Worldle Daily is a fun online exercise that throws up an image of somewhere on planet Earth and urges six tries to locate it using its embedded Google Earth tool. Clues in the photo generally help me to a solution within the first three attempts. Yesterday I found myself in Japan’s Nagoro Scarecrow Village, where the scarecrow-to-human ratio is 300:40.
Nagoro’s getting smaller; only 40 people left Big City’s Call and Death have left them all bereft Tsukimi Ayano has devised a populating plan; Kakashi to the rescue – for each woman, child and man.
A scarecrow for each absentee dwells on the village scene In garden, street, and bus-stop, silent presence reigns serene Each painted face and stance recalls the person gone And helps the town recall how together they are one.
The Christian world commemorates today for All the Saints Those who have gone before and who inspire without constraints It seems our village, though not so small, is larger than it seems The Cloud of Witnesses surrounding us, breathing life to all our dreams.
Prompted by the Parable of the Unjust Judge (Luke 18:1-8)
Why do they persist When those in power resist? Don’t they ever tire? Won’t anything douse their fire?
Three years now they have kept up their cry These seniors who wont let justice slip by Homes and savings have gone down the drain A preventable scandal that has caused swathes of pain.
Evictions and deaths arouse nought but acedia In spite of Senate and courtroom and media And still these old folk make loud their complaint For the Sterling home scandal yields no constraint.
The minions of ASIC hide in their tower The Havelock pollies sit on their power The bureaucrats wring their hands in dismay If only those pensioners would just go away!
The Lord tells a story of a widow distressed Pursuing a judge for fairness with zest The judge isn’t interested, but finally gives way To stop her from nagging, and call it a day.
This is why we Facebook and Twitter To do otherwise would leave us twice bitter All we seek is an earnest conversation And a just outcome with fair compensation.
So Mr Premier come out and meet us You’ve seen all the data and how it did cheat us The system needs fixing to avoid all deception But right now we look for a righteous reception.
Night light, night light, oh so bright! ‘Though my eyes are shut real tight. ‘Tis the clock on dimmest setting Yet our sleep we are not getting.
The street lamp’s out – the lane’s in gloom Diffused light once filled our room Now dark and clock light contrast more Hence our sleep becomes a chore.
They say its best to light a candle Than to curse the darkness one cannot handle The reverse applies when ’tis good to block The source of light with a well-placed sock!
Particularly those that occur when two people in disagreement appeal to a third person for support.
Specifically the one that occurred when hospitable but anxiety-ridden Martha appealed to Jesus to command Mary to leave her learning and come and help her. Jesus took Mary’s side – she had chosen the better thing and it would not be taken from her. See Luke 10:38-42. Classic triangle! Hearers have been taking sides ever since!
Those with Martha assert that she is left with all the hard work of many things. There is no help and little sympathy from the Lord on whom she had lavished such exuberant hospitality. Besides, practical down-to-earth service is necessary for the function of any enterprise.
Supporters of Mary endorse her breaking of the traditional domestic role of ceding the boon of learning and discipleship to the males of the human species. She receives the best of what Jesus has to offer and Martha can too.
Those with Jesus note how often he refused to play the arbitrator when difficult propositions were put to him. His habit was to answer a question with a question or a request for judgement with a parable. It is evident that he used this strategy, not to avoid engagement, but to draw listeners to fresh and Kingdom-inviting ways to see their situations. To chide Martha, a faithful supporter, in the way he did, seems atypical and puzzling.
Triangles can be unsettling. They can also be unifying.
Within the Christian tradition, the triangle describing the perfect union of Father, Son and Holy Spirit stands out. Ironically, it is a relationship into which all are invited.
Relationships are also a journey. The drama in the Bethany household of the two sisters can be recast as a necessary journey of the pathways to Gospel wholeness described in the Quadratos work of Alexander Shaia. Martha is on the second pathway marked by struggle through overwhelming anxiety about many things. It is typical for encounters with the divine on this pathway to be terse and confronting, but ultimately healing. Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus, is on the third pathway of peace and joy, savouring union with her Teacher. Both sisters, however, are called to be on Luke’s road of costly ministry, the fourth pathway of mature service, the overriding theme for discipleship in Luke’s gospel.
We are in the Season of the Spirit so we might expect our texts to say something about that.
One is from the Hebrew tradition, speaking of the incident in the life of Elijah that transformed his perception of how God works with us. (See 1 Kings 19:1-15)
The next story comes 1000 years later. Luke’s gospel records how Jesus and his band entered foreign territory and caused a stir, healing a madman and producing an effect in the supply and demand of the local swine economy. (See Luke 8:26-39)
Is there a link between these two stories? Both speak of interaction between the Divine and human beings going through crisis.
Is Elijah experiencing a challenge to his faith? He seems to be experiencing a dark depression despite some spectacular victories. Is Luke’s demoniac a modern-day psychiatrist’s challenge, defying all the mental health diagnostic handbook’s categories? The outcome invites further pondering of the process of the transformative ways of the Spirit.
How do we read the Bible in a way that the Bible at the same time reads us?
May the written Word now brought to us through the spoken Word bring us into fresh encounter with the living Word.
When unravelling a passage through background reading, sifting commentaries, and considering various translations, I often find it helpful to let the story speak for itself. To do this and to get out of the analytical party of my brain I give reign to some poor bush poetry. Hence, I try to enter the experience of Elijah by imagining his voice:
Old Queen Jez, she was mad at me As mad as mad could be She summoned all her hitmen To force silence for a hefty fee!
Scared, I became a fugitive And fled into the outback The black dog kept me company my fears my soul did rack.
The horrors of those forty days Defy words to describe All that I had relied upon Mocked with scorn and jibe
From somewhere within a strength came through I could not name nor muster I found myself at God’s Mountain side E’en though I was full of bluster.
For might is great when all’s on show In earthquake wind and fire But YHWH laughed when I complained That no longer did these inspire
“Your authentic self no longer needs These crutches to perform your action My still small voice joined deep within Is all you require for traction.”
God’s voice with mine joined deep within Began to sound fair dinkum To Damascus, then, did I return To set up Hazael’s kingdom.
It seems that something of an evolutionary moment in humankind’s spiritual perception occurs in this account of Elijah’s experience. Divinity was habitually encountered as something out there, encountered in spectacular natural phenomena. The shamans and prophets who could manipulate such awareness could hold contests of power. “Anything your god can do, mine can do better!”
Elijah had outwitted the priests of Jezebel and now she sought to conquer him with her political might. I suspect, however, that this is not what drove Elijah out into the wilderness in deep depression. I think it had more to do with the awareness that, as spectacular as the displays of YHWH’s power proved to be, Elijah felt empty, wasted, and abandoned.
The true power of YHWH was yet to be revealed in something that seemed to be small and inconsequential – the still small voice within.
It was revealed because Elijah was now ready. He carried the wounds of success – and he carried the wounds of failure. His voice had found a new authenticity. In it he discovered the voice of YHWH – quiet, intimate, and full of peaceful assurance. And with YHWH’s still small voice comes a new commission – Elijah is sent back to Damascus to attend to affairs of state.
In the same manner, my muse had me enter Luke’s so-called demoniac of Gerasene:
Elijah had his black dog; I had my demons One thousand of them partying, in fact, Inside my tortured mind. Not to say they didn’t entertain me, Like a thousand TV channels But to select one was beyond what I could find.
Their voices drove me crazy, my mind collapsed all hazy The demons focused on a voice without. That commanding voice outside became a quiet voice within Heard through the demons’ cacophony and shout.
The demons fled away and my mind began to stay In a place of peaceful calm and poise As I focus on the Teacher; behold I am a brand new creature My still small voice within he now employs.
For my people were afraid in spite of how it played Now that I had returned to my right mind So he told me to go home and spend time with them alone Maybe then their still small voice will find.
In my mind, a theme emerges. Elijah and the Gerasene demoniac, separated by a millennium, one a Jew, the other a Gentile, one a devoted servant of God, the other a deranged pagan, have something in common.
Both make the journey from control by some outside external source of authority to discovery and claiming of an inner authority from deep within – “clothed and in their right mind” – an inner authenticity.
Can this be the work of the Spirit?
This question enlivens me.
It takes me back to a time early in my ministry when my temperament was focused on “doing the right thing.” I was a people-pleaser, constantly looking over my shoulder to ensure I hadn’t stepped on someone’s toes. One day a mentor, stood up, looked me in the eye, pounded his fist on the desk, and shouted “Claim your authority.”
I had been lamenting a season of conflict with one or two of my church board members who had been critical of some of my actions.
“Why do you have to please your bishops?” he said.
“They aren’t bishops, we don’t have those,” I protested.
“You have made them your bishops! Claim your authority!”
That day began the journey from external to internal authenticity.
Elijah had been relying on spectacular shows to reclaim the faith of an errant Israel. Mt Horeb was a transition to inner authority that transformed him into the great prophet of note.
Luke’s demoniac of Gerasa was captive to outer chaotic forces that drove him insane. It took the presence and compassion of Christ to orientate and anchor him to the place where he, not the demonic force, was in control. Such was the claim to his inner authority and authenticity that Jesus commissioned him to stay and help transform his community through his story.
In these days following the celebration of Pentecost, these two stories perhaps provide insight into the way God, the Holy Spirit, continues to be at large amongst us. They invite us to see our life’s journey as a movement towards claiming our authentic selves in union with others and the universe of which we are part. For both Elijah and our Gerasene friend, the transformation was not just for their personal benefit, but for their respective communities.
Elijah had a big job a head of him. Israel was going to take some convincing to return to its covenant obligations.
The good citizens of Gerasa, faced with too much to comprehend and embrace in one day, begged Jesus and his band to leave them. Jesus obliged but left behind the restored man who wanted to go with him. He was restored well enough to carry Jesus’ voice to his own people. Some commentators name him the first Apostle to the Gentiles. As we ourselves come to terms with the authenticity joined to us by the still small voice, apprehended by comprehension of our creaturehood in God as Father/Creator, clarified through the teaching and example of Jesus as God’s Son, and enlivened within us by the Holy Spirit, so we too discern our daily commission in this world. The task is just as great. How shall we live in a world caught in insecurity and fear? How shall we serve? How shall we build?
We can only answer by first listening for the still small voice within.
A man in the heaving crowd on a railway station in India noticed me, the lone Caucasian on the platform.
He called out to me earnestly seeking engagement. “One!” he shouted. I looked at him quizzically. He and his young son intently returned my gaze. “One!” he asserted, pointing skywards. I returned the gesture, pointing upwards. “Yes, One!” I responded with a nod.
The pair broke into wide grins. Victory asserted over this presumed interloping Trinitarian? Or rejoicing at a fleeting moment of union with a fellow spiritual descendant of Abraham?
I, an adherent to the mystery of the Trinity, like to think the latter.
Note: the illustration is from a stock photo, not from the incident described
They say offended deity confounded those who reached so high Scrambling their common tongue and scattering them far and nigh. And now a myriad tongues and ways Blight human communication And deity quietly kept the days ’til Pentecost’s liberation.
But what if grace was behind the scene Right from the very beginning. Spirit’s plan for fecund variety Confounded by such sinning. Spirit had her way with multiply of nations Each contributing to humankind Learned wisdom from unique foundations. Thus Pentecost’s miracle clears the way Her message deep throughout the nations For all now hear her good news clear Within their own deep language
Unity in diversity is Pentecost’s new flavour Christ’s Good News binds all in one A reality to seek and savour!
Wondering Pilgrim 