The Honours List

Last week, the annual Australia Day Honours List was announced: a list of people recognised for their contribution to our nation. So it is timely that in tonight’s reading, Jesus gives us his own honours list: the people honoured for the way they embody and contribute to God’s culture. The Australia Day Honours List usually includes politicians, military officers, scientists, sports stars, charity workers, artists, businesspeople, and others. Who do we find on Jesus’ honours list? Well, as you can imagine, it’s a bit different.

First up on Jesus’ list are the people who have no sense of entitlement. We all know people with a strong sense of entitlement: they are arrogant and proud. They grab at everything, but they are never satisfied. On the other hand, those who know that life is a gift and that the world owes them nothing will be constantly delighted by God’s goodness, and always eager to share. And so of course they are honoured in God’s culture!

Next, we find people who enter into their grief. You might have noticed that those who shy away from their suffering become brittle and hard; but those who face up to their suffering learn much about themselves and others. They often discover God’s extraordinary comfort, and learn compassion, a compassion which they pour out on the world. Their compassion softens hearts all around them, and they are greatly loved—and they are honoured in God’s culture!

On Jesus’ list, we find people who engage in nonviolence, and who hunger and thirst for justice. For those who refuse to participate in the violence of the world align themselves with Jesus. They have caught a vision of a life greater than their own; this vision will give their own lives great meaning, and they will be deeply satisfied. And they are honoured in God’s culture!

We also find the contemplative, for they have turned their backs on the rat race, and opened their hearts and minds to the love of God. By taking the time to pray, and facing up to their own shadows, they see God’s face: and so they are honoured in God’s culture!

Of course, the people honoured by God are not the people most often honoured in our society. Some of the people on this year’s honours list might fit the bill, but many of our leaders do not. A quick flick through any newsfeed suggests that we usually value other qualities instead. Jesus honours the humble, the peacemaker, the compassionate and the just, but we seem to reward the arrogant, the wealthy, the hard-hearted and the corrupt, placing them into positions of leadership and remunerating them greatly. Yet too many of our leaders are bullies, braggarts and liars. Too many refuse genuine dialogue; they speak only to tear others down, build themselves up, and win political points. Too few show compassion; too few take responsibility for their actions; too few have a vision of a just world.

Next week, we will be choosing leaders for our congregation, and I hope it’s a no-brainer when I say that we are not looking for the arrogant and the proud! But what are we looking for? The book of Acts tells of a time when the early church needed to appoint people to positions of responsibility. The apostles decided not to select the new leaders themselves. Instead, they asked the congregation to choose from among them people of “good standing, full of the Spirit and wisdom” (Acts 6:3). Not people with a particular skill set, not the privileged, but those full of the Spirit and wisdom. If we are to follow their example, then our leaders should be chosen from among the regular attenders by the congregation; and they should be people who demonstrate the fruits of the Spirit, that is, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

These qualities are rarely seen among our public leaders, and they are often mocked—but they are what we are looking for here. For they require courage, and they lead straight to Jesus’ honours list. It takes courage to be good: to stand up for justice when doing so causes others to mock and even attack you; it takes courage to exercise self-control, and not fight back. It takes courage to relinquish privilege, and to live humbly. It takes courage to be vulnerable, and to do the hard work of grief. It takes courage to live authentically, rather than hide behind the shallow masks our society hands out. It takes courage to pray and face our shadows, rather than fill our days with busy-ness and clutter. Living courageously, living a wholehearted life, means walking through conflict, refusing to retaliate, being vulnerable, offering and accepting forgiveness, seeking freedom, living joyfully, and learning to love. We may not see these practices among many political or corporate leaders, but then, we’re engaged in a very different project: for we are called to model a different way to the society around us, a way that is shaped not by and for the privileged, but shaped by God’s culture and God’s heart for the world. 

Jesus tells his disciples that the kingdom of heaven, God’s reality, is very close, and is even now sending shoots and sparks into our world. Like yeast in the bread, like salt in the soup, God’s culture is what gives this world flavour and life—and we are the bearers of this culture. So let us all pray for the courage to open ourselves to the Spirit, that God’s culture might blossom among us, and bear much fruit. And next week, let us choose courageous people full of Spirit and wisdom, to lead us in the year to come. Ω

A reflection for Sanctuary, 29 January 2017, referring to the Beatitudes in Matthew. My paraphrase of the text is here.

Beatitudes: Matthew 5:1-12: A paraphrase

When Jesus saw the crowds which surrounded him, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

“Honoured are those who have no sense of entitlement,

for God's culture is their culture.

 Honoured are those who grieve,

for they will be comforted.

 Honoured are the nonviolent,

for they will inherit the earth.

 Honoured are those who hunger and thirst for justice,

for they will be satisfied.

 Honoured are the compassionate,

for they will receive compassion.

 Honoured are the contemplative,

for they will encounter God.

 Honoured are the peacemakers,

for they will be called children of God.

 Honoured are those who are persecuted for justice’s sake,

for God's culture is their culture.

 Honoured are you when people revile you and persecute you and speak all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in God's reality, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

Not domestic, not a goddess: Mary the prophet

The gospel doesn’t show us a domesticated Mary, nor are we shown a heavenly queen. Instead, we are shown a woman, a prophet, who is, quite literally, on the road. We see her walking into the Judean hills, visiting with cousins, or giving birth, not at home but in another town. We see her fleeing to Egypt, or on the road to Jerusalem, or outside a house where Jesus is. We see her at a wedding, at the cross, or visiting the tomb. What we don’t see is Mary at home, engaged in domestic duties.

To read more, click here.

Picture by Scott Griessel, found at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rev-david-felten/oy-vey-maria-the-virgin-b_b_4476301.html?ir=Australia

Small Ghosts

Small ghosts trail behind so many families, invisible to the naked eye or the quick hello.

Rena bustles around her son's birthday party, passing food and welcoming guests. During a lull, we chat. 'Did you ever think of having a second child?' I ask. 'Oh, we did,' she says, 'but he died. He was eight weeks old. He got an infection, it entered his heart, and he died.' I place my hand on her shoulder; there are no words.

***

You can read more of this All Souls Day reflection published in Eureka Street here.

Armfuls of roses

There were many things my stubborn and self-righteous old grandfather did wrong. There's no doubt about that; even he admitted to and apologised for many of them. But I'd like to remember what he did very well indeed: he made a marriage last for 64 years; he saw himself as his wife's husband even when she was almost completely silenced by Alzheimer's; and he was faithful to the end.

There were many things this child never saw or understood, but these are the things that remain: he was surprised and delighted every time she brought out the violet crumbles, rubbing his hands together in anticipation before tucking in. He thanked his wife every night when he sat down to dinner, and always remarked on how delicious the food was. He patted her arm and called her 'pet', and meant it with great affection.

A person could do worse than to be grateful: for his sweet but vague wife, for the meals that appeared with clockwork regularity, for every shiny foil wrapped sweetie. A person could do worse than to plant a garden so his wife could have armfuls of roses whenever she did the church flowers.

A person could do a lot worse than to cherish someone for decades. As they aged, my grandfather seemed to became more affectionate towards my grandmother. He had always been thankful for her to some degree, but in later years, after a lifetime of gratitude, he expressed it in small ways every day. As she became more and more forgetful, I watched him wrestle with his frustration and choose to be protective, instead.

The choice ran deep, so that for the last couple of years, my grandfather sat with his wife at a nursing facility hour after hour, day after day, as she gradually lost all her faculties. He refused other options, seeing it as his duty to stay by her side, keeping his familiar face in sight, and acting as her protector and advocate. As her memory faded, her speech disappeared and her reflexes returned to those of an infant, still he sat, her husband to the end.

The man who had been angry and judgmental, even violent at times, the man who my parents' friends from student days, now grandparents themselves, still refer to as 'Father Abraham' in slightly awed tones, learned late in life to curb his temper and his tongue. At some stage he opted for patience and gentleness; and with regular practice, he mastered them.

A person could do an awful lot worse than to soften as they age. He gives me something to aim for.

Photo shows my grandmother: what a woman!

Keith Milne

A few words for a beloved family friend, Keith, who recently passed away.

***

Spirit
Seventy years could not hide
Eyes and grin like a little boy
Who stole a plum from the neighbour’s tree
And twinkles still with remembered joy.

Body
His gnarled hands, one nail snapped short,
turned an eggcup from huon pine
so fine it seems too good to use.
On tapering leg
it holds my egg
and memories of those hands,
that grin, the van the yellow of soft boiled yolk,
sparkling eyes that loved a joke,
a little boy in old man’s skin,
a loyal friend, one of those men
who loved and served and lived life well.
Finished now, like my eggshell.

Mind
What I will miss most
Is how he always turned his head,
Cupped his hand behind his ear,
And leaned near me
As if everything I said,
And you said and she said,
As if everything we all said
Was worth hearing.

St Jerome had a skull on his desk

Me, in an idiotic random aside as I'm getting dressed: I think I'm getting too fat for these pants.

Her, matter-of-factly: Yes, you're almost dead.

***

A couple of weeks ago, I flew interstate for my grandmother's funeral.

Her, screaming: I want to come, I want to come.

Me: Not this time.

Her, stamping her foot: It's not fair. I've never seen a dead body and you get to see another one!

***

Her: When you go to heaven, Mum, you can see your grandma and your mum. When I go to heaven, I'm going to see Lucy [a dog].

***

St Jerome had a skull on his desk to remind him of his mortality. I have a four-year-old.