Romance and Truth

Ruth 3.1-5, 4.13-17; Psalm 127; Hebrews 9.24-28; Mark 12.38-44

The story of Ruth is heart-warming and romantic, but also of huge theological significance. The wedding speech words about not so much losing a daughter as gaining a son are perfectly illustrated by this young woman whose loyalty to her foreign mother-in-law outlasts the brief life of her husband and steels her nerve to enter a country where there is no guarantee that she will be welcome.

Once in Israel, Ruth becomes the foreigner: a gentile in the land of the chosen people, some of whose scriptures suggest that the gentiles are to be avoided, enslaved, or even liquidated. The fact that the story of Ruth is included in the canon of scripture is valuable evidence that faith in a loving, inclusive God is the vital centre-piece of the tradition we have inherited.

Ruth stands for the blurring of the boundaries, a tradition represented by some of the less well-known characters in the Bible (e.g. Rahab, Cyrus), but also including a young woman named Mary, and culminating in Christ himself, the ultimate insider-turned-outsider, or vice-versa. Jesus is the great inside-outer, who blurred the boundaries between holiness and unholiness by getting so thoroughly inside the world’s mess that his way of love earned him the death sentence

Like his ancestor Ruth, but on an infinitely bigger stage, Jesus shows us a way of life that does not divide people into those who belong and those who don’t. The rulers of this world erect walls, and imagine they are safe behind them. Jesus makes himself known on the other side of those walls, and invites outsiders in.

All Saints (Sunday 1st November)

Isaiah 25.6-9, Psalms 24.1-6, Revelation 21.1-6a, John 11.32-44

The stories of the saints make it clear that we are not talking about a set of perfect people, but about ordinary people who are remembered for the way in which they lived their Christian lives.

The point of being a Christian is to become Christ-like by inviting God into our lives and allowing God to work on us. God is, as the liturgy reminds us, both the source and the final purpose of our lives: our spring-board and our destination, however distant. The gift of being a Christian is that we are accompanied on life's journey by Christ himself, however inconspicuous. The saints are people who have lived with that purpose and that faith, and we belong with them.

Today's readings remind us that, in our final destination, every tear will be wiped dry. Isaiah even fills in a couple of details of the menu at the grand celebration. The gospel reading, however, gives us a paradoxical glimpse of the way to the kingdom. The resurrection, he says, is about more than a general raising of the dead at the end of the world. He then demonstrates the point by what must have been a very temporary resurrection of Lazarus. Tears are wiped away, only to return later,my it the real focus of the story is in a few words of protest from Martha, implying that Lazarus is too far gone for Jesus' attention to do any good.

What aspects of our lives or our worlds seem 'too far gone'? To be beyond hope of any sort of redemption? The message of today's celebration is that they, too, belong among the saints.

Artists and Engineers (Sunday 25th October)

Job 42.1-6, 10-17, Psalm 34.1-8, Hebrews 7.23-28, Mark 10.46-52

Last week’s readings included these words from Job 38: Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind…  "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements--surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone?

We don’t normally think in these terms about the natural world—we’re too used to thinking of it as ‘natural’, which suggests that it ‘just happened’, though the idea of creation might be taken to imply a degree of planning. Our attention has often been focused on artists and mystics who praise the beauty of nature, and often seem to regret the intrusion of anything non-natural. 

It’s easy to forget that a harvest thanksgiving, for all its reference to the natural world, is about not only God’s gifts but also  human industry. How typical of the  Church that, having made much of harvest festivals since the 1840s, it was not until the early 1970s that a hymn was written and published that celebrated other human industries. Perhaps the authors had a premonition that whole swathes of British industry were about to destroy themselves, and felt that it was time to pray about it.

That hymn is rarely sung, but it’s worth giving it an outing now and again. Is there any connection with today’s readings? Possibly that, like the blind man by the side of the road, we sometimes need to have our eyes opened.

Divine Power and Glory (Sunday 18th October)

Job 38.1-7, Psalm 104, Hebrews 5.1-10, Mark 10.35-45

I’m never quite satisfied with what God said to Job when he spoke ‘out of the whirlwind’ (not quite the way ‘he’ spoke to Elijah). Is it really satisfactory, when presented with Job’s understandable complaints, simply to indulge in a poetic monologue about divine power and glory? Unless, of course, what looks like a poetic monologue is really a counter-complaint about what hard work it is being God—an entertaining thought, but without much scholarly support.

The most famous quotation from Job is from 19.25, in which he expresses certainty that he has a living advocate, even though there is nothing in the book or the rest of the Hebrew scriptures to justify such faith. In the letter to the Hebrews, it’s spelt out: ‘we have a great high priest who has passed into the heavens’. Those few words state something of huge importance: Jesus is the vital connection between us and God because he belongs with us just as completely as he belongs with God. In him humanity and divinity are perfectly united, which is why our communion with him is also communion with God.

The priesthood of Christ is quite a contrast with the promotion sought by James and John (blamed on their mother in St. Matthew’s account). They seem to think that sitting at either side of Jesus in God’s kingdom will be the ultimate promotion, and that they are ideally qualified. Jesus gives them a quick interview before explaining the situation and they, to their credit, don’t seem to have gone off in a huff. They realized, at that moment, that they and Jesus really were ‘all in it together’, and that the way to the kingdom lies in living that togetherness fully.