The Ugly Game

Look, this blog is about football, so apologies to any sportophobes. But there’s a big competition going on in Qatar between 32 teams who’ve won the right (out of 120 countries) to fight play for the Football World Cup.

There’s a lot not to like about football, eh.  (‘Soccer’ in our enlightened land.)  (And this from one who couldn’t be a bigger sports fan.)  This blog rarely spotlights sport, but for once sport must be spotted.

Because, how can it be called the ‘beautiful game’ when

  • every few moments a player goes down clutching an ankle, grimacing and writhing in pain?
  • referees regularly award free kicks and (worse) penalties to players who have dived to the ground without having been touched?
  • players gang-bush a ref who’s made a decision they don’t like (or hasn’t made a decision they think he should have made)?
  • a player who scores a goal then careers around like a child, shirt off, claiming wild acclaim?
  • after a goal, players mob by the corner flag and do a childish, inflammatory, unsporting little hornpipe?
  • penalty goals scored are lauded with all the same over-reaction, even though it was only a point-blank shot which the goalie had no chance saving?
  • commentators use epithets like “sumptuous” and “miraculous” and “glorious” to describe unremarkable goals?
  • players like Messi and Kane and Beckham and Maradona are lionised as miracle players when most of the time they’re ordinary and even anonymous?

And don’t let me start on penalty shoot-outs to decide a drawn match after extra time.  Why should one team, having played to an exhausting, heroic impasse, end up a random loser?  (Sorry, I did start.)

Football players – even the nice ones – become cheats, hollywoods and prima donnas on the pitch; referees become random and easily deceived officials; VAR takes up so much time, to produce wrong decisions, and disrupt any flow the game had; Harry Kane is lauded as top goal scorer of all time when half his goals were from penalties, and only about three players on any given pitch at any given time get chances to shoot at goal anyway.  It’s so unlaudable a record.

And then there’s the whole corrupt politics behind the game … and not the least by the current World Cup hosts.

“Beautiful” game?  I don’t think so.  That’s like calling Chinese gooseberries “kiwifruit”, the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea “democratic”, or New Zealand “Godzone”.

Yet … what a comp!  What a Cup.  What a spectacle it’s been!

Despite the ugliness of it all, it’s been beautiful to watch.  The drama!  The exquisitely crafted goals.  The competitiveness.  The melting pot of peoples.  The commentaries.  (“Morocco have the wind in their sails!”  “Destiny lies at the feet of Luka Modric!”  “A wave of Dutch orange rose to meet him!”)
I hate the cheating and the unsportingness, despise the pretentious antics, scorn the gasconade.  But damned if the drama don’t just trump it all.

Give us more of the ugly game.

Questioning, Towards Hope

by Terry Hall and Pat Lee

(Based on Matt 11:2-11; James 5:7-12)

Pat has adapted and updated this sermon, written around 1988 by American Terry Hall, and presents it here for your reflection.

Christianity is essentially a faith walk of hope – not a ‘hope-so religion’ or ‘just hoping’ – but a new, stupendous hope born of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ and creating a tidal wave of hope and joy to revive a world as tired, troubled and as chaotic as ours. But how does the gospel of Jesus Christ transmit to our lives in the midst of seemingly hopeless situations? The poor, the homeless and those struggling with the cost of living remain with us, with almost no opportunity to climb out of their condition, with little chance of bettering themselves or the world around them.

World and national events that are taking place today make us stop and reflect upon the fleetingness of peace and the real inability of humankind to establish “peace on earth, goodwill toward all”. The good seem to get the ‘wrong end of the stick’, while evil continues to prosper. It is to these and other pertinent issues that the gospel of Jesus Christ addresses itself. It is to the hopeless that Jesus gives hope. It is to us that find ourselves doubting our faith in our faith pilgrimage that this text finds its most pointed application.

There are moments that cause our faith to quiver, circumstances that challenge our foundations to the depths. Some of us may have even questioned our personal faith in time of crisis. Is faith real? Is Jesus Christ really the person portrayed in the Scriptures or is he someone imagined out of our contemporary feelings, belief and literature? More specifically, can my God support me in a time of personal crisis? Our prayer becomes, “Lord, give me hope; give me meaning and direction to my life. Help me to find answers to my complex questions that plague me daily.”

I sensed a frustrated prophet in John the Baptist. In today’s New Testament reading, James was telling us about waiting and not grumbling. Well, John was now in prison. Jesus had attained a healthy level of popularity, a level experienced once by John. John, Jesus’s cousin by the way, appears to be on the way out, his star falling. So, here is our main character – confused about the present and uncertain about the future – searching for the right answer.

John was in a period of transition in his life. He was the one that stood at the end of a long line of Old Testament prophets and was the forerunner of the Messiah foretold by the prophet Malachi. John was a lot like Moses who saw the Promised Land but never entered it. John was on the outside looking in. He had witnessed God breaking into history, in Jesus Christ, and he had faithfully served as a catalyst for the plan of God, but now doubts and questions reigned in his mind. Jesus had failed to conform to popular ideas about the Messiah who was to bring about political, social and economic deliverance. Jesus was assuming a very humble role, while John was expecting him to take a more direct and outward charge of the world about him. No wonder he was confused! The entire system of belief on which he had based his life and work was now being inwardly questioned.

It is amidst this uncertainty and confusion that John found certainty, stability and assurance. And he did this by questioning, through doubting. Yes, doubting.

One person has said that “to believe with certainty, we must begin by doubting”. My gut feeling is that this is true, because only by inquiring, by questioning the correct source, and even doubting, do we grow. So John doubted! Good on him! The truth is, he really wanted to know.  He desired not to take a fact at face value, but to investigate the truth and ask the source of knowledge.

John sent his envoys to Jesus to find the right answer. He instructed them to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” His question amounts to a challenge and a call to action. “If you are the Messiah, manifest your overwhelming power.”

What courage, dedication and sincerity! He simply wanted Jesus to do the right thing with his life as he saw it. He wanted to know the truth, not just in his heart, but also in his mind. John affirms that no one should accept simple statements out of the air, just because they are made by someone in authority or with a claim to power or greatness. There must be evidence of some sort to support it or some reason for accepting it. This evidence must be personally confirmed and not just hearsay.

John the Baptist is like Thomas, the disciple who has unfortunately been named Doubting Thomas. Like Thomas, John was perceptive enough to know the difference between truth and desire; humble enough to acknowledge his ignorance and to ask for help; thorough enough to base what he believed on evidence that was personally authenticated; and honest enough to change his mind in the light of new truth.

So Jesus replies, “Tell John this. All that is taking place is actually in accordance with God’s plan, of which you are a part. The blind see; the lame walk; the deaf hear; the dead are raised; and the good news is preached.”
Jesus does not criticize John’s confusion and uncertainty. He does not reply, “Oh, you of little faith.” He simply replies in the affirmative: “Let the record speak for itself. Continue your examination, John. Search me diligently; do not take what is being said about me on speculation, but truly search for yourself. Gather the facts and then decide.”
Had Jesus replied, “Yes, I am the One,” John would have accepted the statement blindly but would have spent the rest of his life in uncertainty.

This is where John finds new hope in the midst of his uncertainty. He learned that Jesus was more than just a good man who had found his way to God, but it was God himself who had found his way to humankind, the entire human family. It is this Incarnation that we celebrate. It is this Christ that comes into our lives, makes himself known to us, and becomes our Lord. John questioned the right source, and from that answer found new hope for living, giving him joy.

There are many things in our lives which cause us confusion and doubt – things that seem impossible to mend, both spiritually and mentally. We hear grumblings and see rash judgements and are guilty of the same.
It is in the midst of this chaos and confusion that Christ comes to give us hope and joy in the practical management of daily life, during those in-between times when we are confused, doubtful, tempted to compromise, and to lose heart. Martin Luther said that “everything that is done in the world is done by the hopeful”. So if Jesus is our hope in the midst of doubt and confusion, we have nowhere to go but up.

The ‘Why’ of Repentance

by Joan Fanshawe

(Based on Matt 3:1-12; Isa 11:1-10; Ro 15:4-13)

Last weekend Alison and I sang in the performance of the Messiah in Thames. It was great that a good number of you were able to come over and share that too. We had practised in segments over the months but when it all came together with the soloists, I found it a very moving experience to hear those words within the whole sequence of experience so familiar to our faith.

Speaking of familiarity, on this second Sunday of Advent we find ourselves once again on the banks of the River Jordan with John the Baptist. We should be used to it by now, but that wild  prophet John still jars as a bit of a party-pooper as we look toward Christmas.
It’s tempting to reduce the image of this provocative wild man dressed in a rough garments to a cartoon character on a street corner with a placard saying “Get ready – the end is near!”  However, all four Gospel writers agree that there is no good news – no Gospel of Jesus – without John the Baptist. He has to be included in the story.

Jesus himself describes John as the greatest of prophets. A prophet, we remember, is not one who foretells the future but one who speaks as mouthpiece of God. John took his mission, which was to declare the imminent arrival of the coming Messiah, very seriously and feared no one, not even Herod or Herod’s wife, who in the end arranged to have John’s head. He was totally devoted to the One for whom he came to prepare the way, saying to his followers, “I baptise you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals.”
When John proclaims, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near,” crowds from Jerusalem and the surrounding regions come out to hear him and to be baptised in the Jordan.

So why do they flock to hear John?

It helps to remember here, the Biblical understanding of the term ‘repent’ is deeply shaped by the Jewish experience of exile. To repent, to return, is to follow the prepared way of the Lord that leads out of separation and back into reconnection.
Reconnection with the God who made us and loves us beyond our understanding.

John is out in the wilderness – far away from the places of power. He sees the world through the lens of wilderness experience and reminds us, then and now, that God’s people endured the wilderness – with all its confusions, ill-will, and foolishness – as they fled from the Egyptian Pharaoh’s tyranny. For years they struggled with God’s call on their lives, often abusing it with their disobedience.

Perhaps venturing into the wilderness to be with John reminds the crowd of their ancestors’ struggles, allowing them to hear John’s call to repent, more as invitation than judgment – as an invitation to come home.

To repent doesn’t mean simply to be sorry. In the New Testament, to repent means to begin seeing differently, to begin thinking differently, both of which lead to acting and living differently. To repent is to change, but not for the sake of change itself. Rather, when we change we start to live differently, and as we develop a new way of seeing, we become aware that our actions are out of step with God’s dream for all creation.

What then is God’s dream for all creation? The answer to that question can be found throughout Scripture. One illustration can be found in today’s reading from Isaiah: God’s dream is for the world to be a place in which peace and equity – rather than fear and hatred – rule the day. God dreams for the world to be a place where we view each other with compassion and with love, where all of creation is full of the mercy and the peace of God.

God dreams of community … wherein we love one another, as neighbours, with all our heart, soul and mind, and that God calls us to live into this dream, not next year, not ten years from today, but right now.
It is a desire that John himself expresses with the phrase that always comes after the verb ‘repent’. He doesn’t just shout, “Repent!” and stop there. He links the call to repentance with the ‘why’: “the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

For those of us who follow God in the Way of Love, it is Jesus who defines our new way of seeing, our new mindset, and our way back to God. Deciding to try to live and love like Jesus is what Christian repentance is all about.

Dear friends, what if we choose to hear this prophet’s call – “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” – not as an ominous threat of impending judgment, but as an invitation to live into God’s dream?

Even now, there are prophets rising up in our midst. We cannot ignore our young people who dream of having a future in which they can enjoy God’s creation, but often feel that their dreams are threatened because of climate change, economic unfairness and violence. They are demanding change to protect their lives and God’s creation so they and their children may enjoy the abundant life God desires for them – “and a little child shall lead them,” says Isaiah.

Advent invites us all to dream of something beyond what we can presently see – injustice, inequality, prejudice, ignorance, poverty, hunger, illiteracy, powerlessness, and hopelessness? Can we let John invade our indifference by asking what part we play in these dis-eases? How will we live knowing the hardship of the homeless and the hungry, the suffering of migrants, refugees, seemingly increased acts of violence and, especially, pointless war?
These are dreams by which to set a course. God does not ask us if we are there yet, but rather whether we are headed in the right direction. We as children of God need to heed the voice of the one crying out in the wilderness – the voice that reminds us of God’s dream.

We need to take the time to seek God’s vision for ourselves; to ask, “What does God want us to be and to do?”
Could we choose one element of our lives – just one, for now – where we see the need for repentance, and take advantage of the opportunity to change direction?

And, following Paul’s counsel, we who have glimpsed God’s dream must now share that hope. Like John, we must strive to renew the hopes of an exhausted world. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

“Repent, live into God’s Dream.” This is John the Baptist’s invitation for us to come home and to be the people God has created us to be.

Prepare the way of the Holy One,
           make a straight path.
                           — Matthew 3.3

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” – Romans 15:13

Message in a Bucket

Here’s a story that you’ve probably heard before, but I want to wring a novel moral out of it.

A water bearer had two buckets, one hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One bucket had a split in it, the other was near perfect. At the end of each walk from the stream, the split bucket always arrived only half full. The perfect bucket arrived proud of its performance, fulfilled in the design for which it was made. But the poor split bucket was ashamed of its flaw, and miserable that it couldn’t accomplish what it felt it had been made to do. One day the flawed bucket spoke to the water bearer.
“I am ashamed of myself and I apologize to you.”
“Why?” asked the bearer. “What are you ashamed of?”
“I am only ever able to deliver half my load because this split in my side causes water to leak out all the time.”
The water bearer, in his compassion, said, “Today I want you to notice the flowers along the path.”

Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old split bucket noticed the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and was cheered somewhat. The bearer asked the bucket, “Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, and not on the other bucket’s side? I’ve always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we’ve walked, you’ve watered them. Your flaw has been a real blessing.”

Flaws, properly deployed, need not despond but can bless.  Even more constructively … I like to explain ‘potential’ to my students in terms of a sand bucket:
You are a bucket, I might say to them.  (I’d show them a bucket.)  This bucket represents your full potential.  How full is your bucket right now?  How … no, don’t look at that other guy’s bucket!  You can’t compare your bucket to his … No, how can we get more sand into your bucket?  What’ll it take?  Imagine your bucket full. What steps can you take to get there?  Let’s make a plan.

See, we’re all born with a certain amount of potential, framed in terms of time, abilities, opportunities – and flaws.  Enhanced by experience and education.  The other girl is born with her own potential and opportunities.  It’s pointless – damaging even – to compare ourselves to her.  She has her potential, I have mine.  Different.  Uncomparable.
The wisdom is to consider our own bucket of sand, and interrogate it.  How short of full is it?  How can it be fuller?  What would it look like full, and how could I get there?
How we answer these questions will determine how close we get – flawed or not – to our full potential.

The admirable Sir Murray Halberg died yesterday, at 89.  There is a man, physically disabled, who died with a full bucket.

We can reach the end of our path knowing that we’ve made the most of our abilities and inclinations and opportunities, and couldn’t have done better with what we had.  Not envying anyone else; having reached our potential; and content with that.