+Z’ev

Today’s assigned readings:
Genesis 41:14-45, Romans 6:3-14, John 5:19-24

It is as I told Pharaoh; God has shown to Pharaoh what he is about to do. There will come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt. After them there will arise seven years of famine, and all the plenty will be forgotten in the land of Egypt; the famine will consume the land. The plenty will no longer be known in the land because of the famine that will follow, for it will be very grievous.
Genesis 41:28-31

One thing that strikes me - over and over - about the prelude to the Exodus story (from Joseph’s slavery onward) is that everyone is sure God is acting, but no one knows why.

Later Joseph will be quite certain that God (and not Joseph’s brothers) brought Joseph to Egypt in order to save Jacob and his family. After that, however, when slavery has set in, it looks rather different. After that, however, when the Exodus comes, the entire picture changes again. Did God cause the famine in order to drive Jacob to Egypt exactly so that the people of Israel would be enslaved exactly so that God could rescue them with the Passover? Was all this planned from the very beginning?

Or does it just look that way?

Walking with my (then) housemate, Dan, along the West Side Highway in NYC, we ran into my friend Alex, coming from the other direction. We had a fun day that, ultimately, resulted in me getting a tattoo. Later that week, I wrote a story about all the things that had to happen in order to bring Alex into contact with Dan and I at that moment. Ultimately I was able to pin it on the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt: because Dan was Jewish.

In hindsight, everything is, really, 20/20.

Until the next thing happens.

And Alex commits suicide, and I’m left standing on a ladder in Borders Books (San Francisco) crying because I saw the Tattoo he gave me, wondering why there was nothing I could do about his sadness.

And for a while, everything seems clear until the next thing happens.

I recently picked up my entire life and moved to Buffalo, NY, in order to be closer to Brodie, my intended. Right now it all looks like chaos - and although I have the temerity to make plans for the future. Hindsight is 20/20 until the next thing happens.

I think that’s the way its supposed to be.

But does that mean that Joseph was right?
Or is saying “look what God has done” just a way to make sense out of things?

When I look at my life and say “look what God has done” is that just a way to bless what a mess I’ve made?

When the Telegraph was invented, it is said that the first message sent along the wires by Samuel F. B. Morse from Washington to Baltimore was “What hath God wrought?” (24 May 1844) Why blame God for this thing that, ultimately, has allowed me to post these messages on the internet for you to read? There is no way Morse could have guessed where his technology would lead: but I can now find you, via Google Maps, and, given the right access, I can get to most of you via CCTV. Most of you can find me on the internet or even via web cam. Is this a case of “What hath God wrought?” or more like “Look what we did?”

Is blaming God for the telegraph just a way to pin the blame on him for porn sites and identity theft?

An a couple of Generations, how will the Egyptians feel about magically knowing all about the famine? We’ll see.

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:
Isaiah 19:19-25, Romans 15:5-13, Luke 19:11-27

But the citizens of his country hated him and sent a delegation after him, saying, “We do not want this man to rule over us.”
Luke 19:14

The Wiki says: A similar parable, called The Parable of the Minas or The Parable of the Pounds is found in the Gospel of Luke 19:12-27, the main difference being that the master entrusted his servants with equal amounts, and that a mina was of much less value than a talent. And I did notice that, yes. It is curious that there are ten people each given one “Mina” or “pound” as the NRSV says. It is also curious that of the ten, only three report - and their reports are the same as found in the Matthew text. Nothing but stylistic differences there.

I was, however, intrigued by the two verses that have to do with these citizens who “do not want this man” as their king.

The response to them comes in verse 27: “But as for these enemies of mine who did not want me to be king over them—bring them here and slaughter them in my presence.”

Shudder.

It would be easy for us to get into a discussion of “these enemies”. Does Jesus allow himself to have enemies? Does Jesus ever seem the sort to have people slaughtered in front of him - for his enjoyment, revenge or to induce fear in others? Is the Lukan Community suffering from a little anti-Semitism? Is this a story about Jesus “going away” after his Resurrection and coming back for judgement? (Btw: have you noticed that these last two weeks we’ve been getting Advent readings both in the daily office and in the Sunday Eucharist?) I think it would be easy and interesting to get into any of these questions about this parable. I don’t know if there are any comfortable answers to these questions.

But what about these Citizens? And how does any of this answer the supposition in verse 11 - “they supposed that the kingdom of God was to appear immediately”?

Although it’s hard for a Christian to sort out (because of my preconceived notions) this parable is formulated to answer the Jewish assumption that the Messiah-son-of-David would establish God’s Kingdom at that time and place. The coming of the Messiah will mean

• Ingathering of the Exiles of Israel • End to Evil and Sins • Awareness and Knowledge of G-d • Universal Worship of G-d • Universal Peace and Harmony • Resurrection of the Dead • Blissful Utopia: End to Disease and Death

To these, Jews today add “Restoration of the Bet Hamikdash (the Temple in Jerusalem)”

The as the Jewish argument (post-Easter) against Jesus developed, it seems to have always included the idea that if Jesus had been the Messiah, “he would have fulfilled the Messianic prophecies mentioned in Tanach. For instance, the Moshiach (Messiah) will bring about universal peace and tran quility: “And they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation; neither shall they learn war any more” (Isaiah 2:4). The Moshiach will bring about universal respect for G-d, and lead all people to follow His ways: “The knowledge of G-d will fill the earth. The world will be filled with the knowledge of G-d as the water covers the sea” (Isaiah 11:9). He will cause an ingathering of the Jewish exiles: “Then the residue of his brethren shall return with the children of Israel” (Micha 5:2) and will bring about the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdosh:. “In that day will I raise up the Tabernacles of David that is fallen” (Amos 9:11). He will also bring physical cure to all who are sick: “Then the eye of the blind will be opened, and the ears of the deaf will be unstopped. Then the lame man will leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb will sing” (Isaiah 35:5-6). Furthermore, he will accomplish these tasks within his own lifetime: “He shall not fail or be crushed until he has set the right in the earth” (Isaiah 42:4).”

The retelling of our parable in Today’s Gospel would seem to be an answer to them.

How?

What is the answer offered?

There are two parts: the first, the body of the parable, is the essence of Christian teaching on the subject. Do your work and pay no attention to anyone else. As St Paul says, “Work out your salvation…” “Run the race…”, “press on for the prize…”, etc. Worrying about what others are doing (or even worrying about what the King will say when he gets back) is not conducive at all. We are each called to our tasks and we need to get about them.

The second part of the answer is an application of this teaching: rather than do the work they were expected to do, the “Citizens of his country” decided they would complain about the package: we don’t want this man to rule over us”. Well, clearly, that had already been decided. So, instead of continuing to work out their salvation, they were complaining.

Once again it would be easy for us to get into a whole passel of questions about Christian anti-Semitism or Jewish understanding of Biblical Prophecy, but I don’t think that’s where we need to go.

Isaiah’s passage offers a vision of Israel, Egypt and Assyria all worshipping God. What Isaiah would have known as Assyria (by the 8th century BCE) would have included Iran and Iraq and much of the today’s Middle East (focusing towards the Mediterranean father than the Persian Gulf). I want to see Isaiah’s prophecy as looking beyond such a time. Until the Muslim Conquests of the northern Middle East, there were rich and vibrant Christian communities in what was the Northern Assyrian Empire, as well as in Egypt. And then Muslims to the area, then Christians again, then Muslims again. And they both live there now in uneasiness. And Israel in the middle: possibly Isaiah sees a time when Jews, Christians and Muslims might worship in peace, focusing on the one God that is Our Father in all three faith traditions - instead of focusing on each other’s differences (which leads us down the wrong road, as in Jesus’ Parable).

Paul says the Messiah will be a sign of hope to the Gentiles! My questions about theology lead me to wonder if it matters how the gentiles perceive him (as a prophet in Islam or as God’s Incarnation in Christianity) but we are united in Messiah to the Jewish people.

Or we can keep bickering with each other. If you want.

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:

AM: Isaiah 8:11-20, Romans 10:1-15
PM: Job 28:12-28, Matthew 13:44-52

S’pranikum! as the Russians say. A Joyous Feast!

Jesus said - “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.
“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.
“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad.”
Matthew 13:44-48

Today’s readings are three very different parables. I’ve left off the coda to the third one - I think verse 48 says it quite clearly. Walk with me through these…

1) The kingdom is like something you find - and in that finding you discover it is so valuable you give up everything for it.

The writer of Matthew would understand that greatly. Tradition says he was the Tax Collector, Levi, whom Jesus called to follow him. You know all about tax collectors. Jesus and his group are about the only folks in all of the Jewish people who will speak to these vile scum - workers for the government, collecting taxes for the pagans, siphoning off a good bit for themselves… Being as these guys were, themselves, Jewish they were considered traitors. Further, as a member of the Levite Tribe, Matthew should have been serving in the temple.

Matthew is the original Altar Boy Gone Bad.

But when he meets Jesus, he gives it all up. Erm, well… sorta. Don’t forget: the first thing he does is throw a party for all his friends to meet Jesus. And there’s no sign that Matthew was suffering from convertitis.

2) The kingdom is something that finds you…

I don’t know about you but every sermon I’ve heard on this parable talks about the pearl. Every sermon: Methodist, Orthodox, Roman, Episcopalian… There’s a reason for it, of course. The real meaning is too scary.

Look at the wiki page on this parable. The first line is: “The implied analogy was that the Kingdom of Heaven was of such worth that his disciples should gladly be willing to give up their wealth and comfort to obtain it.”

Bah!

The text says QUITE clearly - that the kingdom is like the merchant - not the pearl itself. Get that?!?! The kingdom is like a merchant… read it with me out of your Bibles: “…kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls…”

Even the Gospel of Thomas backs us up on this: “The Father’s kingdom is like a merchant who had a supply of merchandise and found a pearl. That merchant was prudent; he sold the merchandise and bought the single pearl for himself.” The kingdom is like the Merchant. Got it?

You, my dear reader, are the Pearl.

God gives up everything he has for you. Any of the Apostles would have understood this as well. They saw God give up everything - even his only Son - to come and find us.

Put those two parables together and we have an important synergy:

We give up everything for God. God gives up everything for us. It’s like falling head over heels in love with both parties simply gaga for each other.

Now move on to the third parable:

3) The kingdom is like a net that catches everyone…

There were some in the Early Church - and right on until today - seem to have been what I call semi-universalist: They were quite clear that God was roping in the entire world with this plan of his.

We give up everything for God. God gives up everything for us.
And EVERYONE gets caught in the net. Not just Jews, not just believers: everyone.

But what about free will?

The early Christians were equally clear that we could refuse to come to the party. I think Jesus’ parables include this mindset. The idea is that even some who get caught in the net just won’t fit.

Matthew’s Gospel is here encapsulated in three simple stories. The seeker must give up everything just like God does. But just hanging around with followers of Jesus is not enough. That first blush of romance is not enough to carry a relationship through - there is work to be done (be doers not just hearers, as James says).

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:

2 Samuel 13:1-22, Romans 15:1-13, John 3:22-36

We who are strong ought to put up with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Each of us must please our neighbor for the good purpose of building up the neighbor. For Christ did not please himself; but, as it is written, “The insults of those who insult you have fallen on me.”
Romans 15:1-3

This will develop, later in the text, into the idea of not making the weaker brothers and sisters stumble. This passage is important because it is what I think it means to be a Community in Christ: not to please ourselves. And this is the conflict that has carried us through two millennia, really. We are still fighting it out.

Here’s what Paul is dealing with:

There are two groups of believers in Jesus as Messiah - Gentiles and Jews.

One group - mostly Jews, but also some Gentiles who have been worshipping with Jews for some time - says in order to be really Christian you really must (1) be circumcised; (2) celebrate the Sabbath in the traditional way (not working, etc, from sunset to sunset); (3) celebrate the traditional Jewish Festivals; (4) avoid certain foods (pork, shrimp, etc); (4) follow the rest of the Jewish law (not wear linen and wool at the same time, women are unclean most of the time, etc). This group says to violate these rules is a sin.

The other group - mostly the newer Gentile converts - says there is no need to worry about such things - at all. Paul agrees with the second, more liberal group. But Paul wants both groups to live together.

At one time all who were in the Church believed that to be a Christian at all you had to be a Jew. No Gentiles were allowed. Then, eventually, they realised that Gentiles were invited into the fellowship, but how? Originally Gentiles had to first convert to Judaism: they had to be circumcised. Eventually that community of faith realised the grace of Christ didn’t need any help and decided not to make the Gentile converts stumble. But here Paul’s situation is different: the Gentiles and the Jews - both of whom are Christians - are fighting against each other.

You’re not really Christian because you don’t observe the Sabbath.
You’re not really Christian because you do observe the Sabbath.

How do you get these two to live together, not only without hurting each other, but while continuing to feed each other in Eucharistic fellowship?

Paul says “Each of us must please our neighbor for the good purpose of building up the neighbor.” That verse makes it clear, by the way, that concepts like “weaker brethren” are never first person concepts. I am not the weaker brother. You are. I can’t please myself: I must please my neighbour. This is where I get into a “stumble fight” with my Christian brothers and sisters for while I have - at times, including now - been clear about the justness of gay relationships before God, I’m also aware that they can cause weaker brothers and sisters to stumble.

Equally I’m aware of the political gesturing of those who use that stumbling as a weapon to shore up their own positions of political power. Peter Akinola comes to mind from the Anglican World, as do various American televangelists who use the Gay Card the same way that American (etc) politicians use the Race Card and the Victorian politicians used the Orange Card (from whence the phrase, “X card”, btw: Randolph Churchill’s “playing the orange card”). It’s a way of pulling out a hated group as a scare tactic to get those thus threatened to do what you want. American conservatives, especially, have even threatened those who might otherwise be progressive by playing the Gay Card and stirring up the masses with images of child molestation and S&M BBQs in their middle class back yards and even stirring people up with the fear that their own religions will be silenced.

How do I, a gay man trying to follow God in the way of Jesus, fit into that picture in a way that does not cause the weaker brothers to stumble?

Caveats:

I do think they are the weaker ones, in this respect, although I am weak too.
I do think they are mostly brothers, by the way, although there are some sisters, too.
I do think I can stumble too: I do, often.

For a while I thought the answer was to live in celibacy waiting for them to get their act together. That doesn’t seem to be the right answer because it only caters to them. For a while I thought the answer might be to find a way to live in a relationship that manifested the fruit of the Spirit (love, peace, joy, etc) but that doesn’t seem to be the right answer either - albeit for a very complex reason: Having assumed that gay people are “intrinsically disordered” (no matter what words a given community might officially use) they have decided that anything we think might be love isn’t “really” love. Anything “a gay” could offer that might be peace or joy isn’t “really” peace or joy. In fact, using a type of theological newspeak, they have decided that to show love, they must show us hate. In extremis, it’s “really” loving to tell me God hates me.

How does one live in the same community with such?

Paul says there is a reason, a real, deep and theological reason for trying to live in community with such: it is for their own salvation; “for the good purpose of building up the neighbor.” It’s not enough to just walk away, to leave them alone and stranded on their theological islands. It’s not enough to say, “Good bye, God bless, and don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

Ultimately the danger is that the community will split - schism - the greatest of sins is to fall out of communion.

It will not do for us to project our own understanding backwards. To those who worried about Sabbaths and Festivals and Circumcision, these things are desperately important. We can’t look back from 2,000 years and say, “Well, those things are not ‘really’ sins in the same way that sex is.” No: to those 1st century Jews-following-Jesus shrimp, Sabbath, circumcision and sex were all of equal. When they were fighting with Gentiles over circumcision it was just as important as we might imagine Trinity is today. It was the very definition of the community, of being, of the relationship with God. This was earthshaking heresy! Life or death stood on the choices here.

And Paul says they have stay in community. They must live together. Yet, it’s not because both understandings are equally right. Paul says in living together, in ministering to each other, the weaker folks will be built up into a stronger faith. Eventually they will come ’round.

I know Orthodox, Anglican and Roman clergy and laity who have a gay-friendly ministry. Within their own ecclesial communities they are moving the otherwise homophobic structures to a more open posture. In the Church Catholic there are clergy and laity who fall on either side of this question but the point is they can not part company: rather they must find ways to live together so that the weaker ones might get stronger.

How do we do that? Eh… I have no answer. I have no guts, myself, for fighting it out: and I know that’s not the answer. Although I tried it, I have no guts, either, for sequestering myself in a little island in the stream that is safe. That’s not the right answer. For a while I tried to throw myself into the “the other side” - where now I think some might feel bamboozled by my sudden showing of different colours. I think the same might be said of “the other other side”.

Open to suggestions…

Today’s assigned readings:

2 Samuel 6:12-23, Romans 4:7-12, John 1:43-51

Eve of the Transfiguration:
1 Kings 19:1-12, 2 Corinthians 3:1-9,18

Jesus answered, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.” And he said to him, “Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”
John 1:50-51

He said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.
1 Kings 19:11-12

First, a comment on the NRSV translation of 1 Kings 19:12 - we’re used to reading “still small voice” or some version thereof. The Hebrew could mean “the silent voice” or “the voice of silence”. In the Hebrew text one can be reminded of Simon and Garfunkle’s The Sound of Silence and I fear that, perhaps, that’s where the translation committee found its phrase. They are not alone, however, in the lack of a voice: the (very conservative) Douay-Rheimes version says “a whistling of a gentle air” and the LXX says “sound of a gentle breeze”. It appears it is the KJV (et al) who add the voice in…

A bridge fell down this week. Many are dead in Iraq, many are dead elsewhere around the world. We look for the hand of God to explain these actions: and we ask, “How Could You Allow This!?!?!?”

And there is nothing in response but the sound of silence.

I love emotional religious experiences: dancing, laughing, weeping (my favourite!). I’m swept up into awe-filled wonder during Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor - especially played in a large, acoustic space. I love to get swept up into mob scenes, like Harry Potter (major disappointment) or the Triumphant Parades that followed the Mets’ World Series victory in the 1980s. I love loud music and the emotions it can stir. I love making out to thumping base techno. I love to weep to the final movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.

But where I honestly turn to God, there is nothing in response but the sound of silence.

Jesus is amused at Nathan’s response to his (Jesus’) powers of soul discernment - and Jesus promises some fabulous visions. And the disciples saw the dead rising, the blind sighted, the deaf hearing and the lame leaping.

But in the end, there was only the sound of silence… and corpse on a cross… an empty tomb.

One of the things hardest for me to do is sit in Zen silence: my mind fights, demanding to say something. But in the end, God is in the Sound of Silence and when I can still my mind - chanting a mantra like the Jesus prayer, the Ave Maria or just by breathing - that still mind becomes tuned to God. It’s not the still small voice - as one might think of a child’s prayer - but rather the sound of silence.

So much of our religions are dedicated to words. I love words! I have prayer books and chant tapes from several different traditions. I’ve used prayer books from Judaism, Catholicism, Orthodoxy, Methodism and Anglicanism. I’ve written a Wiccan prayer book. I invented a series of magical invocations based on the works of Aleister Crowley. The Gnostic Order in which I was ordained is perhaps the most-attuned to words - its liturgies being as verbose as a book by J. K. Rowling. Perhaps most evidently, I love words so much that I have two blogs. Icons are referred to as “written”; a simple mistranslation of the Greek word for “paint”, but it highlights our attachment to words. There are lectures and talks, podcasts, internet radio. You’ll even hear modern teachers insist that the Jesus prayer or the Ave Maria isn’t a “mantra” but “really a prayer” as if there were a difference. We are so hung up on words that we can miss the Word: Jesus, himself, love incarnate. He is the only thing said in the sound of silence.

We might see great things, but we will hear nothing.

Much love,

Huw