Mustard Seed Sunday

by Megan Means

(Based on Mark 4:26-34)

‘Aotearoa Sunday’ was passed in the 1980s by the Anglican General Synod. It is a day of prayer and thanksgiving for the work of the ‘Bishopric of Aotearoa’.

Kia ora, nau mai, haere mai, tēnā koutou katoa.
E te whānau (family)
Nau mai, haere mai (welcome)
Ki tēnei whare karakia (to this church)
Ko te Atua te pou manaaki, te pou atawhai, te kaihanga o ngā mea katoa.
    (God is our support and carer, the creator of all things)

The Sunday before Advent in the UK is called ‘Stir it up Sunday’, a name which comes from the Book of Common Prayer and possibly dates back to 1549. The words of the Collect that have usually been said on this day are, “Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people”. As traditions go, somewhere along the way the metaphor of stirring up the Christmas pudding or cake became a timely fit for the Sunday before Advent.

This play on words has prompted generations of families, particularly in the UK, to stir their Christmas pudding/cake in readiness for Christmas on this Sunday every year. Are you of this tradition? Or is today now a reminder that you might need to start thinking about your Christmas pudding and Christmas cake!

I do like the term ‘Stir it up Sunday’!

Often Anglican Sunday services are very well planned and led. They are consistent. We usually know what is going to happen. Sometimes churches do things slightly differently but it is all really quite ordered, predictable and safe.

But, ‘the Bishopric of Aotearoa’ could be a bit of a ‘stir…up’! What is it? I googled it …

From Wikipedia (the fount of all people’s knowledge): The Bishopric of Aotearoa, Te Pīhopa o Aotearoa, was a post created in 1928. It is usually occupied by the most senior bishop of Tikanga Māori (although at present this is not the case) and this person is also the Primate and archbishop who heads the Māori Anglican Church throughout New Zealand. The office is currently held by Archbishop Donald Tamihere, who was installed in April 2018 at Manutuke Marae, near Gisborne.

Donald Tamihere

The Bishopric of Aotearoa has within it five hui amorangi/dioceses, each with its own unique identity and pīhopa/bishop, just like tikanga pākehā.
The idea of a Māori diocese with its own bishop was a response to the formation of the Rātana Church, which threatened to draw Māori away from the established churches. For three years there was deadlock within Pākehā bishops, who insisted that the first bishop of Aotearoa should be Pākehā, and Māori Anglicans were adamant that this person should be Māori. The eventual solution was a classic Anglican compromise: the creation of a so-called bishopric with no territorial jurisdiction. On 2 December 1928, Frederick Bennett was consecrated as the first Bishop of Aotearoa in the Napier Cathedral. He was an assistant to the Bishop of Waiapu, and ministered to Māori throughout the country but under licence from the pākehā diocesan bishops (an arrangement maintained until 1978).

Frederick Bennett

Jesus said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God …? It is like a mustard seed.”
The allegory of the mustard seed is an invitation for anyone living in a world of choices to acquire discernment, courage, flexibility: surely all elements within the story of the Bishopric of Aotearoa, that can also relate into each of our own lives.

Jesus says things like: The kingdom is here now. The kingdom is within. The kingdom is among you. Seek the Kingdom.
“Thy kingdom come – on earth as it is in heaven.”

This “kingdom” is here … right now! And this parable is for anyone who lives with the desire, the call, to do something good and beautiful with their life, or to do something that makes a difference in the world for God’s creation and beloved community.

The growth of any seed is a picture of encouragement and an invitation to make a kinder world possible right now.
There is a lot of goodness in a mustard seed: It is used for medicinal purposes. It is used to enhance taste. It is a useful seed that becomes a bushy plant (one neither elegant nor majestic).

Jesus said the realm of God is like someone taking care to plant a useful seed in prepared ground and then tending to it and watching it grow.
Seeds can grow into unexpected results. The mustard bush is a stubborn plant, which develops into a tough little shrub, and then grows to become a tree that birds can make their nests in.

‘Stirring up’ this allegory, the Bishopric of Aotearoa is a persistent, tough native plant that started growing into something that was not expected. Yes, I think it did start to grow into something unexpected and was overtaken in some ways and controlled by colonial expectations. Today it continues to establish itself and connect with whānau and friends and remind all Anglicans that we are a bicultural church.

And stirring it up more, why have ‘us’ pākehā only used token amounts of Te Reo in our services? Along with poor pronunciation? I think that Pākehā led ministry units have made a pretty poor Christmas cake for some time.
Our prayer book and constitution, however, have been ahead of the times with their bicultural equality liturgical approach. Today our Anglican church is positioned well to continue to support the country’s revival of taha Māori by the way our liturgies uphold te Tiriti o Waitangi principles and the way that we provide a balanced voice to the original stories of the arrival of the gospel in Aotearoa.

God’s kingdom is with – and within – us all.

So, what is being stirred up within us today? What seed is wanting space to grow? What might we change, improve about ourselves over this next week and into our futures? What might we stir up this Advent and Christmas season? A tiny seed will remain just that unless we do something about it.

Embrace Thanksgiving

Americans will celebrate their Thanksgiving holiday on November 24th.  Each year it’s the fourth Thursday of November.  Why Thursday?  Don’t know.  But they get a day off. They run big parades, go to church, and gather for turkey’d family meals. 

A bigger question is, why don’t we celebrate it in New Zealand?  We seem to have bought into Valentine’s Day and Halloween, and all those various Black Friday sales – at least, retail businesses have … oh, wait, there’s my answer: gifts aren’t given at Thanksgiving, so of course the retailers and media aren’t going to promote it.

But we should.  Thanksgiving is its own gift, and should be promoted for its own sake.  Thanksgiving could be such a boost for the mental health of our country.  Yet we steadfastly push Halloween instead.  Go figure.

The earliest record of America’s celebration seems to have been on the landing of thirty-eight settlers at Virginia, on December 4th 1619. The group’s charter included, “that the day of our ships’ arrival at the place assigned for plantation in the land of Virginia shall be yearly and perpetually kept holy as a day of thanksgiving to Almighty God.”  There were other declarations of thanks for other arrivals and survivals, until George Washington, as President of the United States, proclaimed the first nationwide thanksgiving celebration, November 26th 1789, “as a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favours of Almighty God”.

The ‘Almighty God’ in all this is evident and, pointedly, every book of the New Testament emphasises the way of gratitude, especially at times of hardship.  1 Thess 5:18 says, “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”  And, more fully, 2 Cor 4:15-18: “All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.  Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
The writer was in prison and his execution was imminent.

GK Chesterton called gratitude “the mother of all virtues”, and you can see his point.  Thanksgiving focuses on what we have and enjoy, rather than what we don’t and don’t, and can be embraced as a supplier of perspective, balance and mental well-being.

An anecdote, to reinforce:
I heard about a man who stumbled on Satan’s supply of seeds – the seeds he sows in the human heart.  There was great variety, but the man noticed, more numerous than all the others, the seeds of discouragement.  He learnt that these seeds were very hardy and could grow anywhere, under any conditions.  He questioned the keeper of the seeds, who admitted, “You are right – these seeds will grow almost anywhere.”
“Almost?  You mean there is somewhere the seeds of discouragement will not grow?”
“Yes,” the keeper replied.  “They won’t grow in the heart of a thankful person.”

Thankfulness is the antidote for discouragement.  And despair.  And complaining.  So, let’s count our blessings, New Zealand; list the things we can be thankful for, in bringing balance to our hardships and challenges.  Practise gratitude, and overcome.  And, why not do something to cement the intent on Nov 24th.

Ken F

Praction

by Bruce Gilberd

(Based on Matt 6:5-15)

Fore-prayer on Parihaka: God of history, God of grace, we give thanks for the faith, aroha and vision of Tewhiti and Tohu.  As leaders of the Christian village of Parihaka, in Taranaki, NZ, they peaceably sought justice.  May we, and all peoples, do the same in our time and place.  Amen.

I’ve invented a new word: “Praction”: Prayer <—> Action.

In today’s Gospel reading Jesus leads into giving his prayer – the Lord’s Prayer – with these words of guidance:

  • “when you pray go to your room; shut the door quietly.”
    I add: switch off all sounds, devices and distractions, and sit in a receptive position.
  • Jesus then says: “Pray to your Father, who is in this secret place.”
    I add: He is beyond us, beside us, and within us.
  • Jesus says: “And your Father who sees you in secret will reward you openly.”

So, I ask two questions:

  • What might be the essential nature of our prayer in secret solitude?
  • What might the public rewards be of our secret prayer?

To help us with these questions, I refer to this little book: Twentieth Century Men [People] of Prayer.  The author, Mark Gibbard, was an Anglican monk – I heard him speak fifty years ago.  I am still incorporating into my prayer the many insights in his pages.

The key insights for all the people covered form a three-fold trinity. They

  • stay connected to life and have broad interests
  • exercise and develop their capacity to gaze on God – contemplate
  • take costly, loving action every day

So … be widely involved in life; pray and act: Praction!

I will now illustrate, from four people in Gibbard’s book, how each lived this way in their varying contexts.

  1. Fredrich Von Hugel:

Von Hugel was the son of an Austrian Baron and a Scottish mother, born in 1852.  The family settled in Devon, England.  He was a scholar, a geologist, and a deep man of prayer, who guided many others.  His guidance could be very direct!
He was convinced followers of Jesus need to have broad and non-religious interests if they, by prayer and action – in praction, were to become mature and integrated human beings.  We must, he said, face our intellectual problems and anchor our faith in community and history.
“When I cease to take in new ideas,” he said, “call the undertaker!”

2. Simone Weil:

Weil was born into an affluent medical family in Paris in 1909.  They were agnostic Jews.  She was a seeker of truth and a woman of prayer.  She incensed her parents by giving her rations to soldiers, working in factories for low pay, and refusing to wear stockings.  She committed herself to share the hardships of those unjustly treated.
Weil fought in the Spanish Civil War for the democratically elected Socialist party, against Franco.
She died, exhausted, at 34.

Prayer led her to just action.  A complex personality who came, in her words, “to adore Christ”.

3. Dietrich Bonhoeffer:

He was born in Berlin in 1905, and executed after two years in prison in 1945.
A Lutheran by upbringing, and with a desire to be a theologian, from fourteen years of age.  Yet … he had yet to be encountered by Christ, and there were years of build-up to that.  Later Bonhoeffer asks the haunting and contemporary question, “Who is Christ for us, today?”
In 1937, when he could have pursued a scholarly career in America, and Hitler’s star was rising, and Germany re-arming, he returned to Germany and led the small “Confessing Church” – the established church had capitulated to Hitler.  This, and being implicated in an attempt on Hitler’s life, cost him his life.

But before this, he, Bonhoeffer, who also liked to dance, hike, play the piano and go to the opera – he wrote key texts for us, not least The Cost of Discipleship, and Letters and Papers from Prison.  Here we discover the essence of this man of prayer: of broad interests, of love, and of prayer, the Psalms his constant companion.

I am tempted to tell you about all the twelve people in this text – but I’ll complete with just one more – our fourth.

4. Dag Hammarskjold:

Was born in a sixteenth century castle in Uppsala, Sweden.  Died in a plane crash in 1961, on his way to try and end the war in the Congo.
He was General Secretary of the United Nations.  Politics and prayer were central to his holy and efficient life.  He was a quiet man, with incredible energy.
After his death, his journal of thirty one years was found in his New York home.  It was published as Markings.  There are one or two insights.

  • Again, the Psalms were very important to him.
  • He wrote, “We need to begin to live in self-forgetfulness.”
  • “The greater the political responsibilities, the greater the need of prayer.”
  • “I don’t know who – or what – put the question.  I don’t know when it was put.  I don’t even remember answering.  But at some moment I did answer Yes to someone, … and from that hour I was certain that existence is meaningful and that therefore my life in self-surrender had a goal.”
  • And finally from Hammarskjold, “For many of us in this era, the road to holiness necessarily passes through the world of action.”

Praction!

These four, along with Tewhiti and Tohu of Parihaka, and millions down the centuries, have been committed to

  • anchorage in the community of faith
  • broad interests in God’s world: in nature and history …. in society and politics …. in justice and mercy
  • silent, receiving, reflective prayer
  • right, loving action in society

These have been their calling, and the source of their maturing.
Which of these – wider interests, reflective prayer, right action – are you – am I – now called to develop?  I hope you will believe me, that this is possible for all of us – proceeding in a way that is true to who we are.

Let us all live this way, all the time.

No Regrets

My blog this fortnight is about Maturity.  So, if its title is misleading, sorry.  I regret it.
The thing is, I have a certain pride (some might call it smugness) in being a man of few regrets.  It’s not that I’ve never done anything wrong.  On the contrary, life has contained plenty of failures, disappointments and embarrassments.  But every decision I ever make, I make with consideration, forethought, and with the best intentions and wisdom and integrity I can amass.  So if a decision backfires or something goes wrong, there is no cause for regret, because I know that given the same circumstances and information, I would make the same decision again.  Any undesirable outcome was not the result of a poor decision.  Recovery or corrective action may be necessary, even healing or apology, and lessons may need to be learned; but regret is redundant.

However, I do have one regret.  Yes, I do.

In my early twenties a close friend was about to marry.  At a pre-wedding function I and a couple of other close friends, fortified no doubt by an ale or two, thought it would be clever to kidnap our mate.  To this day I cannot think why, by any assessment, this was a good idea.  We collared him in a hallway, dragged him away (good-naturedly and with his reluctant acquiescence), and sat in a car eating chips and wondering, what now?  We decided (again, unguided by any rational thought) to go back to the function and take money off the guests – for charity, of course – in order to get their loved one back.  It seemed like such a jolly jape at the time, and bound to be admired by all.

Well, the jape meandered to its deserved anti-climax, but I have regretted that unfathomable act of immaturity ever since.  What were we thinking?

I was reminded of this at a recent ‘fun-day’ in a nearby park.  There was a sausage sizzle and a queue had formed and there were three youths – pre-teens, I would say – who would get their breaded sausage, woof it down in a gulp, and rejoin the queue.  They thought they were hilarious, cleverly managing to secure far more sausages than anyone else and what a great ruse!  Everyone else, of course, only saw them as boorish and immature, and where were their parents?

What is maturity?  When does someone become mature?

No doubt it’s a process.  But I offer my own definition:  Maturity is a function of how much one considers the needs and feelings of others.  Yeah?  Nothing to do with age.  A very young person can be demonstrably mature.  And a very old one immature.   Others in between.
And, a person can be mature at certain times and places, but immature at others. 

A mature person probably wouldn’t even begin to judge pre-teens at a sausage sizzle!

I’ve seen my infant grandson throw a handful of Lego bricks at an infant playmate and laugh with unfeeling delight, looking around at adults in the room expecting them to share his mirth. I’ve watched people in a rugby crowd – ostensibly adult – pulling acts of the utmost immaturity.

I’ve seen my granddaughter make moves to find a third world refugee child to sponsor; and I’ve seen other acts of unexpected selflessness from teenagers.

It’s these latter behaviours we parents, grandparents, teachers, leaders (and formerly immature people, especially kidnappers of husbands-in-waiting) need to foster and encourage.  The former behaviours – the boorish, selfish ones – to be restrained and coached out of our charges, lest they become anti-social, sociopathic, or even criminal.

No, I have no regrets … except … well, there were quite a few instances of immaturity that I do regret.  There, it’s out there now.
But the ideal is to retain our child-like-ness whilst developing our maturity.  And the secret to that is learning to prioritise the needs and feelings of others.

Less of me; more of others –> no regerts.

Ken F