God is more than two men and a bird

(I've yet to find an accurate, undisputed credit for the title of this blog entry - I think it was a Catholic)

A stranger once phoned and asked for an appointment to see me. She wanted to discuss a matter of some urgency. At the appointed time, she arrived and, after some small talk, she got down to business: “The Spirit has told me that you and I are to be married.”

I didn’t deal with that very well…

Unfortunately, passages like John 15:26 - 16:15 - the lectionary reading for this Sunday - lend themselves to this kind of interpretation. Read William Loader’s comments about this passage to learn a little of where John was coming from. William makes the point that verse 14 is already a fence around the apparently “carte blanche” spirit. Nothing inspired by the Spirit today should be inconsistent with what Jesus would have done.

So, instead of running away and leaving the hapless spirit-led woman in my office to the secretary, I should have taken her on a journey to discover Jesus’ principles on healthy relationship based on loving actions that take time and energy. Hopefully this would have seemed at odds with trying to start a marriage on a whim – even if it seemed to be God’s whim.

The question of how we deal with so-called spiritual messages from God raises the interesting Christian conundrum of the Trinity, the idea that Divinity is three people… um… but actually only one. God the Spirit offers to us that which belongs to Jesus (vs. 14) who in turn is speaking for God the Father…

This idea of the Trinity is not biblical, which is interesting when you consider that those who are often the strongest advocates of the idea are also those who espouse the supremacy of scripture… Scripture contains, at best, vague allusions to the idea. Really the idea belongs to church history as Christians struggled with worshipping Jesus and yet holding to the first and second Commandment to worship God alone. The debate was resolved (apparently) at the Council of Nicaea, which gave us the Nicaean Creed and the Doctrine of the Trinity.

As usual, Wikipedia is a good place to start for an overview of the subject of the Trinity. Suffice to say, the history of the Trinity has been nearly as bloody as the Crucifixion, which is to say, we’ve kinda lost the point, haven’t we?

Most people are content to leave the Trinity to academics in the mistaken belief that only theologians are qualified to think about such a complicated thing. This is mistaken mostly because academics, by their own admission (mostly), are often the worst theologians; anyone who engages with the idea of God and tries to insert God’s stuff into their daily lives is doing theology; such a person is a theologian.

The way we think about god affects the way we behave in the world. The Trinity offers us not a test for orthodoxy – “whose in and whose out” – but rather a spring-board from which to launch new adventures in spirituality and social transformation.

We need to begin with humility: "Bring me a worm that can comprehend a man, and then I will show you a man that can comprehend the triune God!" said John Wesley

Whenever we attempt to understand something essentially incomprehensible, anything other than tentative pictures, is arrogant in the extreme. This is why it is so startling to see how the church has repeatedly divided over this idea throughout the centuries.

I want to share the one picture I have found most helpful in understanding the Trinity and use it to demonstrate how this idea can affect important transformation of my spirituality and the world in which I live.

Consider someone you know who might be sitting near you as you read this. Maybe it’s your mother or father, a sibling, a colleague. What else is that person to other people – husband, girlfriend, confidant, lover, playmate…? Every person is many things to different people.

My father does not cease to be somebody else’s wife just because he relates to me as father. I am at one and the same time a father, husband, brother, friend and a myriad of other things.

In the same way, God is many but one all the time. God is relationship and we who are created in God’s image are created for relationship.

Now an interesting consequence of this idea is that God is not limited by our imaginations. God can be mother as much as father, a sister as well as a brother, a teacher and a friend.

Perhaps your spirituality has become dry and lifeless and prayer has ceased to be meaningful. Is it possible your imagination has become stuck with a single picture of God, while the dynamic divine has moved on with the rest of your life? Perhaps it’s time to imagine God as mother, God as confidant, or even, dare I say… lover?

Our society doesn’t treat mothers fairly. Neither do our sisters, aunts, daughters or wives get much justice. How would relating to God as female change our own attitudes and indeed inspire us to change our society?

What does my discomfort with the idea of God as lover say about my sexuality? Do I really see my sexuality as something to be nurtured as a blessing from God? What is God’s sexuality? If God is both male and female, yet neither at the same time, who are we to exclude those whose gender is non-specific?

The Trinity has the potential to unlock whole new adventures in your journey with God. Perhaps it’s worth reading up about this rich tradition…

Pentecost

Wind is one of those brilliant metaphors for God that affords one hours of playful theological speculation.

I have always loved Table Mountain. As a teenager I particularly enjoyed climbing up to the Table face overlooking the city bowl when a strong, hot North-Easter was blowing. This is the wind that presages a cold front. If it approaches the face of the mountain at the right angle the city bowl funnels it directly up the face. The wind is therefore concentrated into a vertical blast. Standing a few metres away from the cliff edge there is no wind. As you approach the edge you can feel the wind being sucked off the top of the mountain by the vertical blast. You can lean out into the wind and be held up by it leaning our over the cliff. We would try to find a rock with the right shape and weight so that when it was lobbed over the cliff it would hover.

God’s power has always been clearly demonstrated in the awesome power of wind: that something so insubstantial as air can hold a rock.

I also think of God as having a sense of humour…

In the Cedarberg there is a starkly beautiful peak called Sneuberg which is cold year round, if not always iced over. At the base of the peak is a small, basic hut and nearby is a long drop (latrine). The door of the latrine faces away from the peak but there has for many years been a large gap in the panelling at the back. In the evenings a bitterly cold wind blows off the peak and down into the valley below so that when (generally after a little nightcap) you take your bedtime constitutional, carefully cocooned in winter down, all sleepiness is blown to smithereens and one soberly contemplates being alive, very alive. The constitutional may or may not happen…

Then there are those hot sticky February days in Cape Town when the tar becomes syrup and the cement is hot enough to cook on. One longs for the healing balm of the South Easter. When it comes, it starts as a slight lilt in the air, just enough to make one’s sweat begin to cool. When it gets up a good speed it blows all the pollution away, clearing the city and air.

Sometimes the street children exploit the strange way eddies form in the city around the tall buildings. When the strong Cape Doctor swirls across the cobbles of Green Market Square it provides enough propulsion to send the lighter kids skittering across the cobbles in card board boxes.

The story of Acts 2:1-29 often gets people talking about how weird it must have been to have tongues of fire dancing around the room and people speaking in languages they had never heard. This misses the point. Luke speaks metaphorically to communicate something more important than whether or not flames actually lit up people’s hairdos.

Pilgrims from all over the world - as it was then - came to Jerusalem expecting to meet God. No doubt some, if not many, were disillusioned by not finding God in the Temple. Certainly they were all surprised when they discovered God in ordinary people, especially this bunch of misfits: women speaking in public, peasants speaking like seers and these were the ones whose master was exterminated like a common criminal – yet here they are speaking to us as friends without fear.

Pentecost speaks to the desire for human unity just as the story of Babel does in the Hebrew Scriptures. The people of Babel had a common language and common purpose, yet they were ultimately scattered across the earth in confusion. Unity is not formed when people seek a common language or a common purpose. These are not ends in themselves but merely convenient instruments.

The people of Pentecost discovered something far more valuable. They shared their lives together, holding everything in common. They cared for one another making sure no one in their community struggled while others were privileged. We’re told, “awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved” (Acts 2:43-47).

Genuine unity is based on love, the kind of love the Pentecostal people discovered.

Jump!

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Synod: Legalism and Grace

Last week the Cape of Good Hope District of my church, the Methodist Church of Southern Africa, met in Synod for three days. This is a gathering of about 250 lay and clergy members from a region stretching from the Orange River to Cape Town and Knysna. It is one of 12 Districts of the MCSA, which has congregations throughout 6 countries in southern Africa.

At the beginning of every annual Synod there is a roll call, part of which comprises questions asked of all clergy in the District. Each minister must be able to say in good conscience that they believe and teach the church’s doctrine and observe and enforce the church’s discipline. Any member of Synod can raise an objection against a minister who they feel is not doing this.

19 clergy in our Synod registered qualified answers to the discipline questions. This qualification was based on the fact that many of us have blessed same-sex unions and intend to do so in the future. Recent pronouncements by various courts and members of the hierarchy have led us to believe that such blessings are in breach of the church’s discipline. We disagree. A statement to that effect was circulated to the Synod. There was some initial difficulty in terms of process as Bishop Andrew Hefkie, our District Bishop and chairperson of the Synod, appeared apprehensive. His opening comments about not fighting with each other – addressed to a gathering of ministers before Synod – made me feel like I was being told not to rock the boat. There was some confusion / debate about whether we should talk about it together as ministers before Synod but the decision was to keep it as part of Synod. In the end the questions passed without much fanfare, our qualifications were lodged and noted and I think it was good that the process remained dignified.

The only surprise was a resolution from Rev. Keith Vermeulen that those who had registered qualified answers should recuse themselves from the Synod. I thought this was an excellent idea as I hadn’t found a decent place to quietly watch the movies I’d prepared on my laptop for boring moments in Synod! Fortunately sanity prevailed and Bishop Andrew appointed a Pastoral Commission to meet with the individuals concerned to discuss a way forward.

That evening, after Synod had recessed, Bishop Andrew was interviewed by SABC. You can read the article on the web here. There was also something televised. It seems that this news got our Presiding Bishop - that is the highest office in the church in charge of all 12 Districts, what we call the “Connexion” – quite angry and the next morning Bishop Andrew was called out of Synod to a telephone call. When he returned he instructed the 19 ministers to leave the Synod.

It was a huge shock. Many of the 19 were active members of Synod due to facilitate processes or offer reports that day. The vice chairperson and secretary of Synod were also amongst our number. Synod was effectively crippled and limped on throughout the day. At least three groups of local church representatives walked out in solidarity with us, though most were convinced to return.

The Pastoral Commission met with us and through protracted negotiation, the decision was taken to register a formal dispute with the Presiding Bishop and our Connexional Executive and to seek mediation.

Bishop Andrew, who knew well before the time about our planned action, had sought advice from his fellow Bishops and had asked for a meeting of the Bishops to discuss it. He was left hanging. Though I thought he handled it well, allowing us our protest and setting up a process to deal with it, it seems he was instructed to act otherwise, telling us to leave – something he visibly felt uncomfortable with.

During the day, Bishop Andrew suspended Synod temporarily. While Synod was in recess he came to fetch us and brought us back in to the church sanctuary where all the Synod delegates were still sitting – now officially an informal gathering. We prayed together, holding hands in a big circle. It was very moving. People prayed for unity and courage. We then went to tea and after tea Synod was called to meet again.

Many of us were embraced by colleagues and friends who disagree with us theologically on the question of same-sex unions, but who, none-the-less, respect our freedom of conscience. The vast majority of the members of Synod would have opposed our theology but none-the-less disagreed with the way we had been handled. That day was very emotional and profoundly charged with grace.

After the Pastoral Commission informed Bishop Andrew of the agreement to seek mediation, he came to fetch us again. He led all 19 of us back into the now officially constituted Synod and reinstated us as members of Synod. As we filed in behind him we received a standing ovation. It was overwhelming. I don’t think any of us had a dry eye.

There was something of a backlash the following day however, when a motion was put to the Synod. This motion asked the Synod to allow for freedom of conscience with respect to the blessing of same-sex unions. We were also asking that this freedom of conscience give leave for those so inclined to become licensed by Home Affairs to conduct Civil Unions for same-sex couples. If this passed as a resolution, it would have gone on to Conference, our highest decision making body. The motion was defeated by a relatively close margin. I think it was 84 against and 65 for. When one compares this to motions defeated in previous Synods, one can see a definite shift over the years.

During the debate on this motion another motion was put to the Synod, which called for a referendum of MCSA members on the issue of same-sex unions. This was accepted by the Synod and now passes as a resolution to our Conference for decision there. Again, the margin of victory for this motion was narrow. Anyway, it is extremely unlikely that Conference will accept this resolution because there has never been a referendum on any issue in the history of the church primarily because it is not part of our practice to consult in this way.

So while the backlash was not unexpected, it was significant in its muted tone. I believe the church is slowly changing its mind on this issue and I think this Synod turned a corner last week.

Aluta Continua!

(You can read a follow up article in the Sunday Times here.)

Jesus meets a gay man

Love this. Click here.

Wash my feet every day, Lord

A teacher decided to start a band at her school and gathered together enthusiastic students. After much effort, investment and bonding, she succeeded in teaching a small group of eager learners how to play their various instruments and do so in unison. They decided to venture forth with a concert for the school and at an assembly the band gathered on the stage in front of the whole school, nervously fidgeting their instruments. As the teacher took the podium to conduct her pride and joy, she noticed their anxiety and leant forwards to whisper: “Remember, if you lose your place or feel too nervous, just pretend you are playing…” With that she raised her baton and silently mouthed, “One, two… three…” The first note sounded: silence.

The church is a bit like that. God calls and on the count of three, there is silence as we look to each other for a lead, for some hopeful sign of knowing what to do. The result is deafening silence.

This last week, the lectionary guided us to read the story of Jesus washing his disciple’s feet at the last supper. It’s a story we know so well it has lost some of its startling power. Jesus act was amazingly simple and powerfully meaningful – something only a fully alive person could have come up with. It shocked his disciples to the core, but, together with the breaking of bread and sharing of wine, went on to be a central symbolic theme in their lives and the lives of the church ever since.

Robert Herhold reminds us that this scene has been called the “sacrament that almost was”. Sadly it never made it even though it has all the ingredients one expects of such ecclesiological constructs. I am sure that this is because of its power. If you have ever participated in such a ceremony, it is far more disturbing than communion or baptism, especially if you are having your feet washed – no matter how much you’ve washed your feet before hand…

Robert imagines the theological battles that might have resulted if foot washing had become a sacrament: “It’s probably just as well that foot washing never became a sacrament. Church property committees would not take kindly to pans of dirty water on the new carpet in the chancel. If theologians had gone to work on the question, we would still be embroiled in endless debate as to whether the feet should be immersed or sprinkled. Liturgists would argue whether the right foot or the left foot should be immersed first. Others would speculate on the symbolism of baptizing heads or feet. It’s always easier to follow Jesus in our heads than it is to follow him with our feet on the Via Dolorosa.”

What is it about Jesus that made him so dynamic; so able to strike home such powerful messages in simple acts? And what a contrast to the apathy of the church! It is tempting to write-off Jesus’ abilities as Divine, especially if one belongs to those of a Trinitarian fundamentalistic bent. For me, Jesus was human and so I can’t but be amazed at his ability in contrast to my lack thereof.

I guess that most of the reason we struggle to act appropriately, effectively and authentically is because we lack the confidence to do so. As much as my self-esteem issues hold me back in so many of my pursuits, it is no different in church.

Surely Jesus has the same problem? We hallow his parents, but they were still human and must have left Jesus with a very human legacy of personal issues to wade through in adulthood. And the playground wounds we all have and live with? He must have had those too. And yet, every time he acts decisively, effectively, shockingly and transformingly.

Something in Jesus’ identity helped him overcome his self-esteem issues. As far as we can tell, his identity is crystallised in the story of his baptism. However we may regard the historical veracity of this story, the kernel of truth must surely be this: for Jesus, he knew in some deep way that he was beloved of God, that God was well pleased with him. I imagine that this was how he began each day of his life, building his identity on this single fact; allowing every act to flow from this singular reference point.

I think of the things I say to myself every day, especially the things I say at the beginning of the day, “Come on lazy-arse, if you don’t get going now, you’ll screw up again. Oh, and you forgot to brush your teeth silly! Do you really think you can handle this meeting today, if you can’t even remember where you left the keys?!”

And yet, I belong to the same baptism as Jesus. I belong to the same promise: I am beloved of God. God is well pleased with me.

What a profound arrogance: to believe that my opinions of myself are more important than God’s!

Jesus’ identity is framed by God. God is his beginning and end. He gets on with his life.

There is a beautiful theological word, “eschatology”, which is all about the study of the “end times”. As Christians we believe that time is linear. It had a beginning and will one day end. Jesus placed his identity firmly in the hands of this God who would bring history to a loving conclusion in God’s heart.

But eschatology should never be divorced from ethics – the struggle to determine what is right and wrong for today. Jesus moved from eschatological identity to engage every day with every day people, bringing his identity into conversation with a broken world.

Some time ago the Methodist Church of Southern Africa struggled with the question of legalising abortions. Our eschatology affirms the sanctity of all life, even unborn life and so the immediate response is always, the unborn are sacred and should not be killed. But as we bring this affirmation to bear on the streets we find that not only the unborn are at risk. Mothers, whose pregnancies cannot truly be called consensual or even desired, are threatened because of back-street abortions and the pressures of family and poverty. Our ethical struggle forced us to come down on the lesser of two evils: abortion is in some cases the best we can do in a terrible situation. We long for a world where such a desperate choice will not be necessary. Eschatology and ethics in conversation.

Such a conversation for me personally is only possible when I begin with my baptism: I am loved by God.

As Robert Herhold puts it: “An eschatology without ethics is futuristic and irrelevant. Ethics without an eschatology is desperate and futile. But joined together, they can produce the power to wash feet; to live fully today because God is in the present as well as in the tomorrow, and to work for the impossible because with God all things are finally possible.”

Gun Control - Australia

Many of you know that I am part of Gun Free South Africa. Here’s some news which explains a little about why I do this work:

Australian gun reform outcomes _ Geoff Harris

A December 2006 article in the international journal Injury Prevention examines the apparent effects of Australian gun law reforms, now ten years old. The study’s findings may be useful to those involved in the South African gun control debate.

Following the massacre of 35 people at Port Arthur in Tasmania in 1996, state and national governments initiated a programme to remove semi-automatic and pump actions guns from civilian possession. Some 650 000 such weapons were purchased from their owners at market prices, and was funded by a special levy on income tax. Perhaps another 50 000-60 000 non-prohibited guns were handed in without compensation. The main aim of the 1996-98 reforms, which included a much stricter licensing system for gun owners, was to reduce the incidence of ‘mass shootings’, which were defined as the gun killings of five or more people at one time.

The researchers were particularly interested in the effect of the reforms on mass shootings. They found that there were 13 mass shootings in the 18 years (1979-96) before the reforms and none in the following 10.5 years (1996-2006).

A second interest of the study was to examine firearm death rates per 100 000 people (made up of suicides and homicides) which had been declining during the 18 years prior to the legislation. The researchers investigated whether there were any changes following the reforms. One possibility was that the rates could increase as criminals took advantage of the fewer guns held by civilians for protective purposes. Another was that people would simply use another weapon in place of a gun. The study found that the rate of decline in firearm-related deaths (both homicides and suicides) at least doubled following the reforms.

Elementary statistical theory tells us to be cautious in attributing causality in cases like this. It could be that some other factors, apart from the reforms, have led to the non-occurrence of mass shootings and the accelerated decline in gun deaths following the reforms. It is, however, very difficult to think of such factors. The researchers comment that ‘the data swings shown are so obvious that if one were given the data … and were asked to guess the date of a major firearm intervention, it would be clear that it happened between 1996 and 1998.’

There will be plenty of scope to debate the relevance of these findings to South Africa but two concluding points can be made. The researchers report a massive change in Australian attitudes towards guns following the 1996 massacre and reforms. Such a change is yet to happen in South Africa and the government therefore needs to continue to push the public in socially-desirable directions. South African gun owners have no reason to feel particularly victimized in this respect. This is precisely the job of government which it carries out in areas ranging from environmental protection, the use of seat belts in vehicles and the practice of safe sex.

The government does need to be aware of the fear which motivates many South Africans to own guns. It is an enormous challenge to government to genuinely allay these fears, in which case the perceived need to own guns will
be reduced.

Geoff Harris, an Australian, has been Professor of Economics at the University of KwaZulu-Natal since 1999.

Iron John ride to Sedgefield

Click here to see photos of our recent trip to Sedgefield.

Dead Man Walking

I wonder what it is about Easter that changed Peter? He goes from being too terrified to leave a room he’s been holed up in for three days, to being able to declare before thousands that he is one of Jesus’ disciples, aware that such a declaration could bring instant death.

If I had heard that the South African authorities had executed some criminal for treason and then three days later he rose to life again, I would have dismissed such a story as the kind of rubbish you read in “The Voice” or “You” magazine.

If I happened to be friends with the dead-man-still-walking and he appeared in my room one night and said “Peace, brother,” I’d run for my life, or have myself checked into Falkenberg Psychiatric Maximum Security.

Peter, however, worships Jesus, or more precisely, Jesus’ ghost… Not the reaction of a sane man.

I don’t believe that the Resurrection appearance of Jesus changed Peter. Something else must have changed him from coward to Rock.

The only thing I can think of is that the story of the women must have changed him. Not actually the story itself, but because of who was telling him - and everyone else: women - forbidden to speak in public - were spreading the story, in the face of real personal danger – danger for speaking, let alone danger for representing a political traitor.

Suddenly, Peter has a dawning realization that Jesus isn’t just another itinerant prophet like Isaiah, or even the Messiah, whom he’d pinned his hopes on. Jesus was more than that. Peter begins to realize that when Jesus welcomed the children despite the disciples’ discomfort, he wasn’t merely displaying a particular affection, but rather communicating something fundamental about his Kingdom. Peter sees that the strange company Jesus kept wasn’t an aberration of his character, but something core to the character of Jesus’ God. Peter sees that the world has been inexorably set on a path to change, beginning with these women's freedom.

Suddenly Peter’s vista on the world opens up and he sees things very differently. Jesus is dead. And so is Peter. And he couldn’t be happier!

Jesus the itinerant prophet is dead, Jesus the messiah is dead. Peter the fearful fisherman is dead. The real Jesus belongs to a Kingdom no death can defeat and has invited Peter to be part of that Kingdom.

There is none so brave as those who know they are dead already. Peter marches out and preaches under the “Wanted: Dead or Alive!” posters. The face of Peter the fisherman on the poster resembles that of Peter the Preacher pointing to the poster, but they are different men.

Peter is dead. The Romans can kill him, the Sanhedrin can put him in jail, but it will mean nothing, Peter is dead already. The real Peter cannot die for he belongs to a dream of human freedom that no darkness can ever put out.

No wonder Jesus says to the disciples in the upper room: “Peace be with you.”

I long to know the peace of a dead man. To confront every knife and gun on the streets of Woodstock, knowing that it can only injure my body, destroy my flesh, but that I am dead already and my dream of a free world will never die.

But if I am dead already, why do I need life insurance?

...

Forgive me Lord, for I am frail and afraid. Visit me with Easter courage.

Carcass anyone?

There is a photo in the latest National Geographic of a woman buying the carcass of a Nile perch from a local fisherman. The caption reads: “Emblematic of First World exploitation of Africa’s resources, only the carcasses of Nile perch are affordable sources of protein for some Tanzanians living around Lake Victoria. Perch fillets are stripped in 35 lakeside processing plants and shipped north, mainly to Europe but also to Israel. With years of overfishing, perch stocks have fallen drastically, imperilling the livelihoods of more than 100,000 fisherman and depriving local people of food.”

Easter

Read Luke 24:1-11 

Yvette asked me recently, “Do you think I exaggerate?” 

This is one of those questions that men dread. Like, “Do I look fat in this?” Damned if you do, damned if you don’t… There really is no answer. 

I must admit that in the back of my male mind was this little voice saying, “Don’t all women exaggerate?” 

I’m in good company. Even the Gospels report the women have different stories on their return from the tomb. Luke says, “suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them.” The earlier version recorded in Mark recounts that the women saw, “a young man dressed in a white robe.” Matthew says they saw an “angel of the Lord.” John says that Mary was met by “two angels in white,” and then by Jesus.  

No wonder the men found the women’s “words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.” The story gets more and more fabulous! 

I love the fact that the Gospels don’t try and harmonize themselves as so many Christians have tried. Truth is an elusive thing that changes clothing every day. We meet it serendipitously when we turn a corner surprised to find it wearing the guise of the one person in the world we thought least likely to speak sense. 

I grew up in a culture that taught me to treat all information with skepticism. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” And this is a useful skill for it prevents gullibility. But it can only go so far. There is a limit to its usefulness. There are some things that can only been seen by those who believe… 

Women see a world men can only perceive with effort. So too: children and the poor. Those who wage war do not know the world that is seen by those who receive the “peace of empire”. 

Because of the peculiar world seen by those on the receiving end of other peoples’ exercise of power, there is also a peculiar hope that springs from such people, a hope perhaps born from a position of having nothing to lose… 

It’s the kind of hope that “moves mountains” – Faith. The kind of hope that believes a man can defeat death. The kind of hope that believes all people belong to each other. The kind of hope that believes we can love our enemies. The kind of hope that gets women risking their lives talking to men in public. The kind of hope that allows truth to speak for itself in the moment. 

Sarah tells of a Franciscan blessing which speaks to this hope: “May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you really can make a difference in this world, so that you are able, with God’s grace, to do what others claim cannot be done.” 

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.

Thank You

I’ve been very quiet recently. The run up to Easter was a stressful time and generally I don’t look forward to this time of year. This year I received a great deal of love and support and was reminded of what is most important about this time: that friends carry one another’s burdens. I am thankful for all the wonderful people in my life, and am grateful for all the gifts of grace given these past few weeks. Yvette carried the heaviest burden as she had to compensate for me not being around much. Thank you Vettie. Thank you friends.

Job Interview Continued

What if I ask myself the same questions I asked in the previous post? This seems appropriate as an exercise for Lent.

"What will your strategy be?"

I tend to approach daily life reactively. This makes life very busy. I seldom take the time to ponder the underlying, often hidden dynamics that create the problems and opportunities I am responding to. This is no strategy at all. It is merely survival.

I remember an interview with Bishop Tutu in which he was asked how he managed such a busy life. He responded that he spends two hour a day praying.

Those who understand spiritual maturity speak of one of the primary benefits of such introspection and examination being that one can respond spontaneously and authentically to daily events in ways that encourage what is important rather than merely reacting to the urgent.

If I presume to complain about the state of the nation, perhaps I should start with the state of me soul. Gandhi said, “Be the change you wish to see in the world”?

“What is your hope / vision?”

Where is my hope? What does my budget say about my hope? My hope I guess is in Sanlam. I am insured to the hilt. I have often wondered about Western culture’s obsession with pension funds. Arguably it is the young looking after the old, but personally it feels like trusting an impersonal institution for my care rather than my own children or community…

“Whom (what) do you trust?”

Do I trust Jesus? Yikes, what a question! The oke’s already in heaven, so the one running the risks is me. Truth is, there is no cavalry when the shit hits the fan. So it’s a tall order. Do I really want to follow this man?

Yes. At the end of the day, I can think of nothing more meaningful than the cause of Jesus’ adventure. I am alive because Jesus has shown me how to be alive.

Nice Net Nibbles

This is a selection of stuff I've found interesting from the net from the last three months. Can't remember who sent it all to me.

These happy pots are cleverly created from the reflection of the adjacent burners, a piece of pasta and a bottle top. (Link)

Damn! This kid is funny...

Last year was the 10th memorium of Carl Sagan. He is one of my heroes and you can read what people have to say about his memory here.

You can download free documentaries from this site. Some of them are really good.

Another really clever design idea. Great toy.

This is a clip from an Attenborough documentary which I've seen a few times in the last few months. It's obviously getting people freaked out.

If you like maps and you have a social conscience, then this site is going to keep you locked in for a long time. It's fascinating.

This one is funny for a while and then disconcerting. Find out where Santa is...

David Bayne has been visiting SHADE and told me about the black ring he wears on his finger. It's worth reading David's blog to hear the story.

I found this video amazing. It expanded my ideas about what constituted thinking, personality, personhood.

This is a practical joke I'd love to try. Somebody's car has been covered in post-it notes!

Here is an interview with Richard Dawkins about his recent book, "The God Delusion." I think he makes some valuable points. This is why I tend to agree more with Dawkins scientific "fundamentalism" more than with religious fundamentalism. I found this quote from Dawkins particularly meaningful. Dawkins wants this to be read at his funeral:

"We are going to die and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they're never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place, but who will, in fact, never see the light of day, outnumber the sand grains of Sahara. ...In the face of these stupefying odds, it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here. Here's another respect in which we are lucky. The universe is older than a hundred million centuries. Within a comparable time, the sun will swell to a red giant and engulf the earth. Every century of hundreds of millions has been in its time, or will be when its time comes, the present century. The present moves from the past to the future like a tiny spotlight inching its way along a gigantic ruler of time. Everything behind the spotlight is in darkness, the darkness of the dead past. Everything ahead of the spotlight is in the darkness of the unknown future. The odds of your century being the one in the spotlight are the same as the odds that a penny, tossed down at random, will land on a particular ant crawling somewhere on the road from New York to San Francisco. You are lucky to be alive and so am I."

And on a similar vein, Peter published a valuable contribution on his blog.

Job Interview

Read Luke 4:1-13

Some have compared the temptation of Jesus to a job-interview. These would be fascinating questions to ask in a job interview. I extrapolate some questions we might ask of our leaders now that we have heard the “State of the Nation” address and the budget speech.

What will your strategy be?

Firstly, Jesus is tempted to turn stone into bread. Jesus responds that people live on more than bread – they need the Word of God (cf. Matthew’s version of the story). I presume that Jesus refers to the prophets that came before him, whose consistent refrain was for Israel to care for the “widow, the orphan and the stranger.” These were the most vulnerable in society then as they are even today. A society is measured by how well it cares for such people.

The people who applauded the recent speeches in Parliament, including some of the rebuttals by the opposition party and other parties, were largely powerful and wealthy. The poor and disenfranchised were not applauding…

Jesus is tempted to meet people’s immediate needs as a way of gaining their favour. Instead he spends his time, not only responding as best he can to their immediate distress, but also examining the systems that cause ordinary people’s distress. There was nothing in the President or Mr. Manuel’s addresses that left me confident we are addressing the causes of our nation’s distress.

What is your hope / vision?

Secondly, Jesus is tempted to embrace Satan’s power and give his allegiance to the expediency of the devil. Jesus responds that such worship is for God alone. Only God deserves our ultimate allegiance.

Where one’s hope is can be seen immediately when one examines one’s budget. South Africa’s hope is in Big Business. We believe that creating a climate that benefits the largest companies is where our hope lies. Not in small businesses, not in the vast majority of the people of this country – the wretched of the earth - but in those companies whose Apartheid complicity - not to mention inhuman African operations - has yet to be interrogated. We are investing in “economic growth” (read “Trickle Down Economics – ala Thatcher / Reagan) and “black economic empowerment” (read “buddy economic empowerment”) rather than genuine social capital.

Jesus is tempted to follow political expediency and instead follows the dangerous path of compassion. I shudder to think that our leaders know nothing of the truth of people’s suffering.

Whom (or what) do you trust?

Thirdly, Jesus is tempted to play dice with God; availing himself to the truth of Scripture. But instead, Jesus points out how Scripture itself is contradictory.

For the past 13 years our government has implemented economic policies consistent with the rules of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank. Adherence to these policies is required of all countries that receive loans from these institutions. Most of the countries that have received such loans are from the so-called developing world. These policies have consistently led to the impoverishment of the vast majority of these country’s people. South Africa has no loans with the IMF or the World Bank that require adherence to these policies. South Africa implements them because they are policies laid down by the economic bible of globalisation.

Jesus is tempted to seek the security of religious fundamentalism yet casts himself instead in faith upon the mercy of a Living God who goes with him to the glory and agony of a cross. I recall the words of my friend, Alan Storey, “I do not follow the Bible, I read the Bible, that I may follow Jesus.”

Our leaders have retreated in fear from the risk of trusting the people who elected them. They have placed the trust in people who have never lived without clean water and electricity, lived in fear of state police or worked 16 hour days. What these “experts” know about the “real” world leaves me at a loss for words…

From Sojourners

Diana Butler Bass: Giving Up Lent for Lent
A few years ago, I stopped struggling with my bad attitude toward Lent. I gave up Lent for Lent. I skipped Ash Wednesday, made no promises to God, and instituted no rigorous prayer schedule. I wanted to enjoy one March with no onerous spiritual obligations. An odd thing happened, however, during my Lenten non-observance. I began to understand and experience Lent in new and deeper ways. When freed from expectations and requirements, sermons and scriptures spoke to my soul. By the end of Lent, I found myself willingly attending extra services, including two Good Friday liturgies. On Easter Sunday, the resurrection broke over me with unexpected power – with love joyfully overcoming the intense introspection that built during my non-Lenten weeks.

Love's True Form

Luke 9:28 - 36

Thinking about transfiguration I came across several transformations this week in the papers: Zebulon Dread, the Observatory-based cultural terrorist famed for his publication “Voetsek!” has become a Hare Krishna, trading in his dreadlocks for the shaven countenance of a pilgrim. This coming week hundreds of good looking guys will become fantastic, peacock Queens as Cape Town hosts the 7th annual Pride festival. In the near future Cape Town International may become La Guma International. Then I think of the changes that have happened in South Africa since 1994. We are accustomed to change in SA.

Like all these changes, the transfiguration generated a mixed response from the disciples: awe, fear, worship. Such an event demands attention, demands a response. The editorial page of most papers attests to South Africans’ response to changes in the last 13 years, but Jesus’ disciples keep silent. Strange.

Another strange thing about Jesus transfiguration is that it happens in the middle of the story. This is the kind of thing Hollywood would put at the end of the story – a dramatic, dazzling transformation of the hero of the story.

But the glory and climax of Jesus' story is still to come. Jesus' story upsets our ideas about how a story should be told. Like Peter and the other disciples we will be shocked at the awesome terror of Christ’s Cross: Christ’s true glory.

Sarah compares the transfiguration to two movies: “Beauty and the Beast” and “Shrek”. In “Beauty and the Beast” there is a transfiguration as we would expect to find it: the ugly hero of the story is transformed into a handsome prince. In Shrek, Princess Fiona is cursed and becomes an ogre every evening at sunset. In her transfiguration she is transformed into “loves true form” but this is an ogre, not a princess! Fiona’s transfiguration subverts our understanding of beauty but is entirely appropriate since Shrek, an ogre, loves her.

Jesus’ transfiguration is similar in that it too subverts our understanding of glory.

In this painting of the Transfiguration by Raphael, one can see some of the subversion intended by Luke. Jesus, Moses and Elijah are painted in typically heavenly fashion, but one’s eye is immediately drawn to the crowd below. A woman points to a crowd of people needing healing and attention. The nine remaining disciples seem reluctant to respond. One even seems to suggest that attention should be focussed on what is happening on the mountain.

In the telling of the story, Jesus too rushes back down the mountain to attend to the real business at hand.

The Transfiguration story has all the attributes one would expect in ancient literature when the protagonist is being held up as something special. Apart from the fantastic demonstration of light and wonder, there are the specific clues to Jesus’ authority within the Jewish tradition: Moses and Elijah.

But the story appears in the wider story like wayward punctuation. It is almost as if Luke is saying: “Here are the required heavenly rubber stamps, now let’s get on with the business of healing and transformation...”

The embrace of humanity is far more important to the Divine than the glory of heaven. Those who call themselves by his name would do well to adopt the same kind of worship.

Turn up the volume of your life

When I was little our bathroom had the usual clutter that accumulates around most people’s baths, but there was one piece of bathroom detritus that fascinated me. It was a rock that floated. Mom and Dad called it “pumice”. I later learned that pumice is formed in the bowels of a volcano when rock is liquid and bubbles are trapped in the hardening liquid, like the fizz in a cola. It is the bubbles in the hardened rock, which allows pumice to float. The bubbles also give pumice a sandpapery texture just rough enough for smoothing calluses. I spent most of my childhood barefoot and my hands and feet often became cracked as calluses became too big. So the pumice was a useful item in my bath time.

Look at the calluses on your hand. What stories do they tell? What do they say about the work you do? Manual labour tends to make the calluses at the base of each finger quite prominent. Guitar players will have calluses on the ends of their left hand fingers from pressing the strings on the fret. If you wash your hands using a rock to knead the cloth, the heel of your hand will be callused. And if you wear a ring it will create a callus where it rests on your finger – something the astute will notice when being picked up in a bar by the ring-less…

Calluses are useful to protect our bodies from the daily grind we subject them to. Sometimes, however, a callus can become too hard, too big, it cracks and become infected.

Read Isaiah 6:9-10

Isaiah is instructed to harden people’s hearts so they will not repent; a strange message.

Steve Cook points out that the hardening of people’s hearts is a form of emotional callus. A callus on the hand is useful and so we don’t notice it until it becomes a problem when the hardening becomes so hard that it no longer flexes with the surrounding skin. It is then that we notice the problem and deal with it. Similarly, an emotional callus is useful up to a point in protecting us from some of the traumas we face, but it becomes a problem when the callus is no longer able to flex, to mould to the circumstances of our lives. At this point it cracks and can become infected – perhaps with cynicism or bitterness.

Isaiah must push the people to the point where their emotional callousness becomes a problem they are forced to deal with.

Listen to these words from Paul Brand in “Fearfully and Wonderfully Made”:

“A troubling phenomenon recurs among young Christians reared in solid homes and sound churches. After living their early years as outstanding examples of Christian faith, many become spiritual dropouts. Did they fail because they concentrated on the exterior, visible Christian life? Did they learn to mimic certain behaviors, nuances of words, and emotional responses? Crayfish-like, did they develop a hard exterior that resembled everyone else’s and conclude such was the kingdom of God, while inside they were weak and vulnerable?

... An outside shell can seem attractive, trustworthy, and protective. It certainly has advantages over a dead, useless skeleton or over no skeleton at all. But God desires for us a more advanced skeleton that serves as it stays hidden.” (thanks to SojoNet for the quote).

Part of the reason we become emotionally callused is survival. It’s a coping mechanism: one that works but it has diminishing returns as the callus grows.

To switch metaphors: yesterday in our biker’s circle we talked about feelings and how important they are. Like the lights on the motorbike dashboard feelings are signs that alert one to needs within one’s system. Putting duct-tape over the oil light isn’t going to make the oil problem go away, yet this is exactly what we tend to do with our feelings – we ignore and bury them and the need becomes a problem. Emotions are signs that there is something in the system that needs attention.

Read Luke 5:1-11

We often think of Peter and his fellow fishers as living an idyllic country life. As Sarah Dylan Breuer points out, though, it was anything but… Apart from the obvious dangers of the Sea of Galilee which apparently is tempestuous for its size, the fishers of Peter’s day were caught in a debt trap, having to pay taxes over an above their usual overheads. There was also the cost of fishing rights on the Sea. At the end of each day, there was seldom anything left for their families. With no insurance, the daily worry of injury or accident must have worn away at their lives.

When Jesus asks them to cast their nets on the other side and their nets come up busting with fish, their world changed forever. They no longer were consumed by the daily question, “Will I catch enough?” but from then on their lives were determined by the question “Can I find enough people to help me haul in this generous catch?”

The emotional callus of daily worry is transformed into an emotional openness to new possibilities and people.

This is the promise of spiritual maturity that the Good News offers: a transformative experience that liberates me from the narrow confines of my daily grind so that I can see people as people again, not just instruments, clients, allies, enemies, providers, takers and so on. I can be transformed from callousness to compassion. My heart becomes soft again so that, like a child, I am sensitive to so much more of the world around me.

This doesn’t mean that the spiritual journey is one of instant and perpetual joy. On the contrary, Peter embarks on an emotional roller-coaster ride with Jesus all the way to Jerusalem. As one reads that story, one cannot but be amazed at the volume of the emotions Peter experiences. It is an intense experience – the highs are mountainous (remember the transfiguration?) and the lows are hellish (remember his denial of Jesus?).

Let me switch metaphors again: when we were talking about feelings yesterday William pointed out that out feelings are like a Hi-fi system without a graphic equalizer. The graphic equalizer allows one to manipulate the volume of specific frequencies so that, for instance, one can make the music have more base or treble. But in the emotional system, there is only a single volume control. Turn down the volume when one is angry or sad, and one finds that affection and ebullience are muted too.

The spiritual journey tunes us in to our feelings so that we know our needs more acutely. Similarly we can tune in to the needs of others because we become more sensitive. We become more compassionate.

The discipline of the spiritual life is to spend time with emotions, to discover the underlying needs. This is especially true of the darker emotions. Spiritual maturity is characterised by an ability to know oneself and so be in control of oneself. Feelings become the wind that blows through a flute each with a distinct note that together creates music – to borrow a Buddhist metaphor!

Discovering the energy of our personal emotional systems also tunes us to the possibilities in the world. Instead of being overwhelmed by the massive problems the world faces our creative energies are released to find innovative strategies of dealing with these problems. We can move from the cynical, “There just isn’t enough to fill this bottomless pit” to the insightful, “Poverty is stupid in a world that has enough but will not share.” (Bono paraphrased)

Jesus is calling you to the bounty and wealth of your own inner life and the gift of vulnerability to others. Discover the joy that comes when you spend time with your own feelings – especially the dark ones. Discover the connection that comes when you open yourself up to those around you and trust them with your feelings. Discover the power of God’s generosity in your own life and the world.

May your heart grow soft and supple.

Great news: weird is good

I received a piece of email humour this week about the difference between men and women:
Friendship between women: A woman didn’t come home one night. She told her husband that she had slept over at her friend’s house. Her husband called her 10 best friends. None of them knew what he was talking about.
Friendship between men: A man didn’t come home one night. He told his wife that he had slept over at a friend’s house. His wife called his 10 best friends. 8 of them confirmed that he had slept over. 2 said he was still there.

This week I had a motorbike accident and the news spread pretty quickly. The support from friends was very affirming. I know that I am loved.

My women friends called: are you ok? Wonderful! What did the doctor say? Uh-huh, what’s the diagnosis? And the prognosis? So what actually happened? Does it hurt? How are you feeling? It must have been awful! What will you do? How long will it be sore? Are you taking medication? Can I bring you something? Can I do anything?

My men friends called: are you ok? Uh-huh… how’s the bike? Ouch!

When I first started working at Central Methodist Mission I did a bit of preaching at the other 5 churches that form part of the Table Bay Circuit. On a Sunday there isn’t much transport and I didn’t have a car, so I would often arrive on roller blades at preaching appointments. When I was accepted as a candidate for the ministry, a member of the congregation insisted on getting a photo of me in clerical gear – full gown and collar – riding down Church Street on my roller blades.

Over the years I have been blessed with the acceptance of people who have accepted my idiosyncrasies with grace. But I’ve also been dismayed that so many people’s individuality is not accepted in the church. By and large, ministers get away with more than lay people and this saddens me even more. It is very difficult to be an eccentric in the church, particularly if you are not clergy.

Naomi Klein, in her book No Logo, points out that the important gains made by the identity politics of the 90’s had the unfortunate side effect of diminishing the importance of uniqueness, of individuality. Fighting for racial and gender equality has been a critical movement of the last few decades but there is a danger of subsuming the important differences between people under the banner of equality.

For instance, we often talk of “unity despite our differences” but if genuine, just unity is to be achieved it is differences that hold the key. Let’s see why…

First a bit of background: humans have evolved as the most successful species on the planet at the moment. One of the skills we have honed to perfection is that of co-operation. While many animals co-operate, humans have made it a cornerstone of their success. A mechanism that is very important to co-operating organisms, particularly humans, is the ability to conform.
If an individual arrives in a new environment which is unfamiliar the best way to learn how to survive is to copy the behaviours of the majority of individuals already in that environment. The degree of accuracy in copying these behaviours determines the newcomer’s ability to adapt quickly and efficiently. Sometimes this means that superfluous behaviours are copied indiscriminately together with the adaptive behaviours.

For instance, a hunter from the highlands comes down to the coast. There is not much game to be had near the sea but the hunter can learn to fish from the fisher folk who live at the sea already. To gain access to their knowledge, it is in the interests of the hunter to quickly assimilate into the culture of the fisher folk and so many behaviours will be learned which have little or no immediate survival value apart from allowing the hunter to gain access to the valuable fishing skills of his new people. Depending on how stringent the culture of the fisher folk is and how assertive the hunter is, there is also a danger that important information carried by the hunter may be lost as the hunter becomes a fisher.

By and large, over the broad expanse of evolutionary history, the benefits of conformity have outweighed the problems. Until now that is.

Humanity’s extraordinary adaptive power has created for the first time a being that threatens the whole biosphere and we can longer rely on the randomness of evolution to determine our survival. While there is a strong likelihood that humanity’s extinction will not necessarily result in the earth’s destruction, there are too many possible scenarios in which our extinction will have cataclysmic results for all other species and the biosphere as a whole. Be that as it may, our survival is important – at least to us – and that survival cannot happen without the planet

Hence Jesus calls us to a new creation. We are the first creatures that have the chance to consciously affect natural selection. We have become what God has longed for: a being able to make decisions equivalent to God’s own; a being able to choose to love.

If we love the world we live in, indeed, if we love ourselves, we have to start choosing behaviours that are good for us and our world. We can longer conform to standards that once worked. Those behaviours have resulted in overpopulation, expended resources and death. What is needed more than ever is the eccentric – an individual prepared to break the mould.

Read Luke 4:14-21

Jesus goes home for a visit and pops in at the church he grew up in. I imagine him remembering his days in “Sunday School” and “Confirmation Class” – the way Rabbi Z’s beard used to bounce when he got excited about some Talmudic obscurity. He is invited to preach. The congregation want to see what all the fuss is about. They’ve heard about young Jesus’ controversial sermons in other parts of Galilee.

Jesus reads from Isaiah. What many modern readers miss in this quote is the fact that Jesus has deliberately edited Isaiah. Instead of carrying on into verse 2 from Isaiah 61, Jesus skips back to Isaiah 42:7 and inserts those words. He is quite careful in this selection because it still fits with the rhythm of Hebrew poetry in the text. Jesus’ deliberate change means that the words of “God’s vengeance” are taken out and instead he reads about the recovery of sight for the blind.
Jesus deliberately chooses to ignore hundred’s of years of theology about the vengeance of God.
Ever since Jesus, the church has tried to resurrect that vengeance.

Whereas, Jesus’ mission statement is all about grace visited on those whom his society regarded as beyond the pale, the church has consistently created filters through which only those who conform to its standards of acceptability may enter.

Jesus deliberately chooses those unable and even unwilling to conform. The church chooses those whose conformity is most nearly perfect.

If humanity is to survive Jesus’ project of a new creation is critical. A key component of that project will be the management, celebration and encouragement of people’s differences.
Further on in the story of Luke 4 we read how the people in the Synagogue took offence at Jesus’ sermon. The gist of his sermon was that the “Chosen Nation of Israel” was not so “chosen” after all. Jesus was effectively saying: “You think you’ll get into heaven because you come to church? Think again…”

Jesus’ “Good News” was bad news for this congregation. They had their insurance policies all signed and up to date but their investment was misplaced. The good news is not some ecclesiastical maze through which one may gain access to heaven. The good news is that this world can change for the good and the ones who will change it are those who don’t fit in: the poor, the oppressed, the prisoners, the wretched, the downcast, the persecuted, the children, the little ones, the disabled, the computer illiterate, the weird, the incompetent, the ignorant, the dykes, spics, niggers, hobos, the ingrate, the stupid, the fashion unconscious, the bullied, the failed, the forgotten, the god-forsaken, the last and least of these.

Dassie and Bosvark klap it again

The reference to a bike accident in my previous blog refers:

No animals were harmed in the incident but it was a close call: I couldn’t breath properly when the other driver got out his car and he wasn’t around when I got myself together again.

As to the nature of the accident: I was traveling at about 70km/h around a blind bend past Oudekraal. The silver bakkie parked on the left was doing a u-turn across the road. As I came around the corner he was placed perfectly across my lane. No hope.

I broke my pinkie. The bike’s damage was R20 000 – mostly cosmetic however.

Now begins the frustrating process of reconstruction. Yuk.