Thinking and Believing Today

 ‘…Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe … (John 20:29)

John 20:19-31 (Year C: Easter +2)

(Sometimes this is called ‘Low Sunday’ after the ‘High’ of last Easter Sunday. In some traditions this Sunday is referred to as ‘Mercy Sunday’ marking a special celebration of Jesus’ mercy.)

‘Thinking’ and ‘believing’ go together. However, since the age of enlightenment people have pushed the boundaries of thinking and human reason to a point where, in the fullness of time, and here in Europe belief in a supernatural being has been relegated to the domain of private opinion and choice.  This is a pity because ‘reason’ and ‘faith’ can and do complement each other. As pointed out last Sunday the act of, and will to, believe that Jesus rose from the dead and is now alive among us and within the hearts and minds of each one is central to Christian belief and practice. Without this cornerstone our faith would be in vain and we, of all people, would be most to be pitied (1 Corinthians 15:19).

The evangelist, John, is about to finish his book with a bang. In the space of one half of the second last chapter (or was it the last until chapter 21 was added?) we hear about the resurrection, the primary role of women in witnessing and telling of the resurrection, the struggles of doubting Thomas, the call to mercy and a ministry of forgiveness, the sending out on mission, the few words spoken by Jesus in the period after his resurrection and, finally, the statement of purpose in this gospel of John:

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

‘that through believing’ we might have life in the name of Jesus. That’s it. Grace, Response through faith and eternal life in the time to come as well as here and now. Very simple! But, does any of this make sense in a 21^st century world someone asks? 

Making sense of if today

We need to enter into a respectful and learning attitude towards the world that has, in many ways, moved beyond the core beliefs and practices of orthodox Christianity (taking the word orthodox in its widest application to all Christians who profess Jesus as both Saviour and as God).  We are, after all, asked to love God with all our faculties including our minds (Luke 10:27):

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.

With all our mind and not just part of it …. Tragically, some Christian folk distrust the mind as something separate and subordinate along with that other untrustworthy thing called the body. Yet, all of these faculties, which form part of the whole are to be cherished and used lovingly to bring glory to God and freedom to humanity. Instead we fall into the trap of incomplete human development. A form of this is a type of belief and practice that is born out of fear and ignorance. When confronted with a world of ideas, relationships and evidence we may retreat into the ‘certainties of our age’. Now the certainties of our age can take many forms. I will refer to only three of them that seem particularly relevant to this Sunday’s reading:

• Scientific reductionism
• Biblical literalism
• Absolute and unqualified ecclesial infallibility across the board.

Ecclesial infallibilism

Let’s get the third one of the way first.  Finding solace and refuge in religion many a ‘convert’ elevates ‘mother church’ or some leader in same to a pedestal and status that is not consistent with faith as living, growing and personal relationship.  Put another way, ‘the church teaches’ or ‘the pope says’ are convenient ways of avoiding painful, sometimes bitter but always fruitful struggles on the part of thoughtful and grounded disciples. The hard work of thinking through, reviewing, changing, adapting but above all listening to others and to one’s heart and mind does not come easy for some of us.

Biblical literalism serves a very similar role to that of ecclesial infallibilism – it elevates some version or other of sacred scripture to a position of exact, legal and rational interpretation that admits of no living tradition, experience and depth. Everything is set in stone (sometimes literally) so that each one must follow a blueprint and believe in the exact same formulations. Now, unity of doctrine and practice on the ‘essentials’ is a good and necessary thing any time in the history of church. However, we need to go back to the sources with informed minds and open hearts. Even ‘the devil can cite scripture’ as William Shakespeare has it in The Merchant of Venice.  The sad reality today whether in Lahore, London or Limerick is that this insight of Shakespeare is very true. Of course, any serious scholar will quickly spot that the biblical literalists are selective in which passages or extracts they cite to advance their particular theological project or schema.

And, then, there are the scientific reductionists. These come in different forms and guises from the half-informed scientist or would-be-scientist as well as the people who live and move in a very incomplete world lacking in trust and imagination.  In many ways classical scientific reductionism is dead and along with it 20^th century ‘scientific socialism’ (the very term insults both socialism and science).  Thanks to science we are, perhaps, more aware than was the case in previous generations that our knowledge is limited and that there is much that we do not know or cannot know.

One characteristic binds together the ecclesial infallibilists, the biblical literalists and the scientific reductionists together is fear and deep insecurity masquerading as certainty. They know they are right (and by inference others are wrong) because they have it on high authority from a book, a pronouncement or a some scientific tract – so they claim. However, the pretenders to certainty remain locked behind closed doors as the 10 disciples were (where was Thomas?) because they had not still met the Risen one and had not yet fully received his Holy Spirit for the mission at hand.

A 21^st century Thomas

In a way Thomas – who was chided for lack of faith – was a very pre-modern character for us today.  He didn’t take the word of his ecclesial comrades because he wanted to ‘see the evidence’ for himself. Neither was he prepared to entrust himself to some biblical certainty in the prophets.  Ultimately, it was for Thomas a personal encounter with the living Christ – but crucially in the company, life and mutual love of others –  that made all the difference. And though we may not be able to see or touch or reason in the way our ancestors in faith did we are no less vulnerable to the challenge of faith in a world crying out for the risen life of Jesus.  Grounded in the here and anchored to the present moment we, too, can taste this risen life to such an extent that we cry out ‘My Lord and my God’. There we will find that peace (v. 19), that joy (v. 20) and that freedom (v. 23) that stands out in this story of the resurrection.

Looking for signs of life

 ‘…Why do you look for the living among the dead?… (Luke 24:5)

Luke 24:1-12 (Year C: Easter Sunday)

(In some places the Gospel of Easter Sunday is from John 20:1-18 instead of Luke 24:1-12 which I am using here. Often Luke 24:1-12 is used for the Vigil Eucharist of Easter.  There are differences of detail and emphasis suggesting that Luke and John drew from a third source).

‘And then Peter ‘went home, amazed at what had happened’ (v. 12).  Some Bible translations emphasise a slightly different aspect in this same story:

wondering in himself at that which was come to pass. (King James Version)

Whether amazed or wondering or both Peter was not the only one and today many among us wonder about what really did happen that first Easter Sunday morning. What exactly happened and how it happened was not recorded on a video camera.  However, there is another question about what happened next for the coming 2,000 years.  We should not neglect the latter question by an over preoccupation and intellectual curiosity about he first question. It is enough to believe that Jesus rose from the dead and that this has huge consequences for the way we live our lives today.  Resurrection Sunday – another name for every Sunday and not just Easter Sunday once a year – is about something much deeper than recalling an event 2,000 years ago or fulfilling a duty or a custom to attend Church at least at Easter and Christmas if not in between. 

Human yearnings

The fact is that everyone of us yearns to be risen

• risen from ourselves and the ways of thinking that stand in the way of true human freedom;
• risen from fear of getting old, being sick at some point and facing the inevitable sooner or later; and
• risen from that which holds us back and cuts us off from others (sin by another name).

Whatever way we theorise it there is an essential core to every human being that yearns for freedom, health and flourishing. For us Christians resurrection is our truth and one that we propose to everyone Christian or not.  And, yes, a resurrection 2,000 years ago is a relevant and non-negotiable part of our shared faith no matter how we chose to express it in terms of theology and philosophy. Let’s put it this way: if someone could prove that, beyond all reasonable scientific doubt, the Jesus we know died and his bones have been found in such and such a place then our faith is in vain. As we read in Paul’s first letter to the church at Corinth (1 Corinthians 15:13-19):

If there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain. We are even found to be misrepresenting God, because we testified of God that he raised Christ—whom he did not raise if it is true that the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised. If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have died in Christ have perished. If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.

Our faith is not in vain

Put another way, we can say that resurrection is no mere fable story or moral metaphor or some esoteric rising of the Christ in our consciousness. Sorry, but Christianity is far too materialist and practical to be reduced to that sort notion. Christ is truly risen! And the proof it is in the way you and I live today and every day from now on.

The tomb was not empty by chance when the women went there. A stone had been removed from the entrance. They had taken the first step in trust not fearing any danger from those guarding the tomb or those who might have been waiting to ambush the disciples of one they had executed. But, before they reached the tomb that stone had been rolled away. These disciples were searching in the wrong place for the wrong thing. Sometimes we search for risen life in mediocre places when the risen life is like a treasure buried deep within us where the kingdom of God is to be found. We set off on pilgrimages to foreign places when we might have built a shrine in the secret places of our heart. We seek satisfaction in status, possession and power over others when, in truth, joy is waiting to catch us by surprise right where we are as we are.  ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead?’ we might ask.  The Living One is here.

Writing a number of years ago, Brother Roger of Taizé, said:

A luminous Gospel insight has come to light after gathering dust for a long time: “The Risen Christ is united to every human being without exception, even if they are not aware of it.”

For people held in captivity and who have been suddenly released, freedom can be a daunting prospect. Adaptation takes time. Reconditioning may be necessary. This may be captured in a few lines of a poem by Gerald McFlynn.

On the morning of the third day I went to the tomb and rolled back the stone. Out came the poor and destitute, the prisoners, Travellers..the old and forgotten… blinking in the sunlight all ready for a new birth.

The late Brother Roger of Taizé composed the following prayer based on a deep lived theology of resurrection:

O Christ, you are united to every human being without exception, even if they are unaware of it. Still more, risen from the dead, you come to heal the secret wound of the soul. And for each person, the gates of a heartfelt compassion are opened.

The fifteenth station

 ‘…As they led him away, they seized a man, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming from the country, and they laid the cross on him, and made him carry it behind Jesus’… (Luke 23:26)

Luke 22:14-23:56 (Year C: Palm Sunday – Lent 6)

Where are we at?

Lent has flown. So, how has it been?  In lent as in life we experience our own fragility. We also experience the graciousness of God often delivered through others in the many ‘small things’ – the spontaneous expressions of care, appreciation and support.  And then we encounter moments when sheer decency and humanity in another – possibly a stranger – catches us by complete surprise.

This Palm Sunday we enter into a very special week. For many it is the wind-down for a long public holiday with the prospect of the ‘clocks going forward’ in this part of the world and the long summer evenings to look forward in the not too distant future. What does Holy Week mean to us? 

The life of the Risen Christ is everywhere

A long reading – a very long reading – this Sunday prepares us for what is about to happen in the liturgy in the coming days. Liturgy is more than just a dramatization or symbolic re-enactment of a past event. It is a playing out of something real, tangible and life-changing here and now.  Images of feet being washed, the Sacrament shared, the empty sanctuary, the procession to the cross, the long vigil, the paschal candle and the singing of the Exultet reminds us year after year that our Lenten journey is a very visible sign of our own personal journeys.  There is suffering, passion and resurrection in our own personal lives. We know nothing of the anguish and pain of the person next to us whether in a line to reverence the cross or in a queue waiting for a bus that has been delayed. The ordinary and the supernatural are wrapped up together. The life of the risen Christ is everywhere in the depths of acute pain and worry.

Theologians may debate the question of God’s suffering. They are referred to this Sunday’s reading! Although nobody has a neat answer to the question of suffering we know that God turned suffering and death into victory not by glorifying suffering as some distortions of spirituality might infer but by drawing life and hope from where evil reigned.  God does not inflict suffering on anyone. Bad choices have consequences. And, ‘nature has it this way’ which entails suffering.  We can chose how to see suffering and how to possibly overcome it too with God’s help. But, we must walk the way with Jesus and this takes much courage.

Doing the stations

A popular tradition in many places during Lent, and not least on Good Friday, is the devotion of the Via Crucis (the Way of the Cross in latin) or ‘Stations of the Cross’. Tracing its roots in various stories and traditions including a few that are not strictly biblical, the ‘Stations’ provide a walking prayer exercise down and up the aisle or outdoors.  To those familiar with the practice now or in the past it entailed seven stations down the northern side starting with the trial and condemnation of Jesus by Pontius Pilate and a further seven stations up the southern side to stop at the laying of Jesus’ body in the tomb.  The resurrection doesn’t get a mention (that is until the Via Lucis, or the Way of Light, was inaugurated as a devotional). We arrive at the Via Lucis of our own lives through many a Via Crucis. The darkest hour is just before the dawn as the saying goes.  Before the fifteenth station is the fourteenth where we bury our old self in Christ. Author Bronnie Ware, in her remarkable book The Top Five Regrets of the Dying put it this way:

…it was the end of my life, as I knew it at least. But, I didn’t have to die physically. Only that old part of myself died, spiritually. Those old ideas of myself could not survive the bright light of my own love. The new life that had been quietly manifesting for years was finally able to be born. (p. 237)

We need a balanced spirituality that recognises the reality of life and death and new life.  We are not caught in some never-ending cycle of life such as in reincarnation beliefs. Neither are we condemned to a lonely, pointless and ultimately despairing sojourn that ends with death. Our calling and belonging is to a social body (that is, together) that moves onwards and upwards through many valleys, twists, reversals and falls though our destination is marked clearly if we allow ourselves to be taken there. On the way we meet fellow pilgrims some of whom may be overwhelmed by various things including their past, their weakness, their illness.  Like Simon of Cyrene we can help them to carry their cross (and not just our own). Carrying another’s cross? Surely, we have enough on our plate to carry our own!  The truth is that when we carry another’s cross we carry our own and love returns to us in a mysterious way that may not be evident until years after. So, the message of Holy Week and every week of the year is take up our own cross and someone else’s too by bearing with one another in patience and love: the fruits of suffering in patient love is resurrection and this resurrection will liberate us as much from false religion as it does from the idols of our age.   Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote on the 16^th July 1944 from his prison in Tegal near Berlin:

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

"Stations on the Road to Freedom" by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

from Tegel prison..

Discipline
If you set out to seek freedom, then learn above all things
to govern your soul and your senses, for fear that your passions
and longing may lead you away from the path you should follow.
Chaste be your mind and your body, and both in subjection,
obediently steadfastly seeking the aim set before them;
only through discipline may a man learn to be free.

Action
Daring to do what is right, not what fancy may tell you,
valiantly grasping occasions, not cravenly doubting--
freedom comes only through deeds, not through thoughts taking wing.
Faint not nor fear, but go out to the storm and the action,
trusting in God whose commandment you faithfully follow;
freedom, exultant, will welcome your spirit with joy.

Suffering
A change has come indeed. Your hands, so strong and active,
are bound; in helplessness now you see your action
is ended; you sigh in relief, your cause committing
to stronger hands; so now you may rest contented.
Only for one blissful moment could you draw near to touch freedom;
then, that it might be perfected in glory, you gave it to God.

Death
Come now, thou greatest of feasts on the journey to freedom eternal;
death, cast aside all the burdensome chains, and demolish
the walls of our temporal body, the walls of our souls that are blinded,
so that at last we may see that which here remains hidden.
Freedom, how long we have sought thee in discipline, action, and suffering;
dying, we now may behold thee revealed in the Lord.”

Love sets you free

 ‘…Has no one condemned you?...’ (John 8:10)

John 8:1-11 (Year C: Passion Sunday – Lent 5)

A choice of readings

Almost as significant an issue as universal agreement, West and East, on the date of Easter (and an issue that divided the early Irish Church from Rome) would be universal agreement on the choice of Gospel reading for this 5^th Sunday of Lent in ‘Year C’ (when the Gospel of Luke provides most of the Sunday readings in the third of a three-year cycle of readings). Alas, I am going with the choice of reading from the Roman Catholic cycle which differs, on this Sunday from other cycles including the widely used ‘Revised Common Lectionary’ cycle. For some very strange reason John 8:1-11 (the story of the woman caught in adultery) does not feature in the Revised Common Lectionary cycle of Sunday readings. Might this omission be in any way connected to the omission of this passage from some of the ancient versions of the gospel of John especially among Christians in the East?  Some scholars have speculated that John 8:1-11 was a late insertion and was influenced by a terse two lines to be found in the Gospel of Luke (21:37-38).  Whatever the case may be, this passage from John is a good complement to the story of the Prodigal Son which was the basis for last week’s reflection (Without Shame).  Last week concerned a story about a father and two sons one of whom went well astray. This week’s story is about a woman who also went astray. The context and social circumstances could not be more different but one theme remains: God’s mercy rules.  As Luke and John have it, Jesus was at the moment of teaching in the surroundings of the Temple in Jerusalem – not to supplant the ‘Old Law’ as to radically re-situate it in the Law of Mercy which trumps all Laws and laws.

(For those on the RCL cycle a reflection on the alternative reading for this Sunday in John 12:1-8 may be found under a Blog from last year: “Extravagant Love”.   As it happens, both stories concern a woman of doubtful repute and the behaviour of Jesus towards such women in contrast to that of ‘respectable’ and ‘upright’ men of religious standing in the community. Take your pick of readings this Sunday!)

That which incites religious 'passion'

The story of Jesus and ‘the scribes and the Pharisees’ (Luke 8:1-11) tells us a lot about who Jesus was for John and his community towards the end of the first century.  Now, there is nothing to excite men, and religiously minded men in particular, than sex! (of those afflictions in the world such as climate change, poverty, war and oppression none creates more disunity, conflict and passion in some religious circles than the detailed functioning of sex).  John 8:1-11 presents a woman who ‘was caught in the very act of committing adultery’. But, Jesus was not falling for a trap deliberately set for him by malevolent agitators.  The LAW in this situation, according to its controllers, was death by stoning (see, for example, Deuteronomy 22:21-24). Such punishment is meted out to women today in some parts of the world including countries whose regimes are supported by the Western powers. Other sexual transgressions – in the view of the punishers – give rise to the same punishment. Although there are ten commandments some seem to be specially deserving of an angry punishment especially when it concerns women – so the twisted view of God that can pervade some religious mind-sets then and now.

Care is needed in quoting scripture

It would be possible to select out particular passages in the Old Testament to try to justify someone being put to death.  Knowing this to be the case should caution us against the use of these same or similar verses to justify particular theological views in today’s world. How can the biblical literalists quote one verse from one book of the Old Testament to suit their case and ignore another verse from the very same source.  All of scripture is sacred and divinely inspired. But, it is written by humans in a given culture at a given time for given purposes and needs to be ‘translated’ carefully in today’s world without losing the essential point that we (and not just I) believe God is communicating through these wonderful books, poems, letters and stories.  It would be tragic if this reading from Passion Sunday were to ever provide fuel for an ungodly passion to punish others for transgressions that we ourselves might have undertaken or other transgressions by us against others to which we are blind.

In presenting the woman caught in adultery the ‘scribes and Pharisees’ had two purposes in mind:

• To continue humiliating a woman caught in sin; and
• To catch out (and presumably humiliate) Jesus as either a breaker of the law or a stoner of women.

Dealing with the critics

In one word this was about humiliation. ‘And making her stand before all of them’ (v.3) the woman was put on trial. At the same time, Jesus was also on trial facing the same religious accusers and manipulators of truth.  Jesus took charge of the situation by doing and saying nothing for a while and refusing to be boxed in or manipulated by the agenda of his questioners. But, the questioners were not going to be deterred by Jesus’ behaviour. ‘They kept on questioning him..’ (v. 7). Then Jesus turns the tables so to speak (and recall that according to John this episode was happening in the Temple precincts).  He invites the first one without sin to cast the first stone. And then we he bent his head down and started writing with his finger on the sandy surface (one wonders what he was writing).  Now, here is what happens – the accusers melted away one by one ‘beginning with the elders’. To be fair to the accusers and the elders they had some vestiges of self-respect and conscience and walked away rather than initiate the stoning. Mind you they did not apologise. Neither did they hang around to look Jesus and the woman in the face.  In one fell swoop Jesus has silenced and scattered the accusers of this woman while, at the same time, setting that woman free to be who she really was and could be. Who was this woman and what became of her subsequently we do not know. Perhaps she became a key disciple – even a martyr – and her role was written out of history (and that would not be the first time such a thing has happened).  Or, maybe she just went back to a very ordinary life in which she found the true love that she was looking for because she had been completely missing the target.

There is an important line to this story which has also been omitted in some ancient scriptural texts and it is this: ‘Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again’ (v. 11).  Put simply it means that there is no condemnation in Christ but he is with us and before us and behind us to enable us to walk in a new way in a new life. Not sinning any more is the challenge if we put it in a negative way. Practicing compassion, forgiveness from the heart and generosity where we find ourselves is the best antidote to those sins that drag us down or hold us back, viz, those things we do and say and that we know we should not do or say and those things we ought to do and say and that we know we do not.  In a letter to fellow Chistians in Philippi Paul wrote:

 ^…forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on towards the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.

 ‘Where are they?’ asks Jesus (v.10). Indeed. Where are those who accused this woman and also Jesus? Where are those who might judge us and you and me for this and for that?  Who are they to judge? Who am I to judge others or even myself? (1 Corinthians 4:3) for there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ (Romans 8:1).  It is essential that we leave both judgment with Christ. It stops there. 

It’s as simple as that

And where were all those friends and neighbours and family? The woman was said to be alone with Jesus.  In all likelihood friends, family and neighbours were too scared, anyway, to come near her. Or, perhaps, they had already written her off and excluded her as a bad person.  The point is that she is now left ‘alone’ with Jesus. This is all that matters right now. At any moment we may find ourselves alone with Jesus who looks steadily at us today as he did 2,000 years ago with the woman of this story and he says “You are good. You are forgiven. You are not condemned. The past is gone. Look to the future with confidence and with a firm resolve to live a good life”. It’s as simple as that.

Without shame

 ‘…and they began to celebrate ...’ (Luke 13:24)

Luke 15:11-32 (Year C: Lent 4)

It's party time! This used to be called Laetare Sunday because of the Introduction Laetare Jerusalem (Rejoice O Jerusalem), taken from Isaiah 66:10, used as the introit or introduction in the liturgy for the fourth Sunday of Lent. The Latin word for joy is Laetitia. 

For other reasons, the Sunday is associated with ‘Mothering Sunday’ and has given rise, in case people didn’t know, to ‘Mother’s Day’ one of these dates in the calendar beloved of retail, florist, restaurant and hospitality businesses across the English-speaking world in particular. According to a Wikipedia entry, ‘Mother Sunday’ was, traditionally, ‘a day when children, mainly daughters, who had gone to work as domestic servants were given a day off to visit their mother and family’.  How charming!

This year, the year of Luke, the fourth Sunday of Lent gospel reading is about the ‘prodigal son’ (no not the son who forgot it was Mother’s day and has been forgiven but the wayward in the parable or story found in the gospel of Luke). Tradition has allowed – in the past before the words equality and inclusion were heard of – for priests to wear pink vestments rather than the traditional Lenten purple in honour of Laetare Sunday (we all need relief during Lent!). The other dispensation is granted to Irish Christians to go green and break their rigorous fast on 17^th March in honour of that British saint Patrick. Sales of alcohol peak around this time (although there has been no noticeable fall in sales since the start of Lent as the Irish economy continued to recover in early 2016).

Now, Mothering Sunday, St Patrick’s day, Laetare Sunday and the commercial ‘Mother’s Day’ are four entirely separate matters or are they?

A story of forgiveness

So much has entered into the English language and other languages via the Bible and its many images, stories and turns of phrase.  The story of the prodigal son is just one example.  We are familiar with the image of the wayward son who acts irresponsibly and goes off to sow his wild oats only to return later in penury and misery to be met by a loving and compassionate father.  The jealousy of a brother and the reaction of their father adds spice to the story.  The parables of mercy found in the fifteenth chapter of Luke is preceded by the discourse on the demands of total discipleship in Luke 14 and is followed by some very challenging parables about riches in Luke 16. We should be aware that a parable of mercy is not a soft or easy option sandwiched in between hard discipleship and renunciation of attachment to material wealth. Rather, mercy explains everything we need to know about our God and it explains everything we need to know about how to live out our discipleship in this world as we know it. The fruits of this is joy and joy without shame.

The scene for this parable is set by the opening verses of Luke 15:1-2

Now all the tax-collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’

How ironic that Luke should have chosen this opening challenge as the context, first, for the parable of the lost coin (Luke 15:3-7), then the lost sheep (Luke 15:8-10) and finally the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32) when many of the followers of Jesus over the coming centuries would spend much time leaving lost coins lost, not bothering with the one lost sheep and setting barriers and exclusion orders for those who seek a return to fellowship at the Lord’s table. Of course, it may be pointed out that various anathemas and exclusion orders are present elsewhere in the New Testament including some references in the gospels. However, the overwhelming thrust of what Jesus said and did and what we know about sayings and actions attributed to Jesus is that he didn’t play it all by the Rules of religion or custom. Rather, he exposed the shallowness, selectivity and duplicity of those managing these Rules when the overriding Rule of Life was and is chesed – a loving kindness that is faithful and moved and movable.  We are not dealing, here, with some micro-manager God who is eagerly waiting to punish and control us. Neither are we dealing here with some ‘God of the ancient Greek Philosophers, that God who had no truck with the world, its people or its existence’, but remained ‘the unmoved mover of all things’ as Irish poet John Deane put it in his recent autobiography (Give Dust a Tongue: A faith and poetry memoir).

On the contrary, we are dealing with a living God who is all powerfully vulnerable to human suffering and delights in what has been created by love, in love, for love. The common thread running through each of the three parables in Luke 15 is that joy is the fruit of repentance and being found again. However, there is, potentially at least, a snag with the Prodigal son story.   plausible reaction on the part of those listening to the story of the Prodigal Son for the first time might raise the following three questions:

Questions:

• Wasn’t the father being unfair to the well-behaved and consistently loyal son?
• Didn’t the father have a responsibility to reprimand the wayward son because bad behaviour should not be rewarded and a lesson needed to be taught even if he forgave all and the wayward son repented of all? What sort of message was the father sending out to other sons and fathers in the locality?
•   Did the prodigal son remain virtuous or fall by the wayside again? It is known to have happened that persons fall more than once in the course of a lifetime. The parable stops at this point.

Good questions to which answers are not readily available!  Let’s listen carefully, again, to this all too familiar and all too human story. The story begins like this:

‘There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, “Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.” So he divided his property between them.  A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and travelled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living.’ (v. 11-13)

did the prodigal son pull a fast one?
How would any parent feel about a child doing a ‘runner’ with their precious savings?  We can assume that the Father was at least surprised, annoyed, resentful when this happened. But he ought to have known before hand given his youngest son’s character. While you can’t predict someone’s actual behaviour in advance you can guess a range of possible scenarios.  We are talking here of an ordinary human being in a story about human beings which sets the scene for a story about a heavenly father.  Note the absence of women in this story from start to finish (except by reference to women of ill-repute when the prodigal son was abroad). This is a classical scene from a patriarchal society where women do not feature when it comes to money, power and division of assets. 

When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. (v. 14-16)

The younger son fell on hard times. It happens. We all make mistakes. If we have not made mistakes when we were younger how would we learn? But, hold on wait for what is coming next….

But when he came to himself he said, “How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger!  I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you;  I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’”  So he set off and went to his father. (v.17-20a)

The traditional reading of the Prodigal Son is based on the idea that the prodigal son realised his mistakes, repented and returned to the Father.  But, there is another way of reading this story even if it is much less the assumed one – the son was cunning and clever enough to realise that when the money runs out the money runs out and the options are dire.  This son knew that his father was a bit of a push-over?  Did he gamble on pulling a fast one and putting on a repentance and self-humiliation scene? What was there to lose by giving it a try?  There are enough hints in the story to not exclude this possibility.  But, either way, the son returned and he was met by a compassionate father who took the initiative to meet him more than half ways. Read on…

But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.  Then the son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” But the father said to his slaves, “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.  And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” And they began to celebrate. (v.20b-24)

Well that was some scene in front of everyone!.  Just imagine this disgraceful and disgraced son who turns up out of the blue and publicly abases himself in remorse.  The neighbours, cousins, friends and local persons of note must have been dumbfounded. ‘Well, who would have thought?’. Perhaps we could imagine some wondering if this was just a show (it is a parable after all). The father is, indeed, a soft-hearted old man. He saw his son far off and ‘was filled with compassion’.  He must have been thinking of him night and day and wondering was his son alive, well and in one piece. A first century parable didn’t allow for skype, email, mobile phones and facebook messenger. But, here in this moment of strong emotion and bonding the father immediately accepts his son without question, without interrogation, without conditions, without reserve, without hesitation. This was man-to-man stuff and Father-to-son work. The father ‘put his arms around him and kissed him’ not afraid to show his emotions. To Northern Europeans this seems sloppily southern European or eastern European!  Except on the sports field, showing emotions like that especially among men and among male family members is difficult for some of us in colder climates! But, back to the story…

‘Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing.  He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on.  He replied, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.”  Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him.  But he answered his father, “Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!” (v.25-30)

Oh Oh. Enter the other son.  Many a family feud has started over questions of honour, pride, inheritance and favours. The eldest son was furious: why should he who had been the loyal, respectable and obedient son be treated the same as or even not as well as the younger irresponsible brother? It was a fair question but one that missed the point of the story – the one who was lost and found deserves a double celebration. This can be a hard one to swallow especially if there is a hint of manipulation on the part of the prodigal son who weighed up his options and decided that offering himself as a hired servant was a least worst option.  We may note that the elder son refers to his younger brother not as a brother but ‘this son of yours’ (v.30).  How often do we use language to put a distance between ourselves and particular others especially when relationships are frayed or sundered?

But, in responding to the very understandable anger and astonishment of the older son we are confronted with a very different and disruptive logic. The logic and metrics of God-love are very different to ours. Notions of merit, proportional reward and punishment for past wrong doing (even when someone has repented) are very different in the kingdom of God. This is why the kingdom of God is an alien and distant place for many in society and even, sometimes, in our very own churches.

Then the father said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”’

A father's love

The Father’s response is firm but gentle and affirming to the second son. There is a place for everyone at God’s table including those who believe themselves to have been faithful all their lives. But, there is a special place for those who feel awkward, excluded, judged and unsure. This is not about ‘opening the floodgate’ to everyone and anything. It is about the practice of a compassionate reaching out to those who come to us in search of meaning, understanding, acceptance, inclusion and encouragement in their journey. Are we up to this challenge? If we are honest with ourselves we will admit that we are the prodigal daughters and sons who need acceptance, understanding and encouragement. We receive these gifts when we are ready to given them to other prodigals. There is no shame in forgiving or in being forgiven. Rather, shame is a sign of hurt that is not healed.  We need to practice mercy as much as receive it. Indeed, it is party time.  Laetare Sunday can be every Sunday – a time of mercy, visitation, renewal.

But why?

 ‘… If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down...’ (Luke 13:9)

Luke 13:1-9 (Year C: Lent 3)

Once upon a time a teacher of theology asked ‘Does God suffer?’ to which a student replied ‘Do people suffer?’. 

That people suffer is plain to everyone. That some people suffer enormously over all statistical averages is also plain to see. But, why? I have wondered too.

After a lifetime of observation it seems to me that there is no clear answer to this particular question (why people suffer as much as they do). Sure enough, much human suffering is caused by selfishness, cruelty and corruption. Sometimes those perpetrating violence that brings enormous sufferings to others may deny or rationalise it.  Even if the indiscriminate dropping of bombs from the air on densely populated cities may be rationalised as ‘less worse’ than some alternative scenario (history is full of such examples) it must surely be the case that at least some pilots, generals and other technical staff involved in bombing missions or other acts of war were traumatised by what they had done – quite apart from the unspeakable suffering of those on the ground surviving or maimed or dead. And, closer to home, there are some who have also perpetrated war in the name of a cause with terrible consequences for others that we do not hear so much about these days.

Then there is suffering caused by life and all that goes with it – getting sick, receiving a bad prognosis, seeing a loved one slip into dementia or natural catastrophes that fall upon people – good people.  Every so often some voice is raised ‘Why would your God allow such terrible things to happen?’. Those of us who believe in an infinitely compassionate and loving God, if we are honest, have no convincing or logically water-tight answer to this question. What we do know and can practice is compassion in a cruel world marked for the most part by people who are generous, courageous and virtuous.

bad things happen to good people...

When Jesus was confronted with stories of what happened in the massacre of the Galileans where the Roman soldiers ran amuck or ‘those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them’ he had to be honest with those listening.  Those listening including not a few listening today in parts of the world and the church will have notions of a fierce, vengeful and detached God who enforces cruel justice and punishes those who sin.  For these folk, wars, epidemics and various sufferings were and are the price of sin.  We are reminded of the question posed to Jesus in John 9:2 ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’.  But, in the gospel of Luke we are not told that Jesus assigned responsibility for this suffering on the victims who had broken God’s law. We know enough from reading all of the gospels and not least that of Luke that God, in Jesus Christ, came not to condemn, not to punish, not to afflict but to save, to heal and to restore.  However, suffering is the reality for all human beings and some much more than others. The point is that Jesus knew how to draw from his suffering the very power that would not deliver us from suffering here and now but lead us to a place of acceptance and conquest. ‘Bearing with it’ was not the message for those who were poor, excluded and despised as a result but rather ‘woe to you rich’ (Luke 6:24) who deprive others of goods, power and respect.

In other words we are responsible in our ways, whether we like it or not, for needless suffering as a result of things we have said and done and things we failed to say and do that we should have done. Put another way, we are individually responsible for some degree of injustice and damage in our personal relationships whether at home or at work or somewhere else.  But, the story does not end there. There is ‘structural sin’ embedded in the way that societies and polities are constructed and in the way that relationships of power and dominance operate in this world.  In a way, we can be part of, and responsible for, that too. Perhaps the saddest aspect of this type of ‘structural sin’ is that we may do it in the name of God or some other cause because we have never engaged with an alternative story or possibility. We can sit in armchairs observing the world and pontificating on how others should live not really knowing anything of their sufferings or never having faced the difficult question of how one would think or feel if this or that happened to oneself or one’s family. The saying ‘don’t knock it unless you’ve tried it’ could be rephrased ‘don’t knock it unless you have been through it yourself’. Indeed.

To say all of this is not to avoid one of the key messages in this text and which is built on a separate question of ‘why do good people suffer?’, namely: if we do not turn from lies, selfishness and cruelty towards others then we, too, will experience huge suffering and destruction (perishing). For ‘unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did’ Jesus tells us (verse 5). Life is short and eternity is long as one saying goes.  In this life we have a beautiful opportunity to live by truth, goodness and beauty. The passing of years and the experience of bereavement involving one’s parents or even the next generation – our generation – brings home the reality that life is precious and to be embraced in the here and now. The question of ‘life after death’ needs to be matched with the question of ‘life before death’.  On the latter question we can, hopefully, agree with people who do not hope beyond death. Ours is not to force our values and views on others but rather live in such a way that these same values and beliefs we say we stand by are curious, attractive, meaningful and life-giving for others – including those who given up believing and hoping a long time ago.

our time is precious...
In hearing this gospel we are reminded that our lives are precious, that there is no room for complacency and that time is constantly getting shorter. This is not a reason for gloom or neurotic anxiety about this sin or that sin, about this broken relationship or that broken relationship or about this omission and that omission. There are remedies for failure. These include a stubborn trusting in God’s mercy and help no matter what. They also include recourse to those means of grace that God puts in our way: a walk in the mountains, sharing a cup of tea with someone, a book, a project. Add to this times of grace spent in reflection, prayerful reading of the great poetry and stories of the Bible and confession.  Confession?  The Irish took the blame for inventing individual auricular confession but the practice has biblical roots.  Leave it like this:

• All may
• Some should
• None have to

In the story or parable of the fig tree we are told figuratively that following three years of trial the vines were given another year to bear fruit or face being ‘cut down’. In three year’s time a few of us may not be around to hear this particular Gospel reading on the 3^rd Sunday of Lent (Year C).  Most of us will be around but of one thing we can be sure – if we live we will be three years closer to death.  The time for repentance or metanoia in Greek – is now. A metanoia of heart, mind, attitude and behaviour now.  That is the key message in this week’s reading from Luke. The now of the Gospel.

Many are the regrets of some as they enter the final third of their living years. But, one regret we will not have is that we loved too much and lovingly gave away too much whether by virtue of time, money and our very own lives. The question of human suffering is seen for what it is – a call to compassion.

postscript

The story is told of someone who was about to quit a very busy career at fifty something and said ‘I am burnt out, cynical and have nothing further to contribute. Anyway look at my age’.  A kind friend two decades older than her said: ‘if only I was your age again’.  

One of those moments

 ‘… When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent..’ (Luke 9:36)

Luke 9:28-36 (Year C: Lent 2)

                                                        http://www.biblewalks.com/Sites/tabor.html

 (The choice of Gospel reading for this Sunday – 21^st February 2016 – is aligned with the cycle of readings used in the Roman Catholic church. It is the story of the Transfiguration. Last year it was the turn of Mark to tell the Transfiguration story (Basking in the Sunshine or should we say Sonshine?!).  This year it is the turn of Luke. The choice of reading, here, differs from other cycles such as the Revised Common Lectionary where the story of the Transfiguration is told on the Sunday before Lent.  To paraphrase Winston Churchill the only thing that divides us now is the English language and the cycle of Sunday readings once or twice a year!).

Standing back from it all

Every now and again we need to be taken out of our routine comfort zones and be surprised by joy.  This happened to Peter, John and James on a mountain top where Jesus took them. Mountains were always favourite places for dreamers, poets and wise persons.  The Irish landscape is dotted with stone arrangements on hill tops showing us that our ancestors had a special connection with these places and what lies beyond (or below). In some parts of the world it has been customary for monastic communities to pitch their ‘tent’ on high ground. Indeed, the site of the story of the transfiguration is believed to be Mount Tabor – a two hour walk from Jesus’ home village of Nazareth and about 25 kilometres from the southern shores of Lake Galilee which lay to the East of Mount Tabor. No doubt Jesus had been there many times before and beheld the beauty of the surrounding countryside as he marked out with his eye the places where he grew up.  In all likelihood Jesus and his three friends made the ascent early in the morning before the heat of noonday and on a good day with a blue sky as one does in such warm and exposed climates.

And taking time out

Above it all whether on Cave Hill in Belfast or Killakee in Dublin people can look down on the city and spot their dwelling, place of work or some other landmark.  There is a peace in looking at a city where 100,000s go about their busy lives. The gentle hum of traffic in the distance only adds to a sense of peace. Sundays can be a good day to take off for high ground especially if it is dry and sunny which it can happen at least two to three weekends a year in Ireland! There you will find the serious walking club folk, the odd couple arguing about finances and children or something else, the other odd couple debating the general election, the overseas visitor marvelling at forty shades of green, the boisterous troop of scouts and the loner in search of peace.

We don’t need to travel alone

Jesus needed a break in the midst of a busy ministry in Galilee. He had a strong sense that his time of extreme tribulation was nearing and he had warned his friends about this just before the mountain experience. He needed to draw apart for a little while and pray – with three chosen disciples (might there be a theological significance in bringing three to what was to be revealed?).  So, Jesus went up the mountain to pray – for his disciples and everyone else. There, a response was given to the witnessing disciples: ‘Listen to him!’ (v.35). We don’t need to climb mountains alone or keep those glory moments to ourselves. The Christ’s religion is a community religion. We travel with others and never alone.

Comfort religion?

Key to understanding the Transfiguration is what happens just before it. Some eight days before (to quote Luke) Jesus has a very frank conversation with his friends. Not only was Jesus himself faced with death and rising again but, he went on to tell them

‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.' (Luke 9:23)

We may note that in the Transfiguration the highly significant persons of Moses and Elijah and appear and disappear to leave the disciples standing with Jesus, alone.  Readers of Luke in around 80 A.D. would not have missed the point that the old order or religion is giving way to a new deal – one in which the Messiah has come and it is to his voice that we now listen for that life that surpasses our greatest dreams.  Moses and Elijah are not cancelled out; rather their ministry is now done and taken up into the work of Jesus, the Son of God. The transfiguration story reaches back in time to the ‘exodus’ of the chosen people (the Greek word for ‘departure’ cited in verse 31 – ‘They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem’) and it reaches forward to a new covenant between the nations of the world and the Messiah.  But, first there must be a time of great suffering and passing from the old to the new order. The disciples Peter, James and John have been warned already before ascending the mountain that they, too, would suffer like Jesus.  But, this does not stop Peter proposing the erection of three ‘tents’ (this links to the Jewish festival of Tabernacles recalling the time when the Hebrews wandered for 40 years in the desert).  But, clinging to Moses and Elijah (the good old order) as well as clinging to that extraordinary and glorious scene on the top of this mountain will not do. The point of the story is that we only have Jesus to cling to now and Moses and Elijah, for the benefits of Luke’s readers in the 80’s, confirm this. Put another way, the Transfiguration offers little by way of ‘comfort religion’ either then or now.

From glory to agony and back again

The story of the transfiguration is also a story about journeys.  To climb a mountain with one’s friends and experience, there, the mysteries of God’s glory is one thing. To come down from that mountain and face certain death is another. This is the point of the story.  We need moments of ‘glory’ and deep, replenishing joy. Deep joy. This is our food and our strength for the journey that lies ahead. The transfiguration was a dress rehearsal for the Agony in the Garden on the eve of Jesus’ crucifixion (Luke 22:39-46).  We note the strong parallels: a mountain; Jesus with the very same Peter, James and John; people sleeping while another prays; conversation; foreboding and heavenly comfort. Life has a funny habit of repeating itself.

But, what if we are stuck in a cloud on the top of the mountain (a particularly frequent occurrence on Irish mountains where all three and a half seasons can happen in the space of a few hours!).?  We stay put and listen.  In another story that has strong parallels to the transfiguration we read that (Exodus 40:34-38):

 Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.  Moses was not able to enter the tent of meeting because the cloud settled upon it, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle. Whenever the cloud was taken up from the tabernacle, the Israelites would set out on each stage of their journey; but if the cloud was not taken up, then they did not set out until the day that it was taken up. For the cloud of the Lord was on the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, before the eyes of all the house of Israel at each stage of their journey.

Into the cloud of unknowing

The cloud represents the presence of God. But, very often in our lives we are stuck in a ‘cloud of unknowing’ (also the title of a work of an English mystic in the late 14^th century and which should be read by everyone at least once in a lifetime). Ours is a state of not knowing what next or who or where. The temptation is to try to remain fixed or fixated in a moment of glory and consolation. Some seek solace in narcotics, food, etc. Others seek solace in ‘religion’ and ‘spirituality’. Each is understandable. We are only human. But, the real deal is not this or that thing or person or relationship: it is the love of God that speaks to us in silence in the depths of our hearts in this cloud of unknowing. And when the cloud lifts we move on.

The reality is that we may find ourselves alone and confused in a cloud of unknowing but it is only afterwards we see that we were not alone. There is a lesson here each time. At the time of unknowing we were greatly afraid just like the disciples. Then we saw back like on CCTV that there was nothing to be afraid of.  We should savour and recall such moments of realisation and insight afterwards but not cling on to them. These moments enable us to move on and embrace what lies ahead. 

(could we also name Transfiguration Sunday Fortification Sunday. God knows we need it)

Postscript

Did that ‘man with a mission’, Pádraig Pearse, get inspiration from Sunday walks in Killakee above Scoil Éanna where he taught when he penned the line ‘this road ahead of me’.? Or, indeed, did that other Dublin ‘man with a mission’ of ‘who shall separate us fame’, Edward Carson, draw inspiration from the Dublin mountains overlooking Wesley College where he went to school? We will never know. Beware of ‘men with a mission’!