Don’t stem the flow

Mark 3.22-30

Jesus was an unsettling figure. This is something evident from the gospel accounts where, in so many instances, people were either for or against Jesus. Generally speaking, those pushed to the margins of society – the little people, as it were – were the ones who were drawn to Jesus. In contrast, the powerful, the self-sufficient, and the religious elite, saw Jesus as a threat to the status quo.

In this gospel reading, the reputation of Jesus had resulted in opposition arriving from Jerusalem. The scribes, we are told, attempted to discredit Jesus through what would prove to be an absurd accusation. Put simply, their argument was that Jesus was healing people, and casting out demons, not by the power of God but by the power of the devil.

Jesus responded, and we can almost imagine him rolling his eyes at the ridiculous logic of the scribes’ argument, by telling them how a house divided against itself cannot stand. Jesus could not be doing good works at the behest of the devil any more than the devil could do evil things at the behest of God. This was nonsense, and served only to expose the agenda of Jesus’ opponents which was to protect their vested interests by tarnishing the reputation of Jesus.

Jesus then concludes this episode by reminding his audience of the abundant forgiveness on offer from God for all who seek to avail themselves of it, with the caveat that blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is unforgiveable. This was aimed at those who had just accused Jesus of having an unclean spirit. The problem for them was not that God was turning his back on them but, rather, the opposite.

In Jesus, God was in their very midst, but their self-righteousness prevented them from seeing Jesus for who he was. Even worse, they deemed the works of God’s Holy Spirit to be the works of the devil, thereby cutting off the flow of God’s grace into their lives. Their eyes, ears, and hearts were closed off from God’s forgiveness, and that is why their sin was unforgiveable. They would need a change of heart.

Perhaps this is a cautionary tale for all of us, not that we are hostile to Jesus in the same way as the scribes in this story were. However, there may be times in life when anger, prejudice, bitterness, or an unwillingness to forgive someone who has wronged us stems the flow of God’s love in and through our lives, like a blockage in a stream. So, let’s be careful out there. God’s forgiveness will never be withheld, though never forced upon us. But we do need to ask.

Matters of the heart

Luke 18.9-14

This parable from Luke’s gospel is best understood by recognising the context into which it was spoken. Jesus sets up a contrast in the story between the attitude of the Pharisee and the tax collector. Pharisees belonged to the elite of the religious leadership in Israel, setting an example to the public with regard to observance of the Law. They were men who were expected to be role models with regard to religious belief and practice and, despite their considerable negative portrayal in the New Testament, many were just that.

In contrast, tax collectors are portrayed almost as pantomime villains, inviting boos every time they are mentioned. What is important to remember is that they were collecting taxes in a country under occupation for the benefit of the Roman empire. That gave an extra edge to the popular contempt in which tax collectors were held. However, just as not all Pharisees were hypocritical in their religious practice, not all tax collectors were corrupt. Some, maybe most, were simply earning a legitimate living – albeit in an unpopular occupation – and not cheating their fellow citizens by skimming off extra for themselves.

As is so often the case, generalisations about whole groups of people can be over-simplifications or even distortions of the truth, but they do allow for the sort of contrasts to be made that we see in this parable. Notice how it begins: ‘He (that is, Jesus) told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.’ Jesus then goes on to contrast the self-righteous attitude of the Pharisee, who climbed onto his own pedestal and boasted of his own religious superiority, with the humility of the tax collector who, just like him, had gone to the Temple to pray.

There is an ugliness in heart of this particular Pharisee that is evident in two ways. Firstly, he believes that his own standing before God is all down to him; he defines his goodness by his outward show. Secondly, he disparages the worth of other people who he regards as inferior, passing sweeping judgements on them. There is no sense of humility or integrity in his behaviour and the outward practices of praying, fasting and tithing appear more as self-justification that true service to God.

Striking a very different picture is the tax collector. Far from being an untrustworthy person or reflecting the popular negative caricature of his trade, he comes across as a man with a good heart. We read that he stood far off, unable even to look up to heaven. Far from believing that anything he could could put himself in God’s good books, he cries out, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ And Jesus remarks how it was this man, and not the Pharisee, who went home justified and happy.

This recognition that the direction of the heart, rather than outward show, is what matters to God and is the bedrock of our faith. God’s grace and mercy towards us, accepting us for who we are, and calling us into relationship is the motivation for the life we live. The good that we do is our response to God’s forgiveness and acceptance, never a way of earning it. The Pharisee in the parable never learnt that lesson, but the tax collector did. How, I wonder, might that parable speak to each of us in our own lives today?

Short but profound

Luke 17.7-10

In the gospel reading set for today (Nov. 10) we come across one of four short but profound sayings of Jesus, grouped together by Saint Luke. Each offers a brief insight into qualities of life to which followers of Jesus should aspire, individually and as Christian communities.

The sayings make sense together, so I will briefly comment on the three mentioned in the first six verses of the chapter (Luke 17.1-6) as well as on the fourth saying from today’s reading.

In the first saying, Jesus tells his disciples that occasions for stumbling are bound to come. In other words, there will be scandals between people. Hardly surprising as each of us has our faults and failings. But then Jesus emphasises the serious implications for those who deliberately set out to cause such disruption.

It would be better for any such person to have a millstone tied around their necks and be thrown into the sea. Death by drowning was considered a horrible and frightening death by people in Jesus’ day. This, of course, is not a literal instruction from Jesus, but an exaggeration to highlight and warn against the destructive nature of scandal. It is serious.

In the second saying, Jesus makes the point that those who cause scandal should, nevertheless, be forgiven as often as it is sought by the person responsible. Time after time, the same person can seek forgiveness and, if the remorse is genuine, it should be offered. This is not an easy ask for anyone who has suffered wrong, especially if repeatedly.

In the third saying, having heard the difficult nature of what has just been said, the disciples, not surprisingly, ask Jesus to increase their faith. Jesus replies by telling them that even faith the size of a tiny mustard seed is enough to move something as deep-rooted as a mulberry tree.

What Jesus may be implying is that even the tiniest amount of faith has potential that is hugely out of proportion to its size. No doubt that became a great encouragement to the disciples as many of them faced subsequently, persecution and death. It is also encouragement for each of us to nurture and live out our own faith as we journey through life.

In the fourth saying, today’s gospel reading, Jesus paints the picture of a slave returning from a day’s work in the fields, and then having to prepare his master’s meal. There was no expectation on the part of the master, and certainly not from the slave, that the slave himself would sit down at the table.

Slavery is, of course, anathema in this day and age (though, sadly, not yet eradicated), and this story is certainly not about Jesus promoting slavery. As always he speaks into the culture and context of his day, and we need to draw out carefully the point being made.

Just as the master was not under any requirement to be grateful to the slave for doing what were his obligations, the disciples should not fall into the trap of thinking that any of their own duties carried out in accordance with the Law of Israel would oblige God to do anything for them. Put another way, they could not earn their way into God’s good books. After all, God is God. How can we do anything but serve?

Every good gift that anyone receives from God is an act of pure grace and not something to be earned. Such blessings come from God freely and without strings, not through any obligation or in response to any good deeds. The story is a reminder that we should recognise with humility that the lives we live should be a response to God’s love freely given, and not as means of earning it.

Four short sayings, then, that contain huge insight into the life which we are called to live as followers of Jesus. We should avoid scandal, but find it in our hearts to forgive those responsible, time after time if necessary. We need faith to do that, but even the tiniest amount of faith can accomplish amazing things.

And, ultimately, our standing before God has nothing to do with our own good works, our duties, or our religious obligations, and everything to do with God’s unbounded love and mercy for each and every one of us.

Not in God’s name

On this day, May 4th, the Church of England remembers the English saints and martyrs of the Reformation era – a period which lasted from the 14th-17th centuries and was most intense during the 16th century.

During that turbulent time, many holy Christian men and women suffered for holding fast to what they believed to be the truth of the gospel. Protestants and Catholics alike were martyred for their faith, with those inflicting the violence doing so in the belief that they were the keepers of truth and their victims were heretical.

That is, of course, an over-simplification of the complex political, religious, and social factors of that time of persecution. But it does remind us of how religious belief can be warped and twisted to such an extent that the most appalling acts of cruelty and violence can be conducted ‘in God’s name’.

History is littered with such examples. While Christians were killing each other during the Reformation, today it is Muslims who are killing each other in various parts of the world. No religion is immune from the danger of convincing itself that it alone is the arbiter of God’s truth, which can lead to the slippery slope that moves from exclusivism, though authoritarianism, and eventually to persecuting those who do not comply.

The fact of the matter is that the persecution and killing of anyone for holding different beliefs can never be authenticated by claiming that it is in God’s name – whoever makes that claim – and such actions are always an affront to the God whom the perpetrators claim to serve.

At such terrible times the nature of God is visible not in the the persecutors but in those who bear witness to their faith and trust in God by facing their suffering with courage and dignity, revealing the moral and religious bankruptcy of their oppressors. In one of the readings appointed for today, St Paul puts it this way when speaking about the persecution of the early followers of Jesus at Corinth:

‘We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you. (2 Corinthians 4.8-12)

So on this day when we remember the Reformation martyrs, it is important to remind ourselves of two things.

• Firstly, with sorrowful hearts, we recall how easily religion can be distorted into a platform from which violence is perpetrated – allegedly in God’s name but, which in fact flies in the face of all that God is. Killing ‘in God’s name’ is nothing more than evil disguised.
• Secondly, the martyrs remind us that in every age there are godly men and women who are prepared to stand firm in the face of evil because they know the love of God in their lives and that it transcends the misguided actions of those who would do them evil. Death, for them, is not the worst thing that can happen.

May their example encourage us in our own lives to live with God’s love, compassion and mercy as our guiding principles in the face of whatever comes our way.

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Extending the hand of friendship

There is a great story in this week’s Church Times (22.03.13, p6). The parish of St John’s, Aberdeen, has made its church hall available to the local Muslim community every Friday to ease overcrowding at the mosque. This came about after the Rector noticed Muslim worshippers praying outside the mosque in the cold.

Not everyone took to the idea straightaway and Christians and Muslims alike had some reservations. But this act of kindness appears to be bearing fruit in strengthening the relationship between the two faith communities.

At the heart of Christian discipleship is the imperative to witness to the love of God as revealed in Christ. By loving their neighbours, extending the hand of friendship, and offering such gracious hospitality it seems to me that the people of St John’s are doing just that.