1 Samuel 16:7: “But Yahweh [God] said to Samuel, “Do not look on one’s appearance or on the height of one’s stature… for I do not see as mortals see. They look on the outward appearance, but I look on the heart.”
It’s a great verse for the ugly, fat, and impotent! Power and looks are something that we are all meant to aspire to and never quite be satisfied with. Wouldn’t it be great if Hollywood chose its stars on the state of their hearts?
The context of the verse though is leadership – it is part of the ‘Rise of King David’ legend. And it is still as relevant today in the context of political and church leadership as it was when the biblical writers first ascribed these words to God.
As you may recall Saul preceded David as king. He was the first king of Israel. Saul had not aspired to kingship. He had considered himself the ‘least of all people in Israel’[i]. The prophet Samuel and Yahweh the God had other ideas. Saul was to be the solution to the Ammonite and Philistine problems. They were persistently pesky neighbours. The former he dealt to, the latter he tried to but failed.
It is maybe not surprising that when victory seemed elusive that the writers turned against King Saul. This is standard political behaviour – failure to produce results is not tolerated for long. Consider too that they were writing in King David’s time and needed to explain Saul’s demise and why the mantle of Yahweh’s favour was transferred to David. The authors portray Saul as fated to fail: exhibiting bouts of unrestrained violence, obsession with control, irrational jealousy, and, behind it all, military impotency. The troubles of this emergent monarchy were psychologically transferred onto its leader.
Leadership often attracts such response. People then and now psychologically project their fears and hopes onto their leader. If he or she does not act decisively, deal to the enemy, or exhibit some other way of being strong, the populace reject him or her. Leadership unfortunately is frequently the art of appearances. It is often hard, as is the case currently with the U.S primary contest between Hillary Clinton and Barak Obama, to see beneath the appearances to the substance and character of the leader.
Our story today has the prophet Samuel, the same who anointed/appointed Saul travelling to Bethlehem intent on anointing/appointing someone new. Samuel is acting rebelliously to bring Saul’s kingship to an end. So he goes with the alibi of making a sacrifice to Yahweh. The people however are not fooled [v.4], they know what his mission is and are very apprehensive.
Samuel gets instructions to check out the sons of Jesse and discern who is destined for power. Starting with the eldest, who would naturally have primacy, Samuel works down the male members of the family. Yahweh whispers to the prophet not to look on their height [read military prowess] or their good looks. Yahweh is interested in male hearts.
Of course after this anointing of David the royal apologists write up David as having military prowess, as shown in the slay-the-giant saga, and as being handsome. Goliath comments on how tanned and handsome David was [NIV 1 Samuel 17:42]. It seems that although the Divine might look at the heart we humans quickly forget about hearts and concentrate on leaders’ power and appearance.
It is somewhat unnerving to consider how relevant a passage of Scripture written in some 2,500 years ago can be to today. I think it behoves us to spend a few minutes contemplating what might be involved in heart leadership.
Firstly, heart leadership involves compassion. The roots of compassion are important. The leader must deeply sense that they are special only because everyone is special. The leader must not think they are uniquely talented and chosen in a way that makes them look down on others they or associates deem to be untalented and unchosen. Leaders need to have a strong sense of solidarity with all humanity. When the people hurt they must feel that hurt.
Allied with this is the humility to accept the gifts that others bring, and the realization that one person doesn’t have it all. People need a leader who makes them feel part of a team, an enterprise. A leader uses the word ‘we’ often. A leader depends on the strengths of the team, and vice versa. A leader is not the only person in the eye of the camera. There is nothing bad about needing each other. The myth of the self-made, self-contained man or woman needs to die on the humble altar of acknowledging our need of each other.
The power of a heart leader is that of influence not authority. I think theology has something to teach us in this regard. I believe God is like an animating spirit of love that works through people. This spirit of love has a power - but it’s not the power of armies, wealth, and empire. It is not the power of control. It is instead the power of a changed heart, a forgiving spirit, and a fearless hospitality. This is not the power of coercion, violence, or manipulation. Therefore it is seemingly not all that strong at all. But it is the power of self-giving love that I believe and hope has the strength to endure beyond every despot, and every inflated ego.
A heart leader must have the courage to risk being unpopular. My colleague Clay has a metaphor about earning and spending poker chips. A leader earns chips [goodwill] from his or her constituency as he or she works for them, building trust and respect. There comes though a time when a good leader will spend the chips – namely ask the people to follow him or her even if they disagree with them. I think the recent passing of the law curtailing the convention of smacking children is a good example of both major parties choosing to do what was right rather than what was popular. I long for the day when vicars and bishops will spend their ‘chips’ and support social changes that the majority of New Zealanders may be uncomfortable with. Goodwill needs to be spent for the betterment of the marginalized.
Lastly a heart leader needs to call us beyond our own needs and wants. Most leaders today seem to be managers – ably, or not so ably, managing budgets, people, projects, and expectations. In a diverse and cosmopolitan society political practice quickly becomes the art of management. People, like the media, are problems to be managed. Appearances and power need to be maintained.
Leadership however is different. It offers people a vision of joining with something bigger than themselves. Something so big every barrier is broken, every prejudice challenged, every person embraced, and every heart expanded. When faith, hope, and love are reduced to membership cards of an elite club we have lost the big picture. Real faith is the courage to risk, real hope is the energy of making dreams come true, and real love is self-giving generosity. These don’t belong in any club or party. They are wild and free.
I hope in this year of elections that those who aspire to leadership will know the importance of compassion, the importance of solidarity with all, the importance of the need of others, the importance of the power of love, the importance of the courage to risk, and the importance of calling us to something bigger than ourselves.
As Jesse’s sons were paraded before Samuel the Hebrew verb ‘to see’ occurred repeatedly. The focus is on how one sees when choosing leaders. There is always the temptation to see what is on offer, what is exceptional in appearance, what meets accepted standards, what is impressive, what is beautiful, what seems secure, appropriate and fitting. But in God’s eyes such things are irrelevant. The prophet Samuel courageously seeks out more alternatives. It is the heart that is at stake – the heart of the leader and the hearts of the people.
[i] 1 Samuel 9:21
2/28/2008
2/27/2008
Dear God I Don't Want To Be Saved
Dear God,
All things considered life is very good.
So, without sounding ungrateful,
I don’t want to be go to heaven,
I don’t want to be rescued,
and I don’t want to be saved.
If that’s all religion is you can keep it in a church.
I do though want to be part of something big.
Something much bigger than me.
Something so big that every barrier is broken,
every prejudice challenged,
every person embraced,
and every heart expanded.
If faith is only for the faithful,
if hope is only for the deserving,
and if love is only for the lovable,
then they are worthless, glittering imitations.
For real faith is the courage to risk,
real hope is the energy of dreams
and real love is the essence of divinity,
wherever, and among whomever, they are found.
So God,
shape with me, don’t break with me;
make with me, don’t take me;
join with me, don’t redeem me.
Let’s risk, dream, and love together
joining hands with believers and unbelievers,
the saved and unsaved,
the pious and the pagans…
for life is very good.
Lets make it better.
All things considered life is very good.
So, without sounding ungrateful,
I don’t want to be go to heaven,
I don’t want to be rescued,
and I don’t want to be saved.
If that’s all religion is you can keep it in a church.
I do though want to be part of something big.
Something much bigger than me.
Something so big that every barrier is broken,
every prejudice challenged,
every person embraced,
and every heart expanded.
If faith is only for the faithful,
if hope is only for the deserving,
and if love is only for the lovable,
then they are worthless, glittering imitations.
For real faith is the courage to risk,
real hope is the energy of dreams
and real love is the essence of divinity,
wherever, and among whomever, they are found.
So God,
shape with me, don’t break with me;
make with me, don’t take me;
join with me, don’t redeem me.
Let’s risk, dream, and love together
joining hands with believers and unbelievers,
the saved and unsaved,
the pious and the pagans…
for life is very good.
Lets make it better.
2/22/2008
Keeping the Balance
A parable by Paulo Coelho:
“A certain shopkeeper sent his son to learn about the secret of happiness from a wise man. The lad wandered for many days and finally came upon a beautiful castle. It was there the wise man lived.
Rather than finding a ‘saintly’ man, though, the lad, on entering the main room of the castle, saw a hive of activity: tradesmen came and went, people were conversing in the corridors, a small orchestra was rehearsing, and there was a table covered with mouth-watering food. The wise man conversed with everyone, and the boy had to wait two hours before it was his turn to be given the man’s attention.
The wise man listened attentively to the lad, but told him that he would have to wait to hear the secret of happiness. He suggested the boy explore around the palace and gardens and return in two hours.
“Meanwhile,” I want to ask you to do something”, said the wise man, handing the boy a teaspoon that held two drops of oil. “As you wander around, carry this spoon with you without allowing the oil to spill.”
The boy began climbing and descending the many stairways of the castle, keeping his eyes fixed on the teaspoon. After two hours he returned to where the wise man was.
“Well,” asked the wise man, “did you see the Persian tapestries that are hanging in my dining hall? Did you see the garden that took the master gardener ten years to create? Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?”
The boy was embarrassed, and confessed that he had observed nothing. His only concern had been not to spill the oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.
“Then go back and observe the marvels of my world,” said the wise man.
Relieved the boy picked up the spoon and returned to his exploration of the palace, this time observing all of the works of art on the ceilings and walls. He saw the gardens, the mountains all around, the beauty of the flowers… Upon returning to the wise man, he related in detail everything he had seen.
“But where are the drops of oil I entrusted to you?” asked the wise man.
Looking down at the teaspoon he held, the boy saw that the oil was gone.
“Well, there is only one piece of advice I can give you”, said the wise man. “The secret of happiness is to enjoy all the marvels of the world, but never to forget the drops of oil on the teaspoon.” [1]
The wise man in the parable is familiar with some of our realities. He is busy with multiple demands!! He is not a ‘normal’ wise man. Usually in stories the wise are in a serene state, seemingly unimpeded by demands and expectations. Furthermore the wise are quite detached from wealth and live in poor surroundings. Neither is the case in this parable. The question is therefore posed: “How does one remain wise while living with responsibilities and possessions?”
The lad who is seeking happiness undergoes the teaspoon test twice, and fails both times. The first time he is completely focused on the oil. That teaspoon symbolizes his inner world. He tries to engage with the outer world, the wondrous world he meets in the castle and its grounds, but can’t shift his focus from his inner world.
The inner world, the soul, certainly needs to be cared for. This is the place where the ground of love is prepared, where dreams take root, and where hope is watered. Yet when the inner world becomes one’s sole preoccupation it leads to self-absorption.
In churches we sometimes get people who are totally engrossed with their own spiritual journey that they overlook - sometimes purposefully - the world around them. Their faith is all about them and God. They nurture that teaspoon to the detriment of everything else. They begin to believe the teaspoon is everything.
The second time the lad undergoes the test he is alerted to the outer world. He generously and hospitably welcomes new thoughts and feelings. But in doing so he overlooks his own soul.
The outer world is noisy, busy, and demanding. It is also often colourful, interesting, and exciting. It wants our attention. Indeed it wants our adherence to the latest product it’s peddling. These products are often good, and so we go along.
I had a friend who lived almost solely in the outer world. He was gregarious and welcoming. I imagined him running a great pub. He listened to and discussed life with all and sundry. But I was never sure whom I was talking to. Was I talking to him or to the person he was last talking to? Did the spinning merry-go-round of his life have a centre? Or was it all spin?
“What does it profit a man or woman to gain the whole world and lose his or her own soul?” [Mark 8:36]
The parable reminds us to the importance of both the outer and inner world. It reminds us of the importance of our interaction with the subcultures and issues of our time and the importance of our own soul. It reminds us that neither can be dispensed with.
[1] Adapted from Coelho, Paulo The Alchemist, New York : HarperCollins, 1998, p.32-34.
“A certain shopkeeper sent his son to learn about the secret of happiness from a wise man. The lad wandered for many days and finally came upon a beautiful castle. It was there the wise man lived.
Rather than finding a ‘saintly’ man, though, the lad, on entering the main room of the castle, saw a hive of activity: tradesmen came and went, people were conversing in the corridors, a small orchestra was rehearsing, and there was a table covered with mouth-watering food. The wise man conversed with everyone, and the boy had to wait two hours before it was his turn to be given the man’s attention.
The wise man listened attentively to the lad, but told him that he would have to wait to hear the secret of happiness. He suggested the boy explore around the palace and gardens and return in two hours.
“Meanwhile,” I want to ask you to do something”, said the wise man, handing the boy a teaspoon that held two drops of oil. “As you wander around, carry this spoon with you without allowing the oil to spill.”
The boy began climbing and descending the many stairways of the castle, keeping his eyes fixed on the teaspoon. After two hours he returned to where the wise man was.
“Well,” asked the wise man, “did you see the Persian tapestries that are hanging in my dining hall? Did you see the garden that took the master gardener ten years to create? Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?”
The boy was embarrassed, and confessed that he had observed nothing. His only concern had been not to spill the oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.
“Then go back and observe the marvels of my world,” said the wise man.
Relieved the boy picked up the spoon and returned to his exploration of the palace, this time observing all of the works of art on the ceilings and walls. He saw the gardens, the mountains all around, the beauty of the flowers… Upon returning to the wise man, he related in detail everything he had seen.
“But where are the drops of oil I entrusted to you?” asked the wise man.
Looking down at the teaspoon he held, the boy saw that the oil was gone.
“Well, there is only one piece of advice I can give you”, said the wise man. “The secret of happiness is to enjoy all the marvels of the world, but never to forget the drops of oil on the teaspoon.” [1]
The wise man in the parable is familiar with some of our realities. He is busy with multiple demands!! He is not a ‘normal’ wise man. Usually in stories the wise are in a serene state, seemingly unimpeded by demands and expectations. Furthermore the wise are quite detached from wealth and live in poor surroundings. Neither is the case in this parable. The question is therefore posed: “How does one remain wise while living with responsibilities and possessions?”
The lad who is seeking happiness undergoes the teaspoon test twice, and fails both times. The first time he is completely focused on the oil. That teaspoon symbolizes his inner world. He tries to engage with the outer world, the wondrous world he meets in the castle and its grounds, but can’t shift his focus from his inner world.
The inner world, the soul, certainly needs to be cared for. This is the place where the ground of love is prepared, where dreams take root, and where hope is watered. Yet when the inner world becomes one’s sole preoccupation it leads to self-absorption.
In churches we sometimes get people who are totally engrossed with their own spiritual journey that they overlook - sometimes purposefully - the world around them. Their faith is all about them and God. They nurture that teaspoon to the detriment of everything else. They begin to believe the teaspoon is everything.
The second time the lad undergoes the test he is alerted to the outer world. He generously and hospitably welcomes new thoughts and feelings. But in doing so he overlooks his own soul.
The outer world is noisy, busy, and demanding. It is also often colourful, interesting, and exciting. It wants our attention. Indeed it wants our adherence to the latest product it’s peddling. These products are often good, and so we go along.
I had a friend who lived almost solely in the outer world. He was gregarious and welcoming. I imagined him running a great pub. He listened to and discussed life with all and sundry. But I was never sure whom I was talking to. Was I talking to him or to the person he was last talking to? Did the spinning merry-go-round of his life have a centre? Or was it all spin?
“What does it profit a man or woman to gain the whole world and lose his or her own soul?” [Mark 8:36]
The parable reminds us to the importance of both the outer and inner world. It reminds us of the importance of our interaction with the subcultures and issues of our time and the importance of our own soul. It reminds us that neither can be dispensed with.
[1] Adapted from Coelho, Paulo The Alchemist, New York : HarperCollins, 1998, p.32-34.
1/23/2008
Camping with Mormons
Summer time in our family means camping and the beach. Each year we get out the tents and other essential paraphernalia, load the surfboards and sunscreen, and head north. We are what some call ‘rough campers’ – preferring the relative peace of an isolated paddock, enjoying the blessed absence of electricity, and tolerating long-drop toilets. The thought of cuddling up in some campground with a host of others doesn’t appeal. This year we were invited to pitch our tents on land belonging to a local Maori family, and inevitably we got to know them and their whanau. They were Mormons.
Now I must confess that I’m not too knowledgeable about the Church of the Latter Day Saints. I’d heard of Joseph Smith, his exclusive interview with an unknown angel, and his ability to write America into the Bible. I’ve read an article or two and shooed a few clean-cut Utah lads off my doorstep, but I’d never really sat down, talked, and eaten with them. Generally I try to avoid those of a fundamentalist bent.
Over the two weeks of our camping holiday as our kids played and swam through lazy days there were lots of opportunities to talk and eat. The grandfather was the paramount chief of the area. I meet three of his children. They all worked in helping professions – one a teacher in a bilingual unit, one running therapy groups in prisons, and one with Drug and Alcohol education. There were lots of aunties and cousins who came by. The Maori sovereignty flag flew above the campsite.
Three things impressed me. Firstly their spirituality was integrated with all they did. It seemed that their culture and how they appropriated their religion affirmed the best in each other. It was no surprise that the family were heavily involved in helping people both in their work environment and at home. Given that spirituality is also integral to all I do we shared a rapport that in many ways transcended our theological differences.
Secondly, the absence of alcohol was refreshing. I am increasingly conscious of the negative effects of alcohol in our culture and the rapid rise of alcohol abuse among young people. I would love New Zealanders, including churches, to voluntarily abstain from alcohol consumption for a year in order to experience life without it. In many places new forms of socialising would have to be tried. This family we met are proving it can be done and life can still be very enjoyable.
Lastly, as we talked about politics, culture, and religion there was a refreshing lack of defensiveness and little determination to convert me. They were interested in my perspective. They certainly didn’t have a fundamentalist rigidity about them. When I chided them about the absence of female clergy and their views about gay couples, they would smile but not avoid the issues.
Later one auntie confessed, “We’ve never met anyone like you.” I thought I’d never met anyone like them.
Now I must confess that I’m not too knowledgeable about the Church of the Latter Day Saints. I’d heard of Joseph Smith, his exclusive interview with an unknown angel, and his ability to write America into the Bible. I’ve read an article or two and shooed a few clean-cut Utah lads off my doorstep, but I’d never really sat down, talked, and eaten with them. Generally I try to avoid those of a fundamentalist bent.
Over the two weeks of our camping holiday as our kids played and swam through lazy days there were lots of opportunities to talk and eat. The grandfather was the paramount chief of the area. I meet three of his children. They all worked in helping professions – one a teacher in a bilingual unit, one running therapy groups in prisons, and one with Drug and Alcohol education. There were lots of aunties and cousins who came by. The Maori sovereignty flag flew above the campsite.
Three things impressed me. Firstly their spirituality was integrated with all they did. It seemed that their culture and how they appropriated their religion affirmed the best in each other. It was no surprise that the family were heavily involved in helping people both in their work environment and at home. Given that spirituality is also integral to all I do we shared a rapport that in many ways transcended our theological differences.
Secondly, the absence of alcohol was refreshing. I am increasingly conscious of the negative effects of alcohol in our culture and the rapid rise of alcohol abuse among young people. I would love New Zealanders, including churches, to voluntarily abstain from alcohol consumption for a year in order to experience life without it. In many places new forms of socialising would have to be tried. This family we met are proving it can be done and life can still be very enjoyable.
Lastly, as we talked about politics, culture, and religion there was a refreshing lack of defensiveness and little determination to convert me. They were interested in my perspective. They certainly didn’t have a fundamentalist rigidity about them. When I chided them about the absence of female clergy and their views about gay couples, they would smile but not avoid the issues.
Later one auntie confessed, “We’ve never met anyone like you.” I thought I’d never met anyone like them.
12/24/2007
The Star of Christmas
Most mornings when I open the doors of the Church there are people sleeping in the porch. They are people who sleep rough and live rough. The porch offers some shelter from the wind and rain.
One morning as I greeted the two whose slumber I had disturbed we fell into conversation. They told me they were travelling. They’d come from down South. They told me they were following a star. They also told me they were on a ‘mission from God’.
I smiled. I thought I might find out back some camels wearing dark glasses. They weren’t smiling though, they were dead-certain serious.
There is a biblical admonition to not discount the insights of those labelled foolish. I wondered whether I was missing the reality of what these sojourners could see. Street dwellers’ reality, albeit affected from time to time by substances and illnesses, offers its own wisdom. Just as my reality, albeit affected from time to time by work and worry, offers its own wisdom too.
I asked the two travellers a little more about the star and the direction it was pointing in. They told me: ‘Stars don’t point’. They also told me, with an eye of suspicion, that it was their star and I needed to find my own. The conversation ended shortly afterwards.
But the point was taken. I, we, need to find our own star, our own guide, into the mystery of the night.
Jesus was the real star of Christmas... http://www.stmatthews.org.nz/nav.php?sid=322&id=798
One morning as I greeted the two whose slumber I had disturbed we fell into conversation. They told me they were travelling. They’d come from down South. They told me they were following a star. They also told me they were on a ‘mission from God’.
I smiled. I thought I might find out back some camels wearing dark glasses. They weren’t smiling though, they were dead-certain serious.
There is a biblical admonition to not discount the insights of those labelled foolish. I wondered whether I was missing the reality of what these sojourners could see. Street dwellers’ reality, albeit affected from time to time by substances and illnesses, offers its own wisdom. Just as my reality, albeit affected from time to time by work and worry, offers its own wisdom too.
I asked the two travellers a little more about the star and the direction it was pointing in. They told me: ‘Stars don’t point’. They also told me, with an eye of suspicion, that it was their star and I needed to find my own. The conversation ended shortly afterwards.
But the point was taken. I, we, need to find our own star, our own guide, into the mystery of the night.
Jesus was the real star of Christmas... http://www.stmatthews.org.nz/nav.php?sid=322&id=798
Who is a lucky bear?
Poor Lucky. He didn't expect to be quite so busy this week. What he thought was a rather mild article [2 posts back] has generated all sorts of reaction - mostly good. The latest was a full page interview in the Sunday Star Times with a quirky journalist. Well he didn't seem quirky at the time, but some of his projections are a little strange! On the whole Lucky was please with the article and all the bits in the inverted commas he did actually say. Note though Lucky's mum told him afterwards that in Lucky's youth his mum attended Church more than 'intermittently'. Get your facts straight Lucky!
Anyway, here's the article: http://www.stuff.co.nz/sundaystartimes/4334783a6442.html
Anyway, here's the article: http://www.stuff.co.nz/sundaystartimes/4334783a6442.html
12/20/2007
Being a Troublesome Priest
My article last week in the NZ Herald [copied in full on my posting below] has elicited some extraordinary responses and name calling. One fellow Anglican priest, Michael Hewat, wrote a feature article in the same newspaper giving his understanding of Christmas. I note that like my article his piece has little to do with the infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke. In other words he too is elaborating upon and interpreting the original story. I've re-printed the first part of his article and given the link if you wish to read it all.
Another critic was Garth George, a conservative regular columnist for the paper. Garth's black and white theology is well known and makes most Christians I know cringe. I have also reprinted part of his article and given the link.
Michael Hewat writes:
Christians have got used to the Christ being squeezed out of Christmas by secularism, consumerism and more recently inter-faith PC-ism, but now we are told by the Anglican Archdeacon of Auckland, no less, that Christians must accept that like it or not, Christmas is about more than Jesus.
Glynn Cardy avers approvingly that Jesus is now displaced as the reason for the season. He concludes his Herald Advent message by calling upon all people to celebrate the values of generosity, caring, togetherness and hospitality, values which reflect Christianity but also transcend it, embracing a borderless spirituality.
It's not that I have any quibble with the values he upholds, but I do not like the idea that Jesus is no longer the primary reason, or reason enough, for celebrating Christmas.
I like the idea even less when it is peddled by a senior cleric. My only consolation is that the same cleric argued in the same column last year that Jesus was conceived when Mary, his mother, was raped. He's not to be taken too seriously.
Jesus' place in the Christmas story, however, cannot be taken too seriously - and not only for reasons of faith. Reason itself requires it. As Mr Cardy himself admits, the supposedly universal values which he extols are seldom - if at all - found unadulterated in our society, even at Christmas time.
Generosity is marred by greed, guilt and debt. Hospitality falls prey to inter-family conflict and alcoholic excess. Feasting can be an occasion for calorie overload, and the goodwill of the Christmas season simply underscores for many their grief, isolation or purposelessness in life. Simply calling upon people of whatever faith, culture, or background to celebrate these values does absolutely nothing to empower them to do so.
On the contrary, it highlights their inability to do so, even once a year. It was precisely to address this problem that God sent his Son Jesus into the world.
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/topic/story.cfm?c_id=500818&objectid=10482893
Garth George writes:
I have written often at this time of the year of the reason for the season - the birth of Jesus Christ, Son of Man and Son of God - whose arrival among mankind was the beginning of the greatest story ever told.
This year I have read on this page with amusement and a measure of perplexity the ramblings of that troublesome priest Glynn Cardy, and go along with Hamilton vicar Michael Hewat that Mr Cardy is not to be taken seriously.
The Cardys of this world invariably poke their heads above the parapet at this time of the year (and again at Easter) to reveal how their Christian beliefs have been derailed somewhere along the line.
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/section/466/story.cfm?c_id=466&objectid=10483333
Another critic was Garth George, a conservative regular columnist for the paper. Garth's black and white theology is well known and makes most Christians I know cringe. I have also reprinted part of his article and given the link.
Michael Hewat writes:
Christians have got used to the Christ being squeezed out of Christmas by secularism, consumerism and more recently inter-faith PC-ism, but now we are told by the Anglican Archdeacon of Auckland, no less, that Christians must accept that like it or not, Christmas is about more than Jesus.
Glynn Cardy avers approvingly that Jesus is now displaced as the reason for the season. He concludes his Herald Advent message by calling upon all people to celebrate the values of generosity, caring, togetherness and hospitality, values which reflect Christianity but also transcend it, embracing a borderless spirituality.
It's not that I have any quibble with the values he upholds, but I do not like the idea that Jesus is no longer the primary reason, or reason enough, for celebrating Christmas.
I like the idea even less when it is peddled by a senior cleric. My only consolation is that the same cleric argued in the same column last year that Jesus was conceived when Mary, his mother, was raped. He's not to be taken too seriously.
Jesus' place in the Christmas story, however, cannot be taken too seriously - and not only for reasons of faith. Reason itself requires it. As Mr Cardy himself admits, the supposedly universal values which he extols are seldom - if at all - found unadulterated in our society, even at Christmas time.
Generosity is marred by greed, guilt and debt. Hospitality falls prey to inter-family conflict and alcoholic excess. Feasting can be an occasion for calorie overload, and the goodwill of the Christmas season simply underscores for many their grief, isolation or purposelessness in life. Simply calling upon people of whatever faith, culture, or background to celebrate these values does absolutely nothing to empower them to do so.
On the contrary, it highlights their inability to do so, even once a year. It was precisely to address this problem that God sent his Son Jesus into the world.
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/topic/story.cfm?c_id=500818&objectid=10482893
Garth George writes:
I have written often at this time of the year of the reason for the season - the birth of Jesus Christ, Son of Man and Son of God - whose arrival among mankind was the beginning of the greatest story ever told.
This year I have read on this page with amusement and a measure of perplexity the ramblings of that troublesome priest Glynn Cardy, and go along with Hamilton vicar Michael Hewat that Mr Cardy is not to be taken seriously.
The Cardys of this world invariably poke their heads above the parapet at this time of the year (and again at Easter) to reveal how their Christian beliefs have been derailed somewhere along the line.
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/section/466/story.cfm?c_id=466&objectid=10483333
12/15/2007
The Season Is About More Than Jesus
Whether Christians like it or not Christmas is about more than Jesus. Jesus might have been ‘the reason for the season’ but now the season is about more than him.
There is a lot of buying. Buying presents for family and friends in preparation for the big parcel-ripping day. Buying calorie-laden food and drink for that day too. Buying gifts to thank colleagues, employees, employers, and clients at the year’s end. Buying too a little soul satisfaction by giving to a favourite charity.
Generosity is one of the great things about Christmas. The Santa myth, at its best, encourages people to think beyond their needs and themselves. It invites them to give, to share what they have, to think of others, and to try to help. When a neighbour bakes a batch of muffins and passes them over the gate with a piece of plastic holly attached, the neighbour is also passing over goodwill and helping build a street into a community. This is not to be underestimated. Any religious festival that brings people out of their self-orientated worlds into contact with their neighbours – those they know and those they don’t – is a good and sometimes life-giving thing.
At its worst the Santa myth is despoiled by consumerism, the messages that ‘love’ requires one to buy despite the cost. It’s too easy to just blame shops and advertisers for this. We all have to live with the tension of limiting our purchases to fit with our means and develop the skills to repel the false ‘gods’ of materialism.
There are however a number of people in New Zealand for whom Santa is oppressive. They don’t have the money to satiate Santa. They try to do what they can, often incurring debt. If it’s not bad enough struggling all year to try to meet normal household expenses, Santa comes along to inflict guilt, hardship and a retreat into mind-numbing substances like alcohol. Getting intoxicated at parties can sometimes be a way to escape the pressures of Christmas.
The biggest pressure for many though is not Santa but the happy family myth. There is a good reason some families only come together once or twice a year – it is hard work. There are often unresolved tensions, past grievances, and personal dislikes hidden behind the veneer of the ‘happy’ family. Everyone tries to be on their best behaviour yet sometimes, often with alcohol, the façade falters and that Christmas is forever etched in memory.
Yet for lots of others family is what is precious at Christmas time. It is the coming together of cousins and grandparents, of whanau from overseas, of new-borns and new partners. It is playing cricket in the backyard, eating till you’ll pop, and visiting the cemetery to put flowers on great-granny’s grave.
Food plays a major part in our Christmas communion. We give gifts of food. We dine with workmates as we part for the break. We offer hospitality to others, and are offered hospitality in turn. We feast with our families, and live off the leftovers for the next week. Food connects us with each other. We also try and imagine that at least on this day of the year everyone is tucking in, and feeling blessed.
The whole gift-giving industry has very tenuous Christian links. Yet the generosity shown in welcoming friends and strangers was central to Jesus. Santa is ready prey for those wanting to buy and have others spend. Yet caring for the needs of all especially the least was central to Jesus. Family togetherness is not a reality for many. Yet the health and wellbeing of our social systems has always been important to followers of Jesus. Feasting can be an occasion for calorie overload. Yet it also can be the means by which we open our tables and sometimes our hearts to others.
This Christmas whatever our faith, culture, or background lets try to celebrate the values of generosity, caring, togetherness, and hospitality. These things reflect Christianity but also transcend it, embracing a borderless spirituality.
There is a lot of buying. Buying presents for family and friends in preparation for the big parcel-ripping day. Buying calorie-laden food and drink for that day too. Buying gifts to thank colleagues, employees, employers, and clients at the year’s end. Buying too a little soul satisfaction by giving to a favourite charity.
Generosity is one of the great things about Christmas. The Santa myth, at its best, encourages people to think beyond their needs and themselves. It invites them to give, to share what they have, to think of others, and to try to help. When a neighbour bakes a batch of muffins and passes them over the gate with a piece of plastic holly attached, the neighbour is also passing over goodwill and helping build a street into a community. This is not to be underestimated. Any religious festival that brings people out of their self-orientated worlds into contact with their neighbours – those they know and those they don’t – is a good and sometimes life-giving thing.
At its worst the Santa myth is despoiled by consumerism, the messages that ‘love’ requires one to buy despite the cost. It’s too easy to just blame shops and advertisers for this. We all have to live with the tension of limiting our purchases to fit with our means and develop the skills to repel the false ‘gods’ of materialism.
There are however a number of people in New Zealand for whom Santa is oppressive. They don’t have the money to satiate Santa. They try to do what they can, often incurring debt. If it’s not bad enough struggling all year to try to meet normal household expenses, Santa comes along to inflict guilt, hardship and a retreat into mind-numbing substances like alcohol. Getting intoxicated at parties can sometimes be a way to escape the pressures of Christmas.
The biggest pressure for many though is not Santa but the happy family myth. There is a good reason some families only come together once or twice a year – it is hard work. There are often unresolved tensions, past grievances, and personal dislikes hidden behind the veneer of the ‘happy’ family. Everyone tries to be on their best behaviour yet sometimes, often with alcohol, the façade falters and that Christmas is forever etched in memory.
Yet for lots of others family is what is precious at Christmas time. It is the coming together of cousins and grandparents, of whanau from overseas, of new-borns and new partners. It is playing cricket in the backyard, eating till you’ll pop, and visiting the cemetery to put flowers on great-granny’s grave.
Food plays a major part in our Christmas communion. We give gifts of food. We dine with workmates as we part for the break. We offer hospitality to others, and are offered hospitality in turn. We feast with our families, and live off the leftovers for the next week. Food connects us with each other. We also try and imagine that at least on this day of the year everyone is tucking in, and feeling blessed.
The whole gift-giving industry has very tenuous Christian links. Yet the generosity shown in welcoming friends and strangers was central to Jesus. Santa is ready prey for those wanting to buy and have others spend. Yet caring for the needs of all especially the least was central to Jesus. Family togetherness is not a reality for many. Yet the health and wellbeing of our social systems has always been important to followers of Jesus. Feasting can be an occasion for calorie overload. Yet it also can be the means by which we open our tables and sometimes our hearts to others.
This Christmas whatever our faith, culture, or background lets try to celebrate the values of generosity, caring, togetherness, and hospitality. These things reflect Christianity but also transcend it, embracing a borderless spirituality.
12/12/2007
Christmas Greetings
Dear Revd Glynn,
I hope you have a good Christmas.
Love Isabelle.
xxxxxooooooo
Dear Isabelle.
May your Christmas stocking overflow with what you need
May your Christmas guests overflow with satisfying joy
May your Christmas heart overflow with boundless love
Love,
Revd Glynn
I hope you have a good Christmas.
Love Isabelle.
xxxxxooooooo
Dear Isabelle.
May your Christmas stocking overflow with what you need
May your Christmas guests overflow with satisfying joy
May your Christmas heart overflow with boundless love
Love,
Revd Glynn
12/06/2007
A Pastoral Letter To The Rich
1. As any broker will tell you, there is a difference between price and value. That which costs a lot might not have a lot of value. And conversely what has value might not cost much. When price and value are considered synonymous we stray into the error of assuming that porsches are more important than primary teachers or wars than peace.
2. I’m a spiritual broker, and frankly wealth stuffs up the arteries of the spiritual heart. A moderate amount tastes good. The trick is to learn to curb our appetite before it acquires a prominence in our lives that leads to spiritual death. Today such appetite is extolled as the driver to success. The monks of old called it greed.
3. It is no blessing being poor. Those who think otherwise have never been there. Poverty by means of the cocktail of anxiety, violence, and depression can also destroy the spiritual heart. Escaping poverty involves more than having money, though money helps. Critical to escaping is having a friend who believes in you.
4. Don’t believe the hype that says you earned your wealth. Give credit where it’s due. What your parents, schooling, race, gender and culture gave and give you is very significant in predisposing you to financial success. Luck is not insignificant either. Hard work does not excuse a lack of humility.
5. Don’t believe the hype that equates wealth with wisdom. At the nub of wisdom is the ability to be happy irrespective of success, wealth, and relationships. Too many people make their happiness conditional upon their assets.
6. Ask most dying eighty-year-olds what they wished had had more of and they will say ‘time with loved ones’. That’s the hope of rich and poor alike. Money and success usually won’t buy you time; it will buy you more money and success. Poverty doesn’t buy you time either, it just brings misery. To get time you need to trade in the money, success and misery.
7. Time is a spiritual concept. The Greeks helpfully distinguished between “chronos’’ chronological time and “kairos’’ the right moment. We need to create right moments. Or, as is more often the case, be spiritually tuned so that we are receptive when the right moment comes along. Those who aren’t tuned will miss or stall.
8. You can trade in your money to buy chronos time. You can get a little beach place, bury your blackberry, and take long barefooted walks. You can keep this going for a quite a while catching up on family, novels, and sleep. But eventually the novelty will wear off and you’ll be hankering to get back to work. For meaning hinges on work. Next thing you know you are in the suit, in the car, on the cell phone, in a rush. You missed because you weren’t spiritually tuned.
9. Such tuning is not easy. There is pain involved. The Greeks had a word for this too: ‘kenosis’ self-emptying. In the search for meaning we need to re-order our lives, removing things we have become addicted to and trying to live without them. It isn’t a case of having a ‘balanced life’. Some things are just plain bad.
10. A heart thrives on and generates love. It pumps the oxygen of kindness, tolerance, and compassion through the body and the body politik. As the song says we are made for love. Yet, as the songs also say, we continually screw up, making choices that destroy friendships and the fidelity love needs. Work, instead of being the expression of love, becomes the expression of our need for success. We have got those big three – love, work, and success - out of sync. Dangerously so.
11. Most businesses talk about work and success. They don’t usually talk about love. They don’t talk about it because they haven’t figured out how it is related to work and success. They’ve been duped that love is a private thing, a home thing, something that happens after hours. They haven’t configured in this key motivational ingredient and spiritual necessity in human happiness.
12. “To whom much is given much will be demanded.’’ It’s an old phrase and not helpful when used to induce guilt. But it is a reminder to those of us who are considered rich to use what we have in knowledge, wealth, and wisdom to make the whole world a better place. We affect each other on this planet. We can’t afford to only look after those who are close to us, because the impact of those who aren’t can irrevocably destroy the future.
We’re in this together,
Glynn
2. I’m a spiritual broker, and frankly wealth stuffs up the arteries of the spiritual heart. A moderate amount tastes good. The trick is to learn to curb our appetite before it acquires a prominence in our lives that leads to spiritual death. Today such appetite is extolled as the driver to success. The monks of old called it greed.
3. It is no blessing being poor. Those who think otherwise have never been there. Poverty by means of the cocktail of anxiety, violence, and depression can also destroy the spiritual heart. Escaping poverty involves more than having money, though money helps. Critical to escaping is having a friend who believes in you.
4. Don’t believe the hype that says you earned your wealth. Give credit where it’s due. What your parents, schooling, race, gender and culture gave and give you is very significant in predisposing you to financial success. Luck is not insignificant either. Hard work does not excuse a lack of humility.
5. Don’t believe the hype that equates wealth with wisdom. At the nub of wisdom is the ability to be happy irrespective of success, wealth, and relationships. Too many people make their happiness conditional upon their assets.
6. Ask most dying eighty-year-olds what they wished had had more of and they will say ‘time with loved ones’. That’s the hope of rich and poor alike. Money and success usually won’t buy you time; it will buy you more money and success. Poverty doesn’t buy you time either, it just brings misery. To get time you need to trade in the money, success and misery.
7. Time is a spiritual concept. The Greeks helpfully distinguished between “chronos’’ chronological time and “kairos’’ the right moment. We need to create right moments. Or, as is more often the case, be spiritually tuned so that we are receptive when the right moment comes along. Those who aren’t tuned will miss or stall.
8. You can trade in your money to buy chronos time. You can get a little beach place, bury your blackberry, and take long barefooted walks. You can keep this going for a quite a while catching up on family, novels, and sleep. But eventually the novelty will wear off and you’ll be hankering to get back to work. For meaning hinges on work. Next thing you know you are in the suit, in the car, on the cell phone, in a rush. You missed because you weren’t spiritually tuned.
9. Such tuning is not easy. There is pain involved. The Greeks had a word for this too: ‘kenosis’ self-emptying. In the search for meaning we need to re-order our lives, removing things we have become addicted to and trying to live without them. It isn’t a case of having a ‘balanced life’. Some things are just plain bad.
10. A heart thrives on and generates love. It pumps the oxygen of kindness, tolerance, and compassion through the body and the body politik. As the song says we are made for love. Yet, as the songs also say, we continually screw up, making choices that destroy friendships and the fidelity love needs. Work, instead of being the expression of love, becomes the expression of our need for success. We have got those big three – love, work, and success - out of sync. Dangerously so.
11. Most businesses talk about work and success. They don’t usually talk about love. They don’t talk about it because they haven’t figured out how it is related to work and success. They’ve been duped that love is a private thing, a home thing, something that happens after hours. They haven’t configured in this key motivational ingredient and spiritual necessity in human happiness.
12. “To whom much is given much will be demanded.’’ It’s an old phrase and not helpful when used to induce guilt. But it is a reminder to those of us who are considered rich to use what we have in knowledge, wealth, and wisdom to make the whole world a better place. We affect each other on this planet. We can’t afford to only look after those who are close to us, because the impact of those who aren’t can irrevocably destroy the future.
We’re in this together,
Glynn
11/19/2007
Mum, is God up in the sky?
My friend Celia Caughey has written a delightful little book for children and their adults introducing them to the wisdom of the great spiritual disciplines - particularly Christian and Buddhist. The book is called "There's Lots of Love" and will be published in the next month or so. Details of it will be on the St Matthew's webite www.stmatthews.org.nz Here's a little poem of Celia's that I enjoyed this morning:
Mum, is God up in the sky?
Do you think that he can fly?
Does he have a long white beard?
Is he someone to be feared?
The mystery some call God
May be found inside your head
Don’t go searching far and wide
Search your own heart instead.
Think of electricity
That makes the dark turn bright
So energy flows through you
Tune in and see the light.
Mum, is God up in the sky?
Do you think that he can fly?
Does he have a long white beard?
Is he someone to be feared?
The mystery some call God
May be found inside your head
Don’t go searching far and wide
Search your own heart instead.
Think of electricity
That makes the dark turn bright
So energy flows through you
Tune in and see the light.
11/15/2007
Simply Good
"In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer" Albert Camus
+ There is a serenity to be found in some of the simplest of pleasures. I am sitting outside at 6.30 a.m., looking at the trees, with a cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. I hear the birds and some distant morning traffic. Closing my eyes I listen to my heart and it is peaceful.
+ Table-tennis in the garage is always a boisterous affair, deliberately so. Here young verse older can tease, laugh and compete. There are two lessons I want to teach. Firstly that fun is something you determine and then create. Secondly the real triumph of any game is the mutual enjoyment. The desire to win always needs to be kept in check, lest its destructive force is unleashed.
+ I try to laugh every day. I therefore need to put myself in the company of or communication with people who are as seriously twisted as I am. That takes discipline, but is manna to the soul. It helps too to know authors that are similarly twisted. Today it is Christopher Moore.
+ In the office it is the trickster who contributes more than she or he knows. The ability to release laughter into the common atmosphere is a divine gift, sowing the possibilities of hope and transformation. Churches in particular need lots of pranks – just to piss the pious off, and remind us what piety is.
+ With age comes the ability to enjoy rich, strong flavours. Insipid food and beverages lose their appeal. It’s great to see kids progress from cheddar, to Colby, to Tasty, to Stilton. I wish their theology would too. Usually they try the cheddar equivalent then give up on cheese.
+ With strong flavours too comes the realisation that a little is all that is needed. A dram of Glenfiddich can last a whole sunset. When you get stuffed on anything – food, drink, or religion – you miss the beauty on the horizon.
+ Enjoyment is not always assisted by money. Big toys can lead to big stress, and big maintenance. Bigness is also part of the illusion that the grand is always preferable to the simple. A car will give you the pleasure of arriving quickly. A bicycle will give you the pleasure of feeling the wind. Walking will give you the pleasure of noticing the flowers. All are pleasurable, but some cost more. Generally the more it costs the worse off your heart is.
+ Beauty is the artists’ gift to the city. These gifts stimulate our eyes and imagination, and goddishly invite our souls to be transported beyond the ordinary. Sculpture, in particular, offers us the vulnerability and intrigue of three dimensions, inviting touch and reflection. Sculpture is the foil to utilitarian design, suburban routine and soulless consumerism.
+ Working downtown it is important to misplace your diary and cell phone, walk out and get lost at least once a week. In the world of noise and demand we need a silence break, or we will break. That’s why it’s important for churches, art galleries, and large book stores to be open in the city – for the quiet. It is a prayer to walk from noise to silence. Our souls simply need it.
+ There is a serenity to be found in some of the simplest of pleasures. I am sitting outside at 6.30 a.m., looking at the trees, with a cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. I hear the birds and some distant morning traffic. Closing my eyes I listen to my heart and it is peaceful.
+ Table-tennis in the garage is always a boisterous affair, deliberately so. Here young verse older can tease, laugh and compete. There are two lessons I want to teach. Firstly that fun is something you determine and then create. Secondly the real triumph of any game is the mutual enjoyment. The desire to win always needs to be kept in check, lest its destructive force is unleashed.
+ I try to laugh every day. I therefore need to put myself in the company of or communication with people who are as seriously twisted as I am. That takes discipline, but is manna to the soul. It helps too to know authors that are similarly twisted. Today it is Christopher Moore.
+ In the office it is the trickster who contributes more than she or he knows. The ability to release laughter into the common atmosphere is a divine gift, sowing the possibilities of hope and transformation. Churches in particular need lots of pranks – just to piss the pious off, and remind us what piety is.
+ With age comes the ability to enjoy rich, strong flavours. Insipid food and beverages lose their appeal. It’s great to see kids progress from cheddar, to Colby, to Tasty, to Stilton. I wish their theology would too. Usually they try the cheddar equivalent then give up on cheese.
+ With strong flavours too comes the realisation that a little is all that is needed. A dram of Glenfiddich can last a whole sunset. When you get stuffed on anything – food, drink, or religion – you miss the beauty on the horizon.
+ Enjoyment is not always assisted by money. Big toys can lead to big stress, and big maintenance. Bigness is also part of the illusion that the grand is always preferable to the simple. A car will give you the pleasure of arriving quickly. A bicycle will give you the pleasure of feeling the wind. Walking will give you the pleasure of noticing the flowers. All are pleasurable, but some cost more. Generally the more it costs the worse off your heart is.
+ Beauty is the artists’ gift to the city. These gifts stimulate our eyes and imagination, and goddishly invite our souls to be transported beyond the ordinary. Sculpture, in particular, offers us the vulnerability and intrigue of three dimensions, inviting touch and reflection. Sculpture is the foil to utilitarian design, suburban routine and soulless consumerism.
+ Working downtown it is important to misplace your diary and cell phone, walk out and get lost at least once a week. In the world of noise and demand we need a silence break, or we will break. That’s why it’s important for churches, art galleries, and large book stores to be open in the city – for the quiet. It is a prayer to walk from noise to silence. Our souls simply need it.
When We Disagree With Jesus
I was reading Luke 20:27-38 this morning. Luke and/or his Jesus make some claims in this text about heaven – namely that there is no marriage, plenty of angels, and is only for “the worthy.” The interesting thing of course is that many Christians, like me, don’t believe what Jesus/Luke believed.
I’m agnostic about life after death. I hope there is, but my faith isn’t shattered if there isn’t. I am though very sceptical about a heaven for “the worthy”. Determining who is “worthy” has always been a political game. At its best the Church has said that’s God’s call and God’s call alone. However, the Church being the institution it is can’t resist the temptation of judging others. It has damned anyone and everyone who doesn’t fit with the beliefs, morality, or authority structure of the ruling ecclesiastical elite. I personally think that if an afterlife exists everyone is going to be there. For some that will be heaven, for others it will be hell. As for angels… I really like angels, I just believe in literal metaphysical messengers.
If we don’t believe what Jesus and/or his editors believed does that make us non-Christians or heretics? When it comes to Jesus are some of his beliefs optional for us? Did he get it wrong about some things?
Let me sketch some things about the historical Jesus. Firstly, he was Jewish. He was a Jewish rabbi no less, of the Pharisaic tradition - albeit a liberal critic within Pharisaism. The idea of his followers departing from the Jewish faith would have been anathema to him. Jesus’ editors, and the writings of Paul, try to disguise this inconvenient truth.
In a similar vein I think it would be a mistake to imagine that Jesus saw no difference between Jews and Gentiles. The story of the Syro-Phoenician woman where Jesus says to her, ‘Why should I take the Jewish children’s food and throw it to you Gentile dogs?’ indicates some of the common racial prejudice that existed. Whilst Jesus was inclusive for his time and culture, to assume he was without prejudice is a statement of conjecture.
Thirdly there is his maleness. Although he was critical of the patriarchal family and the denigration of those who transgressed the purity laws, to say he was a believer in the equality of men and women is a fanciful reading into the text. Again, like with his relationship to Gentiles, in his time and place he crossed cultural and gender boundaries, and thus modelled for us an imperative to do likewise. But he was not your non-sexist, mutuality-committed, pro-equality male that we fathers all want our daughters to marry.
Then there is his theology. Jesus had a personal, male god whom he called daddy. Further this anthropomorphic deity lived above the clouds, in the top tier of the universe, called heaven. The second tier of the universe was the earth, and the third hell. We might like to imagine that he thought of these metaphorically, but I doubt it. Jesus also believed that he was going to ‘come again’ during the lifetime of the disciples. Of course as a good Jew he wouldn’t have had any truck with the Trinity, or the great schemes of sanctification that involved his literal blood making God accept and love people.
Some of Jesus’ theology we might resonate with and some we might be repelled by. A personal daddy god doesn’t do much for me. A three-tier universe doesn’t literally exist. Jesus didn’t come again during his disciples’ lifetime. However the complicated formulas of the Trinity and sanctification devised in the first four centuries of the Church don’t do a lot for me either.
Can I then still call myself a Christian?
I find the description of Jesus by the writer of Hebrews [12:2] as the ‘author’ or ‘pioneer’ of our faith helpful. The Jesus of history was a trailblazer, an exemplar, and a model for us. However as with all authors and pioneers of radical social change thought we need to be selective about what we wish to emulate. He wasn’t perfect. The love he preached and lived in his context might have been, but in our context revision is needed.
This is where the writer of the 4th Gospel is helpful in telling us that the Spirit of Jesus will lead us into all truth. ‘Spirit of’ as distinct from ‘the man’. Truth was not fixed in 1st century Palestine. It was not fixed in a male Jewish rabbi. It is something that continues to unfold as we engage with the Spirit of God in our context in the light of what he taught.
I’m agnostic about life after death. I hope there is, but my faith isn’t shattered if there isn’t. I am though very sceptical about a heaven for “the worthy”. Determining who is “worthy” has always been a political game. At its best the Church has said that’s God’s call and God’s call alone. However, the Church being the institution it is can’t resist the temptation of judging others. It has damned anyone and everyone who doesn’t fit with the beliefs, morality, or authority structure of the ruling ecclesiastical elite. I personally think that if an afterlife exists everyone is going to be there. For some that will be heaven, for others it will be hell. As for angels… I really like angels, I just believe in literal metaphysical messengers.
If we don’t believe what Jesus and/or his editors believed does that make us non-Christians or heretics? When it comes to Jesus are some of his beliefs optional for us? Did he get it wrong about some things?
Let me sketch some things about the historical Jesus. Firstly, he was Jewish. He was a Jewish rabbi no less, of the Pharisaic tradition - albeit a liberal critic within Pharisaism. The idea of his followers departing from the Jewish faith would have been anathema to him. Jesus’ editors, and the writings of Paul, try to disguise this inconvenient truth.
In a similar vein I think it would be a mistake to imagine that Jesus saw no difference between Jews and Gentiles. The story of the Syro-Phoenician woman where Jesus says to her, ‘Why should I take the Jewish children’s food and throw it to you Gentile dogs?’ indicates some of the common racial prejudice that existed. Whilst Jesus was inclusive for his time and culture, to assume he was without prejudice is a statement of conjecture.
Thirdly there is his maleness. Although he was critical of the patriarchal family and the denigration of those who transgressed the purity laws, to say he was a believer in the equality of men and women is a fanciful reading into the text. Again, like with his relationship to Gentiles, in his time and place he crossed cultural and gender boundaries, and thus modelled for us an imperative to do likewise. But he was not your non-sexist, mutuality-committed, pro-equality male that we fathers all want our daughters to marry.
Then there is his theology. Jesus had a personal, male god whom he called daddy. Further this anthropomorphic deity lived above the clouds, in the top tier of the universe, called heaven. The second tier of the universe was the earth, and the third hell. We might like to imagine that he thought of these metaphorically, but I doubt it. Jesus also believed that he was going to ‘come again’ during the lifetime of the disciples. Of course as a good Jew he wouldn’t have had any truck with the Trinity, or the great schemes of sanctification that involved his literal blood making God accept and love people.
Some of Jesus’ theology we might resonate with and some we might be repelled by. A personal daddy god doesn’t do much for me. A three-tier universe doesn’t literally exist. Jesus didn’t come again during his disciples’ lifetime. However the complicated formulas of the Trinity and sanctification devised in the first four centuries of the Church don’t do a lot for me either.
Can I then still call myself a Christian?
I find the description of Jesus by the writer of Hebrews [12:2] as the ‘author’ or ‘pioneer’ of our faith helpful. The Jesus of history was a trailblazer, an exemplar, and a model for us. However as with all authors and pioneers of radical social change thought we need to be selective about what we wish to emulate. He wasn’t perfect. The love he preached and lived in his context might have been, but in our context revision is needed.
This is where the writer of the 4th Gospel is helpful in telling us that the Spirit of Jesus will lead us into all truth. ‘Spirit of’ as distinct from ‘the man’. Truth was not fixed in 1st century Palestine. It was not fixed in a male Jewish rabbi. It is something that continues to unfold as we engage with the Spirit of God in our context in the light of what he taught.
11/13/2007
Choose Which Road To Travel
The Bible has long been used as a barrier to prevent gay and lesbian people feeling beloved of God and welcome in the Church. Using verses in particular from the books of Leviticus and Romans Church authorities have condemned homosexuality.
However scholars in the 1970s and 1980s looked again at the texts. They found that none of the passages addressed the permissibility of consensual committed love in a same-sex relationship. Rather most of the passages were concerned about the violation of hospitality, rape, and pederasty. The texts were written within a patriarchal culture obsessed with purity. It tried to regulate for example what went into and out of the body, the latter including menstrual fluid and semen. Wasting semen was a crime whereas sleeping with multiple wives, concubines, and prostitutes was not.
These scholars also noted that Jesus made no reported comment on homosexuality. He was though critical of the patriarchal family, and what that institution did to those it rejected. He also talked about the importance of love and how we treat one another.
Conservative scholars have tried to counter these arguments. In short they argue that because the Bible is silent on committed same-sex relationships does not mean it permits them. The Bible endorses a heterosexual perspective, albeit within an ancient patriarchal context that most today would not want to wholly replicate. They think the Church needs to be very careful in how far it deviates from the literal words of various biblical texts.
In the end, I believe, it comes down to us making a choice. We can choose to follow a God who wants us to conform to one particular way of being human, as defined by heterosexual norms. This God stands opposed to the direction of Western democracies as they seek to acknowledge the human rights of all their citizens. There are a number of biblical passages and preachers that will endorse this choice. Or we can choose to follow a God who in the name of love breaks through the barriers of prejudice and leads us on the road to justice. There are a number of biblical passages and preachers that will endorse this choice too.
Making a choice regarding biblical texts and moral direction is nothing new. The 16th century reformer, John Calvin, a man not known for his liberal tendencies, was faced with a problem. The Bible’s unequivocal denunciation of usury, i.e. earning interest on money, was preventing the economic development of Europe. Whereas originally these texts were framed to stop the poor falling into debt-slavery, they were in the 16th century preventing people from borrowing to finance enterprise. Calvin reasoned that although these verses made sense when they were written, times and understandings had changed, and the texts needed to be ignored. Further he regarded the moral principle of equity as taking precedence over these biblical texts.[i] In other words Calvin, the great pioneer of Protestantism, and champion for many modern-day conservatives, blatantly disregarded the clear teaching of Holy Scripture and gave preference to the principle of equity.
We need to have the courage of Calvin today to set aside biblical prohibitions that stand in the way of people flourishing. This was the same courage that Jesus showed in setting aside biblical texts regarding the Sabbath, women, lepers, tax-collectors, dining, and adultery.
We need to choose which road to travel. There is a narrow conservative road that requires conformity to one understanding of Scripture and faith. You won’t have to think too much – it will do it for you. This road denies that any other road is Christian.
Then there is a broad highway littered with churches and bishops that is designed to keep everyone happy. In the name of unity dissension must be avoided. It is risk-averse. It tries to be tolerant. Those who don’t fit with the majority however are discounted.
Then there is the difficult road to justice that St Matthew’s is travelling. On this road unity does not precede justice, but follows it. On this road the Bible does not precede truth, but serves it. On this road God’s will is not frozen in the 1st century but is unfolding among us. This is the road that I and many of my predecessors have chosen. And we still have a long way to go.
[i] I have drawn upon an article by Alan Billings http://www.churchtimes.co.uk/content.asp?id=39331
However scholars in the 1970s and 1980s looked again at the texts. They found that none of the passages addressed the permissibility of consensual committed love in a same-sex relationship. Rather most of the passages were concerned about the violation of hospitality, rape, and pederasty. The texts were written within a patriarchal culture obsessed with purity. It tried to regulate for example what went into and out of the body, the latter including menstrual fluid and semen. Wasting semen was a crime whereas sleeping with multiple wives, concubines, and prostitutes was not.
These scholars also noted that Jesus made no reported comment on homosexuality. He was though critical of the patriarchal family, and what that institution did to those it rejected. He also talked about the importance of love and how we treat one another.
Conservative scholars have tried to counter these arguments. In short they argue that because the Bible is silent on committed same-sex relationships does not mean it permits them. The Bible endorses a heterosexual perspective, albeit within an ancient patriarchal context that most today would not want to wholly replicate. They think the Church needs to be very careful in how far it deviates from the literal words of various biblical texts.
In the end, I believe, it comes down to us making a choice. We can choose to follow a God who wants us to conform to one particular way of being human, as defined by heterosexual norms. This God stands opposed to the direction of Western democracies as they seek to acknowledge the human rights of all their citizens. There are a number of biblical passages and preachers that will endorse this choice. Or we can choose to follow a God who in the name of love breaks through the barriers of prejudice and leads us on the road to justice. There are a number of biblical passages and preachers that will endorse this choice too.
Making a choice regarding biblical texts and moral direction is nothing new. The 16th century reformer, John Calvin, a man not known for his liberal tendencies, was faced with a problem. The Bible’s unequivocal denunciation of usury, i.e. earning interest on money, was preventing the economic development of Europe. Whereas originally these texts were framed to stop the poor falling into debt-slavery, they were in the 16th century preventing people from borrowing to finance enterprise. Calvin reasoned that although these verses made sense when they were written, times and understandings had changed, and the texts needed to be ignored. Further he regarded the moral principle of equity as taking precedence over these biblical texts.[i] In other words Calvin, the great pioneer of Protestantism, and champion for many modern-day conservatives, blatantly disregarded the clear teaching of Holy Scripture and gave preference to the principle of equity.
We need to have the courage of Calvin today to set aside biblical prohibitions that stand in the way of people flourishing. This was the same courage that Jesus showed in setting aside biblical texts regarding the Sabbath, women, lepers, tax-collectors, dining, and adultery.
We need to choose which road to travel. There is a narrow conservative road that requires conformity to one understanding of Scripture and faith. You won’t have to think too much – it will do it for you. This road denies that any other road is Christian.
Then there is a broad highway littered with churches and bishops that is designed to keep everyone happy. In the name of unity dissension must be avoided. It is risk-averse. It tries to be tolerant. Those who don’t fit with the majority however are discounted.
Then there is the difficult road to justice that St Matthew’s is travelling. On this road unity does not precede justice, but follows it. On this road the Bible does not precede truth, but serves it. On this road God’s will is not frozen in the 1st century but is unfolding among us. This is the road that I and many of my predecessors have chosen. And we still have a long way to go.
[i] I have drawn upon an article by Alan Billings http://www.churchtimes.co.uk/content.asp?id=39331
11/06/2007
Lunch with Bishop Gene
Last Saturday I dined with Bishop Gene Robinson of New Hampshire and his partner Mark. They are in New Zealand on holiday. It’s not often one is privileged to have lunch with a famous person.
Gene has a big infectious smile and is very gracious when talking about those in the Anglican Communion who make life difficult for him. He is very committed to the Church – which I suppose is obvious when you remember that he was ordained wearing a bullet-proof vest!
He told us about the documentary “For the Bible Tells Me So” in which he features. See http://www.forthebibletellsmeso.org I cried when I watched the trailer. The movie tells the Bible story in a way that affirms God’s love and embrace of gay people and their relationships.
I sat next to Gene’s partner Mark. The American House of Bishops has a strong spouse’s group who have warmly welcomed Mark into their midst.
I gave Gene a gift on behalf of St Matthew’s. It’s a little greenstone Manaia. The Manaia is traditionally depicted with the head of a bird, the body of a man, and the tail of a fish – representing sky, earth and sea and the balance between them. It is said to protect the wearer from evil. It’s also controversial. It seemed the right thing to give to Gene.
Gene has a big infectious smile and is very gracious when talking about those in the Anglican Communion who make life difficult for him. He is very committed to the Church – which I suppose is obvious when you remember that he was ordained wearing a bullet-proof vest!
He told us about the documentary “For the Bible Tells Me So” in which he features. See http://www.forthebibletellsmeso.org I cried when I watched the trailer. The movie tells the Bible story in a way that affirms God’s love and embrace of gay people and their relationships.
I sat next to Gene’s partner Mark. The American House of Bishops has a strong spouse’s group who have warmly welcomed Mark into their midst.
I gave Gene a gift on behalf of St Matthew’s. It’s a little greenstone Manaia. The Manaia is traditionally depicted with the head of a bird, the body of a man, and the tail of a fish – representing sky, earth and sea and the balance between them. It is said to protect the wearer from evil. It’s also controversial. It seemed the right thing to give to Gene.
10/31/2007
Mustard Seed Church
Instead of the club understanding of Church Jesus offered the parable of the mustard seed: “The Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed that a person took and sowed in their garden. And it grew and grew and became a great tree with large branches so that the birds made nests in it.”
The power of this parable relies upon us knowing some basic botany. The mustard plant is an annual that grew wild in Palestine. Pliny, that great Roman observer, writes: “It grows entirely wild … when it has once been sown it is scarcely possible to get the place free of it.”[i] It was, in other words, a weed. It was the oxalis of the ancient world.
In the parable the person plants the mustard weed in their garden. Apart from being a stupid thing to do [think oxalis], it violated the law of diverse kinds in Leviticus 19:19. This law was designed to maintain order and separation, keeping plants in their proper place and not mixing them. Normally mustard was sown in small patches on the edge of a field. It was prohibited to plant it in a garden because it would result in mingling. By planting it in the garden, the planter makes the garden “unclean”. The mustard seed grew, and grew, and grew … as weeds do.
Jesus was inviting his hearers to imagine God’s reign to be very different from their religious club. The Jewish purity regulations were a result of needing club boundaries. All clubs need boundaries in order to create safe cultures, delineating insiders from outsiders. Jesus however was saying that God violates boundaries, violates biblical principles, disregards common botanical sense, and makes a mess of good order.
Jesus could have likened God’s reign to a cedar of Lebanon that grew tall and strong with many branches, capable of holding nests for many birds.[ii] In the great tree of the religious club all birds, read people, could find a home.
Mustard seeds don’t grow into great trees with branches. They grow into shrubs, with a maximum height of 1.2 metres. It takes a lot of digital re-imaging, or G.E., to make mustard into a large tree. Jesus was either botanically challenged or was deliberately mixing it up. The lowly, virulent, and problematic mustard can hardly be mistaken for the lofty, virtuous, and powerful cedar. Indeed his audience was probably smiling at the thought. What was Jesus trying to do in stirring his metaphors?
Jesus often did the reversal thing, trying to turn people’s thinking upside down. Consider, for example, the man beaten on the road to Jericho. The hero of the story is the unclean and despised Samaritan. The reign of God is meant to be mighty, exalted and significant, like a cedar. The mustard seed though is proverbially small, despised, and insignificant. Yet in the topsy-turvy, upside-down mind of Jesus, God is seen clearest of all in the small, despised, and insignificant.
There is disorder contained in the mustard metaphor. The reign of God is not like the Auckland Botanical Gardens were everything is carefully laid out, well tended and watered, named and admired. The reign of God is not orderly, where people all have allocated places and behave themselves. Rather the reign of God is like oxalis. It crops up all over the place, despite our best efforts to keep it out. Just when you had that patch of garden looking great, up she pops with her little yellow flowers.
It didn’t take long for the early Church to try to domesticate the breadth and wildness of God’s reign and call itself the Kingdom of God. Constantine made an empire out of it. All theistic religions have a tendency to want to own God and declare their institutions are God’s creation. Jesus in his day was trying to help his Pharisaic colleagues to broaden their thinking, see the divine in the weeds as well as the cedars, in the impure as well as the pure, and above all not to imagine that they could domesticate God.
[i] Pliny, Natural History, 29.54.170 [LCL, 529].
[ii] Ezekiel 17, 34, and Psalm 104.
The power of this parable relies upon us knowing some basic botany. The mustard plant is an annual that grew wild in Palestine. Pliny, that great Roman observer, writes: “It grows entirely wild … when it has once been sown it is scarcely possible to get the place free of it.”[i] It was, in other words, a weed. It was the oxalis of the ancient world.
In the parable the person plants the mustard weed in their garden. Apart from being a stupid thing to do [think oxalis], it violated the law of diverse kinds in Leviticus 19:19. This law was designed to maintain order and separation, keeping plants in their proper place and not mixing them. Normally mustard was sown in small patches on the edge of a field. It was prohibited to plant it in a garden because it would result in mingling. By planting it in the garden, the planter makes the garden “unclean”. The mustard seed grew, and grew, and grew … as weeds do.
Jesus was inviting his hearers to imagine God’s reign to be very different from their religious club. The Jewish purity regulations were a result of needing club boundaries. All clubs need boundaries in order to create safe cultures, delineating insiders from outsiders. Jesus however was saying that God violates boundaries, violates biblical principles, disregards common botanical sense, and makes a mess of good order.
Jesus could have likened God’s reign to a cedar of Lebanon that grew tall and strong with many branches, capable of holding nests for many birds.[ii] In the great tree of the religious club all birds, read people, could find a home.
Mustard seeds don’t grow into great trees with branches. They grow into shrubs, with a maximum height of 1.2 metres. It takes a lot of digital re-imaging, or G.E., to make mustard into a large tree. Jesus was either botanically challenged or was deliberately mixing it up. The lowly, virulent, and problematic mustard can hardly be mistaken for the lofty, virtuous, and powerful cedar. Indeed his audience was probably smiling at the thought. What was Jesus trying to do in stirring his metaphors?
Jesus often did the reversal thing, trying to turn people’s thinking upside down. Consider, for example, the man beaten on the road to Jericho. The hero of the story is the unclean and despised Samaritan. The reign of God is meant to be mighty, exalted and significant, like a cedar. The mustard seed though is proverbially small, despised, and insignificant. Yet in the topsy-turvy, upside-down mind of Jesus, God is seen clearest of all in the small, despised, and insignificant.
There is disorder contained in the mustard metaphor. The reign of God is not like the Auckland Botanical Gardens were everything is carefully laid out, well tended and watered, named and admired. The reign of God is not orderly, where people all have allocated places and behave themselves. Rather the reign of God is like oxalis. It crops up all over the place, despite our best efforts to keep it out. Just when you had that patch of garden looking great, up she pops with her little yellow flowers.
It didn’t take long for the early Church to try to domesticate the breadth and wildness of God’s reign and call itself the Kingdom of God. Constantine made an empire out of it. All theistic religions have a tendency to want to own God and declare their institutions are God’s creation. Jesus in his day was trying to help his Pharisaic colleagues to broaden their thinking, see the divine in the weeds as well as the cedars, in the impure as well as the pure, and above all not to imagine that they could domesticate God.
[i] Pliny, Natural History, 29.54.170 [LCL, 529].
[ii] Ezekiel 17, 34, and Psalm 104.
10/19/2007
The Morning Club
Sometimes a children’s story contains a great truth:
“Grasshopper was walking along the road. He saw a sign on the side of a tree. The sign said MORNING IS BEST. Soon Grasshopper saw another sign. It said THREE CHEERS FOR MORNING. Grasshopper saw a group of beetles. They were singing and dancing. They were carrying more signs.
“Good morning,” said Grasshopper.
“Yes,” said one of the beetles. “It is a good morning. Every morning is a good morning!” The beetle carried a sign. It said MAKE MINE MORNING.
“This is a meeting of the ‘We Love Morning Club’,” said the beetle. “Every day we get together to celebrate another bright, fresh morning. Grasshopper do you love morning?”
“Oh yes,” said Grasshopper.
“Hooray!” shouted all the beetles. “Grasshopper loves morning!”
“I knew it,” said the beetle. “I could tell by your kind face. You are a morning lover.” The beetles made Grasshopper a wreath of flowers. They gave him a sign that said MORNING IS TOPS.
“Now,” they said, “Grasshopper is in our club.”
“When does the clover sparkle with dew?” asked a beetle.
“In the morning!” cried all the other beetles.
“When is the sunshine yellow and new?” asked the beetle.
“In the morning!” cried all the other beetles. They turned somersaults and stood on their heads. They danced and sang.
“M-O-R-N-I-N-G spells morning!”
“I love afternoon too,” said Grasshopper.
The beetles stopped singing and dancing. “What did you say?” they asked.
“I said that I loved afternoon,” said Grasshopper.
All the beetles were quiet.
“And night is very nice,” said Grasshopper.
“Stupid,” said a beetle. He grabbed the wreath of flowers.
“Idiot,” said another beetle. He snatched the sign from Grasshopper.
“Anyone who loves afternoon and night can never ever be in our club!” said a third beetle.
“UP WITH MORNING!” shouted all the beetles. They waved their signs and marched away.
Grasshopper was alone. He saw the yellow sunshine. He saw the dew sparkling on the clover. And he went on down the road.”[i]
Every community places boundaries around itself. It creates a sense of identity and belonging. It delineates between insiders and outsiders. Even the most inclusive community in the world has boundaries. The art of inclusion though is to recognize that your community does not have a monopoly on truth, love, God, beauty, and knowledge, and neither does any other community; and to keep the boundaries you have as porous as possible so that the challenge and love of God may freely flow through.
The beetle club had created meaning and borders around their enjoyment of the morning. Their allegiance to their club identity blinded them to the truth that was beyond their borders.
[i] A. Lobel, Grasshopper On The Road, London : Windmill, 1979, p.8ff.
“Grasshopper was walking along the road. He saw a sign on the side of a tree. The sign said MORNING IS BEST. Soon Grasshopper saw another sign. It said THREE CHEERS FOR MORNING. Grasshopper saw a group of beetles. They were singing and dancing. They were carrying more signs.
“Good morning,” said Grasshopper.
“Yes,” said one of the beetles. “It is a good morning. Every morning is a good morning!” The beetle carried a sign. It said MAKE MINE MORNING.
“This is a meeting of the ‘We Love Morning Club’,” said the beetle. “Every day we get together to celebrate another bright, fresh morning. Grasshopper do you love morning?”
“Oh yes,” said Grasshopper.
“Hooray!” shouted all the beetles. “Grasshopper loves morning!”
“I knew it,” said the beetle. “I could tell by your kind face. You are a morning lover.” The beetles made Grasshopper a wreath of flowers. They gave him a sign that said MORNING IS TOPS.
“Now,” they said, “Grasshopper is in our club.”
“When does the clover sparkle with dew?” asked a beetle.
“In the morning!” cried all the other beetles.
“When is the sunshine yellow and new?” asked the beetle.
“In the morning!” cried all the other beetles. They turned somersaults and stood on their heads. They danced and sang.
“M-O-R-N-I-N-G spells morning!”
“I love afternoon too,” said Grasshopper.
The beetles stopped singing and dancing. “What did you say?” they asked.
“I said that I loved afternoon,” said Grasshopper.
All the beetles were quiet.
“And night is very nice,” said Grasshopper.
“Stupid,” said a beetle. He grabbed the wreath of flowers.
“Idiot,” said another beetle. He snatched the sign from Grasshopper.
“Anyone who loves afternoon and night can never ever be in our club!” said a third beetle.
“UP WITH MORNING!” shouted all the beetles. They waved their signs and marched away.
Grasshopper was alone. He saw the yellow sunshine. He saw the dew sparkling on the clover. And he went on down the road.”[i]
Every community places boundaries around itself. It creates a sense of identity and belonging. It delineates between insiders and outsiders. Even the most inclusive community in the world has boundaries. The art of inclusion though is to recognize that your community does not have a monopoly on truth, love, God, beauty, and knowledge, and neither does any other community; and to keep the boundaries you have as porous as possible so that the challenge and love of God may freely flow through.
The beetle club had created meaning and borders around their enjoyment of the morning. Their allegiance to their club identity blinded them to the truth that was beyond their borders.
[i] A. Lobel, Grasshopper On The Road, London : Windmill, 1979, p.8ff.
Question from Isabelle: Where are devils?
Dear Father Glynn,
Where are devils?
Love Isabelle.
Dear Isabelle,
I think devils are found in the imagination. Sometimes they are in people’s dreams. Often they pop up in story books – story books are of course imagination put into words and written on paper.
I don’t believe devils actually exist. No one has ever seen a devil. We know from history that the idea of devils has developed in stories. In some periods of history people thought they were real, and lots were afraid of them.
I don’t even believe they are in hell. I think the whole idea of an actual place called hell is highly suspect. It was thought up in the days when people believed in God living in heaven above us and the devil living in hell beneath us. Nowadays we know that we live on a round planet. Beneath us is earth and rock. Above us is sky, space, stars and other galaxies.
God is the name we give to the powerful love often seen between people who seek the best for each other. It's a love that can even heal us. People who try to destroy that love live a ‘hellish’ life. Hell is a state of mind and existence that rejects love and delights in hatred.
Kind regards,
Glynn
Where are devils?
Love Isabelle.
Dear Isabelle,
I think devils are found in the imagination. Sometimes they are in people’s dreams. Often they pop up in story books – story books are of course imagination put into words and written on paper.
I don’t believe devils actually exist. No one has ever seen a devil. We know from history that the idea of devils has developed in stories. In some periods of history people thought they were real, and lots were afraid of them.
I don’t even believe they are in hell. I think the whole idea of an actual place called hell is highly suspect. It was thought up in the days when people believed in God living in heaven above us and the devil living in hell beneath us. Nowadays we know that we live on a round planet. Beneath us is earth and rock. Above us is sky, space, stars and other galaxies.
God is the name we give to the powerful love often seen between people who seek the best for each other. It's a love that can even heal us. People who try to destroy that love live a ‘hellish’ life. Hell is a state of mind and existence that rejects love and delights in hatred.
Kind regards,
Glynn
10/09/2007
It’s a tough time to be a conservative.
It’s a tough time to be a conservative. Despite all that moralistic fervour, those righteous admonitions, all the pointing of the fingers at secular humanism and bankrupt liberalism, the numbers don’t look good. New Zealand is not about to become a Bible-believing nation any time soon. The crowds who swim to the latest Pentecostal preacher and get hooked also seem to tire after awhile and break free. Attendance in mainline denominations is at best static, with a few exceptions here and there. Certainly there is no second coming for biblical morality and church going conviction.
In Anglicanism the great conservative thrust over the last decade has been to claim they are the majority, they are the true stewards of biblical correctness, and any unrepentant loving gay or lesbian who has the audacity to show up in Church needs to be exorcised. Conservatives chose homosexual relationships as their line in the sand. ‘Bashing gays,’ they reasoned, ‘is sure to win us the day.’
And for a while it did look like they were winning. The Archbishop of Canterbury got confused between management and leadership, and sank into the mire of the former. The Primates took to themselves power to punish dissent, though it was never theirs to take. The Anglican Consultative Council, while showing more backbone than most, seemed to succumb to Episcopal bullying.
Even in little old NZ the conservative stench breezed in. Vicars threatened to resign because of what was happening overseas. Some bishops developed supple spines keeping those vicars in ‘the family’. Lots of consultation was called for. Not mind you with disaffected gay and lesbian Christians who were once again being clouted by bigotry, but with those poor hurt conservatives who always want religion to make them feel good. Bishops paused before ordaining anyone who was gay.
The reassuring thing however about conservatism is that given time, and enough rope, it will hang itself. Slowly and surely the Anglican world is waking up to the ugly reality of the bigotry it has been trying to accommodate.
Consider the tone of recent editions of Church Times that barometer of English purple opinion. No longer are the Americans being vilified as imperialistic innovators who take no notice of anyone else. Now, after Archbishop Rowan has finally visited them, they are being spoken of as conciliatory and reasonable.
The ludicrous situation of three African Provinces competing with each in a race to ordain the few renegade American bishops is being exposed for the sham it is. How a bishop in Pittsburgh is meant to be accountable to a Primate in Nigeria is anybody’s guess – though ‘accountable’ is not what is in mind. Power and money is.
The murderous Bishop of Harare has used the climate of anti-homosexuality to further his own ends. Despots count on the absence of backbone, and their ability to spread fear and mistrust. Hopefully the leadership and lawyers of his Province will deal to him as best they can.
Wycliffe Hall, the evangelical training college in Oxford, is also reeling from its own Machiavelli. Their principal has successfully caused the resignation of over half his staff, public condemnation from former principals, dismay from moderate evangelicals in general, and the substantial inflation of his salary package. Amongst his incredible actions is the appointment of a Vice-Principal who does not believe women should teach men! The Council to whom he is accountable are at best displaying a predictable lack of intestinal fortitude.
Maybe however the biggest atmospheric change afflicting conservatism is the slow awakening of that patient tolerant beast called Middle Anglicanism. For at the end of the day the conservatives have chosen to vilify someone who is everyone’s neighbour. And they are vilifying him or her because that neighbour has chosen to commit him or herself to another in love. ‘Neighbours’ and ‘love’ are two words at the heart of Christian faith. There is something deeply counter-cultural to Christianity in advocating the theological and political crucifixion of a neighbour who has dared to love another.
As I say, it is a tough time to be a conservative.
In Anglicanism the great conservative thrust over the last decade has been to claim they are the majority, they are the true stewards of biblical correctness, and any unrepentant loving gay or lesbian who has the audacity to show up in Church needs to be exorcised. Conservatives chose homosexual relationships as their line in the sand. ‘Bashing gays,’ they reasoned, ‘is sure to win us the day.’
And for a while it did look like they were winning. The Archbishop of Canterbury got confused between management and leadership, and sank into the mire of the former. The Primates took to themselves power to punish dissent, though it was never theirs to take. The Anglican Consultative Council, while showing more backbone than most, seemed to succumb to Episcopal bullying.
Even in little old NZ the conservative stench breezed in. Vicars threatened to resign because of what was happening overseas. Some bishops developed supple spines keeping those vicars in ‘the family’. Lots of consultation was called for. Not mind you with disaffected gay and lesbian Christians who were once again being clouted by bigotry, but with those poor hurt conservatives who always want religion to make them feel good. Bishops paused before ordaining anyone who was gay.
The reassuring thing however about conservatism is that given time, and enough rope, it will hang itself. Slowly and surely the Anglican world is waking up to the ugly reality of the bigotry it has been trying to accommodate.
Consider the tone of recent editions of Church Times that barometer of English purple opinion. No longer are the Americans being vilified as imperialistic innovators who take no notice of anyone else. Now, after Archbishop Rowan has finally visited them, they are being spoken of as conciliatory and reasonable.
The ludicrous situation of three African Provinces competing with each in a race to ordain the few renegade American bishops is being exposed for the sham it is. How a bishop in Pittsburgh is meant to be accountable to a Primate in Nigeria is anybody’s guess – though ‘accountable’ is not what is in mind. Power and money is.
The murderous Bishop of Harare has used the climate of anti-homosexuality to further his own ends. Despots count on the absence of backbone, and their ability to spread fear and mistrust. Hopefully the leadership and lawyers of his Province will deal to him as best they can.
Wycliffe Hall, the evangelical training college in Oxford, is also reeling from its own Machiavelli. Their principal has successfully caused the resignation of over half his staff, public condemnation from former principals, dismay from moderate evangelicals in general, and the substantial inflation of his salary package. Amongst his incredible actions is the appointment of a Vice-Principal who does not believe women should teach men! The Council to whom he is accountable are at best displaying a predictable lack of intestinal fortitude.
Maybe however the biggest atmospheric change afflicting conservatism is the slow awakening of that patient tolerant beast called Middle Anglicanism. For at the end of the day the conservatives have chosen to vilify someone who is everyone’s neighbour. And they are vilifying him or her because that neighbour has chosen to commit him or herself to another in love. ‘Neighbours’ and ‘love’ are two words at the heart of Christian faith. There is something deeply counter-cultural to Christianity in advocating the theological and political crucifixion of a neighbour who has dared to love another.
As I say, it is a tough time to be a conservative.
9/20/2007
An Offensive God
Drag artiste Queenie Aotearoa dances a tribute
at the death of fellow artiste Shane in St Matthew's this week.
at the death of fellow artiste Shane in St Matthew's this week.
Today we have become timid in our imaging of God. We think it is radical and risqué to even call God ‘Her’. Our images of God as loving and inclusive do not do justice to the God Jesus painted who is offensive to the keepers of the status quo, religious or secular. Indeed the concepts of God as transforming love or divine energy unless earthed in risky imagery and stories are a diluted insipid version of the offensive God Jesus was shoving into the faces
of his opponents.
We also need to rethink our vision of inclusive love - not that tolerance, justice, and understanding between peoples, races, religions, genders and orientations is an unworthy goal. Yet the vision often has an underlying premise of us the powerful letting the powerless in, or us the powerless wanting the powerful to invite us in. To use the image of an all-inclusive dining table with us all sitting around together, we need to ask where this table is located, and who has set the menu.
Or put another way, where and with whom is this offensive God? Remember the parable of the lost sheep, and the one after it with God as a sweeping woman. This God leaves the 99 well-feed and respectable church and business leaders, and goes AWOL. This God of Jesus doesn’t do normal, or expected, or civilised.
This God could be found on the banks of the Brisbane River three weeks ago when a group of gay friends grieving a young man’s death threw high heels into the water. God threw one of Hers in too.
This God was blowing raspberries at the back of a meeting of the ruling council of the Northern Irish Free Presbyterian Church when they ousted this week their founder Ian Paisley for his tolerance of Gay Pride marches. She also danced for joy that such a dogged hardliner as Paisley could change, albeit a little.
Will we turn and face this offensive God overcoming the objections of grumblers, and the grumbling inside ourselves?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
