On choosing a team to follow in the football (if you don't happen to have one already)

Well, it's football season again here in Australia.

Now there are six ... or seven ... or six-and-a-half codes of football played around the world.  Each is known simply as "football" among its enthusiasts, and within the area where it's the prevalent code.  The various codes are: 

• Association Football, or Soccer, the world's most popular football code, played in most countries of the world, either as the main football code, or alongside other football codes,
• American Football, or Gridiron, the main professional code played in the United States and Canada,
• Gaelic Football, the main code played in the Republic of Ireland and also played socially by Irish expats elsewhere,
• Rugby Union, the main code in Wales, South Africa, New Zealand, and many Pacific nations, also played alongside other codes in many other countries,
• Rugby League, not as popular globally as Rugby Union, but the main professional code in parts of Australia (New South Wales, Queensland, and the Australian Capital Territory), and
• Australian Rules Football, the main professional code played in the rest of Australia.

There's also International Rules, a hybrid of Gaelic and Australian Rules, developed so that top Irish and Australian players can play each other as national teams every two or three years or so, when the promoters can be bothered to organise a tour.

Here in Australia, we play almost every code (except for Gridiron and Gaelic) at a high level.  And it's getting to the time of year when Australia's two main professional codes (Australian Rules and Rugby League) are beginning their seasons for this year.

Now, for people who live in Australia (and particularly in those parts of Australia where Australian Rules is the main football code), it's essential to have a team, even if you're not all that interested in footy.  (While all the football codes can be called "football", the term "footy" only properly applies to Australian Rules.)  

The rest of this post is about Australian Rules (Aussie Rules, AFL,
"footy", ...) rather than about the whole range of football codes.

Developing an attachment to a team is a important rite of passage in Australia. 

• For a young person, having a team of your own choice - preferably one that's not the same as the team(s) followed by one's parents - is a sign of having grown up. 
• For a recent migrant, choosing a team to support is a sign of having confidently become at home in your new land. 

If you declare yourself to be "not all that interested in football", you're bound to find yourself involved in long conversations about football with footy enthusiasts trying to convert you. 

This is similar to a person who calls her/himself either an atheist or an agnostic and finds him/herself involved in many long religious discussions.  For example, it's easier (if you're not really all that religious but don't want to talk about it) to describe yourself as "Church of England" (unless you live in England), or as "Methodist" (unless you live somewhere - i.e., anywhere other than Australia or Canada - where there actually is a Methodist Church), or merely as "Protestant" (but without naming an actual denomination).  Each of these descriptions carries the notion of "not all that religious", but is less likely to invite unwanted discussions with the intent of proselytisation than the more provocative labels of "atheist" or "agnostic".    

Similarly, re football, rather than being openly uninterested in football, it's better to "bite the bullet" and choose one of the teams in the league as your team to support.  But, if you don't want to be involved in too many footy-related conversations, choose a team that doesn't invite too much attention. 

Now, you don't actually have to watch a game to do this.  The important thing - particularly in the areas that follow Aussie Rules - is to identify with a team.  And the fact that you want the team to win doesn't mean you actually have to watch their matches.  (Occasionally watching the final 10 to 15 minutes of a game may help.) 

Here's a few hints in choosing a team to follow.

Don't choose a team that's been among the top three or four teams in the AFL in the last few years, and expects to perform similarly this year.  Whether they do well or poorly this year, it will involve you in more football-related conversations than you'd want.

Similarly, and for the same reasons, don't choose a team that's been consistently among the two or three worst teams.

Also, don't pick a team that's been involved in a scandal (sex, drugs, gambling, stupid comments by players that were picked up in the media, etc., etc.) in the last few years.  You'll be called on to defend your team, even if you haven't a clue what the scandal's about.

If you live in Tasmania or Victoria, choose one of the Victorian teams, or a team that used to be a Victorian team.  Otherwise, you'll get a lot of "And why do you support the Dockers?"

Finally, don't choose a team with a lot of anti-fans.  If a team has a lot of people who say about them, "I don't care who wins, as long as X loses", don't choose X as your team.  It's usually far less about the team's players than it is about the attitude problems of the team's fans. 

If you can help it, you definitely don't want to be seen as a X fan, with all the implications this has in terms of your character.  You particularly don't want to be seen as an X fan if you want to avoid long, drawn-out discussions of football during breaks at work, with either passionate X fans or passionate X anti-fans.  (OK, OK, I'm talking about Collingwood, Carlton, and Hawthorn here.)

So basically, choose a team that's been playing neither too well nor too badly, with a present or past base in Victoria, with no recent scandals, not too many offensive fans, and almost no anti-fans.  Let all and sundry know that you're a proud supporter of said nondescript team, and you won't be plagued by lengthy lunch-hour discussions of the weekend's matches.  (Unless you're really unlucky, and your team starts doing well.)

“From little things, big things grow”: a sermon (John 12:20-33)

"From little things, big things grow.”

John tells us of a group of Greeks who came to Jerusalem for Passover, and who wanted to see Jesus.  At, first, we may think it’s a bit odd that, being Greeks and not Jews, they were in Jerusalem for the Passover festival. 

Actually, we don’t know if these Greeks were Jewish or not.  There are three possibilities here.

Firstly, these “Greeks” could have been Jews whose families lived for so long in a Greek context that these people now spoke Greek as their first language and had some Greek cultural habits.  Religiously, however, they were still Jews.

Secondly, these “Greeks” may have been Greek gentiles who converted to the Jewish faith.  Even though the Jewish faith today makes it very hard for people to convert to Judaism, and most rabbis today usually tell any prospective converts to give their own faith more of a fair go before asking about conversion, the Jewish faith in those days was much more apt to encourage gentiles to convert.

Or finally, these “Greeks” may have been members of the group called “God-fearers” in the Book of Acts:  gentiles who were attracted by the faith and by the ethics of the Jews.  They worshipped in the local synagogues with the Jews and tried to live as Jewishly as possible, but never formally converted to Judaism, largely because the formal conversion involved a rather painful procedure for the blokes.  Many of Paul’s first gentile converts in any Greek city were from this group of “God-fearers”.   

We’re not really sure who these “Greeks” were, but there they were in Jerusalem for the Passover. 

And they wanted to meet Jesus.

They told one of Jesus’ disciples.  Being Greeks, it was interesting they first went up to one of the disciples with a Greek name, Philip.  (Perhaps they thought that someone with a Greek name would be sympathetic to them.)  They said, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus”. 

Philip consulted with Andrew (or, as he was called in Greek, Andreas).  Interestingly, here was another disciple with a Greek-sounding name brought into the scene.  Together they went to see Jesus with the request.

John’s gospel doesn’t tell us what happened when Jesus met the Greeks.  John doesn’t even tell us whether Jesus met the Greeks or not.  I assume that Jesus met the Greeks, but John doesn’t actually tell us.

John does tell us about Jesus’ reaction.  He spoke about how it was the time for him to draw all people to himself.  His message was making its first step from one little corner of the world to a much broader, global stage.

But just before he said that, Jesus used an image from farming to speak of his work.  A bit of grain looks pretty lifeless; but ... if it is planted in the ground and “dies”, it becomes a plant with much more grain on it.  It’s like the song by Paul Kelly, “From little things, big things grow.”

It is interesting that Jesus compared himself to the grain being planted and growing.  The piece of grain lost its own separate identity as a piece of grain to become the source of a new plant, bearing much more grain ... much more food ... many more grains that would be planted and be the source of even more grain ... and so it goes on.  “From little things, big things grow.”

Jesus used this idea to explain what was about to happen to him.  He would die.  He would be raised from death.  In his dying and in his being raised, he would be the source of renewed life for humanity, and for creation. “From little things, big things grow.”

In Australia and elsewhere in the Southern Hemisphere, Lent, Holy Week, and Easter take place during autumn.  The springtime images we find in so many Easter hymns and Easter songs from Europe or North America don’t make sense here.  We can’t easily use images of spring flowers for the risen Christ when leaves are changing colours, and dropping from the trees.

Instead, we live in a place where Lent, Holy Week, and Easter are in autumn, during the time of harvest, at a time when the earth produces food.  Thus, we can speak of:

·         the crucified-and-risen Christ who nourishes his people in the sacrament of Holy Communion,

·         the crucified-and-risen Christ who becomes the source of life for all life.

We begin Holy Week next Sunday.   At this time, we give thanks to the Living God that the crucified-and-risen Christ continues to give himself as the first fruits of God’s harvest of humanity, God’s harvest for all life to enjoy.

“From little things, big things grow.”

The time Jesus got really annoyed: a sermon (John 2:13-22)

In the temple … [Jesus] found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” 

 

This passage of scripture, which we find in all four gospels, in one way or another, shows us that Jesus was not afraid to show his anger, at least if there was something worth getting angry about. The event we traditionally call “The Cleansing of the Temple” is found in all four gospels. Not many incidents in Jesus’ life are included in all four gospels. For the most part, the events that were included in all four gospels were particularly important ones, important enough for four different writers to include them in gospels written for very different audiences.

There are two main differences between John’s version of this event and the other gospels.

While the other gospels have the Cleansing of the Temple take place in week before the crucifixion, John has it take place at the beginning of Jesus’ public life, just after the wedding at Cana and just before his midnight conversation with Nicodemus.   

• For the other gospel writers, this event is an element in the growing conflict between Jesus and the establishment.  
• For John, the Cleansing of the Temple is an event that sets the tone for Jesus’ public life. Perhaps, if we were using current management jargon, we’d say the Cleansing of the Temple was part of Jesus’ “mission statement”.

 

The other difference is in a detail that John mentions and the other gospel writers do not: Not only does Jesus overturn the tables of the moneychangers, but he also chases the animals out of the Temple.  The question then needs to be put: “Why did Jesus cause a cattle stampede in the midst of a place of public worship?”

 

And I believe there were two reasons why:

• One reason was because of Jesus did not see animal sacrifice as an appropriate way to worship God.
• The second reason was because Jesus did not want to stop the poor from worshipping God.

Jesus and the animals

 

On the one hand, Jesus did not see animal sacrifice as an appropriate way to worship God.

 

Like many places of worship in the ancient world, the worship at the Temple in Jerusalem was centered on animal sacrifice. This wasn’t just a Jewish thing. The Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Greeks, the Romans, all did the same thing. When they worshipped their gods, they all sacrificed animals as a major part of the worship.

 

Interestingly, we hear strong criticisms of the practice of animal sacrifice by many of the Old Testament prophets, centuries before the time of Jesus. For example, we hear in one passage from Micah:

 

With what shall I come before the Lord,

and bow myself before God on high?

Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,

with calves a year old?

Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,

with ten thousands of rivers of oil? …

He has told you, O mortal, what is good;

and what does the Lord require of you

but to do justice, and to love kindness,

and to walk humbly with your God?

 

Centuries later, by the time of Jesus, this debate was still actively going on among the Jews. The question was: “Should religion focus on sacrifice, or should it focus on prayer, study, and ethical living?” The two main factions of Pharisees and Saduccees took opposing views in this question. The Saduccees advocated sacrfices, while the Pharisees promoted a religion of prayer, study, and ethical living.

 

The question was pretty much settled after the Romans destroyed the Temple a few decades after the time of Jesus. While the Jews lamented the destruction of the Temple itself (and still do), the end of the actual sacrifices occasioned very little regret. They were ready to move on from a religion focused on sacrifice to one focused on prayer, study, and ethical living.

 

And there’s no prizes for guessing which side of this debate Jesus was on. Throughout his life, Jesus demonstrated the overflowing compassion of God, and the slaughter of animals as part of an act of worship would have clearly disgusted him. And so he chased the animals out of the Temple. At least these animals would not have their lives wasted.

 

Jesus and the poor

 

And also, on the other hand, Jesus did not want to stop the poor from worshipping God.

 

Buying the animals for the sacrifices was expensive. Many poor people could not afford to buy the sacrificial animals. Even without the cruelty involved in animal sacrifice, Jesus would have been offended by the injustice of any attitude that implied that any person’s standing before God was based on their ability to pay.

 

Jesus expressed his concern that poor should have the same access to God as the wealthy in another incident in the Temple, told both by Mark and by Luke, the story of the “Widow’s Mite”. People – mostly wealthy people - were queueing up to give cash offerings to the Temple. A poor widow put two little copper coins into the offering box. Jesus then said:

 

“Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them; for all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on.”

 

Now, I don’t believe that Jesus saw this as a good thing, that the widow gave all she had to the offering box. There was no “Go and do likewise” or anything like that. I believe that Jesus spoke these words with a profound sadness, a sadness that the widow felt the need to give her week’s food money to the Temple:

 

“ … she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on.”

 

Those were sad-sounding words. They weren’t words that said “OK, people, everyone should imitate that. Go and do likewise.”

 

The sadness in Jesus’ words also implied a strong criticism of anyone who encouraged any poor person to think she needed to give so excessively. I like to think that Jesus also sent one of the disciples to follow her and give her some money with the instructions “That’s not for the Temple. That’s so you can eat.” 

 

Perhaps the sombre sadness that Jesus seems to have felt when confronted by the Widow’s Mite was also expressed by much more turbulent emotions on that day when Jesus’ concern for the poor and his revulsion over animal sacrifice collided. On that day, the day of the Cleansing of the Temple, Jesus got really annoyed and caused a cattle stampede in the midst of a place of public worship.

 

May we be enabled to share his compassion for all God’s creatures, his commitment to social justice for all people, and his conviction that no one shall be made to feel “second-class” in God’s presence.

“... Wild beasts and angels ...”: a sermon for the first Sunday of Lent (Genesis 9:8-17, Mark 1:9-15)

"And the Spirit immediately drove ... [Jesus] ... out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him."

 

The story of the temptation of Jesus as we find it in Mark’s gospel is very brief. Luke and Matthew add a bit more dramatic detail. They develop a conversation between Jesus and his temptations. Mark, however, doesn’t go in for embellishment here. He tells the story briefly and straightforwardly:

 

"And the Spirit immediately drove ... [Jesus] ... out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him."

 

And that was it:  

• no dialogue about stones turning into bread; 
• no reckless dare of “Are you chicken to jump?”; 
• no invitation to changes sides; 
• no detail at all; 
• just the cold, hard reality of temptation.

Let’s look more closely at our passage. 

 

“And the Spirit immediately drove ... [Jesus] ... out into the wilderness. …”

 

Mark tells us that it was the Spirit of God that led, in fact, that “drove” Jesus into the wilderness, to the place of temptation. This is very disturbing. On the one hand, we’ve all been taught - as least I hope we’ve been taught - that we can’t blame God for human misfortune.  

• We’ve been taught, or at least we should have been, that illness is not God’s will.  
• Mainstream Christian churches teach that God does not will natural disasters, even if insurance companies try to blame God for disasters by blasphemously referring to these events as “acts of god”.
• And the Christian faith teaches us that God does not lead us into sin or into the temptation to sin. (We pray “Lead us not into temptation”, as a joyful affirmation that this is something God will never do.)

So where does Mark get off by saying that the Spirit “drove” Jesus to the place of temptation? I guess the traditional theological answer for this is found in the understanding that Jesus was radically different from you and I. Jesus, as God linked to humanity, needed to encounter and defeat temptation, just as he needed to encounter and defeat death. We, then, live in the light of Jesus’ victory. Many contemporary Christians still struggle with this answer, but I need to say that this is what the Christian church has said over the years.

Another point, just briefly, we need to remember that the word “wilderness” means something different in the Bible than it does for us in this part of the world today. We think of wilderness as something beautiful and inviting, a place of diverse life and lush growth, a place worth exploring, and a place worth protecting: such as large areas of Tasmania, and large areas of New Zealand. For many of us, the wilderness is a place where people experience their spirituality in a heightened sense.

However, the “wilderness” that the biblical writers refer to was a desert, the deepest part of the desert. It was a place that was popularly regarded as almost lifeless. It was seen by many as a place where God was profoundly absent. So, for Jesus to go into the wilderness, it wasn’t for an enjoyable - if challenging - bushwalk. It was much more.

"And the Spirit immediately drove ... [Jesus] ... out into the wilderness. ... He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; ...”

About the “forty days”, the people who wrote the Bible liked to play with numbers. Forty always means a time of testing. For example, the Jews wandered around in the desert for forty years after they left Egypt. Whether Jesus was in the wilderness literally for forty days or not, the important thing was that his time in the wilderness was a time of testing.

Another problem is in the identification of “Satan” as the source of temptation. While many Christians believe in the literal existence of a “Satan”. I personally believe that “Satan” is a symbol of our own human tendency to say “No” to God’s call. In my experience, my own tendency to say “No” to God’s call is devil enough for me.

But whether the temptations came from an external source or not, Jesus was in the wilderness experiencing temptation - and the temptations were real.

“... He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; ... and he was with the wild beasts; ...”

Now this has a strange sound. “... He was with the wild beasts ...”. It almost sounds as if this was part of the hardship of the temptation, doesn’t it. At least that’s what I thought. But I was wrong. I checked this out in a couple of commentaries. It seems as if the wild beasts were a sign of hope: Jesus being present in the wilderness with all the animals. It’s evidently a reference to Isaiah’s image of peace reigning among the animals as a result of the reign of the Messiah. 

 The wolf shall live with the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a little child shall lead them.
The cow and the bear shall graze,
their young shall lie down together;
and the lion eat straw like the ox.
The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,
and the weaned child shall put its hand
on the adder’s den.
They will not hurt or destroy
on all my holy mountain;
for the earth shall be full of the knowledge
of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.

 
 The classic illustration of this passage was in a series of paintings by Edward Hicks, an American Quaker artist of the early 19th century, showing a variety of animals, both the hunters and the hunted, resting contentedly in each others’ presence.

The wild beasts are a sign of the greater unity that Christ was bringing about, a unity that can even incorporate the world of non-human nature. This is a promise that the Christian church has been slow to grasp over the centuries, but it is part of the faith we have inherited.

We hear a glimpse of this in the old Jewish Dreaming story of the Great Flood, about God’s rainbow covenant with humanity and with creation. God promised protection both to humanity and to the non-human creation. The rainbow was the sign of God’s promise to “every living creature of all flesh”.

Both the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament point us in the direction of God calling us to see our life in closer relation to the world around us.

"... and he was with the wild beasts; ... and the angels waited on him....”

This again, is an interesting image. Previously, when reading this passage, I had the impression that the reference to the angels waiting on Jesus spoke of something that happened after the temptation. Jesus endured his temptation and, thus, - as a reward for his endurance - the angels came and waited on him.

But the lesson doesn’t say this. The three things that happened to Jesus in the wilderness; the temptation, being with the wild beasts, and the angels waiting on him: there is no indication that they happened in any particular order.

I believe that the three things happened at the same time.  

• While Jesus was being tempted, he was in the presence of the wild beasts.
• While Jesus was in the presence of the wild beasts, angels were waiting on him. (and, most importantly)
• While Jesus was being tempted, angels were waiting on him.

Perhaps - just perhaps - this may be why the Spirit “drove” Jesus into the place of temptation:

• so that Jesus could experience the five-star service of the waiting angels that accompanied his temptation;
• so that we also can know that, even in the midst of the deepest temptations, the hospitality of God’s angels (both mortal and otherwise) will sustain us.

“... and the angels waited on him....”

Jesus endured his temptation and set out on the road that eventually led to Calvary. During this season of Lent, may we follow where Christ leads, so that we may pass through the pain of the cross to the celebration of Easter morning.

"And the Spirit immediately drove ... [Jesus] ... out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him."

"Are we 'done' yet?"

A few months ago, I read an article by a writer named Thom Schultz on "The Rise of the Dones".    A number of my colleagues have also read this article, shared it, and commented upon it on social media.

The basic premise of Schultz's article is that there is a group of people leaving active involvement in their congregations (and active involvement in the Christian church generally) who haven't lost their faith, who haven't changed either their religion or their denomination, who are not actively alienated from their congregation or their denomination, and who are not leaving their church as a result of a dispute of any sort.

They have a great deal of continuing good will for their churches, but they're merely moving on.  They are "done" with the church, as in the phrase "Been there, done that."  They are not alienated, really, from their churches but they are "done" with their churches.

I have many friends and acquaintances who are "dones".

• Most are Christians.  Some are members of other faiths.
• The Christians come from a wide variety of denominations, but the ones I know are more likely to be from middle-of-the-road "Protestant" denominations than other backgrounds.  
• They were active in their churches (both locally and sometimes denominationally and ecumenically), serving on committees, singing in choirs, leading youth groups, and all that.

But now they're done.

I believe that a big part of the issue, here, is the fact that so many churches, particularly among the middle-of-the-road "Protestant" denominations (i.e., Uniting Church in Australia, United Church of Canada, Methodist, Presbyterian, and Congregationalist churches in other countries ....), so many churches operate from a strongly "teaching-learning" model for the times the congregation gathers for worship. 

In today's world, if a person wishes to attend a worship service in a church (or other faith community), it's not because she/he wishes to learn things about religion.  People attend worship because they wish to experience the Sacred, because they wish to encounter the God worshipped by the faith community.  In my experience, the churches which are declining the fastest are also the churches that are the most wedded to the teaching-learning model for church life, and this applies to congregations of a variety of theologies and worship styles.

A congregation can be so conservative in its faith as to be almost "fundamentalist", so "progressive" in its faith as to be almost agnostic in any practical terms, or (preferably) somewhere in the middle.  If there is nothing more in its Sunday morning gathering than a teaching-learning event under the guise of worship, that church is probably producing more than its share of "Dones".  This applies whether the teaching-learning gathering takes the form of a 1950s "preaching service", a 1970s "all-age family service", or a 1990s "fresh expression".

Part of the issue is that, even though our learning never ends, our schooling does end.  People transition from Kindergarten to Primary School, from their Secondary Education to University.  But whether you're a high school drop-out or a PhD, we all conclude our formal schooling at some time in our lives.  Churches with a strong teaching-learning model for what happens on Sunday morning will produce plenty of "church drop-outs" and "church graduates".  Many of these will continue to view their former church with great affection, returning for major celebrations in the same way that they would attend a high school or college reunion.

I believe that the way to prevent good church members from becoming "Dones" is to ensure that there is far more in their Sunday service than merely teaching and learning, and a greater opportunity to actually encounter God.   For some denominations such as the Uniting Church (for example), this could mean that some of their congregations "feel" Russian Orthodox while neighbouring congregations may "feel" Quaker or Pentecostal.  If that's the case, I think this may be a good thing.

Making allowances for another’s conscience: a sermon (1st Corinthians 8:1–13)

Paul had many headaches as a result of the people of Corinth.  The Corinthians were definitely his “problem congregation”.
·        If they weren’t suing each other over trivial matters, they were having messy love affairs with each other.
·        If they weren’t having messy affairs, they were fighting over trivial theological issues, such as “speaking in tongues”.
·        If they weren’t fighting over theological trivia, they were getting drunk in church … during the communion service no less.
·        If they weren’t getting drunk in church, they were … suing each other … and so it went.
And all of that can be found in just a simple reading of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians.

Over the centuries, Christian art has generally depicted Paul as being a bald-headed man whose remaining hair was grey, if not white.  I wonder if he had a full head of jet-black hair before he met the Corinthians.

But still, the tone of Paul’s letters to the Corinthians, even when he was chewing them out, showed a real affection for the people of Corinth.  I think it’s similar to the way that many teachers’ favourite ex-pupils are the ones who were actually the most irritating at the time when they were in the teacher’s class.

One of the arguments Paul had to settle among the Corinthians was over the issue of meat that was consecrated to idols.  Now this would be a non-issue for us, but it was a live issue for the Christians of Corinth.

Most of us do not have problems with the use of religious imagery, whether we share the beliefs associated with the imagery or not.  Most of us appreciate the spirituality and the love associated with the use of a physical image of faith, whether the image is:
·        a statue of the Buddha in a Thai temple or a statue of Mary by the side of an Irish road;
·        a St. Christopher medallion or a picture of Ganesh on the dashboard of the taxi taking you to the airport;
·        a mezuzah or a Russian Orthodox icon greeting you at your neighbour’s front door;
·        a photo of the Pope or of the Dalai Lama in the waiting room of your GP;
·        a hijab worn by a Muslim woman, a yarmulke worn by a Jewish man, or a veil worn by a nun.

In our situation, we can welcome and celebrate these visual demonstrations of faith commitment as signs of faith, hope, and love in the midst of a world desperately needing these qualities.  And even those of us whose spiritualities encourage a certain restraint in the physical depiction of the sacred can – or, at least, should - respect the devotional practices of others … even when the devotional practices of others lead to what you or I may regard as religious kitsch.

As well, we know today that the divine is one.  So that:

·        when a Buddhist or a Hindu meditates before a sacred image;
·        when a Muslim gets down on all fours to pray;
·        when a Jew recites the Shema;
·        when a Christian of any denomination receives the bread and wine of Holy Communion;
each of these individuals relates profoundly to the single divine reality, to the only divine reality there is to relate to, to the same divine reality as each other.

But, in the ancient world, many people of all backgrounds saw the various deities as distinct, as equally real, and as being in profound conflict with each other.

So, Paul had a problem with the Corinthians’ behaviour on the issue of “food offered to idols”.  Now, Corinth was in Greece, and many people at that time still worshipped the old Greek gods such as Zeus, Apollo, and Athena.  People would bring food and drink to the temple.  A bit of food might be burnt on the altar and a bit of wine spilled on the ground.  A bit more food and wine may be received by the priests as their honorarium for presiding at the ceremony.  But most of the food and drink would be taken home again by the worshippers.

The problem arose whenever a Christian was eating a meal at the home of a friend who was a worshipper of one of the Greek gods.  The well-meaning host may say something like, “Hey, Stephanos, I know you’re a Christian, but I hope it’s OK for you that our meat and our wine tonight was involved in an offering this morning at the temple of Aphrodite.”

And there was a range of opinions about the subject among the Corinthian Christians.
·        Some felt that Christians should have nothing to do with any food or drink that was involved in non-Christian worship.
·        Others took a different approach, saying that these idols were not real, so that there is nothing wrong with consuming any food or drink that was involved in temple ceremonies.

Paul expressed some personal sympathy for this second approach – what you or I may consider a more enlightened approach - but he urged the Corinthians to make allowances when in the presence of those who consciences were weaker, i.e. for those who would be offended by the sight of a Christian eating food offered to an idol.

There is a certain practical compassion and courtesy in all of this.

·        If you or I were having a meal at the home of a vegetarian, we would not expect to be served a meal that included meat.
·        If you or I were having a meal at the home of a teetotaller or a recovering alcoholic, we would not expect to be served an alcoholic beverage with our meal.
·        If you or I were having a meal at the home of an orthodox Jew, we would not expect to be served food that is not kosher.
·        If you or I were having a meal at the home of a practicing Muslim, we would not expect to be served food that is not halal.

And if, in any of these situations, you or I demanded a pork chop or a cocktail, we would be rednecks of the worst sort.

Also, a good host allows for the religious, cultural, and medical factors that impact on their guests’ diet to shape the menu they offer their guests.  All this is a question of common decency, whether you’re a person of faith or not.

As well as being about the things we eat and drink, this passage may also be about the way we spend our money.  It’s about how we remain Christians when we become consumers.  It’s about a whole range of tough questions, questions such as:
·        What do you do when a garment you wish to purchase was made by poorly-paid people in a sweatshop in a developing country, possibly even using child labour?
·        Do you buy the latest bit of electronic gadgetry, just to keep up with the times, even if your present machine works well enough for your needs?
·        Does it make any difference to your decision if you know that someone else – a friend, a neighbour, a co-worker, a family member – has sufficient respect for you as to regard you as a positive model for their own behaviour?

The fact is that every person sitting in this room is a role model for someone.  This is obvious for those who are parents or grandparents.  It’s obvious for those who teach or who work with young people in other ways.  But for each one here, there are those in your work, in your neighbourhood, in your community organisations, who regard you as a model for their behaviour.

Paul said to the Corinthians, “For if others see you, who have knowledge, eating in the temple of an idol, might they not, since their conscience is weak, be encouraged to the point of eating food sacrificed to idols?” 
·        In the same light could Paul also be challenging us about wearing running shoes made in sweatshops by eight-year old children, if it encourages those who respect us to do the same after they see the logo on our sneakers?
·        Could Paul be challenging us about the results of buying the latest (and most expensive) bit of electronic gadgetry, even if we can afford it, if it encourages a friend who can’t afford it to go out and do likewise?

For similar reasons of compassion and courtesy, Paul urged the Corinthians (and future generations of Christians) to make such allowances when in the presence of those who consciences were weaker in issues of diet and lifestyle.

But sometimes these allowances can go too far, particularly when, in the name of Christian compassion toward those whose consciences are weaker, we seem to wink at prejudice, to connive with ignorance, to tolerate intolerance.  These are far weightier matters than whether or not we’re served a pork chop.  There are times when the demands of truth outweigh the demands of courtesy, and when we need to challenge bigotry even at the risk of rudeness.   

For example, what do you do when someone tells you a racist joke?  … a sexist joke?  … an antisemitic joke?  … an Islamophobic joke? … a homophobic joke?  Do you challenge the joke, or do you give silent consent to bigotry?

Any prejudice (whether against Catholics, against Jews, against Muslims, against Mormons, against Aborigines, against Asians, against Africans, against women, against homosexuals, against Freemasons, and so on …) any prejudice needs to be challenged, and to be challenged strongly.  There are times when the demands of truth outweigh the demands of courtesy, and when we need to challenge bigotry even at the risk of rudeness.   

But, in most other contexts, Paul urged the Corinthians (and future generations of Christians) to make allowances for lifestyle issues when in the presence of those who consciences were weaker.

Jonah, Indiana Jones, Alf Garnett, and Australia Day: a sermon (Jonah 3: 1-5, 10)

Before I talk about “Jonah, Indiana Jones, Alf Garnett, and Australia Day”, I’d like to give a bit of background to the time when the book of Jonah was written. It was in the fifth century BC, after the Exile. A generation or so before, the Babylonians conquered Jerusalem. Many of the Jews, particularly the leadership of the people, had been taken into exile in Babylon. After they had been there for a generation or so, further political changes had taken place. Persia had conquered Babylon. The Persians allowed the Jews to begin to return to their own land.

 

But many other things had changed, as well. After a generation in Babylon, many of the men who came back brought wives who were Gentiles, who weren’t originally Jewish. As well, some of the men who were allowed to stay in the land also married Gentile women.  

 

A crisis arose as to how to deal with this issue. Is God’s love based on matters of race and ethnicity, or is God’s love given freely to all people? That was the question. Most of these women in fact converted to Judaism - it was at a time when a married woman automatically adopted her husband’s religion - but the issue was really one of ethnicity, rather than religion, anyway. 

 

A pamphlet war of sorts developed. In the Hebrew Scriptures we have today, we have books written on both sides of the argument.

 

On one side, we find the books of Ezra and Nehemiah. The writers of these books took a hard line on this issue. They praised those Jewish men who sent their Gentile wives packing, even including the majority of women who actually converted to Judaism. While these books are still part of the Hebrew Scriptures, they never made the biblical hit parade - and just as well.

 

On the other side, we have two little gems of books. They are some of the most popular parts of the Hebrew Scriptures both for Jews and for Christians. They were two works of openly creative fiction in the Scriptures. You could call them sacred novels. They are the book of Ruth and the book of Jonah.

 

Briefly, the book of Ruth is set in the early days of ancient Israel, the days of the Judges. Naomi and Elimelech, a Jewish couple, move to the land of Moab with their two sons during a famine. The sons marry Moabite women, Gentiles. Elimelech dies, as do the two sons. When the famine is over, Naomi tells her two daughters-in-law that she is returning home and offers them the opportunity of remaining among their own people. Ruth insists that she will go with Naomi to the land of Israel.  Once they are there, a romance develops between Ruth and a wealthy landowner Boaz. They marry and have children. It turns out, then, that Boaz and his Gentile wife Ruth are among the ancestors of the great King David. Take that, Ezra and Nehemiah.

 

The book of Jonah, on the other hand is a rollicking old sea tale. Jonah was called by God to be a prophet, to speak God’s word to the people of Nineveh. Jonah didn’t want to go to Nineveh, and ran away from God’s call. He booked passage on a ship. There was a great storm. The sailors drew lots and decided that Jonah was the cause of the storm. He was thrown overboard, eaten by a great fish, and regurgitated onto the shore. At which point our scripture lesson for today picked up the story.

 

Let’s imagine we were making a movie out of either of these books. How would we do it?

 

The book of Ruth is easy. It’s a romance. We’d have to make it a three-handkerchief “chick flick”, wouldn’t we. For Naomi, we’d want some prestigious veteran actress - perhaps Dame Judi Dench or Dame Maggie Smith. We’d probably cast Sean Connery or some other hunky - but mature–age - heart-throb to play Boaz. While, to play the title role of Ruth, we’d probably want someone like Meg Ryan to play a character who’s vulnerable but nobody’s fool.

 

There’s a bit more of a choice, though, if we were making a movie of the book of Jonah. Perhaps you’d want to make it an action-adventure film with plenty of special effects, featuring the storm at sea and the encounter with the monster fish. In that case, we’d probably cast someone like Harrison Ford as Jonah. Jonah could be the Indiana Jones of the Old Testament. This would be the easy and obvious way to make a movie about Jonah: easy, obvious, and wrong. If we did this, we’d miss the point of the book.

 

I think the best way of doing Jonah as a movie would be to make it a comedy. I’d cast Warren Mitchell as Jonah. You remember Warren Mitchell? He played Alf Garnett - the thick-headed, Cockney bigot - back in the 1970’s. Alf Garnett had a few imitators. There was Archie Bunker, an American version of Alf Garnett. Here in Australia, there was Ted Bullpitt. But it was all the same character, a thick-headed bigot with loudly-expressed opinions on everything. He was a bit of a domestic tyrant as well. He tended to sulk when he didn’t get his own way, which happened in most episodes. At the end of each episode, Alf/Archie/Ted was usually outwitted by his family and his neighbours. But he usually admitted his mistakes (very reluctantly) at the end of the episode just before the credits began to roll.

 

Jonah was the first Alf Garnett. Jonah was a thick-headed bigot who sulked when he didn’t get his own way.

 

Jonah didn’t want to go to Nineveh when God called him to go. Jonah didn’t like the people of Nineveh. Jonah went as far as possible in the opposite direction. He tried to go by ship to a place called Tarshish - in Spain - at a time when cruising the Mediterranean was much more of a dodgy proposition than it is now. Like Alf Garnett, Archie Bunker, and Ted Bullpitt, Jonah tended to respond to any challenge to his worldview in a ridiculous way.

 

After the storm and after the business with the fish, Jonah changed his mind and went to Nineveh. This is where we find the story in today’s lesson. He still didn’t like the people of Nineveh, but at least there was a hard-nosed message of judgement: “Three days and Nineveh will be destroyed!” Jonah may have thought perhaps he’ll be lucky enough to see Nineveh actually destroyed. Like Alf Garnett, Archie Bunker, and Ted Bullpitt, Jonah was persistent in his prejudices.

 

Jonah preached. The people of Nineveh listened - and - the people of Nineveh changed their ways. As a result, God changed God’s mind. Destruction was taken off the agenda. The order went down the line: “Stand down the fire-and-brimstone crew!” 

 

The story continues after our lesson for today. Jonah was annoyed, so he went off to sulk. Like Alf Garnett, Archie Bunker, and Ted Bullpitt, Jonah was great at sulking when he didn’t get his own way.

 

While Jonah was sulking, God caused a tree to grow near Jonah, to give him some shade. Then the tree died. Jonah sulked some more. God asked Jonah why he was sulking. Jonah got all upset over the tree.

 

And God’s response (and the comic irony of these words are much more obvious when said with a Jewish accent): “You did nothing to make the tree grow, and yet you sulk. Should I not be concerned over the people of Nineveh whom I made? Not to mention all the animals?” Like Alf Garnett, Archie Bunker, and Ted Bullpitt, Jonah finally got the message as the final credits began to roll.

 

Now, the people who initially read the book of Jonah - along with the book of Ruth - also got the message. Although the books of Ezra and Nehemiah are still there in the Hebrew Scriptures, they exist mostly as an historical footnote. Their radically exclusive concern was a losing cause. The books of Jonah and Ruth shaped the course of history. The inclusive values proclaimed by these little sacred novels won out, hands down.

In the three classic monotheistic religions that developed in the Middle East,

• Judaism, 
• Christianity, and 
• Islam, 

the concerns of these books remain. The one living God is not just the god of a single tribe, nation, or race. Instead, God’s love is there for all humanity. 

 

But we live in a time when the Ezras and Nehemiahs increasingly seem to be having things their all own way at the moment. In the broader community, those who wish to restrict the right of full participation in our society on the grounds of race, ethnicity, religion, or some artificial measure of economic productivity are being taken much more seriously than they deserve.   

 

The Ezras and Nehemiahs have had it their own way for far too long. It’s not an easy time for those of us who value the inclusive lessons of Ruth and Jonah. Still, God promises us, the Ezras and Nehemiahs will never prevail for long: that’s the message of Ruth and Jonah.

 

While thick-headed Jonah may have provided a role model for some comic bigots in a later century, the book bearing his name is a caution to all people who seek today:

• to limit humanity to the members of any single race,
• to limit virtue to the citizens of any single nation,
• to limit God’s love to the adherents of any single religion.

 

On this year’s Australia Day weekend, let us give thanks to God for our multiracial, multicultural, and mulifaith society. Remembering the lessons of Jonah, let us solemnly pledge not to let the Alf Garnetts of our world ruin it.