stfrancischurchtairuanz

Reflections on F D Maurice

by Bishop Bruce Gilberd

This reflection scripts a presentation on the controversial nineteenth century theologian Frederick Denison Maurice, given by Bishop Bruce at St Francis Church, Tairua, on Sunday September 11th. Given its ‘seminar’ origin, it is denser than our usual weekly reflections.

We have in Maurice a priest, a theologian, a philosopher, a socialist, a Christian, a pastor and preacher.
He was ahead of his time, and still inspires those who grasp his truths. He influenced archbishops of Canterbury throughout the twentieth century – notably William Temple and Michael Ramsay.

Maurice walks us through a critical period of nineteenth century theological debate: where is God present and to be found?

The Man and his Life

Briefly … born in 1805. (Napoleonic Wars in progress.) Father a Unitarian. Religious divisions in the home handled gently. Attended Cambridge University but unable to graduate, as he did not yet belong to the Church of England.

A diffident and shy person.
Felt the call to baptism and ordination at 29, and wrote, “I not only believe in the Trinity in Unity, but I find it the centre of all my beliefs.”
Served as a curate for two years in Warwickshire, then went to Guy’s Hospital (central London) as a chaplain; then rector of St Peter’s at Lincoln’s Inn (one of four ‘Inns of Court’ in London to which barristers of England and Wales belong).
Wrote his seminal book The Kingdom of Christ (1838).

Married in 1837. Two children. Wife died eight years later. Remarried in 1849.

Became Professor of Ecclesiastical History at King’s College London in 1846. Published many sermons and several books.
Was always looking for involvement in society. Established and headed up an enterprise called the Working Men’s College. He was wanting to deal with the real issues of society. [At King’s College there were complaints about his ‘socialism’.]

Conflict also arose from his 1853 publication Theological Essays. He had written, “How can a loving God consign most of the human race, made in his image, to eternal punishment?”

He was asked to leave.

He then became Professor of Moral Philosophy at Cambridge University, having a significant teaching and pastoral ministry there, continued to work as a theologian and philosopher.

Maurice died in 1872.

Key Features of Maurice’s Thinking and Teaching:

In no particular order …

Maurice articulated seminal thoughts about God, the status of humankind, the nature of the catholic (universal) church, of which the Anglican Church is a part, and the relationship of the church to society, and to the state.
His sources were the Old and the New Testaments, the wisdom of the ages, God-given reason, and his own mind and faith.
He sought to define the principles and constitution of what it means to be the Church – its roots (downward) and its fruits (upward). And to do this, how we need to look back, look around, and look forward, to distil key principles.
Contemplation of all this must lead to action; this involved him in educating and pastoring working people of London.
Wherever we find costly love, and truth (reason, scientific, theological), there is God, doing his work, directly and through people. God is in both the secular and the sacred. How can we split what God embraced in his incarnation?
Maurice had a deep yearning for unity – in the church and in the nation. He had no time for “parties” in either.
The fatherhood of God, the brotherhood of men (this was the nineteenth century!).
The Bible is about the history of God’s actions towards humanity, not men’s thoughts about God.
Christ is King of the human race. He is the unifying person.
So he sought a just society. He thought socialism was an expression of this.
He (to me) over-equates the ‘Kingdom of God’ with the Church. Jesus did preach the Kingdom of God, God’s reign amongst us, and brings us into it. I also realise Paul wrote God “loved the Church and gave himself for it”.
Is there not a case therefore for the Church’s mission to be the establishment of the Kingdom?
[But I find it hard to sing the line in the hymn which runs: “The Church of God a Kingdom is”!]
The Church is human society in its normal state.
Maurice understood that humanity had a diseased will; the Gospel and public worship heals and matures our personal and corporate will, and our reason, which he regarded as including sense, understanding and imagination.
Then he emphasises the point that Christianity without a church exercising spiritual authority is vanity and a delusion. No place for ‘solo Christians’!
[Some say Maurice’s writings are a peculiar mixture of the conservative and the radical!]
He writes that Christ comes, in the incarnation, into the world he made, so it readily makes itself his home; and he lights everyone coming into the world (John 1). All are made in God’s likeness and image. But our “condemnation lies in us not owning this truth.”
Maurice refused to define the church’s boundaries.
He saw one of his roles as being to uncover the faith which so many of its defenders buried. He had a great reverence for truth. Truth is not relative. (Compare with today’s views.) Propaganda precludes a zeal for the truth – about God, humanity, life.
He understood Christ’s self-offering on the cross as not our substitute, but as our representative. Christ’s crucifixion is about … love, obedience, sacrifice, liberation, burden-bearing, triumph, disclosure, revelation, …
Maurice viewed the Church not only as the home of the redeemed but as the sign that God had redeemed the whole human race, and the whole human race was, potentially, ‘in Christ’.
His call to all was, “Become what you are.”
We are to live ethically. Not from dread of punishment or to achieve favour – but because we are profoundly thankful.
A right relationship with God inevitably leads believers, and the Church, to the pursuit of justice.
Our study of God – theology – must affect our hearts and our consciences. Yet, dogmatism and secularism are both signs of unbelief.
In Christ, on the cross, what humanity most needs has been completely given – a reliable eternal bridge, a relationship, between God and us.
There’s nothing created which Christ has not redeemed, he says. And, sins hinder but do not quench the life of Christ in us. Like the dark stains on silverware, our sin can be ‘polished off’ the silver beneath.
The Inspirer of the Bible writers is the same One who now dwells in and inspires the reader.

Relevance to Today’s Church and Society

Drawing on these thoughts of FD Maurice, I suggest the following for today:

Wherever truth and costly love are found (in the ancient but unattributed maxim), thus:
In essentials: unity … In non-essentials: liberty … In all things: charity.
In life, in science, in other faiths, in people … look for truth and love.

The Church is a pivotal sign of what humanity is called to be, and must be engaged in service to society – personally and as Christians together.
We serve out of our thankfulness. No other motive is worthwhile.
Christ inaugurated the Reign of God and, in the Sermon on the Mount, enunciated its roots and principles.
Go beneath ‘parties’ and differences and structures to the unifying taproot – Christ redeeming all humankind – he is King of the human race.
Worship, prayer, contemplation must lead to action. We seek a just society.
… and so on …

There is both anchorage and freedom in Maurice’s theology, echoed in James K Baxter’s poem Song to the Holy Spirit (see here).

Corollary

Archbishop of Canterbury Michael Ramsay wrote, “Maurice loved his fellow men (sic) and walked humbly with his God.”

And (finally) St Augustine wrote, “We would not be searching for God unless he had already found us.”

Finishing

by Pat Lee

(Based on Luke 14:25-33; Deut 30:15-20)

Bruce Gilberd in his book One Thought for Today, on the subject of ‘Questions’, writes, “It is worth noting a question indicates we are on a quest – a journey into knowledge, into achievement, info, self-realisation, into awareness of God. Jesus asked a lot of questions. And, yes, he also made pivotal statements.”

Today’s readings involve a lot of those things. But first, I want to ask you some questions. What brought you to Tairua? Why did you come here and not somewhere else? Have any of you always lived here?
God has brought each of us here for a reason.

Michael and I came to Tairua for four days at the end of 1989, through New Year, and then back to Auckland. We had passed through several years before, on a very stormy Anzac weekend, on our way to Hahei. I don’t remember Tairua even registering because of the thundery weather at the time. However, we came back for those four days, to Enid Bennett’s bach, and fell in love with the place and decided we wanted to retire here.

After looking carefully into our finances, we bought a section in Hornsea Road and started building our house in 1992, but only the top part because that was all we could afford then. We came over here quite a lot, while we were living in Christchurch, before Michael died. When that happened, I had to decide what I was going to do. This is the place I came to, because it was where my still unfinished house was, and the only placed I owned (because we lived in a vicarage).

So what is the connection between this passage and Luke’s. It took me a while to see it, but then I read a piece written by Thomas Conley¹. He says, “Both of these passages are talking about finishing the job.”

I thought that it was my decision to come here, but through the 23 years of living here, I have discovered that it was where God wanted me to come and serve him. We are all here because God wants and needs us to be here. God has a task for each of us in this place.

Moses was in the exact place God needed him to be. Today’s Deuteronomy reading has Moses telling the Israelites that they need to obey God’s commands, keep his laws, and persevere as they are about to enter the Promised Land. It’s taken them forty years to get to this promised land, because of their constant grumbling, moaning and disobedience.
Moses is quite blunt because he knows that God does not break his promises; but they need to obey because there will be consequences if they don’t. “But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray and bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess.”
Strong words.

Moses was encouraging the Israelites to persevere and obey God’s commands to finish the job as they enter the Promised Land, and possess it. There were going to be many difficulties to face but as long as they persevere and obey God’s commands, they would be all right. Many of them, sadly, didn’t.

Conley says, “Jesus is saying the same thing. Taking the cross, being a disciple, counting the cost, finishing the tower or, in the case of the king, having enough soldiers to complete the battle plans, are all related to Moses’s final instructions to his people.”

As we come before the table by which we are reminded symbolically of Jesus’s dedication in completing the job he started, what comes to the fore? Is it the matter of perseverance?

Moses says, “Persevere in the principles (laws) that have brought you to the lip of the Promised Land.” And Jesus says, “Persevere in toting the cross and finishing the ‘tower’ you have begun. Both of them say, “Work hard at what you have started and persevere to complete the task.”

My first task here in Tairua was to finish my house. I enlisted Ray who was a retired builder with whom I had become friends, to give me the help I needed, as I had no idea even where to begin. We married in 2002, but even before that, God had given me a second task which was to help Ray, because, as our friendship grew, it became obvious to me that he needed help and support. He had quite a few health issues. As time went on, his health deteriorated, but you seldom heard him complain. Since his death late in 2015, God has given me other things to do, like writing reflections.

But let’s go back to the Luke reading for a moment. Does God really want us to hate our families, as verses 25 -27 state?
I don’t think so. I think these verses are telling us that within our own families there will be misunderstandings and conflicts because, as Christians, we need to follow Christ and obey his teachings.
Many of our family members do not have a personal relationship with Jesus. This causes them to live very different lifestyles to us. Some of them may even think that those of us who go to church are wasting our time when we could be out doing all kinds of other things on a Sunday morning. I know many in my family think it’s all about the must not do’s or must do’s, and cannot see that there is freedom in following God’s laws, and do not understand how much Jesus did for me, and all of us.

I see this as one of the costs I have to pay for following Christ. I love my family. But I know Jesus’s way is the better way and that is my choice.

How about you? Are you doing what God brought you here to do, or are you still just going about doing the things you like and enjoy? Have you been willing to pay the cost of giving up things that you like doing to follow what God really wants you to do instead, and persevering with it until the job is finished?

¹Thomas H Conley – The Ministers Manual, 1987 Edition, edited by James Cox

Pollyanna Part Three: Choosing Gladness

Very well, to complete this tri-series – which began as one but became three – let me lift the trophy and call it a famous rubber, the best of three.

I downplayed pessimism here, and up-played optimism here (with reservations); and now, third, to deflate any derision inherent in the dismissive term or label, ‘Pollyanna-ish’.

Optimism, of course, can be excessive and simply a denial of reality. Such a disposition is sometimes termed pollyannarism, after the children’s book Pollyanna (written by Eleanor Porter in 1913) and the subsequent 1960 movie. When we think of a Pollyanna, we might think of someone who is foolishly optimistic or excessively happy.

But the book doesn’t really present Pollyanna in that light at all. It tells of a little girl orphaned when her father, a minister, dies. Her only relative is an unpleasant and severe aunt in Vermont who takes her in. But Pollyanna is an optimist who somehow manages to find a bright side to everything. Her favourite word is “glad,” and she plays something she calls a “Glad Game”, in which she tries to find something in every situation, no matter how bad, to be glad about.

For example, when she arrives in Vermont she mistakes the servant who meets her for her aunt. “Oh, Aunt Polly,” she declares, “I’m so glad you’ve come to meet me.”
“But I’m not your Aunt Polly,” says the servant. “She stayed home.”
After taking a moment to absorb this, Pollyanna beams and replies, “Well, I’m glad Aunt Polly didn’t come to meet me – because now I can still look forward to meeting her and I have you for a friend besides!”

Pollyanna’s cheerfulness eventually begins to transform her aunt into a pleasant and loving person, and, in fact, the whole town becomes a different place because of Pollyanna.

The real question of the book is — what is the substance in Pollyanna’s optimism?

The book was written from a Christian perspective, and there’s a tender chapter in the middle in which the town minister is discouraged, to the point of resignation. Things haven’t gone well at church, and people are critical and divided. One day he rides into the forest to ponder things; his spirits are lower than they’ve ever been. Pollyanna is playing in the woods; sees him and notes his depressed expression.

“l know how you feel,” she says, as they talk. “Father used to feel like that too … I reckon ministers do a lot. My father grew mighty discouraged until he found his rejoicing texts.”
“His what?”
“Well, that’s what father used to call ‘em. Of course, the Bible didn’t name ‘em that. But it’s all those that begin, “Be glad in the Lord”, or “Rejoice greatly”, or “Shout for joy”, and all that, you know – such a lot of ‘em. Once, when Father felt ‘specially bad, he counted ‘em. There were eight hundred of ‘em.”
“Eight hundred!”
“Yes. That told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that’s why father named ‘em the ‘rejoicing texts’. Father said that if God took the trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must want us to do it …”

That’s pollyannarism. See – a slightly different spin than the modern idiom tends to give it. We learn that her cheerfulness wasn’t really an air-headed escape from reality into the fanciful world of contrived positive thinking. It was instead a simple childlike confidence, learned from her father, trusting God and rejoicing in all life’s ups-and-downs. Seeking things to be thankful for even in the least promising of situations. (She is paralysed in a fall from a window.)

This is a bar all eyes might fix upon. Optimism, generally, and pollyannarism specifically are a hopeful, tentative confidence based on gladness or gratitude for any little thing we can identify, and a God who “works all things for the good of those who love him”, despite how those “things” might look (Romans 8:28).

There is sound cause for hope in the direst of times.

Ken F

Place of Honour?

by Joan Fanshawe

(Based on Luke 14.1-14; Prov 25:6-7)

It has been said that if Jesus came and walked the streets today, people in Christian churches might not recognise him or want to hear what he had to say.

Jesus wasn’t known for his politeness around the dinner table; or … Jesus wasn’t known for his politeness. The Gospels record him bluntly challenging the social order of the day many times.

Although it might be surprising to hear today that Jesus has been asked to a Sabbath meal by a leader of the Pharisees, Jesus was actually an acceptable guest – that is, he was very well versed in the Scriptures and Torah rules.

Bill Loader, Emeritus Professor in New Testament studies at Murdoch University, Perth, points out in his commentary on this passage that Jesus’s greatest conflicts were with those closest to him: the Pharisees.
Why?
Probably because they felt betrayed by his behaviour. He was observant of Torah but in a radically different way – more about setting priorities perhaps. They had no answer when he challenged them about his healing on the Sabbath, but they were watching him closely.

In this passage, what Jesus challenges is a customary rule of favour and status that was the social norm in that all important arena of gathering to eat together.

These days, meals are too easily obtained by most of us, for us to really appreciate their major role in the ancient world. Group meals, including wedding banquets or communal meals, were important community events, some being of such significance that they became the life and identity of a group. We know this was so in the earliest Christian communities where the Eucharist had its setting in a group meal.

Among the ‘rules’ for meals of this kind, there will be a correct order of seating. There is a place for the most important and the least important and everyone in between.
In first century Palestine, reclining on one elbow beside a very low table, or on low couches, had become the established fashion and is reflected in most meals mentioned in the gospels. (Disciples reclining beside Jesus on other occasions would probably also have had places. In John’s gospel we read that the ‘disciple whom Jesus loved’ was seated in intimate proximity to him.)

So in the ancient world, place was guarded most jealously. Society was strongly hierarchical. There was a place on the ladder. For many it was a matter of economic survival to make sure they either stayed where they were, or climbed higher. Position was not just a matter of individual achievement, it was in some sense given by the group. Your value was inseparable from what others thought about you. Most to be feared was to lose your place, to be embarrassed, to be publicly humiliated by having to take a lower place.

This is the setting for what appears at first as a bit of practical advice. Like many sages of the day, and like today’s Proverbs reading, Jesus instructs the would-be go-getters to avoid putting themselves in the position where a demotion might occur. Indeed some commentators leave it at that, so that Jesus is simply giving advice to go-getters. Perhaps Luke read it that way and connected the sentiment, ‘If you want to be exalted, humble yourself!’

But Loader points this out as a contradiction in terms, because such strategies very often result in a false humility driven by self-interest and personal advancement, thus defeating the purpose.

Because after offering this free advice on how to climb the social ladder, Jesus then dismantles it by exposing the underlying social structures which maintain these ladders of power and privilege.
“Next time you’re planning a lunch or dinner,” he says to his host, “don’t invite those who are within your circle, don’t invite those who can influence your advancement. Instead, send invitations to those who cannot return the favour in any way. Invite the unclean, the poor, the marginalised, especially those who have no access to the parties that matter. Then you will be blessed and rewarded at the resurrection of the righteous.”

Does Jesus really mean that we should put people in our social debt who cannot repay us because we will be repaid by God when we get to the pearly gates? Are we to help the poor and needy in order to build up points for our own future salvation?

Loader calls that spiritual capitalism at its worst, and he isn’t alone: others have similar reservations and we know it does happen.

Sometimes we are tempted to confuse privilege with blessing. This is especially dangerous if we name our privilege as a blessing from God. One way of understanding the Gospel is to see it as a call to transform our privilege into blessing for others – who ordinarily are denied either privilege or blessing.
The whole Gospel of Christ invites us to acknowledge God’s love for all people and to act in a whole-hearted belief in that love. Acceptance of being beloved of God oneself and then sharing love fully in all directions. Taking up this invitation to love is an invitation to life which, when lived generously, is its own reward.

The lines of love – for God, for others and, yes, for our own self, need to be closely entwined; the connection becomes frail if one element fails. Being aware of our actions, some might call it self-examination, leading to confession – can keep us from getting caught up in thoughts and actions that can deny the fullness of life to others in the pursuit of our own interests.
Always accepting and gratefully affirming that the strand of God’s love for us never falters and we need not be afraid.

How then does this passage have any connection with what happens at the banquet of life today? I found it very timely to see recently a story about New Zealanders sharing a banquet. Called The Table, this was done comic book style and as I can’t show you the cartoons I’ll read the captions in order:
Imagine you’re invited to a dinner.
There are ten guests, ten seats at the table and ten plates of food.
But when you sit down to eat, one person is served nearly six meals (5.8 to be precise). Four people get a meal each. Then five people have to share one fifth of a meal between them.
And that’s dinner in New Zealand!
That is the distribution of wealth in NZ, based on Statistics NZ’s 2020-21 Household Economic survey.
This showed the richest 10% of adults hold 58% of NZ’s wealth. That means money in the bank as well as assets like property or cars, minus debts.
At the other end of the table, the poorer half of the country holds just 2%!
Of course, in reality it didn’t get served up like this out of the blue – it’s happened over generations.
And while individual effort does matter, it’s also true that wealth leads to more wealth and poverty leads to more poverty.
Uncomfortable words jar into our consciousness: colonisation, dawn raids, child abuse, and discriminatory wage gaps are some such words.
But being conflict averse we don’t say anything about it, do we?
Max Rashbrooke, author of Too much money and inequality; a New Zealand Crisis, features in the comic strip, saying this should be a source of great embarrassment to us, because we think we’re very egalitarian, and it’s awkward to acknowledge.

Here is the link to the whole piece:
https://thespinoff.co.nz/society/16-08-2022/the-side-eyes-two-new-zealands-the-table

Rashbrooke has further comments – not wanting to make it an ‘us versus them’ argument, but suggesting that a fairer distribution of wealth could mean a world (or a table) that’s better for 50% of New Zealanders.
I don’t know what the answer is – but I am sure that this Jesus-inspired life of love for others that we are called to must include facing this situation openly, to find a better and fairer solution that doesn’t rely on ‘feel good’ charity.

Last week our church children were introduced to some new words: ‘Hypocrite’ (which Michal remembered meant not practising what you preach). And ‘the Pharisees’ (whom we’ve met today again today). Jesus called these religious ones out for failing to follow the important matters of the law – justice, mercy and faithfulness.

Can we think boldly about ways to ‘share what we have’? Or, better, think boldly about ways the dominant economic system needs to change, so that wealth, resources, and opportunities to enjoy them are more fairly accessible to everyone.

I add these quotes in closing:

“When I feed the poor they call me a saint. When I ask why so many people are poor they call me a communist.” (The late Archbishop Dom Helder Câmara, of Brazil)
“Jesus did not die suggesting a more caring and sharing society. He was executed for demanding a radically transformed society in which ALL of God’s children are fed adequately and with dignity. Capitalism would have him executed today as well.” (Anonymous blogger on davidlose.net)

Dear God, draw us ever nearer in your love so that we might always have the confidence to be that love for others, as Jesus teaches us. Amen