The next day the great crowd that had come for the festival heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting,
“Hosanna!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Blessed is the king of Israel!”
Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, as it is written: “Do not be afraid, Daughter Zion;
see, your king is coming, seated on a donkey’s colt.”
At first his disciples did not understand all this. Only after Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him and that these things had been done to him.
************************************************************************
Just shy of a month ago, cities around the world celebrated Ireland and the Irish with parades. It seems like we have parades whenever celebrations of something are in order. How many military parades do we see when a country wants to demonstrate its might, or celebrate winning a war; or on national days like Canada Day? We have Santa Claus parades, and Easter parades, and how often do we really think about what they are for, or even where they started?
In New York, in 1838 - a whole lot of small groups decided to have one big parade. The purposes, for aid to poor Irish. It wasn’t anything to do with Irish nationalism, like it’s become now - but was designed to be a support to Irish immigrants. It wasn’t even anything to do with St. Patrick, either....just that he happened to be the patron saint of Ireland, and it seemed like a good idea.
The movie “Kundun” is the story of the escape of the Dalai Lama from Tibet into India. There is a scene where the Chinese troops come marching into Tibet waving flags and singing songs of how liberated and free the Tibetan people will be. It is a show of military might, under the leadership of Chairman Mao. Far from bringing freedom to the Tibetans, it brought oppression and repression. China annexed a country which had been independent, and killed thousands of its citizens. There is again an outbreak of violence to try to push the Chinese oppressors out. The world turned a blind eye as the Chinese brought in thousands of its own poor citizens and relocated them on Tibetan land to farm. Pretty much what the Romans did to the Jews, and of course, with a parade at the Passover, to reinforce their might and the fact that they were in control in the occupied land.
In Jerusalem, there would have been two parades - and you can bet the citizens of the city knew exactly what each one meant. Jerusalem was a huge city - and there were several entrance gates on all sides. Passover was coming, it was the highest of the high Holy Days, the streets were full of people who had come from all over the known world to Jerusalem. The Passover was the celebration of their liberation from slavery in Egypt, and the rebuilding of the temple. Yet they celebrate that liberation under the rule of the Roman occupation. Hardly freedom.
On the west side of the city, Pontius Pilate would be riding into Jerusalem with an entire Roman legion, blaring trumpets, powerful horses and armour. It would have been a massive display of Rome’s power, to intimidate any Jews who might think of trying to stir up rebellion. Jerusalem was under Roman authority, perhaps even with the collusion by the temple authorities; it would be a display intended to “keep the peace” in the Roman occupation, given that there would have been outbreaks of violence at Passover, trying to stir up nationalism and force the Romans out.
In through the east gate, up from the Jordan Valley, and following the route the ancient Hebrews had taken in their flight from Egypt to the promised land, comes Jesus, just a country rabbi riding a donkey, and accompanied by group of followers who wave branches and spread rough cloaks along the path.
What a contrast to the Roman display of authority! And yet, as the shouts of Hosanna grow, more and more people would come to see what was happening, and get caught up in the moment - perhaps a hope of freedom from the oppressive authorities - and with the crowds, the potential for violence. They cry out “Hosanna”, which in Hebrew means “Save us!!!” Our opening hymn this morning, “Hosanna, loud Hosanna the little children sang!” Even the little children were running along, waving palms and shouting “Save us!!!”. Think about it for a moment - if Jesus were able to overthrow the Romans, even the temple authorities would not have any power any longer, for he would be king, judge, ruler even over them....
As Jesus rode along, the whole city was in turmoil, with everyone asking the same question, whispering to each other, “Who is this? ...he rides a donkey”. So did Judah Maccabeus, the other martyr and king of the Jewish people. So they cut branches and spread them on the ground. Double confirmation of the identity of Jesus - a new king has arrived, the saviour who would lead an army to liberate the Jews from the Romans.
...each of the Gospels makes it appear as if all of Jerusalem is affected by the coming of Jesus, as if an earthquake has struck. It is a “seismic” event, the same kind of reaction Herod had 30 years earlier when some Zoroastrian astronomers ask about the new King of the Jews.
Even if everyone does not understand who Jesus is, they have very clear expectations of what the Messiah is going to do and how he will act, because they remember the stories of King David. But what they expect is not what they get.
Amidst all of the commotion and confusion, the waving and shouting of hosannas, we also hear a second theme - what we call in the church, the passion - anger and hatred coming to a sham trial and death. We can hardly hear it at first, but it doesn’t take long for it to crescendo into a deafening roar. We are shocked as the events unfold. A plot is hatched, a death-pact made. We get glimpses - a woman spills a bottle of perfume over Jesus’ feet; she is criticised by the others. Jesus praises her and calls it a burial anointing. A private prayer meeting is broken up by some zealous vigilantes. The disciples, in a moment of panic, scatter like tightly packed seeds that explode from a pod. A single disciple follows from a safe distance, but then denies three times that he’s never even met the man that the religious leaders have dragged in.
The country rabbi sparks such anger among the temple authorities, shaking their foundations of comfort and alliance, that they manipulate to ensure he is put to death instead. They are not allowed to kill - there is that commandment which is their law. So they can find a way to arrange for the Romans to do it instead, thinking that means their hands are clean . Triumphantly, the temple authorities think they have removed the threat to their power. Their people remain under their thumbs, and all remain under Roman rule.
You know, more people live on the dark side of Good Friday than on the sunny side of Easter. On this side of Easter, there is no resurrection sought or conceived of, only suffering. There is a parade of palms followed by a parade with a cross. Many people live on this side of Easter all the time.
Mary Cardell was an elderly woman who lived alone in an Atlanta welfare hotel, and her only two comforts in life were a bottle and a pen. When she was discovered, she had already been dead several days. With the bottle she eased her pain; with the pen she wrote about her thoughts and feelings. Eventually the bottle became more demanding than the rent, and one day she was evicted from her room. She tried to find a place to spend the night, but there was alcohol on her breath, and no one would take her in. When they found her, her body was in a litter-filled field of weeds, cold and blue, and there was a note beside her. Mary had written, "I have nowhere to go, and there is no one to understand. God is not dead. He is only sleeping, but sleeping very soundly." How many stories like this are there, buried under the noise and celebration of our parades? How many have died in so many places, as the parades of military might grind over them? How many are yet to die, for a misplaced notion of “our” freedom?
To the disciples, once the noise of the celebrations was gone and the week was over, God was indeed sleeping very soundly. The death of Jesus seemed to be so stupid and senseless. Did they, in the midst of that, remember even before the big parade - that Jesus had said about Lazarus “he is only asleep.”? Did they go back over the events in their minds, trying to figure out how the victory parade ended up where it did? Did they wonder how this could ever represent any kind of freedom for them?
They were confused by the events. "But I thought--we all thought--that he was going to bring in God’s Kingdom," Peter might have said. "I mean, I still remember his words, ‘The right time has come,’ he said, ‘and the Realm of God is near.’
Our faith tells us that more was tied up in the person of Jesus than another statistic of Roman crucifixion. Jesus rides through our Palm Sunday parade, but what word can we hear? Is the noise of the mighty machine so loud that he is drowned out? Can we hear him telling us he has not come as a mighty Messiah to meet us in strength, but that he has come as a person, to meet us in the very fragility of being human, he has come to meet us at the depth of our human suffering, and show us how to walk through that suffering to a place in which celebration does not end, and freedom is real, for everyone. Do we take that word of hope to those people who only know the dark side of the cross??? What do we do after the parades are over???
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
“Grains of Wheat” March 25 2012 Fifth Sunday in Lent John 12:20-33 Humber United Church
Now there were some Greeks among those who went up to worship at the festival. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, with a request. “Sir,” they said, “we would like to see Jesus.” Philip went to tell Andrew; Andrew and Philip in turn told Jesus.
Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.
“Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!”
Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.” The crowd that was there and heard it said it had thundered; others said an angel had spoken to him.
Jesus said, “This voice was for your benefit, not mine. Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up[a] from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die.
***********************************************************************
In the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Toula’s father comments: “Nice Greek girls are supposed to do three things in life. Marry a nice Greek boy, make babies, and feed everyone till the day we die.” Day after day, Toula, who is already thirty-something, toils in the family Greek diner, lank hair and a baggy dress. Then one day a handsome, sensitive, artsy guy named Ian walks in. Ian is definitely not a Greek name. Toula’s Mr. Right becomes her parents’ Mr. Wrong. Her father wonders aloud of Toula’s fiancé. “Is he a good boy? I donnn’t know. Is he from good family? Is he respectful? I donnn’t know.” The “Us” and “Them” screech and collide throughout the story. Ian’s uppity parents writhe in embarrassment as they arrive at the get-acquainted party. The limo pulls up to the curb and there, amidst modest suburbs homes, is Toula’s house, a miniature version of the Parthenon replete with Corinthian columns and statues and - horror of horrors - a lamb roasting on the front lawn.
In the end, this uptight WASP family finds in the Greeks a robust and exotic community, and both cultures are able to move beyond their initial reactions to form a new family. But you just never know what will happen when the Greeks arrive.
...and here’s where John’s Gospel takes us. The Greeks arrived. They heard about Jesus, they went to Philip and asked to see him. Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus that “some Greeks” wanted to see him. Jesus answered them, "The hour has come for the Son of Humanity to find glory. I am telling you the truth, unless a seed falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single seed; but if it dies, it becomes much more. Whoever serves me must follow me.”
Now I’ve left out some parts, of course, because John was working hard to establish his very particular view of who Jesus was and why Jesus had come. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke work hard to place Jesus in the line of Adam and David, with God as his Father, thus giving him more honour than anyone else in that society - elevating Jesus and leaving him there at the top. John also works equally hard to show us Jesus at the top of the ‘honour’ pyramid, but that Jesus then turns the whole notion of honour and fame on its ear.
Too often we go through these readings, and either think we understand what’s being said, or don’t understand at all, but are afraid to say so. Clergy haven’t been really good about helping congregations get hold of the readings. Biblical literalists will tell you “it says what it says.” thereby placing something from another culture into our own cultural and linguistic context, instead of putting it where it should be - its own historical and cultural context.
Jewish culture, then and now, is called an “honour-shame” culture. Richard Rohrbaugh is Paul S. Wright Professor Emeritus of Christian Studies at Lewis and Clark College. He has spent a lifetime studying the social dynamics of the Middle East, both currently and in Biblical times.
As he describes it, honour was and is the central value in relationships in the Middle East, and was and is incredibly intricate in its workings. Honour is earned by your family and you add to it or diminish it by your behaviour, which is assessed and assigned in highly complex ways. Honour is given according to your age, and your position in society. Perhaps a good modern example of such a society would be Japan....for even as Japan *looks* very Western, the culture of honour and shame runs far deeper than we in the west understand.
Jesus was referred to by Paul as a “priest of Melchizedek.” Melchizedek is the oldest high priest and/or king in the Torah, therefore his order is most honoured of all. The fact that little is known about him is irrelevant in this system -- his honour is established. Period. Melchizedek was the high priest/king of Salem = Shalom = Peace. In other words, he was the King of Peace. Some interpretations have Melchizedek, the King of Peace, being God, and hence Jesus was called the Prince of Peace.
Now, in this cultural context Jesus - as a high priest in the order of Melchizedek - should have been associating *only* with particular people, on the same honour level as himself. So the fact that he associated with all kinds of people at every level of life meant that he acted absolutely shamefully. There is a point where even his family rejects him - remember they are of the line of David, and although not wealthy, connected to royalty. Jesus scandalized the religious leaders with his teachings that the true Realm of God was a place designated first for those designated as dishonourable. He associated with the worst of the riff raff, the prostitutes, sinners, tax collectors, lepers. Being seen in their company, drinking and laughing, would have started rumours about every single aspect of his life, even his sexual life - thereby dishonouring his father and mother and breaking the law of Torah. When Jesus preached “the Beatitudes” in this context, he preached a manifesto that set the honour system upside down.
Jesus says “follow me and you will be honoured by God.” In other words, he says “Turn the social system upside down, because it’s not what God ever had in mind. All this structure of ‘place’ and ‘honour’ in society is nothing - do what I do, do what I teach, and you will be honoured by the one who counts most - God.”
When Jesus hears that some Greeks want to see him, he talks about “grains of wheat” not being able to produce anything until they are first planted in the earth. Philip isn’t sure what Jesus’ approach to ‘outsiders’ would have been, so he goes and gets a couple of others, and bingo they have a Session, who get to decide who is in and who is out. Well, instead of sending the new people away, they at least have the sense to go and ask. Can you imagine how differently the story would have turned out if Peter had been the usher the day the Greeks came to Jesus, (given Peter’s tendency to shoot op eds from the hip)? “Little far from the Acropolis, aren’t we, boys? What? You want to meet Jesus? Well, ours is an exclusive group, see? No cross-cultural sharing here.” This episode probably wouldn’t have made it in the gospel at all. Peter and Greeks would have mixed about as well as Ian’s and Toula’s parents! Just like oil and water.
It is totally astonishing to me that Philip and Andrew are unsure of Jesus’ policy toward Greeks. Maybe this is a boundary issue story. An Emerging Church boundary issue. We don’t dare go where angels fear to tread. After all, maybe Jesus only invites certain people into the group. So they wonder. Jewish? Yes. Hellenized Jews? Most probably. God-fearers? Maybe—with a little catechism. But out and out Greeks?
But Jesus turns the expected upside down once again. Doesn’t matter if they’re one of us racially or religiously. Doesn’t matter if they understand all the laws or purity or honour or shame or anything else. None of those things matter. Seeds cannot grow unless they first are planted in the ground and die, to become something new and different, in a different way than the origins.
I think Jesus is addressing a second thing here, which relates to the first. Seeds can only grow into flowering plants if they first die. So, the person who works to ensure the ‘death’ of the old self, and follows the *way* of Jesus, will produce much fruit which will then be taken out into the rest of the world.
Jesus was also talking about himself - that in order to bear fruit he had to die. But once again, we also need to recognise context. Bruce Chilton, author of the book “Rabbi Jesus”, points out that the concept of being raised from the dead was an intrinsic part of Jewish teaching. Jesus was only passing on what was included in Talmud, and taught with regularity (Daniel, Leviticus). However, in typical Jesus fashion, he put a twist on it. He taught that resurrected humanity was like angels, and by doing so was once again engaging in theological debate with the religious leaders. By stating this, he literally said to the Pharisees that resurrection was *not* a physical resuscitation of all those who had died. He refuted the teaching of the religious leaders. He clearly *denied* that anyone would be resurrected in the same body as they died in - it was, and is, a physical impossibility. But, he answered the question posed in Ecclesiastes “Who knows whether the spirit of people goes up above, and whether the spirit of beasts goes under the earth?” Jesus recognised that the direction of one’s spirit is within one’s power to influence before death. - hence recognising the Spirit of God within each person, even ourselves, was literally a matter of life and death. And he sets up a dialogue which we see in Paul’s writing to the Corinthians about death and resurrection - I think he also hopes his disciples will remember this particular conversation on the third day.
Once these things are put together, a picture of the kind of abrasive personality Jesus could be emerges more clearly for me. In what seems to be a relatively simple saying, he literally says first turn the social system upside down, and then turn the religious belief system upside down. At every level he is challenges the established law and teaching, and says that’s not what God intended. To me, these are the “seeds of life”, the “grains of wheat” Jesus talks about in his reference to resurrection. The seeds of life which will bear much fruit are within each of us. What fruit will we bear, what divine power will we tap into? Who are the Greeks in our world today? How do we meet the Greeks in the clash of cultures - the churched and the non-churched, those who want to explore, and have questions, but aren’t “us”? When they start asking questions about birth, life, death and resurrection - what will we say? Will we give them the pat answers that say nothing? Or will we recognise that seeds have already been planted, and need a place to be free to be nurtured, and grow? Will we recognise that what comes up out of the soil will never be the same as what went in.....and that God knows?
Sources:
1. “Seeds of Life” Hebrews 5:5, John 12:20-33 Fifth in Lent 2006 Year B by Rev. Fran Ota
2. “The Greek Mizzion” John 12: 20-33, Lent 5 Year B, by Rev. Thomas Hall
3. Chilton, Bruce. “Rabbi Jesus: An Intimate Biography”. Random House, New York. 2002.
Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.
“Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!”
Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.” The crowd that was there and heard it said it had thundered; others said an angel had spoken to him.
Jesus said, “This voice was for your benefit, not mine. Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up[a] from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die.
***********************************************************************
In the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Toula’s father comments: “Nice Greek girls are supposed to do three things in life. Marry a nice Greek boy, make babies, and feed everyone till the day we die.” Day after day, Toula, who is already thirty-something, toils in the family Greek diner, lank hair and a baggy dress. Then one day a handsome, sensitive, artsy guy named Ian walks in. Ian is definitely not a Greek name. Toula’s Mr. Right becomes her parents’ Mr. Wrong. Her father wonders aloud of Toula’s fiancé. “Is he a good boy? I donnn’t know. Is he from good family? Is he respectful? I donnn’t know.” The “Us” and “Them” screech and collide throughout the story. Ian’s uppity parents writhe in embarrassment as they arrive at the get-acquainted party. The limo pulls up to the curb and there, amidst modest suburbs homes, is Toula’s house, a miniature version of the Parthenon replete with Corinthian columns and statues and - horror of horrors - a lamb roasting on the front lawn.
In the end, this uptight WASP family finds in the Greeks a robust and exotic community, and both cultures are able to move beyond their initial reactions to form a new family. But you just never know what will happen when the Greeks arrive.
...and here’s where John’s Gospel takes us. The Greeks arrived. They heard about Jesus, they went to Philip and asked to see him. Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus that “some Greeks” wanted to see him. Jesus answered them, "The hour has come for the Son of Humanity to find glory. I am telling you the truth, unless a seed falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single seed; but if it dies, it becomes much more. Whoever serves me must follow me.”
Now I’ve left out some parts, of course, because John was working hard to establish his very particular view of who Jesus was and why Jesus had come. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke work hard to place Jesus in the line of Adam and David, with God as his Father, thus giving him more honour than anyone else in that society - elevating Jesus and leaving him there at the top. John also works equally hard to show us Jesus at the top of the ‘honour’ pyramid, but that Jesus then turns the whole notion of honour and fame on its ear.
Too often we go through these readings, and either think we understand what’s being said, or don’t understand at all, but are afraid to say so. Clergy haven’t been really good about helping congregations get hold of the readings. Biblical literalists will tell you “it says what it says.” thereby placing something from another culture into our own cultural and linguistic context, instead of putting it where it should be - its own historical and cultural context.
Jewish culture, then and now, is called an “honour-shame” culture. Richard Rohrbaugh is Paul S. Wright Professor Emeritus of Christian Studies at Lewis and Clark College. He has spent a lifetime studying the social dynamics of the Middle East, both currently and in Biblical times.
As he describes it, honour was and is the central value in relationships in the Middle East, and was and is incredibly intricate in its workings. Honour is earned by your family and you add to it or diminish it by your behaviour, which is assessed and assigned in highly complex ways. Honour is given according to your age, and your position in society. Perhaps a good modern example of such a society would be Japan....for even as Japan *looks* very Western, the culture of honour and shame runs far deeper than we in the west understand.
Jesus was referred to by Paul as a “priest of Melchizedek.” Melchizedek is the oldest high priest and/or king in the Torah, therefore his order is most honoured of all. The fact that little is known about him is irrelevant in this system -- his honour is established. Period. Melchizedek was the high priest/king of Salem = Shalom = Peace. In other words, he was the King of Peace. Some interpretations have Melchizedek, the King of Peace, being God, and hence Jesus was called the Prince of Peace.
Now, in this cultural context Jesus - as a high priest in the order of Melchizedek - should have been associating *only* with particular people, on the same honour level as himself. So the fact that he associated with all kinds of people at every level of life meant that he acted absolutely shamefully. There is a point where even his family rejects him - remember they are of the line of David, and although not wealthy, connected to royalty. Jesus scandalized the religious leaders with his teachings that the true Realm of God was a place designated first for those designated as dishonourable. He associated with the worst of the riff raff, the prostitutes, sinners, tax collectors, lepers. Being seen in their company, drinking and laughing, would have started rumours about every single aspect of his life, even his sexual life - thereby dishonouring his father and mother and breaking the law of Torah. When Jesus preached “the Beatitudes” in this context, he preached a manifesto that set the honour system upside down.
Jesus says “follow me and you will be honoured by God.” In other words, he says “Turn the social system upside down, because it’s not what God ever had in mind. All this structure of ‘place’ and ‘honour’ in society is nothing - do what I do, do what I teach, and you will be honoured by the one who counts most - God.”
When Jesus hears that some Greeks want to see him, he talks about “grains of wheat” not being able to produce anything until they are first planted in the earth. Philip isn’t sure what Jesus’ approach to ‘outsiders’ would have been, so he goes and gets a couple of others, and bingo they have a Session, who get to decide who is in and who is out. Well, instead of sending the new people away, they at least have the sense to go and ask. Can you imagine how differently the story would have turned out if Peter had been the usher the day the Greeks came to Jesus, (given Peter’s tendency to shoot op eds from the hip)? “Little far from the Acropolis, aren’t we, boys? What? You want to meet Jesus? Well, ours is an exclusive group, see? No cross-cultural sharing here.” This episode probably wouldn’t have made it in the gospel at all. Peter and Greeks would have mixed about as well as Ian’s and Toula’s parents! Just like oil and water.
It is totally astonishing to me that Philip and Andrew are unsure of Jesus’ policy toward Greeks. Maybe this is a boundary issue story. An Emerging Church boundary issue. We don’t dare go where angels fear to tread. After all, maybe Jesus only invites certain people into the group. So they wonder. Jewish? Yes. Hellenized Jews? Most probably. God-fearers? Maybe—with a little catechism. But out and out Greeks?
But Jesus turns the expected upside down once again. Doesn’t matter if they’re one of us racially or religiously. Doesn’t matter if they understand all the laws or purity or honour or shame or anything else. None of those things matter. Seeds cannot grow unless they first are planted in the ground and die, to become something new and different, in a different way than the origins.
I think Jesus is addressing a second thing here, which relates to the first. Seeds can only grow into flowering plants if they first die. So, the person who works to ensure the ‘death’ of the old self, and follows the *way* of Jesus, will produce much fruit which will then be taken out into the rest of the world.
Jesus was also talking about himself - that in order to bear fruit he had to die. But once again, we also need to recognise context. Bruce Chilton, author of the book “Rabbi Jesus”, points out that the concept of being raised from the dead was an intrinsic part of Jewish teaching. Jesus was only passing on what was included in Talmud, and taught with regularity (Daniel, Leviticus). However, in typical Jesus fashion, he put a twist on it. He taught that resurrected humanity was like angels, and by doing so was once again engaging in theological debate with the religious leaders. By stating this, he literally said to the Pharisees that resurrection was *not* a physical resuscitation of all those who had died. He refuted the teaching of the religious leaders. He clearly *denied* that anyone would be resurrected in the same body as they died in - it was, and is, a physical impossibility. But, he answered the question posed in Ecclesiastes “Who knows whether the spirit of people goes up above, and whether the spirit of beasts goes under the earth?” Jesus recognised that the direction of one’s spirit is within one’s power to influence before death. - hence recognising the Spirit of God within each person, even ourselves, was literally a matter of life and death. And he sets up a dialogue which we see in Paul’s writing to the Corinthians about death and resurrection - I think he also hopes his disciples will remember this particular conversation on the third day.
Once these things are put together, a picture of the kind of abrasive personality Jesus could be emerges more clearly for me. In what seems to be a relatively simple saying, he literally says first turn the social system upside down, and then turn the religious belief system upside down. At every level he is challenges the established law and teaching, and says that’s not what God intended. To me, these are the “seeds of life”, the “grains of wheat” Jesus talks about in his reference to resurrection. The seeds of life which will bear much fruit are within each of us. What fruit will we bear, what divine power will we tap into? Who are the Greeks in our world today? How do we meet the Greeks in the clash of cultures - the churched and the non-churched, those who want to explore, and have questions, but aren’t “us”? When they start asking questions about birth, life, death and resurrection - what will we say? Will we give them the pat answers that say nothing? Or will we recognise that seeds have already been planted, and need a place to be free to be nurtured, and grow? Will we recognise that what comes up out of the soil will never be the same as what went in.....and that God knows?
Sources:
1. “Seeds of Life” Hebrews 5:5, John 12:20-33 Fifth in Lent 2006 Year B by Rev. Fran Ota
2. “The Greek Mizzion” John 12: 20-33, Lent 5 Year B, by Rev. Thomas Hall
3. Chilton, Bruce. “Rabbi Jesus: An Intimate Biography”. Random House, New York. 2002.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
"Lives of Commitment" March 18, 2012 The Feast of St. Patrick
Well, we’ve done the green beer, the colcannon and Guinness stew, the parades and dancing and jokes and celebration are over. How did we manage to go from celebrating the life of someone committed to faith, to celebrating beer and whiskey and funny songs and jokes? Like so much of our church history, we’ve forgotten where some things came from and ended up focussing on the less important parts of the celebration.
Our scriptures say nothing about shillelaghs, shamrocks or even about snakes. But there is a sense of places on a sea-coast, about the preaching of Jesus, about repentance, about discipleship, and about healing; all the things that belong to the ‘evangelium’ – the good news that is the meaning of the word, gospel. Something of that sensibility belongs to the Feast of St. Patrick, the outstanding Apostle to Ireland, the bearer of the Gospel to the what he perceived as the pagan darkness of the Gaels.
In Ireland, the Feast of St. Patrick is an important day for the church and for their history. In the dioceses of Ireland, it is a solemn and holy day of obligation; and, outside of Ireland, seen as a celebration of Ireland itself.
Who was this man? In old Irish/Gaelic, he was Cothraige, in Middle Irish Pátraic; and what we mostly know now, the Irish Pádraig. He lived approximately in the last half of the fifth century, and died on March 17. Two authentic letters from him survive, and most of what we know comes from that. When he was about 16, he was captured from Wales by Irish raiders and taken as a slave to Ireland, where he lived for six years before escaping and returning to his family. After entering the Church, he returned to Ireland as an ordained bishop in the north and west of the island.
Patrick believed he was called to minister to the people of Ireland. In his written letters, he recounts a vision: I saw a man coming, as it were from Ireland. His name was Victoricus, and he carried many letters, and he gave me one of them. I read the heading: "The Voice of the Irish". As I began the letter, I imagined in that moment that I heard the voice of those very people who were near the wood of Foclut, which is beside the western sea—and they cried out, as with one voice: "We appeal to you, holy servant boy, to come and walk among us.
Patrick writes that he baptised thousands of people, ordained priests to lead the new Christian communities, converted wealthy women, some of whom became nuns in the face of family opposition. Patrick's position as a foreigner in Ireland was not an easy one. His refusal to accept gifts from kings placed him outside the normal ties of kinship, fosterage and affinity. Legally he was without protection, and he says that he was on one occasion beaten, robbed of all he had, and put in chains, perhaps awaiting execution.
Yet although we celebrate much of the good works done by Patrick with the poor of Ireland, we have to remember that he was part of an expanding empire which treated non-believers almost as non-people. So while we celebrate an icon of the church, we need to remember the time from which he came.
One of the pieces we read today is called “St. Patrick’s Breastplate”. It comes from the writings of Paul, speaking about wearing our faith like a breastplate of armour. It is a hymn in Voices United as well, and celebrates the name of the Trinity.
The Trinity is the ‘strong name’. God is not just a remote, distant, impersonal and indifferent God in the way many people seem to think. God is a present and personal God, someone to whom we can bind ourselves, a God who has power to hold us and lead us. His eye watches us. His strength maintains us. His ear hears us.
So this is where I want to focus on the great contribution of Patrick to an understanding of faith. The Breastplate is a cry for protection made in confidence, that Jesus has been through all our human experiences. Patrick works through the Gospel story as he says, ‘I bind to myself Christ’s incarnation, baptism, death, resurrection” The power of the God who has done, and who will do all these things, is the power that is available to those who call upon him for protection.
Not only is God known through the faithful, but is known through a Creation that is filled with God’s power and energy. Patrick delights in the world around him: the starlit sky; the sun’s brightness, the moon’s whiteness; the power of lightning and storms; the reassurance of the solid earth, the massive sea and the unchanging rocks.
Remember that Patrick lived in a hostile time, where war and violence against all people were normal. Patrick believed that the world was being held by evil - as Paul said to the Ephesians, ‘our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms’.
I bind unto myself today the strong name of the Trinity;
by invocation of the same, the Three in One, and One in Three.
Many of the greats in the church whom we remember committed their lives to an expression of faith. As each generation passes, our expressions of faith may evolve, but they are grounded in a “great cloud of witnesses”....Padraig, Aidan, Brigid in Ireland; Theresa of Avila in Spain; Julian of Norwich in Great Britain; Hildegard of Bingen in Germany; to those like Pedro Claver in Colombia - for whom God was the Creator of ALL things, and all things to be treated with grace and respect. May we remember lives of commitment, and may we commit our lives as well. Amen.
Our scriptures say nothing about shillelaghs, shamrocks or even about snakes. But there is a sense of places on a sea-coast, about the preaching of Jesus, about repentance, about discipleship, and about healing; all the things that belong to the ‘evangelium’ – the good news that is the meaning of the word, gospel. Something of that sensibility belongs to the Feast of St. Patrick, the outstanding Apostle to Ireland, the bearer of the Gospel to the what he perceived as the pagan darkness of the Gaels.
In Ireland, the Feast of St. Patrick is an important day for the church and for their history. In the dioceses of Ireland, it is a solemn and holy day of obligation; and, outside of Ireland, seen as a celebration of Ireland itself.
Who was this man? In old Irish/Gaelic, he was Cothraige, in Middle Irish Pátraic; and what we mostly know now, the Irish Pádraig. He lived approximately in the last half of the fifth century, and died on March 17. Two authentic letters from him survive, and most of what we know comes from that. When he was about 16, he was captured from Wales by Irish raiders and taken as a slave to Ireland, where he lived for six years before escaping and returning to his family. After entering the Church, he returned to Ireland as an ordained bishop in the north and west of the island.
Patrick believed he was called to minister to the people of Ireland. In his written letters, he recounts a vision: I saw a man coming, as it were from Ireland. His name was Victoricus, and he carried many letters, and he gave me one of them. I read the heading: "The Voice of the Irish". As I began the letter, I imagined in that moment that I heard the voice of those very people who were near the wood of Foclut, which is beside the western sea—and they cried out, as with one voice: "We appeal to you, holy servant boy, to come and walk among us.
Patrick writes that he baptised thousands of people, ordained priests to lead the new Christian communities, converted wealthy women, some of whom became nuns in the face of family opposition. Patrick's position as a foreigner in Ireland was not an easy one. His refusal to accept gifts from kings placed him outside the normal ties of kinship, fosterage and affinity. Legally he was without protection, and he says that he was on one occasion beaten, robbed of all he had, and put in chains, perhaps awaiting execution.
Yet although we celebrate much of the good works done by Patrick with the poor of Ireland, we have to remember that he was part of an expanding empire which treated non-believers almost as non-people. So while we celebrate an icon of the church, we need to remember the time from which he came.
One of the pieces we read today is called “St. Patrick’s Breastplate”. It comes from the writings of Paul, speaking about wearing our faith like a breastplate of armour. It is a hymn in Voices United as well, and celebrates the name of the Trinity.
The Trinity is the ‘strong name’. God is not just a remote, distant, impersonal and indifferent God in the way many people seem to think. God is a present and personal God, someone to whom we can bind ourselves, a God who has power to hold us and lead us. His eye watches us. His strength maintains us. His ear hears us.
So this is where I want to focus on the great contribution of Patrick to an understanding of faith. The Breastplate is a cry for protection made in confidence, that Jesus has been through all our human experiences. Patrick works through the Gospel story as he says, ‘I bind to myself Christ’s incarnation, baptism, death, resurrection” The power of the God who has done, and who will do all these things, is the power that is available to those who call upon him for protection.
Not only is God known through the faithful, but is known through a Creation that is filled with God’s power and energy. Patrick delights in the world around him: the starlit sky; the sun’s brightness, the moon’s whiteness; the power of lightning and storms; the reassurance of the solid earth, the massive sea and the unchanging rocks.
Remember that Patrick lived in a hostile time, where war and violence against all people were normal. Patrick believed that the world was being held by evil - as Paul said to the Ephesians, ‘our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms’.
I bind unto myself today the strong name of the Trinity;
by invocation of the same, the Three in One, and One in Three.
Many of the greats in the church whom we remember committed their lives to an expression of faith. As each generation passes, our expressions of faith may evolve, but they are grounded in a “great cloud of witnesses”....Padraig, Aidan, Brigid in Ireland; Theresa of Avila in Spain; Julian of Norwich in Great Britain; Hildegard of Bingen in Germany; to those like Pedro Claver in Colombia - for whom God was the Creator of ALL things, and all things to be treated with grace and respect. May we remember lives of commitment, and may we commit our lives as well. Amen.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
“Living the Promise” March 11, 2012 Lent 3 Humber United Church John 2:13-22 Third sermon on "Christianity for the Rest of Us" by Diana Butler Bass.
When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple courts he found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!” His disciples remembered that it is written: “Zeal for your house will consume me.” The Jews then responded to him, “What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?” Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.” They replied, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and you are going to raise it in three days?” But the temple he had spoken of was his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken.
********************************************************************
Just over ten days ago, I visited the country of Panama. It was two years since I had been there before, and the immense changes to the country are truly amazing. When you enter Panama now, you receive a slip of paper which says every visitor to the country receives 30 days free medical care. The road infrastructure has expanded so that isolated places can be reached. Services are extremely efficient and well organised. The old rat-infested barrios are being demolished, and in their place new affordable apartments geared to income. Everyone has work and a guaranteed wage. Everyone has health care and education. The resort where we stayed provides a day-care centre for resort staff, so they can come to work and bring the children. The construction of the new sections of the canal is well under way - but here, for me, was the crowning piece. A scant twelve or so years ago, Panama took full control of the canal. When it became evident expansion was needed, they did a complete environmental assessment and plan first; then they drew up the plans; then they made both the assessment and the plans available to the public; and finally, they had a public referendum on whether or not to embark on this project. It was overwhelmingly accepted.
I cannot tell you how exciting it is to see a country which was one of the poorest, now working to elevate itself to the 21st century, on all fronts at the same time - but always keeping in mind justice for the people. Given Panama’s history, this itself is amazing.
**********************************************************************
Jerusalem, - a city of over three million people at that time, packed with even more people who have walked across the Negev, the Shepelah, from the Mediterranean coast, and the Tigris /Euphrates basin, to commemorate their liberation from oppression in Egypt.
From the time of Moses, when the law was given, sacrifice was part and parcel of Passover. There was a belief that God demanded a sacrifice, an atonement, in preparation for the cleansing of sins. However, many people didn’t want the hassle of getting animals across the desert, and maybe losing them altogether. Most preferred to buy in the city, to save time and effort.
Why were animals being sold in the Temple? The historian Josephus suggests that a feud between the Sanhedrin and Caiaphas, the High Priest, forced the Sanhedrin from their office space in the Temple. In retaliation, the Sanhedrin invited merchants to sell animals outside the Temple area, near them. Not to be out-retaliated, Caiaphas allowed merchants to sell animals and exchange money *inside* the Temple precinct. Then it became a way of making more money for the Temple. Worshippers could not use official secular money, particularly Roman coin - they had to exchange it for Temple money. Sacrifices to God had to be without blemish - that is, they had to be perfect - and those animals cost more money, and of course the price was inflated. So the outer courtyard where the Gentiles came to worship was full of animals, tables and the sound the secular coinage being exchanged for kosher coinage, and the Temple precinct was as well. A place of worship was turned into a trading post. Neither the Jews nor the Gentile converts could actually
worship.
Jesus entered Jerusalem. He didn’t go there very often, and maybe hadn’t kept up on the inner politics of the temple. He went planning to spend time in worship and prayer, and found instead a market where the poor were being charged exorbitant prices, and brisk commercial enterprises. He grabbed some cords and tied them into a whip, set the animals loose, hurled the tables of the money-changers over, sending the money all over the ground, and screamed “You have turned this place of worship into a shopping mall."
I bet it was difficult for people to decide if they should applaud Jesus, or be embarrassed at his behaviour. The disciples probably hid behind pillars. This was pretty unusual, even for Jesus. Most of the worshippers probably wanted to come for some comfort, and calmness. Not only could they not get it in this already noisy place, but the whole day was shot when Jesus had a tantrum and brought everything to a spectacular halt.
In the Gospel, John has Jesus fired up that a place of worship had been turned into a marketplace, a money-making event. He defended Jesus’ actions as a case of confronting extortion and worship-gouging, and using the temple as a place to work out hostilities. Not only had the time of Passover been turned into a time of making more money for the temple, but the real core of the festival - the promise of God that there would be freedom from oppression - had been subsumed into oppression of the people by their own religious leaders. My vision of Jesus in this instant is that he was vein-popping, eyeball-popping furious. We like to tame it by calling it ‘righteous anger’, and maybe it was - but I’ve always liked the idea of Jesus just completely losing it altogether about this triple travesty - oppression of Jews by the Romans, oppression of the poorest Jews by their own leaders, and the disdain with which the Temple was treated.
In John’s gospel we’re right in the middle of a worship war. It isn’t about selling Fair Trade coffee after the service, raising funds for an outreach project. It is about far more than that. It is about God’s promise to the people, and the people believing the promise, only to be squeezed into another kind of oppression by the very ones who are supposed to be helping them grow in faith. It is about personal hostilities, and corporate greed being lived out even inside a place of worship. Jesus brings the focus right back to the purpose of worship and justice, and how they are lived out in the world.
There’s a clue here about the promise, too. Jesus was asked to show a miraculous sign that his authority is from God. Jesus responded, "OK, I’ll give you a sign. Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up again. Top that one."
What no one realised, except perhaps Jesus, was a clear intimation of the renewed promise of God. John of course painted the listeners as really thick - all they could think of was the physical temple being completely razed, and Jesus somehow magically putting it all back together. Jesus, once again, left them with a zinger loaded with meaning.
On that day Jesus challenged an entire system - the street address that locked God to a specific place on earth, the way business was done, and the confidence placed in a structure that was supposed to last forever. He walked in, claimed a new authority, and another locus of worship: Jesus named himself as the new temple in which the Spirit of God lived.
There are two things outstanding in this reading for me. First, the issue of justice, which was among the commandments given to Moses, and contained in the Torah. Or perhaps I should say the issue of a gross injustice being perpetrated by a group of religious leaders who had themselves lived as slaves, and were now making slaves out of others who only wished to worship and live in peace.
In the book “Christianity for the Rest of Us”, Diana Butler Bass quotes theologian and biblical scholar Walter Wink, about the powers of the world - and I think this quote gets to the core of what really hit Jesus in that moment. Wink says:
“The Powers That Be are not, then, simply people and their institutions as I had first thought; they also include the spirituality at the core of those institutions and structures. If we want to change those systems, we will have to address not only their outer forms, but their inner spirit as well.”
In his sermon “Who Said You Could Do That?”, Rev. Thomas Hall asks if we run through our orders of worship and are more concerned about doing it right, than whether our whole being is attuned to worshipping God. Is it important if every bit of our service is done in the right order and the right place? What does that even mean? Is God counting up the mistakes we make in a service?
In the issues of justice, and belief in a promise, have we allowed lesser authorities to supplant God? Doing justice means first that we have to believe in the promises of God. If we believe the promises, then we move into the world witnessing to others about the peaceable realm of God.
I think in the moments when Jesus turned everything upside down, he realised the connection of worship and justice. If we believe the promises God made, then our worship has to reflect in every way a commitment to those promises. The result of that worship is to motivate us to live that out by engaging the spiritual centre, to ensure God does not get pushed to the side.
The whole story of church renewal and transformation is a story of being willing to engage again with our faith, and make a commitment to discipleship which takes us outside the boundaries and outside the box. A fantasy? Perhaps - but Paul tells us in Corinthians that God’s foolishness is wiser than our wisdom - and we are encouraged, and exhorted, through faith, to confront and take on *any* powers which prevent the coming of the realm of God.
Enrico Morricone wrote a piece of music for the movie “The Mission”, about a Jesuit priest in 18C Brasil; that music was turned into a song called “Nella Fantasia”. The words offer a broad hope, even for life today. The piece speaks to our promises of justice, and a spiritual world where that justice is the foundation.
In my fantasy, I see a just world.
Where everyone lives in peace and honesty.
I dream of souls that are always free.
Like the clouds that float full of humanity
in the depths of the soul.
In my fantasy I see a bright world
where each night there is less darkness.
I dream of spirits that are always free,
like the clouds that float.
In my fantasy exists a warm wind
that blows into the city, like a friend.
I dream of souls that are always free,
like the clouds that float full of humanity,
in the depths of the soul.
********************************************************************
Just over ten days ago, I visited the country of Panama. It was two years since I had been there before, and the immense changes to the country are truly amazing. When you enter Panama now, you receive a slip of paper which says every visitor to the country receives 30 days free medical care. The road infrastructure has expanded so that isolated places can be reached. Services are extremely efficient and well organised. The old rat-infested barrios are being demolished, and in their place new affordable apartments geared to income. Everyone has work and a guaranteed wage. Everyone has health care and education. The resort where we stayed provides a day-care centre for resort staff, so they can come to work and bring the children. The construction of the new sections of the canal is well under way - but here, for me, was the crowning piece. A scant twelve or so years ago, Panama took full control of the canal. When it became evident expansion was needed, they did a complete environmental assessment and plan first; then they drew up the plans; then they made both the assessment and the plans available to the public; and finally, they had a public referendum on whether or not to embark on this project. It was overwhelmingly accepted.
I cannot tell you how exciting it is to see a country which was one of the poorest, now working to elevate itself to the 21st century, on all fronts at the same time - but always keeping in mind justice for the people. Given Panama’s history, this itself is amazing.
**********************************************************************
Jerusalem, - a city of over three million people at that time, packed with even more people who have walked across the Negev, the Shepelah, from the Mediterranean coast, and the Tigris /Euphrates basin, to commemorate their liberation from oppression in Egypt.
From the time of Moses, when the law was given, sacrifice was part and parcel of Passover. There was a belief that God demanded a sacrifice, an atonement, in preparation for the cleansing of sins. However, many people didn’t want the hassle of getting animals across the desert, and maybe losing them altogether. Most preferred to buy in the city, to save time and effort.
Why were animals being sold in the Temple? The historian Josephus suggests that a feud between the Sanhedrin and Caiaphas, the High Priest, forced the Sanhedrin from their office space in the Temple. In retaliation, the Sanhedrin invited merchants to sell animals outside the Temple area, near them. Not to be out-retaliated, Caiaphas allowed merchants to sell animals and exchange money *inside* the Temple precinct. Then it became a way of making more money for the Temple. Worshippers could not use official secular money, particularly Roman coin - they had to exchange it for Temple money. Sacrifices to God had to be without blemish - that is, they had to be perfect - and those animals cost more money, and of course the price was inflated. So the outer courtyard where the Gentiles came to worship was full of animals, tables and the sound the secular coinage being exchanged for kosher coinage, and the Temple precinct was as well. A place of worship was turned into a trading post. Neither the Jews nor the Gentile converts could actually
worship.
Jesus entered Jerusalem. He didn’t go there very often, and maybe hadn’t kept up on the inner politics of the temple. He went planning to spend time in worship and prayer, and found instead a market where the poor were being charged exorbitant prices, and brisk commercial enterprises. He grabbed some cords and tied them into a whip, set the animals loose, hurled the tables of the money-changers over, sending the money all over the ground, and screamed “You have turned this place of worship into a shopping mall."
I bet it was difficult for people to decide if they should applaud Jesus, or be embarrassed at his behaviour. The disciples probably hid behind pillars. This was pretty unusual, even for Jesus. Most of the worshippers probably wanted to come for some comfort, and calmness. Not only could they not get it in this already noisy place, but the whole day was shot when Jesus had a tantrum and brought everything to a spectacular halt.
In the Gospel, John has Jesus fired up that a place of worship had been turned into a marketplace, a money-making event. He defended Jesus’ actions as a case of confronting extortion and worship-gouging, and using the temple as a place to work out hostilities. Not only had the time of Passover been turned into a time of making more money for the temple, but the real core of the festival - the promise of God that there would be freedom from oppression - had been subsumed into oppression of the people by their own religious leaders. My vision of Jesus in this instant is that he was vein-popping, eyeball-popping furious. We like to tame it by calling it ‘righteous anger’, and maybe it was - but I’ve always liked the idea of Jesus just completely losing it altogether about this triple travesty - oppression of Jews by the Romans, oppression of the poorest Jews by their own leaders, and the disdain with which the Temple was treated.
In John’s gospel we’re right in the middle of a worship war. It isn’t about selling Fair Trade coffee after the service, raising funds for an outreach project. It is about far more than that. It is about God’s promise to the people, and the people believing the promise, only to be squeezed into another kind of oppression by the very ones who are supposed to be helping them grow in faith. It is about personal hostilities, and corporate greed being lived out even inside a place of worship. Jesus brings the focus right back to the purpose of worship and justice, and how they are lived out in the world.
There’s a clue here about the promise, too. Jesus was asked to show a miraculous sign that his authority is from God. Jesus responded, "OK, I’ll give you a sign. Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up again. Top that one."
What no one realised, except perhaps Jesus, was a clear intimation of the renewed promise of God. John of course painted the listeners as really thick - all they could think of was the physical temple being completely razed, and Jesus somehow magically putting it all back together. Jesus, once again, left them with a zinger loaded with meaning.
On that day Jesus challenged an entire system - the street address that locked God to a specific place on earth, the way business was done, and the confidence placed in a structure that was supposed to last forever. He walked in, claimed a new authority, and another locus of worship: Jesus named himself as the new temple in which the Spirit of God lived.
There are two things outstanding in this reading for me. First, the issue of justice, which was among the commandments given to Moses, and contained in the Torah. Or perhaps I should say the issue of a gross injustice being perpetrated by a group of religious leaders who had themselves lived as slaves, and were now making slaves out of others who only wished to worship and live in peace.
In the book “Christianity for the Rest of Us”, Diana Butler Bass quotes theologian and biblical scholar Walter Wink, about the powers of the world - and I think this quote gets to the core of what really hit Jesus in that moment. Wink says:
“The Powers That Be are not, then, simply people and their institutions as I had first thought; they also include the spirituality at the core of those institutions and structures. If we want to change those systems, we will have to address not only their outer forms, but their inner spirit as well.”
In his sermon “Who Said You Could Do That?”, Rev. Thomas Hall asks if we run through our orders of worship and are more concerned about doing it right, than whether our whole being is attuned to worshipping God. Is it important if every bit of our service is done in the right order and the right place? What does that even mean? Is God counting up the mistakes we make in a service?
In the issues of justice, and belief in a promise, have we allowed lesser authorities to supplant God? Doing justice means first that we have to believe in the promises of God. If we believe the promises, then we move into the world witnessing to others about the peaceable realm of God.
I think in the moments when Jesus turned everything upside down, he realised the connection of worship and justice. If we believe the promises God made, then our worship has to reflect in every way a commitment to those promises. The result of that worship is to motivate us to live that out by engaging the spiritual centre, to ensure God does not get pushed to the side.
The whole story of church renewal and transformation is a story of being willing to engage again with our faith, and make a commitment to discipleship which takes us outside the boundaries and outside the box. A fantasy? Perhaps - but Paul tells us in Corinthians that God’s foolishness is wiser than our wisdom - and we are encouraged, and exhorted, through faith, to confront and take on *any* powers which prevent the coming of the realm of God.
Enrico Morricone wrote a piece of music for the movie “The Mission”, about a Jesuit priest in 18C Brasil; that music was turned into a song called “Nella Fantasia”. The words offer a broad hope, even for life today. The piece speaks to our promises of justice, and a spiritual world where that justice is the foundation.
In my fantasy, I see a just world.
Where everyone lives in peace and honesty.
I dream of souls that are always free.
Like the clouds that float full of humanity
in the depths of the soul.
In my fantasy I see a bright world
where each night there is less darkness.
I dream of spirits that are always free,
like the clouds that float.
In my fantasy exists a warm wind
that blows into the city, like a friend.
I dream of souls that are always free,
like the clouds that float full of humanity,
in the depths of the soul.
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