had rejected the One God had sent but many of the second ones (sinners, tax-collectors, prostitutes and the gentile who were, by definition, unclean). Such were the times in which the Good News had to be refined and communicated to a new generation of believers who had not seen the Lord in the flesh some 50 years previously. The audience, according to Matthew, for this passage were the chief priests and elders and the location was the Temple in Jerusalem (which would be destroyed some 40 years later or 10 years before Matthew Gospel was written from various oral and other written sources). (Matthew 21:23-27)

We might, sometimes, backtrack on our promises and words but God is ever faithful and waits patiently and lovingly for us to return to him (2 Peter 3:9)
The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance.
Are there among us those who consider themselves safe and sound..

on the right side of God? Do we look with disdain on the masses of the unwashed – heretics, non-believers, people living very different lifestyles to those approved by traditional norms, etc.? Might there be more manifestations of Godly righteousness and compassion outside our church circles than within?  We might, yet, be in for a shock in the fullness of time.

Tuesday, 19 September 2017

Called in the evening of life

“…the last will be first..’’ (Matt 20:16)


Matthew 20:1-16 (Year A: Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity 24th September 2017)


Thanks to extraordinary progress in health and living arrangements, those of us fortunate to live in the economically prosperous world can look forward, with cautious hope, to retirement. We may hope to live a life long enough to accompany our children and grandchildren or other extended family members in their life journeys. We might, also, look forward to good health and an adequate income with a spouse or partner as we face ageing and, ultimately, birth to new life in the Risen Lord.  There are many, however, who do not make it to the ‘third age’ or, through circumstances and challenges, do not enjoy a pleasant transition. Nobody can be sure of what lies ahead. We live in the grace of God day by day and we make our best plans trusting in God’s care for us.
As Christians, we are in the business of growth – growth humanly and divinely as members of Christ. Baptism marks us out as children of God. Nourished by Word and Sacrament we have many possibilities throughout life to grow in loving, in wisdom and in all of the fruits of the Holy Spirit. Each of us has been given special talents and gifts. Peter reminds us (1 Peter 4:10):
Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.
Retirement?
When asked for advice about retirement, Winston Churchill advised someone to take up a hobby.  In addition to writing and a busy schedule which included much eating, drinking and smoking, he managed to complete over 500 canvas paintings in the course of a decade (indicating an average of one a week!).

I recall reading a pamphlet entitled ‘Called in the morning’ some decades ago when I was struggling with what vocation meant for me. Somehow, that call never went away though one was held up in traffic, so to speak. For all of us called to be in Christ, our vocation is to live out to the full our baptism. This is more important than any other calling. Our baptismal call is a call to serve and love in a broken world recognising our own fragility and God-given graciousness. God calls us to follow him in Jesus just as we are – not perfect, not rounded and not fully what we could be yet. Some may sense a call to a special ministry of service in the wider local or universal church. Whatever, our calling – which in any case remains something to be uncovered, together, rather than assumed or promoted by one alone – there is much to be done. People are starving for someone to listen – really listen. People are starving for some words of insight. People are starving for Word and Sacrament – though they may never know it.

The notion that special callings to ministry are only for the academically gifted, the relatively young or the ritually pure is not a Gospel value.  God calls as we are. Of course, those with special commissions to serve or witness must do so in a way that is consistent with the purpose and message of Gospel living.  The gap between what is said and what is lived needs to be narrowed as much as possible. After all, people learn more from how those in ministry act in their whole lives than what they might say for 10 minutes or so once a week.

This week’s Gospel passage presents us with a parable about servants who were called at different times of the day. I guess that, nowadays, we would refer to such servants as ‘if and when workers’ waiting for work in the market place of modern, precarious work. But, this parable is not, primarily, about fairness or the details of working conditions in the Hellenistic-Roman world which were, by all accounts, brutal. The parable is about God’s generosity in calling each one and all in no matter what stage of life they find themselves.

Called late in the day
Those called late in the day responded and received the same recompense according to the story. The point of the narrative is not that ministry is something undertaken for one’s own reward or recompense. Rather, the story makes the point that God can call anyone at any stage including those approaching their ‘third age’.

There were those, in the story, who were standing around idle for most of the day because “Because no one has hired us.” (verse 7). They were waiting for something to happen or for someone to tell them what to do.  Too often, institutions (including churches), can engender apathy, passivity and stagnation. We need a healthy balance of initiation or innovation, on the one hand, and respect for ‘the way things are’ on the other. Many churches here in the Western world have become (or always were) much too complacent and comfortable. As congregations dwindle and age it seems not to occur to many that this cannot go on indefinitely. In some cases, there are still reasonably sizeable congregations but fewer and fewer priests (such as is the case in the Roman Catholic church in Ireland today). In other cases, the opposite seems to be the case where there are very small congregations but quite a few involved in ministry (as is the case in the Church of Ireland). What is striking in many Christian traditions is the extent to which we have turned in on ourselves. This can take many forms including:
  • Seeking to conserve the past including ways, manners of doing not to mention ancient buildings and ancestral monuments therein.
  • Seeking to draw people into closed circles of like-mindedness and piety while the big, bad world out there carries on.
What many people – including the young who search – wait for is (a) authenticity of living and (b) a sense of community, belonging and identity. If churches do not give this they look elsewhere or, even in a few cases, in new church expressions outside the mainline churches we are familiar with in Ireland and in other parts of the English-speaking world.

All of this points to a burning need to rediscover the essential purpose and mission of church today in our localities and places of social engagement. Perhaps, we need to rethink at least some parts of the menu we are offering others. Perhaps, we need different courses and options when it comes to participation in Sunday worship? Perhaps we need to get out more into the streets and thorough fares not to preach at people or make them feel even more insecure but, rather, to listen, to serve, and to stand in solidarity with people where they are and how they are. The gospels are full of examples where Jesus and his disciples broke taboos and even annoyed the Temple and Synagogue officials in the process.

The time is limited
The truth is that we have limited time – here on earth – to fulfil what it is that God has given us to do. There is an urgent need to announce, once again, the Gospel story of freedom that can set many people free. For in John 9:4 Jesus declares:
We must work the works of him who sent us while it is day; night is coming when no one can work
The vineyard awaits us at any time of life. But who will be sent?  What does this ‘sending’ mean, concretely, for you, me, others?  Do we hear a gentle whisper some time? Might it say to us:
I have sent you to touch the minds and hearts of many and to set my people free…
Might there be those, among us, in the ‘third age’ of life who can help in some way?  It’s evening time for many of us and it is the second best part of the day after the morning (or maybe it will be the best?). I conclude with a saying attributed to the American actress, Bette Davis (1908-1989):
I will not retire while I've still got my legs and my make-up box.

Tuesday, 12 September 2017

Forgiveness without limits – the hard Gospel

“…So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.’’ (Matt 18:35)


Matthew 18:21-35 (Year A: Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity 17th September 2017)


This Sunday’s passage comes in three parts: (1) a pressing question from Peter about how often he should forgive a brother who sins against him (could he possibly be referring to one of the twelve apostles?), (2) a quick and sharp answer from Jesus backed up with parable or story form Jesus to illustrate the point, and (3) a generalised ‘so this is the lesson’ for Peter and everyone else listening (including us, today, on this 14th Sunday after Trinity on the 17th September).

It is, perhaps, easy to say ‘I forgive that person’ or ‘I hold no grudges against that person’. It is more difficult to change our feelings and, indeed, our behaviour which is shaped by our will, understanding and feelings.  If you find it ever so slightly awkward to look a particular person in the eye, there is a fair chance that a residue of hurt and resentment lingers somewhere below our surfaces. Forgiveness, therefore, is a work in progress. From the statement ‘I forgive that person’ or, indeed, ‘Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us’ (in the prayer, Our Father) to letting go of hurt and letting the other person go from our negative feelings and perceptions, we need to work on forgiveness. It doesn’t just happen. It takes lots of patience, prayer, time, self-awareness, trust and self-honesty. It is a work of grace and, alone, we cannot reach a place of forgiving when hurt is overwhelming.

But, Peter asked a reasonable question and we may ask the same question. What if I have forgiven someone not once, but twice, three times …. seven times?  After each episode and starting-again, someone keeps saying, doing or failing in the same way each time. It may be galling to consider indefinitely forgiving this person. To be concrete, we might consider a very real situation where someone has lost a loved one or was nearly lost themselves in a bombing or shooting with all the horrendous pains, memories and lost years? What if the one who perpetrated the violence is now sitting across the table and saying ‘that was then and now is now’ or ‘we deeply regret any hurt caused, sure weren’t we all victims of an unjust situation?’. This example may extend to perpetrators of evil and violent acts whether done as part of a paramilitary organisation or by a State organisation acting unjustly and immorally.

It is easy for someone standing in a pulpit or writing a blog to preach forgiveness in big matters as well as not so big matters. We do not feel the pain, the hurt, the trauma, the limbs that will never move again or, even worse still, the empty ‘regrets’ of those who have no remorse for acting in what they rationalised a just war.

Less dramatic examples of sinful and hurtful actions might include, for example, repeated infidelity in a marriage – in spite of many promised restorations. Another example might relate to acts of physical, mental or emotional abuse which persist in spite of repeated attempts to seek help and reform.

We must clearly and decisively differentiate between forgiveness and facilitation of wrong. To refuse to name abuse or to refuse to walk away when all reasonable and time-bound efforts have been made is not forgiveness. It is facilitation of abuse. Rather, we may learn to forgive by letting go and by not surfing the waves of resentment (and letting them wash over as we keep walking to our destination). This is a work in progress never entirely complete or perfect but part of a process of healing as much for ourselves as for anyone else. If we cannot move towards greater forgiveness then the one who has deeply hurt us is still somewhere in our heads and hearts hurting us even if the one is long dead or gone from our lives.

An important aid to being able to forgive (and let go which is the same thing) is to realise that we, too, stand in the dock. At least some times and in some situations, we have failed to live up to the call of love. Perhaps we are blind to certain things but we know in our hearts that somewhere along the line we have fallen short – even well short of what is right. 

St Paul in a letter to the Ephesians writes (4:31-32):
Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.
Were such an approach to be initiated and really tried today, Sunday, in families across the country what a difference it could make.  Seeds of reconciliation would be sown and people set free from pointless family feuds or bad behaviour. Someone initiating a new approach based on mercy and humility would be met with the same cutting sarcasm and bitterness as ever. However, it is surely true that the practice of consistent, wholesome and whole-hearted compassion will not leave the coldest heart untouched at some point. It may not save a hopeless situation but it will have some impact for the better in the long-run.

Were such an approach to be initiated and really tried singularly or together tomorrow, Monday, in workplaces across the country what a difference it could begin to make. Productivity would rise, happiness would increase, health would improve and people would be freed from the never-ending cycle of gossip, resentment and organisational feuding.

There is more than a touch of irony in the parable of forgiveness citing the example of the servant who owed a huge sum of money to the King. He was merciless in dealing with his own debtors though he had been forgiven a large sum of money. Thousands of mortgage holders and businesses have been harshly treated in the course of the recent great recession in Ireland and many other jurisdictions. Yet, huge sums of money were transferred in part or in full by the banks or the State to the bondholders and creditors who had taken a huge risk and failed but were entirely protected against loss of assets.


Forgiveness has radical implications not only for individuals and small groups but whole societies and economies.

Tuesday, 5 September 2017

'Where two or three': Re-founding church

“…For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.’’ (Matt 18:20)


Matthew 16:21-27 (Year A: Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity 10th September 2017)


This is a relatively short passage from the Gospel of Saint Matthew. Yet, it is rich in content and contains many leads for consideration. First, we must put it in context. It comes to us in a flow of parables – succinct stories that, each, have a punch line or a ‘so what’. 

The scene is set in those communities from which Matthew emerged – some decades following the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.  Already, a young Christian community was beginning to emerge in various parts of the Roman Empire.  Tensions were running high following the liquidation of the Temple in the Siege of Jerusalem at the end of the first Jewish-Roman war or Great Revolt.  As today, in the Middle East, those were particularly difficult times for Jews and Christians – the latter beginning as a movement within Judaism but acquiring the status of an increasingly separate religious cult and belief system towards the end of the first century and probably after the gospel of Matthew was written down.

We can imagine that this period was one of intense persecution, in-fighting, blame, suspicion and trauma. The first disciples of Jesus faced numerous challenges ranging from dealing with ostracism from their own families to persecution from the religious and political authorities of the day to vicious sectarianism and partisanship within the early emerging church or churches (the term ‘church’ is hardly ever used in the gospels: this passage from Matthew is one of only two uses of the term ‘ekklêsia).  Like any community, Christians were not immune from human weakness manifested in behaviour and attitudes at variance with the kingdom of God values elaborated by Jesus in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12 – Rejoice and be glad).

Line by line
‘If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one.’ (v. 15)
Fraternal correction is an essential part of Christian discipleship.  None of us is immune from faults – especially those invisible to us but visible to others.  It takes a lot of trust, affection and shared desire for the common good to be open to correction based on truth. It also takes honest, courageous and respectful conversations: the type of conversations we often run away from or put off to another time.
When fraternal correction or communication of a difficult message is required we are challenged to consider how and when to do this. The one correcting is, of course, not beyond fault and too often those in authority over others (e.g. parents, bishops, seniors and ‘bosses’ in the workplace) are too prone to impart correction with motives that are mixed (like for example when a parent after a hard day’s work has had enough of whining from a child). Truly loving correction is difficult at the best of times. Not infrequently those in positions of responsibility run away from correction for fear of negative reactions on the part of those corrected. The desire to be popular liked and respected may outweigh the responsibility to help others and to uphold the shared good of all concerned.
On the other hand, those corrected do not like being corrected. Let’s face it none of us likes being corrected even when it is done gently, carefully and lovingly. It is hard to be told things we don’t like to hear. Then again, it is possible that we may think that we are being misunderstood and falsely assessed and we might even be right in thinking so.
‘But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses.’ (v. 16)
In cases of serious wrong-doing like, for example, bullying in the workplace, care is needed to approach someone whose behaviour is not acceptable.  Everyone is due respect and privacy. However, if a one-to-one does not work then others may need to be involved. However, this must also be done with great gentleness, respect and care. After all, those who perceive a wrong-doing may only see part of the full picture and may be subject to bias or personal interest that they are not even aware of.

Paul wrote to the Galatians 6:1:
My friends, if anyone is detected in a transgression, you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness. Take care that you yourselves are not tempted.
‘If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax-collector.’(v.17)
If, after many efforts and stages of intervention, the one who behaves flagrantly against the common good of a community persists must be removed for the good of all (and including the one causing the offence).  If only church leaders had heeded these sayings of Jesus in the gospel of Matthew in the course of recent decades when scandals of abuse became clear to those in authority.  Churches are paying a heavy price for a failure in duty to the most vulnerable even up to the present time.  Apologies, procedures and prayer are not enough. Action to root evil doing along with appropriate sanctions for those who failed in authority is required. Full transparency and accountability to the entire church is essential. Churches have much to do to regain trust.
‘Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.’ (v. 18)
We heard this saying, already, in Matthew 16:18 (‘whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven’). What Jesus says to Peter, he says to each and all in the brotherhood and sisterhood of his followers. In a special way, it is said to those in positions of special authority and responsibility. However, it is also said to you and me if we are serious about following Jesus today.

Whereas the ‘binding’ and the ‘loosing’ in heaven as on earth refers to Peter as ‘primus inter pares’ (first among equals) the same ‘binding’ and ‘loosing’ applies to where ‘two or three gather in my name’.  The ‘primus’ and the ‘inter pares’ need to be in balance. At times over the last two millennia the balance has swung too far to one pole or the other.  However, the earth is balanced on two poles – not one.
‘Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven.’ (v. 19)
The ekklêsia or gathering is vital.  Where two or three are gathered in the name of Jesus and ask and pray and seek together then doors are opened, prayers answered and gifts beyond expectations showered on us.
 ‘For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.’ (v. 20)
This is the core of ‘ekklêsia’. Where two or three are gathered together in the name of the Lord Jesus and where there is true love then Jesus is truly present among them. Sacraments, teaching, discipleship are founded on this gathering in faith and love. Without this foundation, everything crumbles and does not last. The beauty and power of this truth is that gathering in the name of Jesus is not confined to special times and places. A family or a couple gathered in the name of Jesus and united in his love is church.  A company of believers gathered for prayer in a quiet corner of a busy city is church. A mother nursing an infant at 3am in the morning is church. Two prisoners on death row united in the name and love of Jesus is church.

Potentially, the gathering of two or three in his name is subversive and disruptive because where Jesus is so also the Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit can gently wreak havoc on the best laid plans, assumptions and imposed structures. It is a gathering/ekklesia/church literally without walls. But, we need walls and structures, too, provided they don’t keep people out or keep people stuck in all the time.

If we were more conscious of the presence of Jesus ‘where two or three gather’ in his name we might review some of our attitudes and dispositions in daily life.  It comes back to daily living.
Ecumenism (Christian reconciliation) in high places requires a change of attitude and heart at the local and specific levels where ‘two or three gather’ in his name whether for prayer, work, joint action, simple conversation or silence.

At the end of our lives, we might catch a momentary glimpse of situations where God was present where two or three were gathered and we didn’t quite realise it at the time. We might even be present among two or three in the final moments of someone’s life on earth. And wouldn’t it be lovely if we made our own journey – when the time comes – in the company of two, three or more of our closest and dearest.
And didn’t our hearts burn within us when he talked with us and when he opened the scriptures to us (Luke 24:32).
Postscript
Here is an exercise to consider in the coming week or so:
  • Think about and acknowledge times where ‘two or three’ are often gathered in the name of Jesus.
  • Name the persons and the occasions.
  • Prepare for such gatherings in advance by means of a short prayer or time of quiet.
  • Enter into such gatherings mindfully noting one’s inner thoughts, feelings and responses.
  • Be on the watch for occasions where two or three are gathered other than in the name of Jesus. Is God calling me in this situation to witness? How? A prayer of consensus (Matthew 18:19) might be possible to discern one’s call or role in such difficult situations.