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At the Table in Shiloh
November 17, 2024 © Twenty-Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
1 Samuel 1:4-20, 1 Samuel 2:1-10, Hebrews 10:11-25, Mark 13:1-8
I would like to invite you into the opening scene of our reading this morning from the First Book of Samuel. A family has come down to the Temple at Shiloh. They have come to sacrifice.
The whole family comes. The father of the family is Elkanah. And he brings with him both of his wives Peninnah and Hannah. He has two because that is just how things are done in this world. And he also brings with him his sons and his daughters, all of whom are the children of his wife Peninnah because, it seems, Hannah cannot have children.
These, together with household servants and extended family make a very large company that goes down to Shiloh. And they bring with them the young ram that they have raised all year on their little farm. This animal has been part of their family ever since its birth. They have nurtured it, taken it out to graze and kept it safe from any predators.
Rambo
They have loved this animal. The children even gave him a name. Rambo, they called him. But, at the same time, they have never forgotten that they raised this sheep for one purpose only: for this sacrifice.
It is a holy thing when this happens when a living being gives its life so that a family can eat and be strong. That is why they do it so rarely – often no more than once a year. That’s also why the animal must come to the temple. It is something to be done in a holy setting.
The Sacrifice
And so, they take the ram to the old priest, Eli, who inspects it and declares that it is healthy and fit for a sacrifice. The whole family approaches and lays their hands on the head of Rambo, giving thanks to God for this bounty and to the animal itself, as the priest draws the blade across its throat.
Later, after the priest has taken the animal and butchered it properly, the family gathers around the altar. Those parts that the family will not eat – the fat, the blood, a number of the organs and other bits – are burnt in the fire. That is how Yahweh, the God of Israel, joins the family in their feast. It creates a precious fellowship with God, making everything all the more holy.
Giving out the Portions
But then what happens? Elkanah, the patriarch of the family, is given the rest of the meat, all perfectly cut and arranged on a slab. And they take it and put it in one of the great cauldrons that are provided for the worshippers at Shiloh. They boil up the meat with various herbs and vegetables that they have brought with them to create a hearty stew.
Ah, but then comes that awkward moment. Elkanah, as patriarch, has the right to distribute the stew. After the priest has come to claim his portion as payment for safely slaughtering and butchering the meat, Elkanah takes the rest and carefully doles out the portions.
Into the bowl of his wife Peninnah, he carefully ladles one big scoop. Then he goes on down the line to his sons and his daughters and for each he measures out the same amount. Then he gives the same amount to each of the servants and workers and some extended family that have come along for the sacrifice.
Finally, he comes to Hannah. He smiles at her for a moment, but it is kind of a sad smile. There seems to be some pity in it. And then he takes out the big bowl, much larger than any of the others and places it before her. He fills it up with scoop after scoop of rich stew before finally filling up his own bowl with a similar serving.
An Emotional Table
Now, how do you feel sitting at that table? You smell the savoury broth and you long to dig in and scoop up the meat that you have been craving for months. You can hardly control yourself.
But hunger is not the only powerful feeling at the table, is it? You can practically feel the resentment seething from every person present as they cast baleful glances towards Hannah where she sits at her end of the table.
And Hannah, she is, if anything, more upset than anyone else. Large tears roll down her face as she stares at the stew before her as if it were poison. She knows she should eat it – that she needs the meat as much as anyone. It should make her stronger, healthier. Who knows, it might even make her fertile. But she doesn’t feel as if she can stomach it.
How could she when she knows that it causes Peninnah, who could be like a sister to her, to hate her? How could she when she knows that it puts a distance between her and the children whom she could love and care for in other circumstances?
And worst of all is her husband sitting right beside her who, by the look on his face, thinks that he has done a wonderful thing. “Eat up, honey, he says as he shovels the food into his mouth. It’s delicious!” She knows what he is going to say next because he says it all the time. It always makes her cringe.
“Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?”
A Dysfunctional Family
I know that the opening chapter of 1 Samuel is all about the birth of the Prophet Samuel and about how God brought it about and saved his mother Hannah from the shame and scorn of being an infertile woman. It is an amazing story full of hope and possibility.
But I don’t think you can really appreciate the good news in that story without understanding just how messed up that opening scene really is. It shows us just how dysfunctional that particular family was. But it is also a reflection of how the human family often deals badly with the challenges and problems that come with life in this world.
Peninnah
I think that many of us, for example, are like Peninnah. She is a woman who is able to do the one thing that women were valued for in that society – she can have children. And she is valued for what she can produce.
There are many people just like that. In this society, where everything seems to be measured through productivity, there are many who seem to have decided that their entire self-worth is measured by how much they earn, their place on the corporate ladder or their relative wealth.
But there are perils that come with such a way of thinking, aren’t there? Peninnah may have fulfilled her purpose as seen in that society, but she doesn’t seem particularly happy.
Indeed, we are told that she torments her husband’s other wife, Hannah. She “used to provoke her severely, to irritate her,” it says, “because the Lord had closed her womb.” Is that kind of aggression indicative of someone who has a happy, well-balanced life? Of course not.
Putting Others Down
And haven’t we all met people like that – people who seem to have achieved success as this world defines success, but they love to rub other people’s noses in it? Why? Because they are trying to make themselves feel good by putting somebody else down.
Here is a life tip for everybody. If you need to put somebody else down to feel good about yourself, there is something wrong. There is something deep inside that is making you feel inadequate.
And we know what is making Peninnah feel inadequate. What she produces may be valued, but she is not valued for who she is. She is not loved.
And how many people in the world today are caught up in that mad scramble to earn love through what they produce? And no matter what you do, no matter how good your work is, it will never be enough. Peninnah, sitting at that table, is symbolic of the flaws of a society that values productivity over everything else.
Hannah
But then there is Hannah at the table too, isn’t there? And she hardly seems better off. She has the love. Her husband claims to be devoted to her. So, what is missing for her?
She lives in a society in which women are really only given one way to contribute. And she is not able to contribute in that way. And so, though she is loved, she has been robbed of a sense of being significant.
The two women in this story are miserable because some of their most essential needs are not being met – the need for love and the need for significance. And the really odd thing about that is that they each have the one thing that the other wants most.
Looking at What Others Have
It is so easy, isn’t it, when you are struggling in yourself to look at something that somebody else has and to be jealous – to think that, if only you had what they have, your life would be okay. But the mere fact that neither of these women is okay puts a lie to that way of thinking.
The solution is rather to work on yourself – to aspire towards what is truly meaningful to you, to be sure. But it is also to recognize that the reason why you feel inadequate is not because you are inadequate but rather because the expectations that have been placed upon you are baloney. How much happier would both Peninnah and Hannah have been if they had just realized that.
Elkanah
And let us now turn to the third so-called adult at the table – Elkanah, the patriarch of the family. I’ve got to say that I am not particularly impressed with his efforts to improve anything about the whole situation. His favouritism to Hannah only sets her apart from everyone else who might give her support.
And when he says, “Am I not more to you than ten sons?” it makes me cringe so I’m sure it did Hannah too. He essentially dismisses her needs and self-centredly thinks that he can fulfill her on his own. That, let me tell you, never helps somebody who is struggling.
Dealing with the Real Issues
So what is wrong with Elkanah? Why is he such an abysmal failure at bringing peace and functionality to his family? It is because he does not deal with the real issues at the table. He does nothing to address Peninnah’s bitterness and anger – apparently thinking that, if he ignores it, it will just go away.
And when he sees Hannah’s deep sadness, he does not help her to address the unrealistic expectations that society has put upon her. He does not even bother to assure her that her worth and value are not dependent on meeting these expectations. All he does is essentially try to make her put on a smiley face by bribing her with extra portions of meat and professions of affection.
Healing the Malfunction
May I suggest that if you ever find yourself giving some leadership to a family or other group that is malfunctioning in any way, do not follow the example of Elkanah. Don’t make it all about yourself. Don’t just try to deal with the surface issues – with the appearance of things. Don’t assume that serious issues will just go away if you don’t talk about them. Dig in. Get to the heart of the matter and the real hurts and wounds that people are carrying.
I’m not saying that it will be easy. It might well feel much more uncomfortable before it starts to feel better. But it is worth the effort and the discomfort.
And so, we have three people feasting at Shiloh. None of them are happy; none of them are fulfilled. And I will bet that each one of us can find ways in which we, at some point in our lives, would have identified with at least one of them, if not all. They are a reflection of the dysfunction of this world and its ways.
Where is Hope?
And where, you should be asking me, where is the hope? The hope is found in getting past our habit of ignoring problems and hoping they’ll go away, in a willingness to get to the heart of what is really dragging people down. It is found in honest communication. And it is found in God.
When Hannah goes to God and God finally gives her the thing that she desires: a son, it is not just the end of her infertility that heals her life. It is also her encounter with a God who hears her and is willing to overturn the entire system that had subjugated her. God saves her by turning the world upside down:
“The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn. The Lord kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up. The Lord makes poor and makes rich; he brings low; he also exalts. He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honour.”
And that is where the real hope is found. That is what we celebrate in the season that is to come.
Thank you
A Dish with One Spoon
Hespeler, November 10, 2024 © Scott McAndless – Remembrance Sunday
Genesis 13:2-12, Psalm 146, Hebrews 9:24-28, Mark 12:38-44
Tomorrow at 11 o’clock we will solemnly remember an event that no living person can actually remember. It happened 106 years ago. There are maybe about half a million people alive today who are over 100 years old, but only a small fraction of them would be over 106. And of course, none of them would have been old enough to be aware of what happened on November 11, 1918.
What happened then? That was the day that the bombing and the shooting and the killing stopped following the most devastating war that the world had ever seen. And I don’t think that any of us could possibly imagine the feeling of relief that swept over people as the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month tolled and the fronts that had been filled with so much death finally fell silent.
No One Living Remembers
And you might find it odd that we still observe an armistice that no one can remember. And part of that is, I know, that the meaning of that day has transformed since then to become a day to remember those who have served in many wars that came after the “War to End All Wars.” It has become a day to pray and work for peace for all.
But I also think that it is significant that we celebrate that particular armistice and the Treaty of Versailles that codified the peace about a year later. Treaties matter; they shape our world. In fact, I would argue that the treaties of the past have had more influence on the world we live in today than the wars. And that is certainly true for the Treaty of Versailles (which was not particularly successful at ending all wars). I would suggest that we ignore treaties to our peril.
Indigenous People and Settlers
So, I would like to tell you about a treaty that you may have never heard of, but that I believe we are all called to honour today. When European settlers first came to this place, as you know, they found it to be already inhabited. That did not prevent them from claiming the land as their own possession, of course. They had this false “Doctrine of Discovery” that allowed them to dismiss the inhabitants as mere “savages.” But their first concern was not really for the possession of more than little bits of land. Their first concern was for that constant goal of Western civilization: profit.
And they definitely saw the indigenous people here as a useful tool for driving that profit. They persuaded the indigenous people to go out and use their considerable skills to extract valuable resources from the wilderness around here, most valuable of all being, of course, the furs and the pelts.
When Trouble Began
This strategy of wealth production was enormously successful. It was most successful, as always, for the European investors. But the indigenous people also did very well and were able to gain valuable trade goods, at least at first. But as also often happens, problems began to crop up. In the beginning, the resources were abundant, but the drive for profit soon began to see them dry up. Some species were pushed into extinction in easily accessible regions. This forced people to hunt and trap farther afield. It also pushed First Nations into competition with each other. It also led to environmental destruction and to war between the various nations.
I know that we are not generally very aware of these fur wars because the settler colonists weren’t really directly involved. But, like all wars, they were devastating both to the people and to the natural environment. The need for peace for all those who were involved became extremely urgent.
Settlers in Canaan
That is a part of the history of the place where we are now sitting. Well, you’re sitting and I’m standing but you get the idea. One thing that particularly strikes me about that history this morning is that it strongly parallels our reading from the Book of Genesis. It tells the story of two men who have come to the land of Canaan from far-off Mesopotamia. Their names are Abram and Lot.
And, like the colonialists who came to this place, they came to get very rich. They measured their wealth in terms of herds and cattle instead of furs, but it is basically the same old story. And just like what happened around here, they didn’t do the manual labour themselves. They hired the local indigenous population to be their herders. Indeed, the story explicitly mentions, while talking about problems among their workforce, that “at that time the Canaanites and the Perizzites lived in the land.”
The Land Could Not Support Them
But there was a problem. And it is a problem that often arises when we pursue ever-growing profits as more important than anything else. The Bible puts the problem like this: “the land could not support both of them living together because their possessions were so great.”
When we relentlessly pursue extraordinary profit, the result is often that the land cannot bear it. Natural resources begin to be stretched. And this has devastating effects on the land. In their case, the resources being stretched were not beaver and bison pelts but rather ground water and grazing land, but apart from that, the story is very much the same and, again, is as old as time!
The Treaty of Lot and Abram
And what was the result of that in old Canaan? Exactly the same as what happened here: strife and conflict – not between the wealthy men but amongst those who were working for them. “Thus strife arose between the herders of Abram’s livestock and the herders of Lot’s livestock.”
Now, to Abram and Lot’s credit, they recognized that this was a problem. Even though they were not the ones suffering, they decided to fix the problem, and they did so by creating a treaty between the two of them. It wasn’t really a treaty that solved the root problem because they just decided to separate so that they could continue to relentlessly exploit the land. But at least they did something to alleviate the suffering among their indigenous workforce.
The Strife Right Here
Things didn’t quite work out so well in this area. The lords of the fur trade, it seems, didn’t mind the strife among the various First Nations who were providing them with their furs. As good capitalists, they probably thought that the competition was good for their bottom line. And so, the strife spread.
In this area, the Mississaugas, an Anishinaabe Nation, were pushed out of their traditional territories by the Haudenosaunee and fled north and west. But then, a few years later they return in alliance with the Odawa and the Chippewa and it seemed that open war against the Haudenosaunee was inevitable – a war that would quickly spread and would be devastating to all indigenous nations.
But wisdom prevailed and a treaty was made. This treaty was not created by the wealthy fur companies like what happened in Canaan. In fact, they did not like the idea at all and never officially recognized the treaty.
A Dish with One Spoon
No, the First Nations understood that they would have to make their own peace. And they did so according to an ancient indigenous concept: a dish with one spoon. There is evidence that the idea of a dish with one spoon may be at least a thousand years old. It is one of the foundational concepts that governs Indigenous people’s relationship to the land.
Now, I am not an indigenous person, and I would not presume to speak for them. Indeed, I would love to hear more about this from native elders some day. But my pretty basic understanding is this. They see the land as being like a dish. And all the things that the land produces are there to feed and support people and animals. And everyone can have a share of that bounty.
But they recognized that, if everyone takes from the dish without limit, especially in a relentless pursuit of profit, that would not be sustainable. That’s where the one spoon comes in. Instead of everyone eating at will with their own, consumption would be limited by the need to share one spoon. It is a simple concept, but a very powerful and important one. It had been foundational to how the indigenous peoples lived on this land.
The Treaty that Shaped this Area
So, the First Nations made a treaty which they called, fittingly, the Dish With One Spoon Treaty. The treaty was formally adopted in Montreal in September of 1700. They did not sign the treaty in the European fashion. Instead it was solemnized in the traditional fashion by the creation and presentation of a wampum belt.
But even if it was adopted in Montreal, it changed everything here. It brought peace. As part of the treaty, the Mississaugas, who had claimed this land where you sit since ancient times, agreed to give up their exclusive claim and share it with all nations according to the law of the Dish with One Spoon.
I know that the world has changed a lot since 1700. About eighty years later, this land right here was given away by the British Crown to the Iroquois of the Six Nations (a Haudenosaunee people) as a part of a treaty for another war – the American War of Independance. The Crown did not own the land that it gave – it had been shared with all by the Mississaugas in the previous treaty, but apparently the crown was not concerned about that.
All Treaty People
Have you ever thought about that – that there is an incredible history of various peoples living on and relating to this land where we have our houses, do our work, and live our lives. And these treaties are a very important part of that history. I know we often only think of treaties as applying to the indigenous people. Their ancestors entered into these treaties but they are still bound by them. But our ancestors entered into them as well. Are we not also bound by them? If we live on land that was shared or given by treaty, is there not some sense in which we ought to be living according to that treaty, or at least according to the spirit of that treaty?
And yes, I know that our history has made that question very complicated, especially those parts where our ancestors did not keep the treaties that had been made. But I think that there are some very important lessons that we ought to take to heart from the story of the treaty made between Abram and Lot, and the story of the Treaty of a Dish with One Spoon. Let these treaties remind us that our relationship with the land that we live on is fragile. If we exploit it in ways that forget the dish with one spoon ideal, if our only concern is a relentless pursuit of profit, we may well find, like the two patriarchs did, that the land cannot support us.
Living as Treaty People
And the result of that is that it will lead to conflict and suffering. And who will suffer? Abram? Lot? The wealthy fur barons? No, don’t worry about them; they’ll be fine. It will be the people of the land who will suffer – the herders, the indigenous nations, the low-wage workers and ultimately the great majority of people.
I hope that the stresses we continue to put on the land through the relentless pursuit of profit will not lead to new conflicts and the need for new treaties. I just know that that is what has happened many times before. But could we perhaps avoid that eventuality by deciding to learn from the biblical treaty between Abram and Lot? And perhaps we could avoid that by learning from the treaty that saved this very land from becoming a field of slaughter over 300 years ago, by teaching us that this land is a dish and that we all need to share the spoon.
The Tale of Frail and Sickly
Hespeler, November 3, 2024 © Scott McAndless – Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
Ruth 1:1-18, Psalm 146, Hebrews 9:11-14, Mark 12:28-34
In the Book of Ruth the two sons of Naomi have rather odd names. They are named Mahlon and Chilion. These are, of course, Hebrew names, so you may not have thought much about them. But wait until I tell you what those names mean in Hebrew. Mahlon means “sickly,” and Chilion means “frail.”
Think about that for a moment. How could they have ended up with such names? What mother would name her child “sickly”? What father would choose to call his son “frail”? But these are apparently the names that they got. And, while we are imagining, think about Orpah and Ruth, meeting such men as prospective husbands. What would you think if your future spouse bore such a name? I can’t imagine that they would have been very thrilled.
Names Make Sense in the Story
So, the names do not make a lot of sense in practical terms. The names do make a great deal of sense, however, in terms of the story that is being told. They are, in fact, perfect names from the narrator’s point of view because they give a strong signal to the reader of what is going to happen to these two young men. No sooner are they introduced, and they are barely married, than they both die. Hmm, do you think that their wives should have taken their names as a bit of a warning?
So, what’s the real story behind the naming of these young men, Frail and Sickly? And, yes, I am going to just forget about their Hebrew names that no one ever remembers anyway and call them who they are: Frail and Sickly. That is, after all, basically their entire identity in this story.
There are No Accidents
Is it possible that the author of this story just made up the names of these characters – kind of like when Shakespeare created the character of Desdemona (whose name means ill fortune) in his play Othello? That does seem possible. It is generally thought that the Book of Ruth was written centuries after the original events, so maybe he had no record of their names and had to make something up.
But I usually prefer to think that, if something is there in the Bible, it’s not just there by accident. No, I prefer to think that, rather than just making a name up to cover up what he doesn’t know and is hoping we won’t notice, I think he chose these names very intentionally. Frail and Sickly are there to teach us something. But what could that lesson be?
The Period of the Judges
The Book of Ruth is a book about a major shift. The book is set, as it says in the opening words, “In the days when the judges ruled.” This was a time when the people of Israel were little more than a collection of tribes living in the land. Each tribe basically took care of their own affairs. There was nothing like a united national government.
But when the tribes were faced with something that they couldn’t handle on their own, like invaders or raiders, they would band together and a judge would be appointed to lead them, to call up the tribal militias or do whatever else was needed to counter the threat.
That was the system. It was likely not perfect, but it had allowed the tribes to maintain their independence and to survive for about as long as anyone could remember. But the Book of Ruth is not really about the tribal system. It is about the transition to something new.
The Transition to Monarchy
The book ends by telling us that its main character has a child who will become the grandfather of the great King David. This book is about the transition from a tribal to a national, monarchical government.
And major transitions like that do not come out of nowhere. People are generally conservative about such things. They know that big changes will cause much disruption and chaos, and so they tend to resist them. It takes a lot to make people want a transition.
And yet we are told in the Bible that the change to a monarchy only came because the people demanded it. The Prophet Samuel and even God warned them that the change would be costly to them, but they insisted, and so God gave them what they wanted. That’s how the story is told.
Living Through Transition
I suspect that is what the author of this book is trying to address with these two characters, Frail and Sickly. They are ancient Israelite tribesmen – Ephrathites from Bethlehem in the tribe of Judah. They represent the insular tribal past – a past that clearly had its strengths and its benefits. But the world was changing and, because the world was changing, the old institutions had become frail and sickly.
The reason why the Israelites demanded a king, we are told, was because they wanted to be “like other nations.” (1 Samuel 8:4) But you need to understand that this was not just a matter of feeling jealous of what other nations had. It had more to do with the fact that neither threats and problems nor economic opportunities could be managed by the old system anymore.
Fragile Institutions
If that is what these two characters represent, then I think it is very important for us to reflect on them. I would suggest that we are also living in times of great transition. And what often happens when you are living through transition is that you find that the institutions and leadership that were set up to manage and meet the challenges and opportunities of the way things used to be no longer quite work in the same way anymore.
Instead of being strong and robust to meet the challenges of the day, we discover that they are surprisingly frail and sickly. I realize that that is somewhat inflammatory language. But I’m not choosing that language, it comes from the author of the Book of Ruth.
We see that in our times as various institutions no longer quite seem to function as well as they once did. Political systems break down. Policing, education and financial institutions are no longer as effective as they once were. We seem to have been experiencing a lot of that kind of thing recently.
The Old Situation
But let me speak of this in terms of something we can relate to – the recent history of the church in this area. This congregation was founded and built in a very different world from the one where it finds itself today. It was built in a small industrial village. It was built at a time when the closest Presbyterian churches in places like Galt, Preston and Doon were a good 60 minutes away across country roads on horseback.
More recently, this congregation built up its strength at a time when the professional clergy drove the church. It thrived at a time when every congregation (or at least a couple of congregations together) could call and afford to pay a full-time minister who would lead the charge and set the policies. And all of our government and systems were optimized to benefit from that sort of church.
Transitions
Have you noticed that that is not really the same situation where we find ourselves today. Thanks to the construction of the world’s busiest highway right on our doorstep, distances between churches are not what they used to be. And many of those churches that are now so much closer are facing crises in terms of calling and affording ministers to lead them.
Those are just a couple of the major changes that we are dealing with as congregations. I’m sure you could name some others. But that is enough to make us realize that, if some of the systems and policies and leadership that were put in place and that led our congregations so effectively in a previous situation may not be working as well today. They may even feel a bit frail and sickly when it comes to meeting our present challenges and we have to prop them up in order to maintain the illusion that nothing needs to change.
So, I do think that the two sons of Naomi may speak to us as we live in times of transition today. But I want to be clear here that I am not saying that the church is or will necessarily become frail and sickly. It is something that may happen if we cannot let go of old patterns and old ways of organizing ourselves, but it is not our destiny; it is not inevitable.
Looking Outward
The Book of Ruth starts with evidence of the old system breaking down under the weight of a changing world. But it also shows us what we need to do about it. And the first step is clearly to move away from a narrow and insular view. When Naomi’s family can’t deal with the crisis of the moment, which comes in the form of a famine, they decide to seek for a way to cope elsewhere.
“They went into the country of Moab and remained there,” it says. And that doesn’t actually seem to make much sense at first glance if the problem they are dealing with is famine. Moab wasn’t really all that far from Judah. It seems reasonable to assume that, if there was a famine in Judah – something usually caused by a drought or some other ecological disaster like a locust swarm – the crops would have been no better in Moab.
The Advantage in Moab
So, there must have been something else, something other than the natural environment, that offered an advantage to being in Moab. What could that have been?
I think the answer to that is clear. There was something about Moab, about the people there. Certainly, there was something in the two that we meet: Orpah and Ruth. They were women of extraordinary wisdom, commitment and industry.
And, as the story continues, we discover that Ruth – who is the one who decides to return to Judah with Naomi – is more than a replacement for the two sons, Frail and Sickly, who die in Moab. She almost singlehandedly saves not only the family of Naomi but the tribe of Judah. Ultimately her decisions will save the entire nation of Israel.
How We can Look Outwards
And I believe that there is a message there for us as we navigate living through times of transition. What do we do when we find that our systems and ways of doing things don’t quite seem to be working very well in a changing world? Often the impulse is to focus back inwards on our own needs.
We turn in on ourselves and focus on our own little place of Ephrathah, on our tribe of Judah. We work harder and invest more on keeping the old systems on life support. The result is often frail and sickly institutions that aren’t up to meeting the challenges of the day. We may end up spiraling ever downwards.
The Book of Ruth teaches us to look outwards, to look to Moab. And that feels frightening. That feels dangerous. In fact, it is exactly the kind of focus that is condemned often enough in the Bible.
Foreign Women
There are several stories in the Bible about how young Hebrew men should definitely not marry foreign women including specifically women from Moab. They were feared as a dangerous, foreign influence who might bring with them ties to other gods.
And maybe there were times when that kind of approach worked for the people of Israel, but when times of transition came, this Book of Ruth makes it very clear that there was a need to change that approach. It shows us that true strength, especially in times of transition, can only come when we cast our eyes outwards and seek strength outside of our tribe.
Our Future
And I believe that that is where our moment of transition will lead us as well. I don’t know exactly what that future will look like, but I do believe that we will find it by thinking outside of the box of our own congregation. I believe we will find it by working creatively with others and sharing strengths together. This possible new connection with Knox Preston could be part of that and let us all pray for wisdom in discerning that, but even that has to be only a part of a wider vision.
I personally think that we need to find ways of thinking about our Christian ministry on a regional level – bringing congregations together in new partnerships where we share resources. We can’t afford just to think in terms of what is good for our congregation in Hespeler anymore.
And if any of our present systems are feeling frail or sickly today, above all I would not take that as a defeat or a failure on our part. It is a symptom of the transitional times in which we live. Naomi and her husband and her sons, Frail and Sickly, took a risk and found new strength for their family outside of what was familiar and comfortable. Will we have the courage to do likewise?
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He came to Jericho. He was at Jericho. He Left Jericho.
Hespeler, Oct 27, 2024 © Scott McAndless – Anniversary Sunday
Job 42:1-6, 10-17, Psalm 34:1-8, Hebrews 7:23-28, Mark 10:46-52
This is anniversary Sunday. Anniversaries are a wonderful opportunity to do three things. We look back at where we have come from. We take stock of where we are now. And we look forward to where it is we will be going from here.
I know that we often have a tendency on days like this to put a lot of emphasis on the first of those three and to celebrate our glorious past. But all three of those things are important. And honestly, the third is the most important of all.
So, I went looking in all of our lectionary readings for this morning to see if I could find something that would help us to do those three things. I finally landed on the opening words of our Gospel reading this morning. “They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho…”
Befuddling Verse
They are easy words to skip over, I realize. In between the important stories, the gospel writer seems to be taking a moment to situate us geographically. But where he situates us matters. In just a few words, he tells us where we’ve been, where we are and where we are going.
It is actually a verse that has confused and befuddled many people. It confused, for example, the author of the Gospel of Luke. Luke tells the same story of a healing of a blind man near Jericho, but in Luke’s version, it happened when Jesus was coming to Jericho. And Matthew tells the same story (though in his version there are two blind men) and according to Matthew it happened while Jesus was leaving Jericho. But Mark has this unique version of the story where he highlights where Jesus is coming from, where he is and where he is going. It speaks to us at the nexus of where we are today.
Jericho
Those words, “They came to Jericho,” actually speak volumes. Jericho was not just anyplace. If Jesus came to it on his way to Jerusalem, this was not just a random approach. Jericho was, kind of famously, the first city you encountered when you entered Judea by crossing the Jordan River. When Joshua first entered the Promised Land with the ancient children of Israel, Jericho was the first place that he defeated and conquered. Who could ever forget how “Joshua fit the Battle of Jericho and the walls came a tumbling down.”
If Jesus came to Jericho, it would have been seen as a reenactment of the conquest of the Promised Land. Don’t forget that Jesus’ name in the local language was Yeshua and that was exactly the same name that they would have used for the Old Testament hero called Joshua in Hebrew. Don’t tell me that people didn’t look at Yeshua of Nazareth and see him as a new Yeshua come to reconquer the land for God’s people.
The Baggage We Carry
Now Jesus may not have intended that – or at least he didn’t intend the kind of violent conquest that Joshua is associated with. But whether Jesus saw it that way or not, his approach to Jerusalem would have carried all of that historical baggage.
And as we celebrate our anniversary, it is important for us to take stock of some of the baggage we carry with us. We are moving out of a time when the Christian church dominated over our society. In the past of Western society, the church set the agenda when it came to defining morality, setting the calendar and even driving political issues sometimes.
Positives and Negatives
Now, to be sure, that era brought about a lot of good for society and many benefits to the church. I would certainly never say that it was all bad. But there were times when the church’s dominance led to scenes of conquest. Historically that includes episodes like the Crusades, the wars of religion and many horrors of colonialization. More recently, we have seen the church’s participation in the Residential School system and the persecution of various groups seen as deviant. These are part of the downside of that era in the church’s life.
That era, both the positives and the negatives of it, seems to be over. I know we mourn that ending in some ways. We complain about how society no longer reserves Sunday mornings for our exclusive use. We regret how the church’s positions are no longer afforded automatic respect. But we can’t go back there by just pretending that the world hasn’t changed.
When Jesus came to Jericho in our story this morning it was his last time. He was on his way to Jerusalem where he would die. And so, I would say that coming to Jericho with Jesus involves, to a certain extent, a decision to no longer live in the glorious and triumphalist past.
At Jericho
And then Mark tells us that Jesus was in Jericho. That represents the present moment. And you will note how Mark says nothing about what happened in Jericho. Certainly, the new Joshua did not bring down the walls of the city because Mark would have absolutely mentioned that. Instead, it seems that Jericho is simply a moment of transition. Jesus is trying to get his followers to find a new understanding of what it might mean to conquer the Promised Land in a new way in the name of the kingdom of God.
And we are in a time of transition in the present moment as well. There was a time when we may have thought that we could bring about the kingdom of God on earth by conquering or dominating our society. We thought we could impose our vision of a just and moral society and everyone would understand that it would make everything good. It seems that Jesus is trying to teach us a different way – a way of service and of mission.
Leaving Jericho
And that brings us to the really big question – the question of where we go from here. “As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’”
As Jesus leaves Jericho, he shows us where we go from here. Bartimaeus is somebody who wants to follow Jesus. In fact, did you know that Bartimaeus is the only person in the entire Gospel of Mark who acknowledges Jesus as the “Son of David”? This is an all-important title for Jesus in the Christian tradition. It not only acknowledges Jesus’ descent from the ancient line of kings of Israel, it is the very basis of the other most important title given to Jesus: Messiah or Christ. Son of David was a Messianic title.
An Excellent Disciple
Isn’t it ironic that Bartimaeus, who is blind, is the only one in this gospel who is able to see this significant thing about Jesus? In many ways this makes him a better potential disciple, blind as he is, than any of the twelve and just about any other character in this gospel.
But there is a problem. Despite all that would recommend this man as an excellent disciple of Jesus, he is instead treated as a nuisance and a bother. “Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’”
He is seen as an outsider and not as somebody who could belong. Now, in his case, that almost certainly has something to do with his disability. His blindness means that no one can imagine him being a vital or worthwhile part of this movement going forward.
Rebuking Ablest Attitudes
Jesus’ response to him as a person rather than as an invalid is certainly a rebuke to any of the ablest attitudes we may be tempted to carry into the future of the church. A church that fails to value everybody, in spite of whatever physical or mental or spiritual impediments may be holding them back, is a church that will not thrive in the future that God is calling us to.
But I believe that Bartimaeus has more to say about our future than that. He also represents all of those who we look at and dismiss because we don’t think that they belong.
Cultural Factors
Let’s be honest here. The Presbyterian Church in the past often based its growth on cultural factors. Do you think that it was an accident that our church membership in the past has been dominated by people who came from Scottish, Swiss, Dutch and French Huguenot backgrounds? Is it just by chance that most of our recent growth has come in the form of people from a Korean background? And is it really a big surprise that most of our congregations have been made up from people who came from roughly the same socio-economic demographic?
No, of course not. Those were the people who were made to feel as if they belonged. Anyone who didn’t quite fit in those groups often faced many hurdles that got in the way of them truly belonging to one of our churches – though God bless those who persevered and have become such vital parts of our churches over the decades.
A Strategy that Needs to Change
This was a church growth strategy that made a lot of sense at a time when those communities gave us a nearly limitless supply of people on whom we could draw to build up our churches. But a lot has changed in our society since then. That is why, if we want to see vibrant growth of our churches in the future, we need to start imagining the future of our membership now as something very different from the cultural and socio-economic past.
In the past, when somebody from any sort of different background showed up in our churches, and raised a concern or suggested something that did not fit with our past experiences of the church, what was our response? Honestly, “many sternly ordered him [or her or them] to be quiet,” saying, “we’ve never done it like that before.”
Valuing Outsiders
People did that to Bartimaeus too. And I need to reiterate that Bartimaeus was right! He had indeed seen something about Jesus that no one else had seen! That is why I know for sure that the future of our church and its vibrancy includes valuing not just people from different backgrounds and different demographics, but also those who come with different thoughts and ideas than what we have been used to.
So Bartimaeus has a lot to say to us about the future of our churches. And you will note that we haven’t even gotten to the thing that most people remember about this story – that Bartimaeus was blind, and that Jesus gave him his sight. I tend to understand that as symbolic for the future of the church as well.
Healing the Blind
Jesus’ healing of the blind is never treated as just another of his amazing miracles in the gospels. It is always symbolic of the deeper meaning of Jesus’ work. It illustrates how Jesus is the light of the world and how he has come to enlighten those who may have 20/20 vision but who stumble in the darkness nevertheless.
Bartimaeus shows us that the work of the church as we move forward is to shine the light of truth and of renewal for a world that is often mired in falsehood and willful blindness. We are to proclaim the truth of God’s love for the outsider, God’s commitment to justice for all and to live out a deep commitment to know and to live by what is true. That message is a real eye-opener. If you take it seriously, you will never see the world in quite the same way again.
We are all Bartimaeus
We are all Bartimaeus as we move on from this place and this moment in time. Jesus’ final words to him in this story are, “Go; your faith has made you well.” We must all accept that, if we move on from where we are right now as a church, we do so only by faith and in the full knowledge that Jesus is the one who makes us whole.
Jesus had given Bartimaeus permission. He could have gone anywhere from there. He could have taken the sight he had been given and resumed the life that he had known before. But he did not. “Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.”
Will we do that? Will we follow Jesus into the future to which he calls us? Let us follow with faith, hope and love.
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Why do you call me good?
Hespeler, October 13, 2024 © Scott McAndless – Thanksgiving Sunday
Amos 5:6-7, 10-15, Psalm 90:12-17, Hebrews 4:12-16, Mark 10:17-31
There is a question that Jesus wants to ask us all this morning. It is a simple question, but it really gets to the heart of the matter. The question is, “Why do you call me good?”
I have noticed that people don’t often take the trouble to ask that question. Instead, they start with it as an assumption. Of course, Jesus is good! Even people who have trouble with the church or with Christian teachings know that. They may not admire Jesus’ people, or at least some of them, but they don’t question for a moment the essential goodness of Jesus!
Jesus’ First Response
But did you notice that that was the very first thing that Jesus felt he had to challenge somebody on when “a man ran up and knelt before him and asked him, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’” He didn’t engage with the man as a potential disciple despite the extreme devotion that he had displayed. He didn’t even attempt to tackle the thorny question that the man was asking. Or at least he didn’t attempt it until he had first cleared the air on the assumption that the man was making – an assumption he may not have even been aware of: that Jesus was good.
The full response of Jesus is this: “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” And I realize that people often get hung up on the second part of that. When you pull those two sentences out of their context, it makes it seem as if Jesus is here denying any sense of his own divinity by speaking of a sharp divide between himself and God.
A Shift to the Law
But that is not actually the concern behind Jesus’ response as he makes clear by immediately shifting the conversation to the law: “You know the commandments:” he says, “‘You shall not murder. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not steal. You shall not bear false witness. You shall not defraud. Honour your father and mother.’”
This makes it clear what he meant by his response. He is saying that God has already told this man what is good in the commandments, so why is he looking for Jesus to tell him? If he is not going to listen to God, why would he listen to Jesus?
Ah, but the man insists, he has listened to God. He has lived according to the commandments. “Teacher,” he insists, “I have kept all these since my youth.” And I know that this might sound a bit boastful to us, but this fits with the common understanding of the Old Testament law at the time.
The Goodness of the Law
The law was not generally seen as a list of obligations that you had to follow down to the letter and if you slipped up on some minor requirement you were doomed. They understood the law as a set of guidelines that you could follow and that were meant to guide you in a good life. The issue was not perfection in your observation of the details, the goal was to live a good life according to God’s guidance.
And so, this man is insisting that he has found and lived according to the goodness that God has offered him. He has come to Jesus because he believes that this teacher is good and can lead him to a deeper and richer goodness. He is, in fact, doubling down on his assertion that Jesus is good.
Jesus Loved Him
And did you note Jesus’ response to that? “Jesus, looking at him, loved him.” He honours what this man is aspiring to – this greater goodness and deeper understanding of God’s kingdom. And, for one brief moment, the two of them are completely on the same wavelength both searching for what is truly good.
And then what happens? Everything absolutely falls apart. Just moments later this young man leaves Jesus in a state of shock and grief. It seems as if something has suddenly gone very wrong. It turns out that Jesus’ question was very apt because the man has decided that Jesus is, in fact, not very good.
One Thing More
So, what has gone wrong here? What has Jesus said to change this man’s opinion so drastically? He has told him that there is one thing more that he can do to expand on the goodness that God asks for in the law. “You lack one thing;” Jesus says, “go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
Now, on one level this advice is not at odds with the teaching of the law. The law of Moses clearly teaches that one should not covet, should not be overly attached to earthly wealth. The law also strongly encourages and even requires giving to those who are poor. But there is one thing in what Jesus demands that exceeds the requirements of the law.
Why the Law did not Require This
Jesus asks the man to sell everything he has, to completely divest himself of all earthly possessions in order to support the poor. And that was something that the law never demanded. It did not do so for a particular reason.
It was not because there was some inherent goodness in wealth and possessions. It was only because it was generally understood that you had to think beyond your own needs. Since you had people depending on you, your family and household in particular, you couldn’t divest yourself of everything, not even for the good reason of supporting those who are poor.
So, it is actually no wonder that this man is shocked by what Jesus says. The good that Jesus demands, the good that exceeds the requirements of God’s law, is actually something that appears to destroy the very basis of morality of his society, his obligation to family. If he gave away all of those possessions, he could no longer fulfill that obligation. The goodness that Jesus asks for, is clearly at odds with the ethical requirements of that society.
What the Disciples have Given up
That is something that is made crystal clear at the end of the passage. When Peter talks about how the disciples left everything to follow him, Jesus confirms that they have left behind house and brothers and sisters and mother and father and children and fields.
They have abandoned all of the things that created the kinds of obligations that required them to keep possessions. They can therefore do what the young man cannot. But we should not miss the fact that that means that they have abandoned the very foundation of what it usually meant to be good people in that society.
So, you see what I mean when I say that the fundamental question in this story is “Why do you call me good?” Jesus goes out of his way to demonstrate that he is in fact not good according to the standard ways of judging goodness in that society. No wonder he is so surprised that someone assumes his goodness.
Jesus’ Question for Us
And that brings me to the question that Jesus is asking you and me and all Christians today. It is unsurprisingly the same question: “Why do you call me good?”
The world is full of people who identify themselves as followers of Christ – who call Jesus good – and yet are completely caught up in the systems of this world, systems that Jesus’ very existence calls into question.
The Capitalist System
For example, we all live within an economic system called capitalism. It is a system, there is no question, that has the potential of doing a lot of good. It creates wealth and wealth can do good things. It encourages and rewards creativity and innovation. It creates employment which allows people to live.
We are also aware of some of the shortcomings of this system. It tends to create abundantly more wealth for some than others. It has a tendency to create entities that become so powerful that they dominate markets in ways that prevent anyone else from profiting from their innovation and creativity.
But, with all the good and all the bad, that is the system that we live with. And we are all aware that, should the system fall apart, the results would likely be catastrophic for everybody. So, we all exist in this system.
As believers who live within such a system, what do we do each Sunday and in our prayers and devotions? We come to Jesus in a spirit of thankfulness for all that we have and we say, “Good teacher, what shall we do in this world?”
Jesus’ Disruption
And do you know what Jesus replies: He says, “Why do you call me good? Don’t you know that I have come to disrupt this very system that you live in? Don’t you know that I have come so that “many who are first will be last, and the last will be first”?
Didn’t you hear it when my mother proclaimed that my birth meant that, “he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.” (Luke 1:53) And remember when I said, “Blessed are you who are poor,” but “But woe to you who are rich,” and “Blessed are you who are hungry now,” but “Woe to you who are full now.” (Luke 6:20-25)
If we are so invested in the economic system that we live in that we are not willing to see it disrupted, all I am saying is that maybe we had better think twice before we call Jesus good.
Supremacist Views
We seem to be encountering more and more people these days who call Jesus a good teacher and yet are totally committed to racist or supremacist views. Christian nationalism is on the rise. We see it most openly in the United States. But we ought not to pretend that it is not growing here in Canada too.
And I know that Christian nationalism can take many forms. Perhaps some are simply trying to do their best to be patriotic while they hold onto their faith. But in some of the more toxic forms, it has been expressing itself in extreme racism – demonizing immigrants and enforcing a social order in which straight white Christian men dominate every part of society. And such people do invoke Jesus and say, “Good teacher, what must we do to protect our White culture?”
Teachings About Strangers
And Jesus asks, “Why do you call me good? You know the law, it is clear. It says “You shall not oppress a resident alien; you know the heart of an alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 23:9) And you know that I have said, “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” (Matthew 25:35)
“If you are a Christian nationalist, you need to understand that if you call me good, you will have to accept that I am going to make you question all of the things that make you feel superior to others and maybe the things that make you feel safe. Know that, if you call me good, you may leave our interview shocked and grieving.”
The Real Question
So, you see, “Why do you call me good?” is the real question, the most important one. If we are going to follow Jesus, we can’t just follow him on our own terms. Jesus will always insist that we must follow him on his terms. And those terms will necessarily call into question the moral systems that we have accepted uncritically. They will challenge our assumptions about the systems by which our world works. They will definitely challenge our prejudices and racial pride.
If we are not careful, Jesus will absolutely shock us and send us away grieving. But here is the secret that I want you to hold onto. Jesus is good. And if he challenges us and shocks us, it is because he cares for us and wants us to grow. That is the good news about Jesus.