A teacher’s lament

teacher_s_lament_grandeI have hung around enough educators to know that a teacher’s lot is not always a happy one. Today’s lament in Isaiah 50:4-9a probably resonates with a few.

The teacher here is different, however. It is a collective group – the people of Israel in exile aware of their usurped role as those chosen to teach the ways of G-d to the world. Far from adopting a superior stance, their lament is couched as part of one of the four Servant Songs of Isaiah. These songs would later be appropriated by early Christians to describe Jesus as the Suffering Servant.

Is there common ground in the lament of contemporary educators, ancient exiled Israel, and Jesus of Nazareth?  Misunderstood passion, unrealised vocation, and devalued commitment might all seem to be in the mix.

Perhaps all we are meant to do this side of Good Friday is identify and engage it.

Who/what is Melchizedek?

san-vitale-basilica-ravenna-melchizedekMost readers would struggle with today’s text from Hebrews 5:5-10. Martin Luther attempted to remove the book of Hebrews (and some others) altogether!

It uses ancient Hebrew concepts, symbols and metaphors to explain the role of Christ in brokering access to G-d. If you can work through that – you come to the clincher – that, after all, Christ was “designated by God a high priest according to the order of Melchizedek.”

Who was Melchizedek? There is scant reference to him in the Hebrew scriptures. Genesis 14:18-20 introduces him as the king of Salem who offers Abram hospitality and a blessing on Abram’s epic journey. Psalm 110:4 references him in glowing terms as G-d’s high priest. That’s all we have!

So what does the tradition say? Rabbinic literature and midrash is complex, but points to natural priestly or “go-between” attributes of Melchizedek upon which the latter Hebrew priesthood is modelled.  Christian tradition points to Melchizedek as an ancient archetype of the Christ.

If one’s personal history is deeply steeped in the stories that create one’s identity, this would mean a great deal. Who is the Melchizedek in our life story that offers a pathway to understanding the role of Christ in our midst?

Welcoming the “other”

51Tnturgz6L._SX355_When Greeks in the festival crowd came looking for Jesus, the fourth Gospel describes a scene of conniptions! It seems their agent and Hellenistic namesake, Philip, part of Jesus’ inner circle, takes their petition to Andrew (arguably and anecdotally a little closer to the main man). When Jesus finally hears the request, we enter a moment strangely familiar to his response to Peter’s “Good Confession” (seen in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, but not in John). Jesus’ focus now falls on the inevitability of the crucifixion that will paradoxically introduce the fulfilment of his purpose. John’s bent for drama underlines Jesus’ devotion to this awareness with a clap of thunder and the divine voice loudly acclaiming Jesus and his Way.

Greeks in a crowd at a Hebrew festival were not unusual. Hebrew society had not escaped the universal Greek enculturation of the Mediterranean. Non-Jews were tolerated at best, but were never really “in.”  Greeks looking for Jesus were a harbinger of the Way of Christ that does not discriminate, for in Christ “there is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave nor free, for all are one …”

It would take a crucifixion, a resurrection and an outpouring of the Spirit, however, to bring about this habitual “welcome of the other.”

“Contract” of the heart

heart shapeIn these days of contractual focus and litigation, it is rare to hear of the “contract of the heart.” At least, that’s what I thought until I decided to google it and see what came up. Apparently, it is a thing! Put simply, it is a mutually agreed “code of conduct” to be exercised at senior levels of management. In the USA, it is called a “love contract.” Hard-bitten Aussies are reluctant to use such nomenclature, but (probably in the wake of high-profile public scandals) are seriously implementing it. See Contract of the Heart by Robyn Molloy

It’s not new, however. Check Jeremiah 31:31-34. He was not all doom and gloom. He envisioned the day his people would move beyond the rigour of unkeepable rules and regs and be guided instead by the contract that G-d would write on their hearts. We may have some way to go yet, but maybe the great ship of our world can still have its course corrected. All it takes is enough open hearts willing to be written on.

Age and purity …

Today’s short text from the very long Psalm 119 asks “How can young people keep their way pure?”  Apart from my instant retort that this question also applies to old fossils like yours truly, I hesitate to pontificate from a lofty platform of age and experience when I have never had to face the kinds of pressures that the generations have coming up behind me. This is underlined by a Robert Reich quote I just saw on my social media feed and which has universal application:

The moral crisis of our age has nothing to do with gay marriage or abortion; it’s insider trading, obscene CEO pay, wage theft from ordinary workers, Wall Street’s continued gambling addiction, corporate payoffs to friendly politicians, and the billionaire takeover of our democracy.

Maybe I’ll just leave this younger bloke to sing the psalm for all our edification:

 

Fading out, Fading in

fadefade 2

Change is in the wind. Transition is a process of letting go in order to grasp the new thing.

Sometimes the process is swift and decisive, leaving us reeling and wondering where to grab on to something – anything – simply to stay oriented.

Or the process can be slow, planned and deliberate. And we are still left reeling and wondering, reluctant to let go of the familiar.

Observe this phenomenon in John 3:22-30. John the Baptist has been preparing the way for Jesus of Nazareth. The time has come to pass the baton, but John’s followers are reluctant to switch allegiance. John is firm that the time has come. He must fade out in order for Jesus to fade in and set about what he has come to accomplish – their common goal.

Snakes alive!

cross1Who would have thought that John 3:16, that enigmatic slogan that appears in crowd scenes at major sporting events, behind sky-writing planes and in many references to the passing of the late Billy Graham, had much to do with this week’s discussion of a snake on a stick (here and here)?

The fourth gospel’s burden is to demonstrate the efficacy of Jesus’ presence amongst his followers. We have to cut through the ancient Hellenistic penchant for dualism, double entendre and drama to understand the link. “Belief” is not mere intellectual assent, but a relational no-holds-barred devotion and focus on the life and way revealed by Christ. Far from couching a formula for personal salvation, today’s passage goes much further and describes a Christ enabling rootedness of purposeful (eternal) life in God. It entails being “born from above” and living in the Spirit.

Moses “snake on a stick” is the event in Israel’s faith history that John appropriates to ground his otherwise abstract reflection.

Whatever happened to Moses bronze serpent?

bronze-serpentSome questions are never asked but you come across the answer anyway. Another way of putting it – “When do life-saving traditions turn sour and useless?”

Now that’s more useful. To know what happened to Moses’ artefact, read 2 Kings 18:1-8. It had long outlived its purpose and become something detrimental to the life of the nation.

The helpful question then is “What long respected tradition in our community life has outlived its purpose and, for the sake of community well-being, needs to be replaced or abandoned?”

I once served a church that prided itself on “not having any traditions.” Within a week I had identified several deep-seated ones. These are not detrimental if they are community building and life-giving. When they become life-sapping and a source of diffusion of community focus they become, not Moses’ bronze serpent, but Hezekiah’s dead snake on a stick.

So where will we start?

Snake on a stick

caduceus_largeWhen we were kids on a long road trip, we would end up complaining loudly about the time, the length of the journey, each other and life in general. The parental reaction was “If you don’t stop I’ll give you something to whinge about!”

Something like this happened in the wilderness where the Israelites wandered for forty years. They wouldn’t stop whinging about their lot. Fed up, God sent venomous snakes into the camp. There were many deaths from snake-bite, so they turned to Moses for help. God told Moses to make an image of a snake from bronze and erect it high on a pole. All people had to do was look at it when bitten and they would be safe.

There are other reasons for the image of a snake on a stick that is sometimes on our medicine bottles (see Aesculapius) .

However Christian imagery picks up this bizarre story as an image of the work of Christ on the cross (see John 3:14).  The ancient wisdom underpinning all this is to suggest that it is looking into our malady that we find our cure. It is also found in the gospel’s double entendre in that “raising Christ up” (on the cross? from the tomb?) God’s purpose for us all is accomplished.

 

Drought-time faith

Drought

Jeremiah 14:1-9 takes us into a real-time angst-ridden experience of drought where no relief is in sight. How do people pray in such circumstances?

Lay it all out as it is – don’t hold anything back. Be impolite and complain – God is not so fragile that God cannot handle it! But Jeremiah also identifies with and owns up to his people’s own transgressions – a hard ask for us in a society that abandons the common good in favour of individualistic self-interest.

Nevertheless, in spite of circumstances, a trust in God’s provision prevails.