Sunday, 27 October 2013

Jonah 1:1-16



Jonah must be the best known of the twelve minor prophets.  His story is retold time and time again – and it is a colourful and vivid story, dramatic, concise and powerful.  Its most memorable feature is undoubtedly the encounter with the big fish, but there is a whole lot in there about the full range of human experience and about God’s encountering human beings.  It is interesting that the big fish has grabbed all the attention – even though it is only mentioned in three verses.   It is also interesting that it has become so well known, but that is probably precisely because it is so absurd.  Telling the story of Jonah is almost like telling a joke.  It’s crazy. 
One commentator[1] suggests that other prophets have influential ideas and theology “but the book of Jonah has the best story” adding “many people are familiar with the story of Jonah but often their knowledge of the story comes more from popular retellings of the narrative than from the text itself.”  Another[2] suggests that it is “easy not to take the little story of Jonah seriously” pointing out, as an example, that “Voltaire took delight in scoffing at its improbabilities.”  A third commentator[3] indicates that “... it offers a totally different kind of experience for the reader from that of other prophetic books.”  This book “has tantalized and intrigued scholars and commentators from the start.  Although on the surface the story appears fairly simple and straightforward, it soon becomes apparent that underlying it a complex and fascinating web is spun by an author drawing on a range of resources as he grapples with conflicting perceptions of God.  The result is an exquisite gem, unique in the pages of holy Scripture and unparalleled in contemporary writings.”  And a fourth commentator[4] says of the book – “psychologically aware, accurate, compassionate, humourous and hopeful, the book is dynamite.” 
Martin Luther describes the prophet Jonah as “a queer and odd saint who is angry because of God’s mercy for sinners, begrudging them all the benefits and wishing them all evil ...  And yet he is God’s dear child.  He chats so uninhibitedly with God as though he were not in the least afraid of Him – as indeed he is not, he confides in Him as a father.”  And Luther goes on to make the point that, in view of the repentance of Nineveh, “I am tempted to say that no apostle or prophet, not even Christ himself, performed and accomplished with a single sermon the great things Jonah did.  His conversion of the city of Nineveh with one sermon is surely as great a miracle as his rescue from the belly of the whale, if not an even greater one.”
Now, before we turn to the text itself, let’s consider what kind of writing this is.  Is this a historical account of an actual person called Jonah and what happened to him, or is it something else, something a little different from that?  Of course, there are those who think this to be a description of actual events just how they happened.  That may be so, though I am inclined to think it not to be the case.  In the end I don’t think the question matters.  I think this book, as the whole Bible, is about ultimate truths – and it is the ultimacy of the truths that matters.  Of course, many accounts in the Bible record the story of actual historical events.  But there are other places where the language of poetry is used or where other ways are found to depict important truth.  One way in which that happens is through the parables that Jesus told.  Jesus is not telling stories of actual events when he offers a parable.  But he is telling stories of things that could well have been.  It might well have happened like this.  The important lesson is to be learned in any case.  Jesus is not, for example, talking about Mrs. A who lost a coin and went looking for it, then threw a party to celebrate when she found it.  But it is the sort of thing that could have happened – and did happen every day.  Lots of women lost coins – and then turned the house upside down looking for them – and were keen to share their joy when the lost object was found.  The same could be said of the good Samaritan, the prodigal son and so many more.  That’s what a parable is.  Some parables were more far-fetched than others, but they all made good and important points.  And if sometimes Jesus did use a story of an actual event that didn’t really add anything, nor did it take anything away. 
I think that Jonah is like a parable.  I think it probably didn’t happen just as it is told – but, in the end, what I really think is that it doesn’t matter whether it did or did not.  What matters is the truth that the story is intended to convey. 
We can understand a little more about that when we remember that for Jews for centuries the book of Jonah has been read on the Day of Atonement.  The Day of Atonement, or Yom Kippur, is the most solemn fast day in the Jewish liturgical year.  The message of Jonah, which is appointed to be read in the afternoon service, emphasises so many of the great lessons of Yom Kippur.  It is impossible to run away from God’s presence.  God takes pity on all his creatures.  God is always willing to accept true repentance.  Still today, Yom Kippur marks the time when Jewish people come in penitence before God and seek restoration with the human community, not just the immediate circle of family, friends and colleagues, but also the wider human community of peoples and nations.  It is also a reminder of the possibility of God’s forgiveness, a possibility which Jonah experienced for himself, but then was unwilling to see applied to others. 
The Jewish teacher Jonathan Magonet identifies some of the lessons which he thinks the book of Jonah brings to the marking of Yom Kippur.  He says that the book of Jonah is a reminder that “fasting alone is not the essence of the day”.  Piety only works, if it is effected in action.  False piety is of no interest to God.  The response to Jonah’s vow to go now to Nineveh, having been spat up on the beach by the fish, can only be a reply from God something like: ‘Don’t give me your piety – perform my will.  Forget Jerusalem and go to Nineveh.’  This then links to a second key point – that the repentance of the Ninevites provides a context for the day.  As Magonet puts it – “That people can change and that God can forgive, are the hope upon which the dynamic of the Day depends.”  This again leads on to another point: “If pagan Nineveh can repent how much more should Israel, and how much greater the scandal if they do not.”  And one more point from Magonet in this context of his comments on Jonah with relation to Yom Kippur, which is a point that we, as Christians, might link to the Great Commission.  Magonet makes the point that Nineveh’s role in all of this is a challenge to Israel because it is a reminder of the wider concern and offering of the love of God.  Magonet writes as a Jew for Jews – but I think that we can learn from all of these points as Christians.
In the first chapter the story gets off to a quick start.  In just the first three verses Jonah is called by God.  He is told where to go and what to say.  He is given a task.  But he decides that he is not going to take this task on – and he takes fairly extreme steps to avoid it.  Before we say a little more about what is contained in these three verses, there are a couple of key questions raised that we would do well to reflect on.  The first of these is a question about whether we are always listening out for what God might want to say to us.  At least Jonah heard the call.  He is not so caught up in other things that it entirely passes him by.  He doesn’t respond as he should.  But he is listening to God.  Are we listening to God?  Are we listening out for anything that God might want to say to us?  The second question is about what we do when we receive a call from God.  It might be a call to do something big, as was the case for Jonah here.  It might be that it is something that we, and others, would regard as small.  None of that matters.  If it is God’s call, it is the right size.  The question is: are we ready to respond when God calls us?
In the first verse we are simply told that God’s call came to Jonah – the word of the Lord came to Jonah, son of Amittai.  The important thing is that this locates Jonah’s call in real time and in a real place.  I have earlier made reference to the view that the story is a parable, rather than a historical account, and I am not changing my mind on that.  But, even if we assume that the story is a parable, we still need to take it as it stands and allow God to speak to us through it.  Indeed, that is precisely the point of a parable.  Of course, the other point about this first verse is that it does present us with a bit of a mystery.  How did God’s call come to Jonah?  We are not told.  Was it through a dream?  That is often what happens in the Bible.  Was it a voice?  Was it a letter?  Was it a combination of circumstances?  Did God use a human agent?  We are not told.  All we know is that “God’s word to him was indeed powerfully real.  Jonah was called.  He was deeply disturbed by this and, as we shall see, unable to accept it.”[5]
We are not told exactly how Jonah was called, but we are told what he was called to do – that’s in verse 2.  Go to the great city of Nineveh; go and denounce it, for I am confronted by its wickedness.  This is a typical prophetic commission.  Jonah is to get up.  He is to go.  And he is to do.  It is interesting that Nineveh is actually described as ‘a great city’.  It is, of course, also described as being known for its wickedness. 
But how does Jonah respond?  He responds by putting as much distance as he can between himself and Nineveh.  Verse 3 – But to escape from the Lord Jonah set out for Tarshish.  He went down to Joppa, where he found a ship bound for Tarshish.  He paid the fare and went on board to travel with it to Tarshish out of the reach of the Lord.  The normal response to the prophetic call is to go where the call takes the prophet.  So what happens here is quite a surprise.  Jonah is not alone in having concerns about the implications of responding to God’s call.  That happens quite a lot.  But this deliberately evading God’s call is highly unusual.  There are other occasions when a prophet has delivered a message and then run for it, afraid of what the repercussions might be – but Jonah is unique in running away before he has even delivered his message.  “Here is something unprecedented: a prophet of Israel in rebellion against God.  While Moses, Amos and Jeremiah had been unable to resist the word and service of God, Jonah takes decisive steps to avoid it.”[6]  What God asks of Jonah is just too much and so he puts as much distance as he can between himself and the call of God.  In terms of geography he actually goes in the opposite direction – but what is far more significant is simply that he ensures that he is unable to engage with what God has asked him to do.  I can’t imagine that Jonah wanted to disobey God.  I don’t believe that this was a deliberate choice to do the wrong thing.  I suspect that Jonah simply wished that God had left him alone, that he had never heard this daunting call.  How he must have longed for God not to have spoken! 
Sometimes, when we are called by God, it is something exciting.  It is something that, given the chance, we would choose to do.  Often we can’t believe that God has chosen us to be his partner in something so fascinating.  We are glad to be called, and we are glad to respond.  But, other times, for all sorts of reasons, we do not feel able or ready to respond.  It may be that we feel not up to the task.  It may be that a particular calling seems too scary.  It may even be that God is asking of us something that we just don’t want to do.  Sometimes we can’t wait to respond to God’s call.  Other times we just wish it would go away.  But in all cases God’s call is God’s call – and we need to decide what we are going to do with it.  And, as we are considering our response, we should always remember that, no matter how a particular task may seem to us, God is the source of life and, in responding in the right way to God’s call, we will find life, life, as John’s Gospel puts it, in all its fulness. 
As one commentator puts it with reference to this story: “Jonah’s resistance to the ongoing call of God can readily be rationalized in human terms.  After all, it was a crazy call!  But, as Isaiah puts it, God’s thoughts are higher than our thoughts, and his ways higher than our ways.”[7]  God’s call to Jonah would take him way out of his comfort zone, but he needed to learn that God has a different, and bigger, perspective.  He also needed to learn that God doesn’t call anyone to do anything without giving the one who is called the needed resources to carry out the task.  Those are good lessons for us to learn too.
But Jonah is now en route for Tarshish, and most of the rest of the first chapter of Jonah deals with the account of this voyage – up to the point where Jonah leaves the trip by being, at his own request, thrown overboard.  All this is recorded in verses 4 to 16 of Jonah 1.
Jonah has responded to God by running off in the opposite direction from that in which God had asked him to go.  Now God responds to Jonah by sending a tremendous storm.  Verse 4 – the Lord let loose a hurricane on the sea, which rose so high that the ship threatened to break up in the storm.  At first glance it might seem as though this is something like God giving Jonah a smack on the wrist.  You think you can do what you like – well, I’ll show you.  But, if we pause to consider this a little more carefully, and particularly if we do so in the context of looking ahead to what comes next in the story – and we can’t help doing that because we know the story - then I think we can see something extremely helpful going on here.  It may not be the way we would do it.  Indeed, it is not a way in which we could do it – but here we have God gently – or should we saying rigorously – calling a halt to the prophet’s flight.  This is part of God helping Jonah to get things right. 
I don’t believe that God ever wants to hurt us.  But I do believe that God is with us in everything that happens to us – and I do believe that God can bring good things out of bad.  It doesn’t take the bad away, but it does, at least, allow for something positive to emerge from those situations in which we struggle. 
One thing that I do think is interesting is that, while all this is going on, Jonah is asleep.  Verse 5 – the sailors were terror-stricken; everyone cried out to his own god for help, and they threw things overboard to lighten the ship.  Meanwhile Jonah, who had gone below deck, was lying there fast asleep.  The sailors are scared stiff.  They are doing all they can to save the ship.  The first thing to say here is that if these, presumably experienced, sailors are terrified, then we may presume that there is something to be scared about.  They are the experts.  They would be used to storms at sea.  If this one scares even them, it is something to worry about.  The second thing is that it was their job to sail the ship – so it is not unreasonable to expect them to be the ones doing all that could be done to keep the ship afloat.  But this is a case of all help being needed – and how anyone could sleep through this is a mystery.  We might think that Jonah’s conscience would be troubling him, but it certainly isn’t keeping him awake.  Anyhow, the sailors are doing what they can to save the ship and Jonah is asleep when the captain comes across him.  Verse 6 – when the captain came upon him he said, ‘What, fast asleep?  Get up and call to your god!  Perhaps he will spare a thought for us, and we shall not perish’.  Now what is perhaps most interesting here is the place that faith plays in this story.  There is a recognition that prayer can achieve things.  “The captain, who is not an Israelite, is nonetheless a man of piety.  When he finds Jonah sleeping, his first action is not to punish him, nor even to ask him to help throw cargo overboard, but to ask him to pray.  ... He assumes that Jonah worships some god and also that calling upon that god will help in this acute situation.”[8]
One thing that we might say in passing here is that God needs his people to be awake.  If faith is asleep, then it is not doing what it should.  We need to be on the lookout for what God wants of us.
The story now moves on to the establishing of Jonah as the cause of the storm, the suggestion by Jonah that he should be thrown overboard, the reluctance of the captain to comply with Jonah’s suggestion – after all, good captains don’t throw their passengers overboard, no matter how bad conditions get – the eventual compliance with Jonah’s request and the amazing immediate quietening of the storm. 
In verse 7 there is the casting of lots to determine who is responsible for the predicament in which they find themselves – The sailors said among themselves, ‘Let us cast lots to find who is to blame for our misfortune.’  They cast lots, and when Jonah was singled out ...  The casting of lots was a normal procedure when a process of discernment was needed.  There are a number of references in the Bible to this as a means of determining a course of action, not least, of course, that this was how the successor to Judas Iscariot was chosen to join the disciple group.  The other thing here is that the sailors clearly believed that someone was responsible for the storm by having displeased their god - and so it proved to be.  The lot falls on Jonah and the sailors immediately start throwing questions at Jonah.  However, we ought to note the reasonableness of these sailors here.  Of course, they wanted to understand what was going on and so they started questioning Jonah.  But notice that they didn’t just grab him and throw him overboard.  Rather they question him so that they can understand.  Essentially they ask him four questions: What is your business?  Where do you come from?  Which is your country?  What is your nationality?  These questions are important.  The answer will bring an explantion to the sailors and will satisfy their curiosity but, more significantly, it will bring Jonah to the point of facing up to reality.  He can’t just shut himself away.  He can’t just ignore others.  As one of the commentators on this book says: “In his sleeping Jonah had spoken volumes!  He did not want anyone to know who he was.  The strength of his desire to remain unknown was greater than his willingness to show solidarity with the suffering of others.  The sailors’ questions were critical in leading to Jonah’s identity being made known.  In challenging him, the sailors also aided his own self-recognition.  At last Jonah is on the road to acknowledging his identity, of owning who he is.  In this acknowledgment he can begin to accept responsibility; he learns that what he does, as well as what he does not do, affects the well-being of others.”[9]
And so he answers, verse 9 – I am a Hebrew, and I worship the Lord the God of heaven, who made both sea and dry land.  This is the first time in the story that Jonah speaks – and he speaks of God.  His comment indicates that he has a mastery of the essentials of his faith.[10]  He has actually only answered one of the four questions that the sailors asked, but he has said all that matters.  They didn’t ask him about his faith – but he has told them.  They immediately realise that this is to do with faith.  This is to do with his response to God.  And so they ask him, firstly, what he has done.  That’s verse 10 – At this the sailors were even more afraid.  ‘What is this you have done?’ they said, because they knew he was trying to escape from the Lord, for he had told them.  And then, secondly, they ask him what they need to do.  That’s verse 11 – ‘What must we do with you to make the sea calm for us?’  It is interesting how the sailors keep the initiative.  “They were clear that the storm which threatened their lives was related to a fearful lack of seriousness in Jonah’s religious belief.”[11]  They ask him what they need to do.  This is now the seventh question that has been put to Jonah since he has been woken up.  First, the captain had asked him what he was doing sleeping.  Then there were the four questions after the lot had fallen on him.  The sixth question was the one about what he had done.  And now, and seventhly, he is asked what they need to do. 
Can you imagine how Jonah must have felt?  Put yourself in his shoes for a moment.  How God’s call had turned his life upside down – even though he hadn’t responded positively to it.  And now he has to speak again.  And so Jonah makes his second comment of the story.  It’s in verse 12 – ‘Pick me up and throw me overboard; then the sea will go down.  I know it is my fault that this great storm has struck you.  So Jonah “finally opts for the lives of others rather than his own.”[12]  But, as we have already noted, professional sailors don’t normally respond to bad weather by throwing their fare-paying passengers overboard.  So, in the first instance, they don’t take Jonah at his word.  They make one final attempt to get clear of the storm.  Verse 13 – though the crew rowed hard to put back to land it was no use, for the sea was running higher and higher. 
So they pray to God – verse 14 – Do not let us perish, Lord.  How interesting that these sailors address God before Jonah gets round to doing that though, in fairness, it is Jonah who has pointed them in the right direction.  But perhaps the crucial thing here is the recognition that prayer is what is needed and so “if Jonah, the insider who has experienced a direct word from the Lord, will not cry out to his God, then the sailors, the outsiders, will, and they do.”[13] 
Then, they do what Jonah has suggested.  They throw him overboard.  The storm abates – and the sailors worship God.  The sailors have been told to throw Jonah into the sea and their obedience transforms the situation.  The fantastic happens.  The storm abates.  What was true then and there remains true for us, namely that God is a transforming God.  The sailors are in a very different situation.  They, as it were, sail off in to the sunset – because they have no further part in our story.  Jonah is also in a very different situation.  If we didn’t know the story we might think we were finished with Jonah.  Surely this is the end for him.  But, of course, it isn’t.  God has plenty more in store with Jonah – and this is not the end of this particular story or this particular journey.


[1] Paula Gooder
[2] Jacques Ellul
[3] Rosemary Nixon
[4] Richard Henderson
[5] Rosemary Nixon, p. 56.
[6] Rosemary Nixon, p. 68
[7] Rosemary Nixon, p. 74/5
[8] James Limburg, p. 51
[9] Rosemary Nixon, p. 95
[10] James Limburg, p. 54
[11] Rosemary Nixon, p. 109
[12] Rosemary Nixon, p.112
[13] James Limburg, p. 56

Sunday, 28 November 2010

Parable of the Trees - Judges 9:8-15

We come to look at a parable, the parable of the trees. Most likely, when we talk about parables, our thoughts immediately go to the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, the yeast, the pearl, the sower etc. etc. – all those stories that Jesus told that provide so much of how we understand our faith. And, of course, that’s what parables do – they enrich our understanding. They help ius to translate the great concepts of faith into practical action. One very brief definition that may help is to describe a parable as “an earthly story that speaks beyond itself.”

Many would say that Jesus’ parables are unique, and I am inclined to agree. There is certainly something very special about them. However, that does not mean that this particular mode of communication is not used elsewhere. There are a number of parables scattered through the Old Testament and, though Judges is perhaps not the first place we would look, here is one.
But let’s first, as we so often helpfully do with the parables of Jesus, set the context. The nation of Israel had spent forty years wandering through the wilderness, after fleeing from the oppressive Egyptian regime. Finally Joshua had led them into the promised land – and the book of Judges gives us some of the story of what happened in that early period in the land of Canaan before the establishment of the monarchy. The stories of this particular Old Testament book describe the exploits of a succession of national heroes who were called ‘judges’. The title does not really refer to a judge in the legal kind of context that we might expect and, actually and ironically, this was a fairly lawless period. In fact, to a large extent, these were military leaders. Interestingly, women could gain prominence at that time, as Deborah is one of these judges. She appears fairly early in the book – chapters 4 and 5. Another prominent – and colourful – character is Samson – in chapters 13, 14 and 15.

One of the most famous is Gideon – and his story is told in chapters 6, 7 and 8. On the whole Gideon has quite a good reputation for his faith in God, but what is less known and recognised is what happened at the end of his life. The people tried to make Gideon their king, but he refused. But what he did do was allow them to make a massive idol which became a focal point of worship and, after his death, the people further developed the worship of idols.

Gideon had seventy sons, one of whom was Abimelech. His mother was one of Gideon’s concubines, and she was from Shechem. After Gideon’s death Abimelech and his mother went to Shechem and conspired with the people there to have Abimelech declared as king. After all, he was one of them – and that was achieved by the killing of all his brothers – except that one, the youngest, managed to escape.

When Jotham heard what had happened as the follow-up to the mass murder, namely that Abimelech had been made king, he went to a prominent location, Mouth Gerizim, and told this parable. This is a significant location for this action. Deuteronomy 27 records the command of Moses that, when the people have entered the Promised Land, some are to climb Mount Gerizim from where blessings for obedience are to be pronounced. Others are to climb Mount Ebal – and from there curses on disobedience will be pronounced. In many ways Jotham’s story stands in the classic prophetic tradition of condemning the people’s unfaithfulness. But he chooses Gerizim, not Ebal.

Perhaps the location is designed to emphasise that Jotham is leaving the judgment of the people’s actions to God. That fits, I think, with the ethos of the book. E. John Hamlin, in the introduction to his commentary on Judges, suggests; “The Promised Land in Judges is neither heaven nor haven. It is the God-given arena where the gifts of freedom and security are constantly threatened both from without and from within and are preserved or lost by real people. God is seen to be present behind the scenes as Judge and Saviour.”

The parable, like all good parables, is a fairly simple story though is at variance from most parables in that it features talking trees. This, then, is not something that would actually have happened – but there is no great difficulty in exploring the lessons of the story. In short, the trees are looking for a king. They approach three fruit-bearing trees, the olive tree, the fig tree and the vine. They ask each of them, in turn, to become king. These are surely the trees with the best qualifications. They each make significant contribution to the enjoyment on life. Their credentials are thus impeccable. But they each feel that what they are doing at the moment is enough, and more than that even, it is the right thing. What leave my rich oil by which gods and men are honoured, to go and hold sway over the trees? .... What, leave my good fruit and all its sweetness, to go and hold sway over the trees? .... What, leave my new wine which gladdens gods and men, to go and hold sway over the trees?

And so the trees need to look elsewhere – and they do. They look to the thorn bush. It is clear that the thorn bush would not have been considered if the others had not refused first. The thorn bush is surprised at the approach. It surely knows both that it is unsuitable and that it is the last resort. But it also sees an opportunity. If you really mean to anoint me as your king, then come under the protection of my shadow; if not, fire will come out of the thorn and burn up the cedars of Lebanon. Here effectively the thorn bush boasts of what it cannot offer. It has no fruit to contribute to life – and getting in its shade is not likely to be a pleasant business. You really need to prostrate yourself on the ground to get low enough and shade comes at the price of getting scratched. There is also a threat. The thorn bush burns easily. If it needs to destroy to keep its place, then it will. The moral, as one commentary suggests, is that: “foolish and wicked people will boldly usurp positions of power and influence that wise and good people tend to avoid.”

There are perhaps three things to draw from the story.

Abimelech, the thorn bush in the parable, was the wrong person to be king. Corruption destroys what’s good. In choosing the thorn bush, the other trees were setting themselves up to be destroyed.

Secondly, the men of Shechem didn’t act in good faith and honour. Rather they were out for themselves. They acted out of clan pride, very much ignoring what God had done through Gideon.

The result of their desertion of the covenant was the initiating of a cycle of destruction.
But the more important question for us is what does this mean for us?

I am grateful to Stephen Cottrell for pointing me in the direction of this parable which he quotes at the beginning of his little book “Hit the ground kneeling”. At the end of the book he revisits the parable – and asks some questions.

What does it mean? What does it tell you about the vocation to lead and the inter-relatedness of different gifts and callings? What upside-down wisdom does it point to? How does it help shape your vocation to lead?

Friday, 6 August 2010

Needing Change - Isaiah 1:10-20

Jerusalem, your rulers and your people are like Sodom and Gomorrah. So reads Isaiah 1, verse 10. I can’t imagine you being too impressed or enthused if I were to begin this post in a similar vein – Readers, your rulers and your people are like Sodom and Gomorrah.

The problem, of course, is in what Sodom and Gomorrah stand for. To use the Biblical word, they stand for sin – for wrong, for bad, for evil. It is certainly an attention-grabbing headline. And I think that is why the prophet uses it. Of course, there are things wrong in what the people do, how they behave. That is true for all of us. But, of course, it is not the whole of the story that the prophet tells. He grabs the people’s attention in this way. But he then goes on to challenge them about how they are living. And, yes, he does say some more about what they are doing that they shouldn’t. But he also offers them some very positive encouragement.

Indeed, he immediately goes on to say: Listen to what the Lord is saying to you. Pay attention to what our God is teaching you. And whether we need the blunt challenge of the initial words of this passage or not, we certainly need the encouraging challenge that comes here. I fear that too often we are too noisy and too busy to hear what God is saying to us. And yet that we should listen to God is a recurrent Biblical theme.

The Bible is packed with stories of how people needed to listen to God and what happened when they did. If we just restrict ourselves to mentioning some of those where this is most explicitly stated, we might mention, for example, the story of Samuel’s call. Samuel, asleep at night, keeps hearing this voice and running off to the old priest, Eli, thinking he is the one who is calling him – until, eventually, Eli realises what is going on and tells Samuel that, if it happens again, he should answer: Speak, Lord, your servant is lisrening. Take another example. What is it that Jesus says at the end of the parable of the sower? Listen, then, if you have ears! And one more example. When John records the messages to the seven churches of the province of Asia in chapters 2 and 3 of Revelation, at the end of each of these individual messages comes the exhortation: If you have ears, then, listen to what the Spirit says to the churches!

Listening isn’t always easy. But how important it is that we listen for what God is saying to us. We need also to listen to each other, and we don’t always do that, but we certainly need to listen to God.

But let me link this in to our passage from Isaiah. We have considered how the passage exhorts us to listen for what God is saying. It goes on, in verses 11 to 15, to condemn what might be described as the sham worship of the people. This is very similar to some comments that Amos makes in a passage that, I think, is much better known. Amos 5, verses 21 to 23 – The Lord says, “I hate your religious festivals; I cannot stand them! When you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them; I will not accept the animals you have fattened to bring me as offerings. Stop your noisy songs; I do not want to listen to your harps.

Now, at first sight, whether we take the Amos version or the Isaiah version, this all seems rather strange. Why is God offering this response? Surely God should love our religious festivals, not hate them. And, of course, God does – providing they are not hiding stuff. The problem that both these prophets were facing is that the people were coming along and, on the face of it, doing the right thing in church, or the temple, as it was in their case. But their worship was not reflective of the rest of their lives. As Isaisah puts it, in verse 15, God won’t listen to their prayers because their hands are covered with blood. That’s why he addresses them as Sodom and Gomorrah to begin with. It’s a strong condemnation. “It is difficult to imagine a more massive rejection of God’s people on God’s part than this.”[1] The prophet asserts that God is finished with the people and their activities in the temple.

Only that’s not the end of the story. And this is where Gospel comes in, and we are back to talking about something that is a recurrent theme in the Bible. There is always hope. God is God of hope. Noah faced utter devastation, but there was a way through. The accusers of the woman caught in adultery all gradually realised that they couldn’t be the ones to condemn – and Jesus didn’t condemn her either..

The possibility of transformation and how it might happen is outlined in verse 17 – Learn to do right. See that justice is done – help those who are oppressed, give orphans their rights and defend widows. Amos declares the same transforming possibility – Instead, let justice flow like a stream, and righteousness like a river that never goes dry. A restored relationship with God requires a change of action, but it is all very possible.

Isaiah uses a powerful colour contrast to emphasise this possibility – The Lord says, “Now let’s settle the matter. You are stained red with sin, but I will wash you as clean as snow. Although your stains are deep red, you will be as white as wool. In a sense, this is the summary. What is going to happen? Change is needed. Change is possible. But it doesn’t happen without some commitment and some effort. God has taken the initiative. We can’t work the transformation. We need God for thar. But it’s there for the taking. God invites us, as he has always invited his people, to receive the blessings of that new thing which the needed change will bring. But it’s not dumped on us. We need to be ready and willing to receive it.

[1] Walter Brueggemann, Isaiah 1 - 39, Westminster John Knox Press, 1998, p. 18.

Tuesday, 8 June 2010

Acts 6:1-7

Lesslie Newbigin once said: “The nature of the Church is never to be finally defined in static terms, but only in terms of that to which it is going.” In other words we, in the Church, should not be standing still. We need to be on the move. We need to be tackling the next thing. That may seem daunting and, actually, it is. But God is not in the business of putting obstacles in our way. And God doesn’t call us to do things that are too much for us. Well, actually, possibly he does but, if so, he gives us the resources we need to do that to which we are called. Let’s put it another way. We often talk of our faith as a journey – and that’s a good image. If we’re on a journey, we’re on the move. We might be going slowly. We might be going at high speed. There is a whole range of forms of transport that we might be using. There are lots of signposts and refreshment stops on the way. But the journey is constantly moving us on.

Let’s take a look at this from a New Testament perspective. I often think it would be fascinating to be part of the early church with all the excitement and enthusiasm of those days of launching the gospel mesage in so many places and so many ways – and I am sure it would. But it is also possible to have an idealised picture of the early church and to think that all was always well – when actually the New Testament evidence is that there were plenty of problems and disagreements even in those early days of the church. A good chunk of the New Testament’s letters is directed to addressing those situations where things were not quite as they ought to be.

At the beginning of Acts 6 we read of what was probably one of the first instances of church conflict. If we have been following the story of the early church as it appears in Acts everything, so far, has been going pretty well. There have been one or two problems, but they are not internal ones. After the event of Pentecost and the sermon preached by Peter in Acts 2, we have, in Acts 3, the story of the lame man being healed, and that’s followed by another sermon from Peter. In Acts 4 Peter and John are arrested and brought before the Council – but they seem to be quite able to defend themselves and are set free. In Acts 5 we have the Ananias and Sapphira story – not good news for this couple who misled the church, but something that is quickly moved on from. And all seems to be going very well. Acts 5:12 – Many miracles and wonders were being performed among the people by the apostles. In the latter part of Acts 5 they are arrested again, and set free again – and seem to be simply using these occasions as opportunities for proclaiming the gospel.

But then, at the beginning of chapter 6, we come to the moment when things start to go wrong. Well, actually, perhaps it is not entirely fair to put it like that. We come to the point where a particular issue comes to the fore that needs to be addressed.

One interesting thing is that we don’t know when this was. We don’t know how quickly the church got to this point because we are not given a timescale for these events in the early chapters of Acts. However, it seems reasonable to assume that this all happened quite quickly and that we are still in the first year of the church’s life post-Pentecost.

So what happened? Well, we are told that there was a quarrel, a dispute. We’re told that it was between the Greek-speakers, or Hellenists, and the Hebrew speakers. And we are told that it was about suppport for the widows which, given the structures and practices of society at that time, is something that would have a big impact on the lives of those involved.

Now I want to suggest that the key thing here is not that there was a dispute, though that does happen to be part of this story – but that there was a problem that needed to be addressed. That problem, like most problems, had a range of aspects – and there are two things, in particular, that we need to note about it. One is the presenting problem which is that some widows weren’t being properly looked after.

But the other aspect is the need to discover what lay behind the presenting problem. Presenting problems, the things on the surface, are always important and need to be addressed. However, we often do a much bigger and better thing if we look at what has caused them – because if we get to underlying roots we may well prevent other, and new, presenting problems from emerging. Whether that would have happened in this case we don’t know, because the story doesn’t go in that direction.

What we do know is that the apostles, the twelve, were very ready to listen to what the people had to say. They were ready to say that there was a problem, even though that meant accepting that they had got things wrong. And they looked for a remedy.

Now there are some intersting things about this remedy. The actual remedy, of course, was that they found seven people to be put in charge of this matter. One of the interesting things is that they looked for a different solution. They could see that they needed to do something new in order to address this situation. Another thing is that they were willing to share their power and responsibility. They didn’t just carve things up among themselves, so that one of them took this on. They recognised that they needed to do it a different way, and that they needed additional help. Another thing is that there is a clear recognition here that different types of service are needed and to be valued. And, of course, one of the fundamental things in this story is the readiness to give everyone a voice.

Just to dip deeper into the story, without looking so specifically at its lessons for a moment, it is fascinating to note what it suggests. There are clear indications in Acts of the rapid growth of the early church. Indeed, verse 7 says the number of disciples in Jerusalem grew larger and larger. It seems pretty clear that the church was already reaching out in a range of ways. The church had started within the Jewish context, but now it is beginning to reach different groups. These Greek-speakers were Jews, but why are they so identified? Why are they contrasted with the Hebrew-speaking Jews? Well, Greek was the international language of the day. If you had been, and lived, away from Jerusalem and Israel, you may well have Greek as your first language. Also, if that were so, you would probably be coming from a different cultural context. This little incident is an indication that Christianity was moving into different groups. At this point, too, the believers would be largely meeting in homes. No doubt there was a bit of mixing up in that, but one can imagine that a house church was largely composed of a group that came from one particular background. One suggestion is that there were seven Hellenist house churches in Jerusalem at this point and the seven chosen helpers were the leaders of these. If so, this was certainly a good way of engaging these key people in the overall leadership of the church in Jerusalem.

But here is a story in which the church leaders gathered the whole congregation together in order to explore a particular issue. It is a story in which the church leadership recognised that it is important to hear what everyone had to say. It is a story which looks for justice. Mission and justice are closely linked. It is a story in which it is recognised that different people make different contributions, and we need that and they are all valuable. It is a story in which they looked for a new and different solution.

But there is, at least, one more thing I want to say.

This is also a story which is just a step on the way. Moving on from here, things would change again, and again, and again. And, of course, that happens quite quickly. Look, one more time, at the story. If we look at what happened we can see that the twelve were quite clear that the responsibility of these seven was handling the finances. This was so they wouldn’t need to, but they, on the other hand, would devote themselves to prayer and preaching. But then, look at the list of seven names. First, on the list is Stephen and second on the list is Philip. And we have only got to move into chapter 7 to find Stephen, not handling finance, but preaching, and powerfully so. And later on, in chapter 8, who takes the gospel to Samaria? Philip. And who engages with the Ethiopian official? Philip.

Remember those words of Lesslie Newbigin – “The nature of the Church is never to be fully defined in static terms, but only in terms of that to which it is going.” Or, as one commentator on this passage puts it: “The story in Acts is that of a Spirit who is constantly calling the Church to a new obedience in such a way that, although we can learn from the obedience of times past, we cannot limit ourselves to it. What would have happened to the Church if Stephen and Philip had said, “No, our ministry has to do with (finances), and not with preaching.”

Friday, 2 October 2009

Valuing Samaritans and Others - Luke 10:25-37

The Samaritan in Luke 10 is a man not valued or respected in his society. You will notice that the expert in the law couldn’t even bring himself to name the Samaritan as the one who had been a good neighbour. He takes the roundabout route of answering Jesus’ question on that matter by saying that it was the one who had mercy on him. The Samaritan was not valued – and yet he gave freely to a stranger.

It is actually interesting to note that this whole story was about people who would be looked down on by the man who asked the question. He was an expert in the law. That’s what we’re told about him. Now, I actually find it fascinating that Jesus, who usually tried to connect so well with people, answers this man’s question with a story about a bunch of characters who he would have had no time for. If we look carefully, there are six characters, or groups of characters, in the story. Three play active roles and three really are in the background. If ever we have acted this out in Junior Church, Sunday School or whatever, and probably many of us have, then we probably have started with the robbers attacking the man and have seen that as the most active bit. In terms of dramatic action that might be so. However, in terms of the story it’s not. That is just background, context. The three active characters are those who come across the wounded man, the priest, the Levite and the Samaritan. Now the point is that this man was an expert in the law. We’re not actually told that he was a Pharisee, though that was the role that the Pharisees usually adopted. Certainly, if he wasn’t, as an expert in the law, he would have been alongside them. The priest and the Levite were part of the religious set-up, and we might imagine that this expert in the law, Pharisee or not, would align himself with them also. The priest and the Levite were associated with the temple – and, in fact, the Pharisees were often in tension with the temple and its cult. They concentrated on a very careful interpretation of the law, the torah, and weren’t much interested in anything that wasn’t focussed there. They looked for such a high standard that no one else could really get alongside them.

And, of course, the Samaritan would be really beyond the pale. Apart from the problems caused by his ethnicity, he was, most likely, like the wounded man, a trader. After all, why else would either of them be travelling that road? And traders weren’t up to much either. They were notoriously dishonest – and their itinerant lifestyle made it virtually impossible for them to observe appropriate standards of purity and hygiene.

Innkeepers were another despised group. Their whole lives and livelihoods centred around places where transients could find accommodation. Remember that, in the context of the times, the only people who would stay at an inn would be those who had no family in the area and no social or economic claims on anyone’s hospitality. They were needed, but it was very much a last resort.

And that only leaves the robbers. Again it is interesting to dig just very slightly into the context. In first century Palestine these probably would not have been simple muggers or highwaymen, but rather some of the roving terrorists staging their own form of protest against various types of official and unofficial exploitation of the poor. Strangely, this may even have been the one group in the parable that some of Jesus’ audience might have had some sympathy with. Maybe some of them had even done this Robin Hood type thing – setting on wealthy travellers in order to do a bit of unofficial redistribution of wealth.

But, even if there were some sympathetic to the robbers, it certainly wouldn’t include the lawyer who, doubtless, was a potential victim of such himself. So, in a sense, the story is not just about an unexpected neighbour – though that is a big element in it – but it is also about saying that everyone has a story, and that everyone has value.

Saturday, 26 September 2009

Learning from Nehemiah

Nehemiah plays a key role in the return of the Israelites to Jerusalem after the exile. His particular pioneer project is the rebuilding of the city walls. It seems an impossible project, but Nehemiah is convinced that it is the task to which he is called. He is fortunate enough to have friends in high places and so he goes and gains permission from the king. He then encourages and challenges others to get on with the job. It is a big task and there clearly is careful planning, and also hard work. He divides those who are working with him into teams giving them specific chunks – and so divides the task down into smaller achievable tasks. He is pretty single-minded. He endures ridicule. And he achieves what he sets out to do.

Nehemiah was an inspiring leader and he got those engaged in the wall rebuilding project to achieve what many would have long given up as impossible. Raymond Brown (in “The Message of Nehemiah” BST) suggests nine features of the task undertaken by these builders:
- Their priority – they worked out what they were going to do first, and so on.
- Their unity – people from a wide variety of backgrounds worked on the wall.
- Their individuality – they worked together, but brought their differences to the project.
- Their disappointment – it didn’t always go well.
- Their commitment – there was a lot of sacrificial giving.
- Their enthusiasm – they didn’t just start this project, they kept at it.
- Their privilege – they didn’t regard it as a gruelling chore, but as a priceless opportunity.
- Their reward – they got there.
What are the questions that arise from the story of Nehemiah? Perhaps some of them are these:

- What is the real aim, the mission statement?
- What’s going to happen if/when it doesn’t go well?
- How is the project an opportunity?
- What’s the end aim?
- How does it bring a range of people on board?