[Taken from the latest edition of Grapevine Magazine, written by a Lynette Scribner, used with the Grapevine Editor’s permission.]
I saw this gentleman, Tim, in Boston’s Logan Airport with the sister he’d been visiting. It appeared he was both deaf and blind, as I observed her signing into his hand for him to feel her words. When he came aboard the plane he had been assigned the middle seat of my row. The kind gentleman who had the aisle seat graciously gave it up for him.
At this point Tim was travelling alone. The flight attendants sincerely wanted to assist him, but had no way to communicate. I watched as they didn’t flinch when he reached out to touch their faces and arms. They took his hand and tried so hard to communicate with him, to no avail. He had some verbal ability, but clearly could not understand them.
The man who had given up his seat did his best to assist him with things like opening coffee creamer and putting it in his coffee. When Tim made the attempt to stand up and feel his way to the restroom, his seat mate immediately was up to help him.
The flight attendants were talking among themselves and someone suggested paging to see if anyone on board knew sign language. That’s when this lovely young woman came into the picture. Fifteen years old, she learned sign-language because she had dyslexia, and it was the easiest foreign language for her to learn. For the rest of the flight she attended to Tim and made sure his needs were met.
It was fascinating to watch as she signed one letter at a time into his hand. He was able to ‘read’ her signing, and they carried on an animated conversation. When he asked her if she was pretty, she blushed and laughed as the seat mate, who had learned a few signs by now, communicated an enthusiastic yes to Tim.
I don’t know when I’ve ever seen so many people rally to take care of another human being. All of us in the immediate rows were laughing and smiling and enjoying his obvious delight in having someone to talk to.
Huge kudos to the flight attendants of Alaska Airlines who went above and beyond to meet Tim’s needs. I can’t say enough about this beautiful young woman named Clara who didn’t think twice about helping her fellow passenger. It was a lovely reminder, in this time of too much awfulness, that there are still good, good people who are willing to look out for each other.
I walk from the reading lectern to the preaching lectern with a rather troubled mind. This story told in these verses from the Gospel of Matthew has been really bothering me for many days. I haven’t reached a conclusion that I feel able to preach on, even after lots of reading from many sources.
This morning I woke wanting to do a rewrite.
I do feel the message is about who is included. I do think the passage is especially relevant to the context of time and place; Matthew guiding his community of mostly Jewish believers in ‘the Way’ – new followers of Jesus – finding their way towards greater acceptance of the despised Gentiles. But I don’t know and can’t find a way of explaining away the behaviour and words of Jesus – and the disciples – in this gospel reading. It’s harsh. Is this the Jesus we want to know?
Also, I do think we hear and see such exclusionary language and attitudes not dissimilar today – from today’s apparent Jesus followers. Plus, I acknowledge that at times I do myself get impatient with people that I’ve categorised as ‘other’.
So, I have decided to look at the other readings set down to compliment the Gospel, especially the Isaiah one. It concludes, “… my house shall be called a house of prayer. Thus says the Lord God who gathers the outcasts of Israel. ‘I will gather others to them besides those already gathered.’”
I will admit to avoiding the Prophets and their long winded speeches on the whole, but this week I discovered a new insight from my morning reading. The Centre for Action and Contemplation has writers exploring ‘The Prophetic call to life’ this year, and this week I encountered a commentary on the prophets in the Old Testament by Richard Rohr, taken from his book Great Themes of Scripture, which I’d like to share.
He says: At the centre of the prophets’ ministry is their total awareness of the transcendent God who is above all things and yet within all things. God’s presence cuts across all boundaries of space and time, and there is never any place or event from which God is absent. The prophets’ consciousness was filled with that awareness of God’s presence, a presence inescapable once they became attuned to it. What God was doing in their hearts was loving them to life, calling them, and drawing them to God’s own heart. God had loved Israel to life when they were still enslaved and invited them to life in giving them the Torah to follow. God drew them to life when they had given up on life, in exile. In the prophets’ own experience of the call to divine life, they could see that same pattern repeated over and over in the history of their people. God’s call to life was, at the same time, a call to love. Drawn into the love of God, the prophets loved YHWH with all their heart and soul. They loved their own people and with clear insight saw that living in the love that is God implies hospitality to strangers, charity to the poor, justice for the oppressed. Biblical texts often mirror our own human consciousness and journey.
And now the a-ha bit for me, when Rohr says: Life itself — and the Scriptures, including the prophets — is always three steps forward and two steps backward. It gets the point and then loses it or doubts it. Our job is to see where the three-steps-forward texts are heading – invariably that’s toward mercy, forgiveness, inclusion, non-violence, and trust, which gives us the ability to recognise and understand the two-steps-backward texts – which are usually about vengeance, divine pettiness, law over grace, form over substance, and technique over relationship.
For me those “violent vengeance” bits are what put me off reading those old prophets.
Maybe you feel like that too?
But over time and with re-reading and study, Rohr says we’ll begin to see the central insight which arranges the parts into a single whole.
The lived experience of God’s love is an experience of grace, overwhelming beauty, and unbelievable mercy. It is a gift of forgiveness, approval, and acceptance. To live in that love means to live in grace, to be gracious and merciful to others. It means extending to others forgiveness and approval and acceptance. As Jesus said (at another time), it even means loving our enemies. The prophets stood in the heart of that experience.
I can certainly see that three steps forward and two back also applies for us in our lives today. We move forward in our understanding and even in our intentions but not always in the living it out.
The important thing is to be self aware, to be willing to see another point of view and never lose hope in the restoring power of God’s love.
In our own time and place, on justice issues for the marginalised we do face challenges to consider different ways forward … how to welcome any and all wishing to be included fully at the table of life.
Just ahead we are about to elect people to form a government to lead this country. I think there’s going to be a lot of voices of discontent and even disruption, but let’s hope not a hardening of hearts and minds.
Plenty to weigh up as we try and bring the values instilled in us in response to God’s love, to our decision making and practice of life.
As that other prophet Micah proclaims, “He has told you, o mortal, what is good. Do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with our God.”
(Based on Matt 14:13-21, and a previous address by Chris Ison)
‘Compassion fatigue’ is an expression that has come into vogue in the last 30-40 years. It must, I think, be associated with the development of modern media communications which enable us to see most of the tragedies in the world in real time. We can sit and watch the news and see the sea of refugees trying to find a new safe home, the horrors of the war in Ukraine, and the hopelessness of families in Napier and Gisborne as they view the loss of everything under the deluge of cyclone-induced flooding. Coupled with this, we are beset with appeals through the post, on the phone and by direct advertising from a plethora of charities, all of which seem eminently worthy of support.
If you are like me you feel overwhelmed and you harden your hearts a bit more because you just can’t cope. Somebody ought to do something … but I can’t fix all the problems of this country, let alone the world. You must feel the same, when, at the end of a bad day or a bad week, when everything seems to be going wrong or needing urgent action, someone else phones or calls wanting your time or attention.
We might be justified in thinking that Jesus was in this state when we begin looking at today’s Gospel reading. John the Baptist’s disciples have just arrived to tell him that John, his cousin and collaborator, has been executed by Herod as a result of Herodias’s scheming. Small wonder if, as it says, when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself.
But what happens – a crowd turns up! What would your reaction be? I know what mine would be, and it wouldn’t be polite. But compassion fatigue is not something Jesus knows about, and he had compassion for them and cured their sick.
The day wears on and evening approaches. The disciples start to get concerned as they are in a deserted place and they want Jesus to give up and send the people off so they can all get a meal: “That’s all for now – you guys must be getting hungry, so we’ll call it a day.” (I have been very glad to hear this from a concluding speaker at a conference or seminar.) But Jesus will have none of it. They don’t need to go away – you give them something to eat. “Who, us?” respond the disciples. “We don’t have anything … well, only these five loaves and two fish.”
And he said, “Bring them here to me.” Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children. (So there could have been up to 20,000 people there. A fair slice of the local Galilean population.)
Let’s look at the conversation that has taken place, because it tells us a lot about what will happen when we get involved with Jesus. We start with involvement. We see a world in need and we are overwhelmed: what can we do about it, we can’t even think where to start, heaven knows we may have little enough. But we know something needs doing, so, like the disciples, we approach Jesus. Perhaps we even suggest a solution that he might like to be responsible for. But it doesn’t seem to work like that. Involvement involves openness to response and the response from Jesus is ‘You do something’. Like the disciples, this may well call forth from us, “I can’t, what can I do, all I’ve got is ….”, and it’s at that point that Jesus turns back to us and says, ‘Give me what you have got’, and we blunder in, uncomprehending, with our ideas, what little we have. Jesus takes them – ideas, loaves, fishes, talents, love, humour, artistic skills – and blesses them and offers them to the Father in his name. Then breaking them, so they are ready for use, he gives them back to us, perhaps in a form we had not dreamt of; our meagre offerings transformed for his service.
The outcome may not be immediate, as with the loaves and fishes, and it may not be what we expect or when we expect, but an outcome there will be. A few small loaves become a table of plenty – if only we have the faith to ask … and wait on him. This from a God who does not know limits to giving, let alone compassion fatigue.
But, as if this were not extraordinary enough, we can go deeper.
Although this is an astounding miracle, we need to remember that Jesus’s greatest work was done not in Galilee but at Calvary, where, we will be reminded shortly as we celebrate that last supper: On that night before he died he took bread and gave you thanks. He broke it, gave it to his disciples, and said: Take, eat, this is my body which is given for you; do this to remember me.
He blessed, he broke, and he gave.
However, we don’t just remember something that went on 2000 years ago. Through the mystery of this sacrament we are brought, in the power of the Spirit, to participate, once again, in that final sacrificial meal. The past becomes present and we in the present participate in the past. We are part of the gospel story, the story becomes present to us. We come together with God, through his Holy Spirit, and he transforms us, and we are changed. We are not, like the 5000, having our physical hunger met, but like the countless millions who have participated in this gift of grace before us and with us, we are having our spiritual hunger satisfied.
Christ says, ‘Give me what you have got!’, so we bring to him our thanks, our brokenness, our hopes, our fears, our regrets, our guilt and the things that we dare not admit even to ourselves, and we who receive Christ’s body become the body of Christ – the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.
We are transformed and changed, given new life, new hope and new being.
As we shall say as part of the post-communion prayer: Accept our thanks for all you have done. Our hands were empty, and you filled them!
And, filled, we “go out to love and serve the Lord”.
[When there are five Sundays in a month it is the custom of Tairua Anglican Church to run a Sunday worship service entirely different from usual practice, which means, essentially, anything novel (and appropriate) is possible – as per the most recent Sunday, 30th July – Editor’s note]
Despite the catchy title, there was no clandestine showing of the Clint Eastwood movie. We’ll give you a promotion poster to compensate:
The Anglican lectionary readings for the day were from Genesis 29, Romans 8 and Matthew 13, and each of these revealed an aspect of expectation, congruent with the theme.
The Genesis reading is the story of Jacob’s agreement to work for Laban for seven years in anticipation of marrying Laban’s beautiful daughter, Rachel. The deal goes south when Laban tricks Jacob, by substituting his first-born daughter Leah for Rachel on the wedding night. To resolve the predicament, Jacob agrees to work for Laban for a further seven years to get Rachel as well! But, a story where hopeful expectation turns bad!
The Romans reading tells of our right standing with God through Jesus, and the gift of the Holy Spirit, given to us “to lead us into all truth.” We are told that nothing now can separate us from God because, “No one will condemn us, for Christ Jesus died for us and was raised to life for us, and he is sitting in the place of honour at God’s right hand, pleading for us”. That surely is an extremely good and hopeful expectation!
The Gospel reading for the day was simply Matthew 13:33: “Jesus also used this illustration: ‘The Kingdom of Heaven is like the yeast a woman used in making bread. Even though she put only a little yeast in three measures of flour, it permeated every part of the dough.'”
The unravelling of the parable was provided by Dr Brant Pitre, a Catholic theologian, who explained that yeast was regarded as unclean by the Jews; hence the focus on unleavened bread at the time of their religious festivals. He emphasised how the small amount of yeast spread through the huge amount of flour is a great analogy of how sin invades the world. And it was in Dr Pitre’s telling of how the dough was usually covered and put aside to rise in the dark that we had a revelation that this parable parallels the way in which Jesus dealt with sin. He took all of our sin at the Cross and lay for three days in a dark tomb before emerging, risen and clean! Surely another example of extremely good and hopeful expectation!
Budding yeast under a microscope
So, having given good and bad examples of expectations, Canon J John, an Anglican educator and evangelist, provided the “ugly”! One of J John’s video clips, entitled “Miraculous Expectations” was shown. In it, J John tells the story of the mother explaining to her daughter that she is pregnant. She tells the little girl that after the pain of labour and the birth she can expect a new baby brother or sister at Christmas. Nature takes its course and the home is full of joyful celebration at Christmas with the arrival of the new sibling. The next year, as Christmas is approaching, the mum asks her daughter what present she would like for Christmas. The child answers, “If it isn’t too painful Mummy, could I have a pony?”
stfrancischurchtairuanz 