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 1^st 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.

Called in the evening of life

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

Matthew 20:1-16 (Year A: Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity 24^th 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.

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 17^th 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 14^th Sunday after Trinity on the 17^th 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.

'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 10^th 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.