Chocolate-chip hot cross buns ... how dumb is that? (a somewhat curmudgeonly reflection)

Does anyone else think that chocolate-chip hot cross buns are remarkably silly?

Easter has been associated with chocolate for some time, now.   Back when many more people "gave up" various treats for Lent than they do today, chocolate was often high on the "give up for Lent" list.  As a result, when Lent ended at Easter, many people would enjoy a bit of excess in their Easter return to what they gave up for Lent.  In the case of chocolate, this also meant that confectionary companies produced special Easter chocolate items, such as chocolate eggs or chocolate rabbits.  (Eggs, being an ancient symbol of new life, were a part of Easter for centuries.  People would dye hard-boiled eggs for Easter.  Orthodox churches still distribute dyed eggs at the end of their Easter liturgies.  Egg-shaped novelty chocolates were a more recent practice.)

On the other hand, the hot cross bun was an item, not for Easter but for Lent.  It was produced as something sweet but not too luxurious - more like fruit bread than cake in its texture - and thus, very appropriate for Lent.

Once the Easter festival begins (sometime on the Saturday evening of Easter weekend), the austere Lenten hot cross buns should give way to more luxurious sweets (preferably made from the decidely non-Lenten chocolate).

So, liturgically and gastronomically, a chocolate-chip hot cross bun is a mixed metaphor.

On the one hand, it's too luxurious for Lent.

On the other hand, it's not luxurious enough for Easter.

Perhaps that's why chocolate-chip hot cross buns start appearing in the supermarkets during the first week in January, well before the beginning of Lent.  They're the hot cross bun you eat when you're not doing Lent.

Some thoughts on the new Pope

It's been a big day.  We awoke to the news that the Cardinals (not the baseball team, but the senior archbishops) have not only chosen a new pope, but chosen:

• the first Latin American pope,
• the first pope to be a member of the Jesuit order,
• and the first pope to take the name Francis.

There are a number of signs of hope here.

• The new pope seems to have a genuine concern for social justice and an advocacy for the poor.
• He seems to have a warm personality, and is said to have a lively spirituality.
• They say he has a genuine concern for relations between Christians and member of other faiths.

The information that he takes public transport a lot, cooks most of his own meals, and lives in a small apartment (rather than a palatial archbishop's residence) all indicates a commitment to a servant style of ministry.  (I imagine that his minders at the Vatican won't let him continue in this way of life, but I hope he'll at least be allowed to make his own breakfast ... even if just occasionally.)

He's said to be pretty conservative on issues relating to gender, sex, and bioethics.  Still, we can say essentially the same thing about any of the cardinals in this conclave (all of whom were appointed by either John Paul II or by Benedict XVI).  His conservatism, however, seems to be tempered by pastoral compassion (and common sense) in a number of ways, however:

• He has been quoted as advocating that condoms should be allowed for the sake of preventing sexually-transmitted diseases.
• He has been an advocate of far greater compassion for people living with HIV/AIDS.
• He has criticised priests who refuse to baptise the children of unmarried mothers.

I'm sure he won't please everyone all the time.

• Some of the more liberal or middle-of-the road Catholics will wish he was a bit more flexible on issues of gender, sex, or bioethics.
• Some of the more religiously conservative Catholics will wish he was a bit less pastoral (and a bit less compassionate) in his conservatism on issues of gender, sex, or bioethics.
• Some of the more politically conservative Catholics will be annoyed that he wasn't as flexible as they'd like on issues of social justice.
• Those of us outside the Catholic Church will also develop our own opinions one way or the other, partly from the media, partly from the Catholics we know.

One sign of hope for Francis's papacy is seen in his name.  Taking a name that embraces the example of St. Francis of Assisi, the new pope seems to be embracing a commitment to an accessible, inclusive, and compassionate spirituality.

Even for those of us who aren't Catholic, the Pope has a major role in promoting the well-being of all Christians, of all people of faith, and of all people of good will.  For those of us who pray, let's pray that he's able to do well in this task. 

Pope Francis

A new pope has been chosen ... Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio ... a Jesuit ... Argentinian ... the first non-European-born pope in over 1000 years ... who has chosen the name Francis.

The name is a promising sign, I think.

White smoke ...

Just got the SMS ... Habemus Papam ... no I don't have a direct line, I just signed up for an SMS service for a "white smoke" alert.  Just after 5:00 a.m. Hobart time, looks like early evening Rome time on the TV.

Couldn't get the ABC on my TV ... went to a commercial station ... after a few minutes I was able to get decent reception on the ABC ... able to avoid the inane chatter of the commercial network.

Swiss Guards moving around ... still no name yet.

Whoever he is ... please pray for him.

While I'm not a Catholic myself, I know that whoever occupies the Chair of Peter has a major impact on the well-being of the whole Christian church, and on the morale of all people of faith and all people of good will.

As I said, whoever he is, please pray for him.

Should Good Friday and Easter Monday remain public holidays?

As we consider almost every public holiday on the Australian calendar, we can find people in the community who experience the day as a holiday from work but who still, in all honesty, can say “This isn’t really my holiday.” 

The most dramatic illustration of this statement is Australia Day. 

• Most Australians view this day as the beginning of our nation’s life. 
• In recent decades, many non-Anglo-Celtic Australians have regarded this day as an opportunity to celebrate our cultural diversity. 
• However, for most indigenous Australians, the 26^th of January represents the beginning of the catastrophic loss of their continent and the destruction of much of their culture.

There really is no easy way around this fact.

There are other, if less dramatic, illustrations of this statement, as well.
·        Republicans receive a public holiday for the Queen’s Birthday.
·        Pacifists receive a public holiday for ANZAC Day.
·        Political conservatives receive a holiday for Labour Day, along with anyone sympathizing with employers on most industrial relations issues.
·        The various public holidays observed on a state or regional basis for horse races, agricultural shows, and similar events are also public holidays for those who choose to spend the day doing something else.
·        New Year’s Day is received as a public holiday by those who see another day (Chinese New Year, Rosh Hashanah, the First Sunday of Advent, etc.) as a far more meaningful start to their year.

For almost every public holiday in Australia, some Australians can claim “this isn’t really my holiday.”  In this light, the handful of Australian public holidays that are linked either to Christian liturgical observances (Good Friday, Christmas Day) or their aftermath (Boxing Day, Easter Monday) are in very good company.

The issue is further complicated by examining the appeals to Australia’s secular society and Australia’s multifaith culture. 

While Australian society is, in many ways, profoundly secular, so are many nations in Western Europe that have public holidays for Good Friday and Easter Monday.  In contrast, neither Good Friday nor Easter Monday is a public holiday in the flamboyantly religious United States.

Similarly, I believe a growing appreciation of the multifaith dimension of our Australian culture is crucial for our nation’s future.  But in this context, speaking as a person involved in interfaith relations, I am unaware of any proposal by Australians of faiths other than Christianity to delete holidays with a Christian origin from the calendar.  (Such proposals are normally made by people of an aggressively anti-religious orientation, but with a Christian background.)

In considering the question of whether or not Good Friday and Easter Monday remain public holidays, the sole issue I want to address is the level of congruence between the churches’ observances of Holy Week and Easter and the observances of the wider community.  If no real congruence exists, I believe that the churches should seek to voluntarily relinquish these public holidays by requesting governments to move the public holidays on these days to some other occasions.

To look first at the other Christian observance marked by public holidays in this nation, I believe that a high level of congruence exists between the Christian celebration of Christmas and the Christmas celebration of the broader community.  Themes that are never far from the surface in our community’s celebrations at Christmas include hospitality, joyful generosity, and the idea of Christmas as an occasion for human ethical transformation (what I call the “Scrooge motif”).  All these themes are directly relevant to themes found in the proclamation of the Christian faith at Christmas. 

However, I believe that such a congruence of themes is markedly absent between the Christian observances of Holy Week and Easter and the activities of the broader community during the Easter long weekend.   There is really far less common ground between the churches and the broader community at Easter than at Christmas.

The Easter long weekend affects a number of practical issues of church life for Holy Week and Easter. 
·        The existence of the Easter long weekend means that, for many congregations, Easter Day is a very low-key occasion.  The non-frequent worshippers who make a point of attending services on Easter Day often do not make up for the numbers of regular worshippers who are elsewhere.  Because of the Easter long weekend, there are many regular worshippers who rarely attend worship in their own congregations on Easter Day.
·        As well, the structure of the Easter long weekend often means that many non-frequent worshippers are more apt to turn up at their local church for the solemn and sombre observances on Good Friday (before travelling to the place where they’ll be weekending) than for the more joyful celebrations of Easter Day (while they’re away).   This may have the effect of providing a skewed view of the Christian faith among those for whom this is their sole visit to church in an average year, as well as reinforcing in their minds the popular cultural stereotype of practicing Christians as being very gloomy people.
·        The practice of some congregations (usually within the “evangelical” range of the Christian spectrum) who hold a premature “Easter” celebration on Good Friday is, in my opinion, no help here.  Such a practice lacks liturgical and theological integrity by glossing over the pain of Good Friday.

In many ways, I envy my Eastern Orthodox colleagues who can, in most years, lead their congregations in the celebrations of Easter without the distraction and the competition of the longest long weekend of the year.

My own preference is that the Good Friday and Easter Monday public holidays be replaced by an autumn long weekend, with the date of the weekend to be set in consultation with state and territory Departments of Education in terms of their preference for the break between the first and second terms of the school year.  Such an autumn long week end may coincide with Easter (on the date celebrated by western Christians) in some years, but not others.  Similarly, it may also coincide with Orthodox Easter, or with Passover, in some years, but not others.

I personally believe that the Christian churches of Australia have nothing to lose – and potentially much to gain – if Good Friday (along with Easter Monday) was no longer a public holiday. 

"Family Service": Is there something better to call it?

Many churches have a worship service, usually existing alongside their more traditional services, that has a primary focus on making worship "child-friendly", so that children are enabled to participate in worship and find the church to be an inviting and welcoming community.  As well, this service is generally of a more casual nature, compared with the congregation's other services, so as to appeal to those who prefer to worship in a more casual context.

As I said, many churches have these services, sometimes weekly, sometimes monthly, sometimes at some other level of frequency.

The question is "What do we call these services?"

Many Catholic parishes I know call these services "Children's Liturgies".  This, in my opinion, is an honest and accurate term to use.  These are worship services designed for children, with the purpose of enabling children to worship.

However, in some other denominations, many prefer not to refer to such services as being for children, knowing that some adults who prefer a more casual style of worship also choose to attend these services. 

• Some adults who choose to attend these services do so to encourage the children and their families in their faith. 
• Other adults who choose to attend these services do so because they feel the content of a service orientated toward children may be less challenging and confronting than the content of a service oriented toward adults.

But, even if some adults choose to attend these services, they are normally planned with children in mind.

In the Uniting Church, these services are sometimes called "All-Age Worship".  This, in my opinion, is not a very accurate thing to call these services.  They're not really designed for all ages, only for all ages up to early adolescence, even if some adults choose to attend them. 

Many churches call these services "Family Services".  This has it's own problems.  In recent years, "family" has become a very politicised word. 

• Some politicians and religious leaders use the word "family" in a very rigid, moralistic way, so that not all families qualify to be considered as being "the family". 
• Some politicians and religious leaders speak of "family values" in such a way as to indicate that they do not value all families equally, i.e.  that they value a family involving a married, heterosexual couple and their children far more highly than they value a family involving an unmarried couple, a same-gender couple, a "blended" family, a single parent with children, or a couple with no children.

For some people in the wider community, whenever a church uses the word "family", there's always  the suspicion that the word is being used in the rigid, politicised way.  So some see a sign advertising a "family service" to be an invitation to a gathering celebrating politicised "family values", even when this may be far from the intention of the planners.

As well, the phrase "family service" may be seen by some as referring to a gathering that is only for children and their parents, so that some may think "I have no children, so this service isn't really intended for me."

Here's a modest proposal:   If your church has a service like this, let's keep it simple, honest, and unconfusing.  Rather than a "Family Service" or "All-Age Worship", call it a "Casual Service".  This describes most of these services very well.  It doesn't invite any unnecessary confusion.  Nothing is really lost by calling your "Family Service" a "Casual Service".  Possibly, much can be gained.

Why Christian churches shouldn't celebrate christianised "seders" during Holy Week

For a moment or two, imagine that you’ve just learned that a group within another faith (let’s say, for the moment, Scientologists)  have an annual gathering in which they take the Christian service of Holy Communion, and give each part of the service a strongly Scientologist meaning.  In the process of doing this, they ignore, and at times contradict, the understanding(s) of the Eucharist held by most Christians.

How would this make you feel?  Would you feel annoyed?  Angry?  Hurt?  Would this make you more likely – or less likely – to trust Scientologists when they speak of their good will toward Christians and toward other faiths?

As they say in the old jokes, I have some good news and I have some bad news.

·        First, here’s the good news.  This doesn’t happen.  I am not aware of any group of Scientologists anywhere who celebrate mock Eucharists of the sort I described.
·        Now, for the bad news:  something very similar to this happens every year and, sadly, some Christians are the culprits.

Every year, during Holy Week, many Christian congregations, of a variety of denominations, hold services modelled on the Jewish Passover Seder.  These services impose a Christian meaning on a Jewish observance, frequently ignoring (and even denying) the meaning that Jews themselves give to the Seder.

Most congregations who celebrate christianised “Seders” do so with good will, and with the honest belief that they are making a connection between their worshipping life and the meal which Jesus shared with his disciples during the Last Supper. 

In fact, the present Passover Seder celebrated by Jews today is from a much more recent time than the time of Jesus.  Its current form is from the Middle Ages.  We know very little about the actual shape of the Passover meal used at the time of Jesus, other than that it involved lamb, wine, and unleavened bread.

As well, most congregations who celebrate christianised “Seders” honestly believe that they are promoting good will between Christians and Jews by doing so.  In fact, many Jews believe that the Christians who participate in these services do so in mockery of the Jewish faith.  If anything, these services may be much more of a barrier than an aid to good will between Christians and Jews.

For a church that wants to develop its understanding of Jewish faith and practice, there are many other things you can do.  One of the best things to do is to invite a rabbi or another knowledgeable Jewish individual to speak about Judaism to a study group or a fellowship group in your congregation.

For a church that simply wants to make a connection between their worshipping life and the meal which Jesus shared with his disciples before his crucifixion, the answer is even easier.  You’re already doing it, whenever you celebrate the sacrament which Christians have called the Eucharist, Holy Communion, the Mass, or the Lord’s Supper.  When we share in this sacrament, we recall Jesus together with his disciples, and we hear the words:  “Do this in remembrance of me”.