First Sunday in Lent

March 9                      NOTES FOR REFLECTION             First Sunday in Lent

Texts:  Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7; Romans 5:12-19; Matthew 4:1-11

Theme:  Probably best to play it straight this week.  I would avoid “The Temptation of Christ”, not because of its movie connotations, but to avoid any suggestion that temptation is something that happened to him back there then – whereas the emphasis must be on what happens to all of us each day.  I think we can capture both ideas by pinching a phrase from Hebrews, “Tempted in Every Way”, so that’s my pick for the week.

Introduction.  We enter the Lenten period with two great stories and one turgid theological tract.  It’s fashionable to scoff at the whole Adam and Eve thing, but for me this is one of the greatest stories ever told, and I never tire of coming back to it and pondering it all over again.  It so perfectly describes the human dilemma arising from our dual nature of thinking creature endowed with free will.  And it reminds us that our whole forensic concept of sin, as an instance of a breach of a particular provision of some detailed heavenly code of conduct for which a penalty will be imposed from on high, is wrong.  “Sin” is an attitude, a fundamental choice we make to lead our life our way instead of God’s way.  We see that perfectly illustrated today in Matthew’s account of the temptation of Christ is the desert.  In between St Paul spells out in laborious detail his answer to a very important question.  How can one man’s death have such universal implications as we claim for it?

Background.  As a recovering lawyer I still enjoy reading the court reports in the ODT from time to time, not for the lurid details of the offences reported, but for the ingenious defences that are sometimes raised.  Just lately I’ve spotted a bit of a trend.  In three cases reported in the same week defence counsel assured the judge the offences were “opportunistic”.  Presumably this is to show that there was no pre-planning, which always sounds so much worse somehow, except, perhaps to the victim.  If someone hits you over the head with a heavy object the amount of pre-planning is unlikely to have any immediate effect on the level of pain you experience.  But it occurred to me that, if I were appointed Eve’s defence counsel I might be tempted(!) to trot out this idea of “opportunism”. 

But I’m not sure.  The risk is that it might appear to be an attempt to shift the blame to the one who gave her the opportunity to offend in the first place.  Shopkeepers should not complain if children nick things from lower shelves – they should have ensured that such goodies were out of the reach of young arms.  And so the point for Eve might be:  well, what was the point of putting this particular fruit-producing tree in the very centre of the garden if you didn’t want her to eat that fruit?  With the benefit of hindsight do you not now accept that you were very unwise to put such temptation in her way – to give her the opportunity to help herself with such a tempting morsel?

A second “line of defence”, heard less frequently these days, although given an unsuccessful go this week by the non-recovering lawyer convicted of smuggling contraband goods into prison) is the one about the “victimless” offence.  (A topical example might be incest between consenting adults.)  Could I argue on behalf of Eve that she had caused no harm to anyone else and so she should be “acquitted of all charges”?  You see, that’s where the “forensic” approach to sin leads us.

A better insight into the biblical approach to sin might be drawn from parenting.  As a child few things irritated me more than my mother closing down my very well-reasoned and persistent questioning of some directive or other with the phrase “Because I say so!”  Many a time I swore to myself that if I ever became a parent I would never ever use that phrase with my child.  I would always take the time to reason with the child so that the child could understand that I was right, and was telling him or her what was best for him or her.  Of course, that policy was abandoned when my first child learnt the word “why”.  I soon latched on to a new phrase, “One of us has to be the adult here”, and vis-a-vis a two year-old I felt more qualified for that role than her.

Isn’t that the real issue for Eve?  Who is the “adult” here – the one who truly knows best – God or Eve?  Isn’t that always the issue for us when tempted to do something which we know is contrary to God’s will?  Who is the parent here – who is the God here?  And the parenting example may be helpful in reminding us that our relationship with God is not static – it involves spiritual growth.  Perhaps the reason why Adam and Eve are prohibited from eating the fruit of the tree is that they are not yet mature enough to handle the knowledge it will give them.  They must grow up first.  There may come a time when they are ready for that fruit, but that time is not yet.  Isn’t that what St Paul found with the new Christians at Corinth?  They were not mature enough to handle the spiritual gifts they developed – they wanted to run before they could walk, they wanted meat instead of milk before their spiritual” digestive system could handle the heavier diet.

It is interesting that at the heart of this story is a foodstuff.  Today we are constantly warned that we are heading for a “diabetes tsunami” – we are eating too much and we are eating the wrong types of food.  If we continue down this path more and more of us will surely die prematurely – not by way of divine punishment, of course, but simply as a natural consequence of exceeding the limits built into our bodies by our wise and loving Creator.  What does this story have to say about that?  Isn’t our over-eating a prime example of opportunism?  We wouldn’t over-eat if we didn’t have access to an excessive amount of food, would we?   So aren’t the real culprits here the food producers, or perhaps the Government for not implementing a “fat tax”?  On the other hand, who are the adults here? Perhaps it is time for the people of faith to recognise that over-eating is a spiritual issue – and when better to start reflecting on that than this period of Lent?

Now – where’s my comfort food?

Genesis.  First, hats off to the compilers of The Lectionary this week!  By isolating verses 15-17 and following them with the passage from chapter 3 we can focus on the heart of this wonderful story.  We begin in gift: God has created a garden and now puts the man to whom he has given life in the garden.  Up until that point Adam has done nothing; now he is given a role in the creative process; his role is to “till and keep” the garden.  Today we say “to be steward of creation”.  It is a role that carries great perks: Adam can help himself to the fruit of any of the trees in the garden, with one exception.  He must not eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil – to do so would result in his death.  Fast forward a while, until we find Eve confronted by a serpent, the embodiment of temptation.  The serpent opens by asking Eve what God really said.  Eve, of course, wasn’t there at the time, so she is relying on what Adam had told her.  Her response is fascinating.  She opens with a piece of pedantry: God and the serpent speak of eating “of the tree”: Eve is more precise, speaking of eating “of the fruit of the tree”.  But then she seems to widen the original ban: not only must they not eat of that fruit, they must not even touch it.  The serpent does not enter into the word-game: he shoes straight on the attack, and the target he chooses is interesting.  He denies any hurtful outcome that might arise from eating the fruit.  Far from doing you any harm, he says, it will be good for you.  So Eve is able to see the fruit in a new way: instead of something threatening her very life, she now sees it as nourishing, beautiful, and even as a source of new wisdom.  She shares her new understanding with Adam and together they share in their new discovery.  The outcome is immediate and profound.  In an extraordinary way, it fulfils the predictions of God and of the serpent.  Their eyes are opened and they see things differently and wrongly: in their immaturity they are thrown into confusion and attempt to hide from one another.  The fashion industry is born!

Taking It Personally.

·        A time for quiet reflection if ever there was one.  What does the term “sin” mean for you?  What most annoys you about the views expressed above?

·        Do you agree that eating unhealthy foods or unhealthy amounts can be considered a “spiritual issue”?  Does God know best what is good for us, or, by granting us the gift of free will, has he left it up to us to decide for ourselves?  Or both?

·        Do we have any responsibility for the health of others?  Where does feasting fit into all this?  Is an obese child an abused child?

·        Notice that there is no suggestion that the forbidden fruit is bad in itself.  What does that tell you about the nature of temptation?

·        What does the nature of the “ban” tell you about the nature of God?

·        What about giving up excessive eating for Lent, rather than some specific item(s)?  Would that be a helpful spiritual exercise for you?

 

Romans.  Not one of St Paul’s easier passages to grasp, but it’s worth a bit of effort.  He is addressing a very important question, one that I have been asked occasionally over the years.  It goes like this: even if everything you claim about Jesus is true, how can it be that his death, alone of all the billions of human deaths throughout history, can have any relevance to my own life today?  Isn’t that just too much of a stretch?  Well, says St Paul, we can understand it by looking at the converse situation.  We believe that one act of disobedience by one person has infected all human nature, so why should it not be the case that one perfectly healthy human being can heal all human nature?  This is one of the theological strands that had such an important place in the thinking of Teilhard de Chardin.  There is, he says, only one human being which is manifested in billions of individual ways, just as one body comprises billions of individual cells.  What is true of one cell is true of the whole body.  What is true of one human person is true of the whole body of humanity.  God, by entering into the body of humanity brings healing and wholeness to the entire body.  The difficulty lies not just in understanding this, but in believing it.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        I’m not sure how you can take this passage personally, but perhaps the first step might be to start with the liturgy.  What do you mean when you join with others and say, “We who are many are one Body for we all share the one bread”?

 

Matthew.  Again there is so much in this very familiar passage.  First, we should not overlook the fact that this passage does not purport to be an eye-witness account.  The only source can be Jesus himself.  Secondly, the event follows immediately after his baptism, and therein lies its psychological truth.  After the great spiritual high, comes the great spiritual reaction.  Isn’t that our experience?  Perhaps on a retreat we feel that we have had some great breakthrough or new insight: for a time everything now seems clearer, more certain: but some days later the doubt sets in.  Did something really happen, or was it all imagination?  Why aren’t I still experiencing this supposed new state of awareness?  In the desert Jesus wrestles with this sort of question: if I am the Son of God, how can I prove that to others and to myself?  By using my new powers to turn stones into bread?  By a death-defying leap off the top of the temple?  By assuming political power?  Or simply by placing myself completely at God’s disposal and trusting in him?

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Evelyn Underhill often railed against “the religion of magic”, by which she meant demanding of God that he perform a miracle of our choice.  Where do you draw the line between intercessory prayer and seeking a magical outcome?

·        What might the Church learn from Jesus’ clear rejection of attention-grabbing stunts?

·        The three temptations may represent our desire for personal well-being, a desire for admiration and affirmation, and a desire for power.  Which might you find the hardest to resist?

Notes for Reflection

March 2                                  NOTES FOR REFLECTION

Texts: Isaiah 49:8-16a; 1 Corinthians 4:1-5; Matthew 6:24-34

Theme:  “Blessed Assurance Trumps Private Insurance!”  I know, crazy stuff, but that popped immediately into my mind when I started this exercise this week.  You could, of course, play it safe and cut it back to the first two words (and there’s one of the hymns chosen already).  And the old favourite, “Stay Calm and Carry On”, might be a reasonable summary of the larger part of the gospel reading this week.  But what about that smaller, more deadly part – verse 24?  How about the Dick Turpin classic, “Your Money or Your Life”?  Scoff not: isn’t that really what we’re being asked in that verse?  But if you want something a little gentler, what about the more modern pious platitude, “Let Go and Let God”?  For all its cuteness, that bumper-sticker slogan is a fair summary of today’s piece of the Sermon on the Mount.

Introduction.  We’ve had some hard teaching over the last few weeks as we have looked below the surface appeal of the Beatitudes – just made for posters or even tea-towels – and struggled with their implications as the Lord has applied them to particular topics.  Today we are reminded that we can only attempt the way of life he is teaching because it is rooted in divine love.  No one describes this better than Isaiah in our first lesson this week, in what must be some of the finest love poetry ever written.  St Paul takes this theme in a new but connected direction: we are stewards of God’s gifts, not absolute owners: we are accountable to him for how we carry out that stewardship.  And then we have a sort of half-time break in the Sermon on the Mount – with another blow to our self-image just before the ref’s welcome whistle.  Never mind that there is another torrid time to come (have a quick peek at chapter 7 if you dare) – right now we need a break.  Right now we need the Coach to tell us not to worry.  We might be well behind on the scoreboard, but that doesn’t matter.  Only the final result matters – and WE CAN DO THIS!   Not by worrying about what might happen tomorrow, but by living out our faith today.

Background.  In one brief radio news bulletin this week I heard two items which together had a greater impact than the sum of their parts (if you see what I mean).  The first announced the selection of “The New Zealander of the Year” – a title given to a GP practising in Northland.  The second concerned a huge pay increase given to the CEO of the Hawke’s Bay Regional Council in recognition of his extra responsibilities in relation to the proposed dam.  Now this isn’t about those two individuals personally, but these two news items seem to me to illustrate wonderfully well the very issue that Jesus puts before us in somewhat blunt terms in verse 24.  Which master are we serving?  What is our motivation?

And we could come at this from a somewhat different angle.  Who do we most admire?  Followers of the news on TV1 will be familiar with the closing item on Sundays, “This Week’s Good Sort”, presented by Hayden Jones.  In two or three minutes we are shown someone, or sometimes a couple or small group, often facing their own struggles, reaching out to others in need, and providing marvellous support for them, not just in one-off emergencies but often week-by-week.  We may well know people like that in our own communities – “good sorts” is the right way of describing them.  Our New Zealander of the Year is very much a good sort himself: he provides a medical service to all those in need in his area, regardless of their ability (or, more usually, their inability) to pay.  Why does he do that?  Why does he take such an impractical approach to medical practice?  Doesn’t he know that a medical practice is a business and has to be run along prudent business-like ways?  Doesn’t he know (horror of horrors!) that his approach is “not sustainable in the long-term”?  Does he not realise that as his practice has grown and he has taken on more and more responsibilities he should be expecting a substantial increase in his take-home pay?

What if every doctor took such an approach?  Where would we be then?  Well, okay, we would be a lot healthier, and happier and far less stressed out; but surely our GDP would take a hit, or the tax-take, or something really important like that?  At the very least we should be calling in consultants to spend a lot of time and money to produce a proper cost-benefit analysis to be sure that the long-term reduction in hospital admissions would result in greater savings for the taxpayers than the reduction in taxes paid by medical practitioners...  

Do you remember the great share-market crash of 1987?  At that time I had a colleague who collected beautiful things, antiques, art works, and so on.  One day over morning tea she was telling us of her latest acquisition when someone made a rather snide remark (okay, it was me), something like, “it’s good to know the hard times haven’t caught up with you yet”.  She instantly reacted, insisting that she and her husband had worked hard over the years and had earned everything they had, etc.  What I should have done at that point was to apologise for my rudeness and changed the subject, but I didn’t.  Instead, I asked her: “And who gave you the strength and health and talents that have enabled you to do all that hard work over the years?”  In the context of social chit-chat that was, of course, outrageous, and it took a while to restore our relationship.  But years later we met at a funeral and she raised the incident, and told me how much she had reflected on that question, and how she felt it had gradually changed her outlook.  [Moral: God can use even our rudeness.]

So much of society’s goals we adopt for ourselves without really thinking about it, don’t we?  What do we tell our children to do when some other kid at school starts pushing them around?  Turn the other cheek?  Stand up for yourself – push him/her back?  What do we tell them to do at school?  Work hard so that they can – what?  Become “good sorts” – become like our New Zealander of the Year?  Or do we encourage them to reach for more self-centred goals?

We’re back to that fundamental choice with which we have been faced over recent weeks – the choice between life and death.  This week we may paraphrase it: a choice between faith and worry.  Of the two possible role models, the man from Hawke’s Bay would seem to have the more secure future, wouldn’t you say? But less worries?

Isaiah.  As a prelude to this reading go back to the start of this chapter 49.  Recognise it?  Yes, it is the second of the so-called Servant Songs.  It is because of the Lord’s Servant coming to us that we can know of God’s unfailing love for us, a love that protects and nurtures and provides.   There may be tough times when it seems that God has forgotten us; but what sort of parent ever forgets her or his child?  So what are we fretting about – why are we so anxious?

Taking It Personally.

·        Sit for a while in silence.  Listen to your inner noise.  What is going on inside you?  What is bugging you – what are you dreading – what, in short, are you worrying about?

·        In what way does worrying help the eventual outcome?  Would the eventual outcome have been worse if you hadn’t worried about it?

·        Read this passage slowly out loud.  Try to listen to it.  Hear it addressed to you by someone you trust and you know has your welfare at heart.  Then reflect on your feelings.  Has the passage had a therapeutic effect on you?  Has it calmed you down?

·        Notice the change in tone between verses 12 and 13.  The reassurance having been given, your response is now invited.  Without frightening the cat, sing for joy, if that’s how you now feel, and if you don’t feel like that, why not?

·        If you have children, think about them for a while.  Remind yourselves of those times when they have pushed your parental feelings a bit hard.  Was there ever a time when you really gave up on them – when you forgot them?

·        Look at the palm of your hand.  Write on your palm the name of a person you love.  (Use something washable: if you want something permanent get a tattoo.)  Spend some time thinking about that person.

·        Then read verse 16a again.  Imagine God’s hand with your name inscribed on it.  Give thanks.

·        Any worries now?

 

Corinthians.  St Paul’s major complaint against the Corinthians in these early chapters of the correspondence is that they are competing with one another by boasting about their own spiritual gifts.  “I can speak in tongues and you can’t!”  They are forgetting that they are recipients of the gifts, and it is of the nature of those gifts that they are not earned – they are not rewards for something previously done by the recipient – and therefore are not proper grounds for boasting.  Secondly, of course, such boasting involves the judging of other members of the congregation.  St Paul takes this one step further by suggesting that judging ourselves involves only human judgment and is therefore likely to be suspect.  Only God can judge us.  I’m not sure what the proverb, maxim, or whatever it is in verse 6 means.  A rough translation may be “Stick to the Script” – do and say only what the Spirit tells you and don’t make up stuff for yourself.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        The converse of boasting about our spiritual gifts is denying we have any.  Are you guilty of that?  How would you feel if you gave someone a gift and they denied having received it?  So what gifts has God given you?  Give thanks.

·        Are you inclined to be too hard on yourself sometimes?  Who are you to judge yourself?  Isn’t that the question St Paul is asking here?  Is that helpful for you, or does it seem like an evasion?

 

Matthew.  Once again Jesus’ teaching comes straight at us.  Which is it to be – wealth or spiritual well-being?  He has never heard of the gospel of prosperity, it seems.  Once again it is a matter of a stark choice: which way do we choose to follow?  Around whom or what do we intend to centre our life?  What are the false gods or masters that we might be tempted to follow instead of him?  This week he names the most obvious candidate – made all the more dangerous because it hides behind many names.  But the NRSV gets it right:  it no longer refers to Mammon with a capital letter – a name that sounds like a shortened version of Agamemnon or some other shadowy figure from a long-forgotten Greek story.  Now it speaks of “wealth”, not quite as in-your-face as “the mighty dollar”, “dosh”, or bit-coins, but clear enough to strike a chord.  And it’s not too hard to see the connection between this and the rest of this passage, is it?  Get rid of our concerns about money, getting it, saving it, making sure nobody pinches it, investing it so as to get more of it, and so on and so on, and there isn’t much left to worry about, is there?

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Is God more or less important to you than your career, your home, or your family?  Monitor your feelings as you react to this question.  Who or what is your master?

·        Re-do the first two exercises suggested for the passage from Isaiah.

·        Now read slowly through verses 25 to 34.  Monitor your feelings as you respond to it.  Are you aware of any feeling or irritation?  Imagine you are having a one-on-one session with Jesus and Jesus is “counselling” you along the lines of these verses.  How long before you interrupt?  What do you want to say to him, even if your nerve fails?

·        Can you recall a situation where you gave up trying only to find that things worked out well from then on?

·        This week practice living day by day.  Try not to think about what may or may not happen tomorrow.  Concentrate fully on whatever is before you at the time.  At the end of the week, review this practice.  Has it been easy, difficult, maddening, helpful, or what?

 

February 23 NOTES FOR REFLECTION

 

Texts:  Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18; 1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23; Matthew 5:38-48

Theme:  Immediate thoughts include “Run For It!”, “No More Wriggle Room”, or perhaps, simply “We Surrender”.  Last week we were invited to choose between life and death; this week some would say we are being urged to “Choose Death”.  I’m going for “Disarming Love”.  An alternative approach may be to go deeper into these readings and focus on what they are really about – becoming like God.  Something like “Becoming Holy”, or “Becoming the Temple of the Spirit”, or “Becoming Perfect”, say; or, to be a little more subtle, “The One True Role Model”.

Introduction.  There is a real “in-house” feeling to all three of these readings today, and we can easily get ourselves into hot water if we overlook it.  These readings (like the whole of Scripture, really) are directed to the people of faith, rather than to the world at large.  They DO NOT mandate a national policy of disarmament and pacifism: what they do mandate is a complete reversal of our own attitudes and behaviour towards those we, the people of faith, consider our enemies.  And within that framework there is a clear tension discernible in these readings between the universal scope of this teaching, and its application specifically to our fellow members of our faith community.  A clear example of this is found in our first lesson; in verse 10 the rights of the alien are to be recognised, but in verses 17 and 18 the focus has narrowed to “your kin” and “your people”.  St Paul’s teaching is unashamedly in-house, and I would contend that the whole of the Sermon on the Mount is directed to those who are, or are considering becoming, followers of Jesus: see Matthew 5:1 – “his disciples came to him.  Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:”.

Background.  I sometimes suspect that one of the reasons we prefer to concentrate on the actions of Jesus, including his miracles, is that they tend to keep our minds away from his teaching.  When we are confronted by that – and if we allow ourselves to really listen to it – we find that being a spectator is more fun than being a participant – or should that be, “a target”?  Because that’s what it so often feels like, doesn’t it?  Depending on our own particular life experiences, we might be more likely to squirm at his teaching against materialism, or divorce, or anger, or whatever.  But nothing quite stirs our blood as much as his teaching on forgiveness, and, in its full-blown version, loving our enemies and refusing to hit back when attacked.  What on earth are we to make of all this?

Well, first let me stir your blood with this thought: “One hundred years after Samuel Marsden first preached the good news in this land the First World War started.”  Now pause and check your response (and your pulse) to that statement.  It is, of course, factually correct: this year happens to be the centenary of the outbreak of the war and the bicentenary of Marsden’s famous Christmas Day sermon.   But so sensitive are we about our attitude as Christians towards war, that we immediately reacted to that statement because of the natural inference that those two events are in some way linked, and we don’t want them to be, do we?  We don’t want any suggestion that, as the Bishop of Dunedin leads a Hikoi of Joy around his diocese during Lent to mark the bicentenary of Marsden’s proclamation of peace, he might need to acknowledge that many of those who held equivalent rank in this country and in Britain were unashamed and outspoken supporters of the war that broke out in 1914, to the extent that many were described as “very effective recruiting agents”.  What is certain is that in this country conscientious objection was just as unacceptable within the Church as it was in the country at large.

Now, here’s another thought that those of a more pacifist persuasion might need to ponder; and by way of introduction I want to use a very interesting example put forward by one of New Zealand’s top diplomats of his day, a man of faith, and of great integrity.  Addressing the Annual General Meeting of the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship some years ago he began with this: “What should the Good Samaritan have done if he had arrived on the scene an hour or so earlier when the assault was taking place?”  He is lauded for his “mopping-up operation”, and two thousand years later his “name” is still synonymous, even with those who do not consider themselves Christian, with loving service to those in need.  But what if he had arrived when the attack was taking place?  Should he have simply stood by and waited until it was time to clean up? Would he be lauded today if he had resorted to armed force in order to drive off the attackers?

This “argument” was grounded for me when I attended a talk given by Fr Michael Lapsley, a New Zealand born priest who supported the ANC in South Africa, and who was severely injured when he was sent a parcel bomb by the South African Security forces.  Fr Michael said that at one time he would have described himself as a Christian pacifist, but not any more.  However, it wasn’t the injuries to himself that had changed his views: that change had come about much earlier when he had witnessed security forces open fire on a crowd of unarmed youths and children who were demonstrating.  He realised that, if he had been armed at the time, he would have felt compelled to open fire on the attackers as the only way to save those young people in that situation.

What these two cases made me realise is that our Lord’s teaching forbids SELF-DEFENCE; but he does not seem to have addressed the issue of the defence of others.  If I am attacked I should not retaliate; if the Christian community is attacked, it should not retaliate.  That, I think, is undeniably the teaching of Christ.  Indeed, even among those scholars who spend their entire careers trying to discount so much of Christ’s teaching as the creative work of the gospel writers themselves, there seems to be near unanimous agreement that this teaching can only have come from Jesus.  It is so counter-cultural – and so “unacceptable” to all right-thinking citizens – that no gospel writer would have invented it.  Spreading the message would have been so much easier without this bit in it!

And we also have the witness of the practice of the Church in the first three centuries of its existence.  Until the fourth century when Constantine and his successors decided to divide the world into the Christian Roman Empire and everyone else, to bear arms, to be a soldier, was officially considered to be incompatible with membership of the Church.

So where does all this leave us?  In need of protection, perhaps, from the warring factions of pacifist zealots and their militaristic counterparts.  My personal difficulty during my years as a member of the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship was to resist what I saw as a form of pacifist legalism, or extremism, which came to a head when the majority insisted that the Fellowship should oppose armed intervention by an international peace-keeping force with a mandate to keep warring factions apart while a peace agreement could be worked out.

All Jesus’ teaching is surely first and foremost about love.  The question for us as we seek to follow him is always the same: what in this particular situation I now find myself in is the most loving thing to do?  People like Fr Michael have taught me that to sit on my principles while others are massacred may not meet that test.  The harder part is to accept, as the shadow of the cross begins to fall across our path, that our own life is not to be saved at the cost of our enemy’s.

Leviticus.  It is somewhat ironic to move from a struggle against legalism to a consideration of a passage from the Book of Leviticus!  Yet it has one marvellous point we should not skip past as we read or listen to it.  The reason why we should follow all these “rules and regulations” is not so that we may avoid penalties for infringements or earn Brownie points for compliance, but so that we can become holy – that is, we may become like God.  Of course, some of the specific prohibitions in the Book of Leviticus strike us as bizarre (thank goodness this reading ends at verse 18!), but that’s not the point.  The point is, now I come to think of it, an earlier version of what I said above about the guiding principle of love.  In EVERY situation, says the Book of Leviticus, seek the will, the teaching, the instruction, of the Lord your God.

Taking It Personally.

·        Focus on some routine, everyday activity and ask yourself how you might apply these principles to that activity.  For example, when you clean your teeth, how might you do it in a thoughtful, faithful way?  You may give thanks for the gift of water (or your teeth!); you may remember those who do not have a safe and secure water supply; you may commit yourself to be even more careful in your use of water, and so on.  In other words, what is the most loving (or godly) way of cleaning your teeth?

·        Libel/slander has been much in our news this week.  Reflect on your own “record” this week.  Have you spoken ill of anyone – even under your breath?

·        Similarly, review your week in the light of verses 17 and 18.  Is there anyone to whom you need to be reconciled, or to whom you owe an apology?  Are you bearing a grudge or other ill-feeling towards anyone else at the moment?

 

Corinthians.  St Paul has now worked himself up into one of his periodic lathers, although he is not quite ready to change the subject.  For our purposes this week I suggest verses 16 and 17 are the heart of the message.  Just as each one of us needs to live our lives of faith guided by the Spirit in each and every circumstance, so collectively we must recognise that, as a community of faith, we are being built into a temple for that Spirit.  Our neighbour should see in each one of us, and in our community of faith, the better way.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        A time for spiritual stock-taking.  Can your neighbour see in you a little more each year of the difference your faith is making in your life?  Are you a better advertisement for the Christian way of life than you were a year ago?

·        What evidence might there be of the presence of the Holy Spirit in your local church compared to your local supermarket?

·        Are you aware of any divisiveness or factionalism in your local church?  If you are, have you contributed to it in any way?  What can you do to help heal the wounds?

 

Matthew.  To a persecuted minority in an occupied country Jesus gives this teaching.  And notice how personal he makes it.  Sometimes we might try to turn this whole issue into major debates and intellectual discussions, or at least into political arguments.  [Watch what our politicians and our press make of the centenary of the start of World War I.]  To Jesus, and to his listeners, this is no philosophical debate: this is tough every day stuff.  I was going to say, this is about everyday survival, but, of course, following this teaching did not promote his or their survival – it severely lessened their chances.  We have only to “transplant” it into any of the myriad places that fill up our TV news bulletins each night to realise how it must have sounded to the people who heard him.  If we are slapped around we must not strike back; if we are robbed we must not demand restitution; if our churches are burned down we must not burn down our attackers’ mosques.  There is a better way and we can only demonstrate it by the way in which we live and die.  A hearty chorus of Te Harinui is not enough.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        You know what to do with this – line by agonising line.  This way – and only this way – lies spiritual growth.  Good luck!

Notes for Reflection

February 16                            NOTES FOR REFLECTION

Texts: Deuteronomy 30:15-20; 1 Corinthians 3:1-9; Matthew 5:21-37

Theme:  The first thing that popped into my mind as I started to think about the theme of this week’s readings was a rhetorical question: “Is this any way to live?  Or perhaps, if we are really going to use this approach for a theme, we should pick something a little more assertive: “This is the Only Way to Live.”  Whatever else our readings are about this week they are surely about reminding us that real faith is about real life – about real issues that confront us in the real world.  It’s not primarily about making a difference, but living differently.  We will only become a light to others when we become “brighter” than others!  So something a little more up-market might be “Living the Vision” or “The Lifestyle Choice”: but please, NOT “Our own little bit of Paradise”!

Introduction.  We start with Deuteronomy this week, which spells out the choice of lifestyle theme in black-and-white, and the importance of making the right fundamental choice.  It really is a matter of life and death.  St Paul sets the theme for the gospel by showing the community of faith at Corinth what their present style of life is really like.  And Matthew disturbs our peace of mind with another challenging extract from the Sermon on the Mount.

Background.  Now in my golden (=gold card) years I tend to look back almost as much as I look forward.  What may be described rather loosely as my working life can be divided into two halves, one focussed on the law and the other on faith, and the product of all those years comes down to this: the purpose of law is to restrain human nature; the purpose of faith is to change it.  [That may not seem a lot to show for the last fifty years or so, but it’s all I can offer at the moment so do your best to look impressed.]  The events of this week illustrate that maxim pretty well, and the readings do the same.

Just think of some of the names that were in our headlines this week: Vice-Chancellor (or should that be CEO?) Harlene Hayne; Jesse Ryder and Doug Bracewell; Major Campbell Roberts; Kim Dotcom; Mallory Manning and the Mongrel Mob;  Shane Jones and the Aussie supermarket brigade;  Shapelle Corby; and, of course, a large number of people who passed out of the Wellington Sevens tournament and into the Emergency Department of the Public Hospital suffering from self-inflicted harm.  What’s the common theme there?  Major Campbell Roberts said it all: it’s about lifestyle.  Until we stop choosing a life of self-interest and start caring about other people, the problems we face as a country (and as individuals) are only going to get worse.

Do we want a society in which education is just one more product, alongside beer, to be sold to the highest bidder?  A world in which huge salaries are paid to sportsmen who need regular hospital treatment offered by people who are far better qualified and paid far less than those great role models?  Do we want a world in which prostitution is held-up as a legitimate lifestyle choice (even a career path) with all the degradation, drug abuse, violence and criminal offending attendant on it?  Do we want a world in which competition is to be glorified even when it leads to tactics in our supermarkets that smack of extortion?

So where is the law in all this?  The best that we can say for the law is that things would be even worse without it; and, sometimes, the law can at least give us the satisfaction of seeing someone held to account.    

Then what about education, training, or (as was seriously suggested for Jessie Ryder this week) “a little more guidance and support”?  Of course, this ought to make sense.  Education ought to be the route to better decision-making.  But whenever I start to believe this I remember the question put by Dr Erich Geiringer to a witness before the Royal Commission on Liquor in 1974 to a witness who was passionately propounding the case for education as the means of tackling alcohol abuse: “If knowledge of the harm caused by alcohol abuse reduces the incidence of alcohol abuse, why does the medical profession have the highest rate of alcohol abuse among all the professions in this country?” I rest his case.

To sum up, the law can give us practical, rational reasons for not doing something that is harmful, either to ourselves or to others (and usually to both).  So, too, can education, of course.  But if they were enough in themselves the world would be a very different place, and its human inhabitants would be a very different species.  The Hebrew Scriptures tell us that the Law, even when handed down from God, and even when backed by centuries of education, training and practice, are not enough in themselves.  As a species we need something more.  We need the power to transcend our natural selves, to overcome the dictates of our natural instincts bred into us through the millennia of evolution.  We need to be set free to choose the better lifestyle.  We need saving from ourselves.  We need someone, not only to show us the way to live, but also to empower us to live it.  We need God, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

And we need to remember that WE are God’s target audience.  It is all too tempting to forget that the Scriptures are not directed to the human race in general, but to the people whom God calls to himself to be his people, the people of faith.  As someone has said (well, okay, it was me but even so it was quite wise), God’s will does not need enacting, it needs following.  All too often in the past we have looked to Parliament to enact a law to make people change their ways, when what God really wants us to do is adopt his ways.

Deuteronomy.  We’ve heard a lot about last chances and final warnings this week; and there is a sense in which the last few chapters of this Book can be understood in that sort of light.  The escape from slavery in Egypt was God’s doing; the extraordinary survival in the wilderness was God’s doing.  We might say that the Exodus was the birth event for the Hebrews, and the wilderness years constituted their infancy, adolescence, and youth, during which they were brought up by God, guided, protected and instructed by him.  Now they are on the verge of adulthood.  God is still with them, of course, but they are now ready to take more responsibility for their own well-being.  They are given a new freedom, a new opportunity, a fresh start.  This passage spells it out.  They are now free to live the life they have been taught, or to reject it and choose their own path.  And let’s be clear about the meaning of this choice.  Perhaps we have in our minds a life to be lived under divine surveillance: if they follow the right path God will reward them accordingly: if they do not, God will punish them severely.  That is not what this passage means.  It teaches that a life lived in accordance with God’s will is a blessed life, an enjoyable, enriching life, not one of drudgery to be lived in order to be rewarded (compensated) later. Equally, a life lived in contravention of God’s will is an unhealthy one, leading ultimately to our own destruction.

Taking It Personally.

·        Are you put off by the legalistic language in this passage?  Try writing it out in the language of advice or guidance.

·        Notice how changing the tenor of the language changes your image of God (perhaps from Commanding Officer to loving parent or teacher).

·        Looking back, are you conscious of having made a “whole-of-life” choice at some stage to follow God in the way envisaged by this passage?

·        Have there been times when you have been “led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them”?  How would you name those gods – success, career, popularity, money, family, self-indulgence?

 

Corinthians.  St Paul uses that theme of infancy and immaturity as he continues to upbraid the relatively new believers at Corinth.  Their behaviour reveals their immaturity.  They are squabbling like fractious children.  There is “jealousy and quarrelling” among them; and, most apposite of all, they are “behaving according to human inclinations”.  They have lost sight of God.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Looking back, are you more mature in your faith than you were, say, 5 years ago?  What differences can you see in the way in which you live out your faith day by day?

·        St Paul’s imagery gets a little confused here.  Are you a planter, a waterer, a field or a building?  Or maybe one of God’s servants?

·        To whom do you belong?  In what sense?

·        Is there division within your local church?  Are you responsible for it?  What can you do to help heal any such divisions?

 

Matthew.  This week we have a second instalment of the Sermon on the Mount as Jesus “unpacks” the Beatitudes.  Cast as maxims or broad principles they can easily sound good to the ear without penetrating much deeper; but now we get to go a little deeper and they begin to sting.  “Blessed are the meek” sounds rather nice, if counter-intuitive.  But verses 21-26 spell out just some of the implications of this sweet-sounding principle.  It means never losing our temper with other members of our fellowship (even during a vestry meeting), and never insulting them or even calling them rude names.  Tougher still, perhaps, it means never pretending that all is sweetness and light between us when it isn’t, even to the point of not taking Communion until we have sorted the issue out.  And it also means that if we are in dispute with someone in the church (even if he is the Bishop) we don’t start legal proceedings – we sought it out within the community of faith.

“Blessed are the pure in heart” is another one that sounds gentle and almost reassuring, until we test it in the light of verses 27-30.  [By the way, what happened to gender-inclusive language here?]

Verses 31 and 32 are even more problematic.  First it is notorious that Matthew has tampered with the teaching here, by inserting the proviso “except on the ground of unchastity (terrible word for which the NRSV must take responsibility)”; the proviso is not in Mark’s or Luke’s version.  Matthew’s approach turns what is clearly a matter of broad principle into something more like a technical piece of law.  Secondly, we need to be particularly careful about the pastoral issues surrounding these verses.  It is one thing to uphold the ideal, quite another to treat divorced people in the way that has all-too-often happened in the recent past.

We finish with a peculiar concern about oaths that does not seem to us of quite the same importance as it did in Jesus’ time.  As a matter of personal practice, I do not swear on the Bible; on the two occasions I have been called to give evidence in court I have made an affirmation, but I’m not sure why.  And Moses seems to have had a different view: Deuteronomy 30:19.

Taking It Personally.

• Read slowly through the whole reading first, remembering that it is a small part of a long block of teaching that Matthew has collected together in chapters 5-7.  Notice the range of topics covering both personal issues and inter-personal ones.  Can you detect any common threads?
• Which of the particular issues covered this week causes you the most anguish?  Why?  Can you talk to anyone about it?  Can you pray about it?
• Is there anyone you are cross with at this moment?  What can you do about it?
• Is there anyone within your community of faith with whom your relationship is strained at present?  What can you do about that?
• How would you summarise the type of community envisaged in the Sermon on the Mount; and how does that compare with the community we presently have within the church?
• Do you have any suggestions to offer at your parish AGM?