A good and kind man

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Matthew 1.18-end

On March 19 we remember the life of Joseph of Nazareth.

In the gospel of Matthew, Joseph is depicted as a good man, a working carpenter, who trusted in God. He received God’s messenger who shared God’s will for him and for Mary, to whom he was engaged to be married. Luke’s gospel describes how Joseph took the new-born child as if he were his own. He was with Mary when, on the fortieth day after the birth, Jesus was presented in the Temple, ‘where every first-born male is designated as holy to the Lord’. The adoption of Jesus by Joseph also established Jesus in the descent of David, to accord with the prophecy that Israel’s deliverer would be of the House and lineage of David.

Apart from those mentions, we hear little more in the New Testament about Joseph. He disappears from the pages of history, leading us to believe that Joseph died before the ministry of Jesus began. Had he lived, surely he would have been with Mary at the foot of the cross.

What we can discern from the limited information we have about Joseph is that he was a good and kind man. We can only imagine the shock of discovering that the young girl to whom he was betrothed was pregnant, but his response is very telling.

Even before being spoken to by an angel of the Lord in a dream which explained what had taken place, Joseph decided to shield Mary from her inevitable public disgrace and ‘dismiss her quietly’, as Matthew puts it. From the insight of his dream, Joseph took Mary as his wife, caring for her through her pregnancy and raising Jesus as his own.

He took Mary and Jesus away from the danger posed by Herod, returning to Nazareth only when safe to do so, and there he supported his family through his work in the carpenter’s shop. In many respects, Joseph’s life was both hidden and ordinary. A faithful and caring husband and father.

Joseph’s life is, I believe, a great encouragement to us all, not least because his example is one to which we can all aspire. He lived out his life faithfully amid ordinary everyday things.

Few of us will ever make a mark on the world after the fashion of great saints like Peter and Paul, or Francis and Clare of Assisi, or Teresa of Avila, or John Paul II or Teresa of Calcutta, but we all have the opportunity to live life in ways that are good and kind; to make a difference to those around us in ways hidden to the world but which matter immensely to those we meet and care for along the way.

Joseph of Nazareth was a good and kind man. They are qualities that we can all exercise in ways great and small in the context of our families, our friendships, and our neighbourhoods. Qualities needed more than ever in these worrying days. As we thank God for Joseph’s life, may he be an example for us all to follow.

St Joseph, pray for us.

Drains or radiators?

Luke 11.14-23  

‘Are you a drain or a radiator?’ In other words, are you a person whose negative outlook on life is a drain on those around you; or are you a person who sees the positive and radiates hope to others?

This gospel reading is quite absurd. Having just freed someone from demonic possession, Jesus is accused of doing so by the power of Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons. As Jesus then explains, such an interpretation is nonsense. Calling good evil is like saying black is white, or days is night. So, we must look behind the words to the motives of those who made the accusation.

Maybe the actions of Jesus were not what they expected. The authority with which Jesus spoke and acted was rocking the religious establishment. Jesus was pushing them to rethink their position and bring a critical eye to bear on their own practice.

It was more convenient for the religious leaders to twist the interpretation of what Jesus was doing to fit their own prejudice than allow themselves to be challenged to recognise that the power of God will not be contained by any religious boundaries or conventions of their own making.

Jesus declared that his healing work was done through the finger of God. God was at work in Jesus but not everyone could see it. That was true for Jesus’ contemporaries, and it is true in every age. We can all suffer blindness in relation to the ways in which God is at work among us.

We are blessed by God in many ways but, rather than recognize the blessing and giving thanks for it, we can sometimes focus on what we lack or on what is wrong in our lives. The glass is always half empty.

All of us would do well to keep praying for the gift to see as Jesus sees, which is the opposite of how his critics in the gospel responded. Jesus saw the working of God in creation; in the sower; the vineyard, the flowers of the field and birds of the air. He saw God’s presence in those whom many people had written off. Jesus teaches us to see with generous and hopeful eyes.

When we see with those eyes, then we will recognise and make others aware of the power and love of God at work in the world. We will not be drains of despondency, but radiators of hope in a world where hope is in short supply.

Eyes open or closed?

Luke 16.19-end

From the gospel accounts we can see that Jesus’ favourite method of teaching was through parables. These are stories that draw us in and, before we know it, invite a response from us as the realisation dawns that Jesus is not telling an abstract story, but is speaking directly to us. They get beneath our defences and open our eyes to things that we otherwise would not have seen. The parable in this reading is no exception.

At first sight, and if only read as a morality tale, the parable of The Rich Man and Lazarus is the condemnation of a man so focussed on enjoying his wealth that he failed to respond to the desperate plight of poor Lazarus, who would have been happy even with the crumbs from the rich man’s table. It goes on to show the eternal fate of each of the two men: for the rich man, not so good; but blessings for Lazarus.

To stop there, however, keeps the parable safely at arm’s length. After all, we are not living the lives of the decadent rich, filling up our time with extravagant feasts. In contrast, if we linger with the parable and allow it to do its work, we cannot but help find closer resonances, not only with the rich man, but also with Lazarus.

We may not be filthy rich as the parable suggests the rich man was but, like him, we can go through life with our eyes closed to the needs of those around us; needs to which we might otherwise be able to respond but fail to see until the moment to do something has passed. The rich man was not a bad person in himself, but his self-interest blinded him to the need at his gate.

Equally we may not be poor like Lazarus, though it is not difficult to see who might share his anguish in an unjust world where obscene wealth in hands of the few mean the desperate needs of so many go unseen and unmet. No one should be hungry or homeless in the world of the 21st century because, paraphrasing Martin Luther King Jr: ‘There is more than enough for everyone’s need, but not for everyone’s greed’. Motivation, perhaps, for us all to do our bit to challenge the structures that make the poor poorer, and the rich richer.

Like all the parables of Jesus, this one speaks directly to us today and invites a response. Are our eyes open or closed to the challenge?

Costly service, not privileged power

Matthew 20.17-28

Sadly, we live in a world where people hanker after privilege and power. We see it writ large in the proliferation of oligarchs and billionaires and expressed in the armed conflicts that so disfigure our world. Geopolitics are, of course complex, and even the best of intentions is fraught with the dangers of unintended consequences.

Removing a tyrant might be a laudable, even achievable aim. Managing the aftermath into a just and lasting peace presents a daunting challenge, regardless of the motivation of such action. The current situation in the Middle East is a sobering reminder to us of that fact and must surely prompt us to pray earnestly for peace.

This gospel reading contrasts the nature of Christian discipleship with the ambition for worldly status and power that lies at the heart of so much of what is wrong in our world. The bitter fruits of such ambition can be seen on a large scale in armed conflicts between and within nations, in the unjust distribution of resources that allow obscene wealth to co-exist with desperate poverty, and in the depletion of the world’s resources for the sake of short-term profits. The danger can also be found closer to home, in the hearts of each of us.

On his way to Jerusalem, having just told his disciples for the third time about what awaited him there, he is immediately asked by the mother of James and John for a favour. She wants Jesus to give her boys a privileged place in his kingdom, having clearly missed the point of what being a follower of his entailed.

As it turned out, James and John would indeed follow in Jesus’ footsteps, though not in the way his mother hoped in that moment. Jesus goes on to contrast how the rulers of the Gentiles sort to lord it over people in an unhealthy exercise of power, with his own followers who place themselves at the service of others with all the personal cost entailed.

The kingdom of God is not driven by an agenda of privilege and worldly power, nor measured in terms of military or political might. Instead, its hallmark is that of selfless, loving service of others, with special attention paid to the wretched of the earth: the poor, the hungry, the dispossessed, those for whom life itself is a daily struggle.

I like to think the mother of James and John came to understand this through the costly nature of the witness would come to live out as they followed Jesus. How could she not, having lived that closely to Jesus?

This Lent it will surely do no harm for each one of us to reflect on our Christian discipleship, reminding ourselves that being a follower of Jesus is about costly service, not privileged power. And then to consider how to work that out in practice in the context of our daily lives. We can’t change the world, but we might just be able to make a difference to those we meet along the way.

It’s all about trust

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Matthew 7.7-12

This reading is from a long section of Jesus’ teaching, known as ‘The sermon on the mount’. Just as Moses received the law from God on Mt Sinai, there is a real sense here of Jesus imparting to the people fresh guidance about how best to live together. The gospel writer surely had this parallel in mind in the way his material is ordered.

Have a look at chapters 5-7 of Matthew as part of your Lenten discipline. It is a reminder of the life Jesus calls us to live. You will find it both challenging and rewarding in equal measure. For now, a brief comment on the verses referred to above. At first glance, verses 7-9 seem to suggest that prayer is a transaction: We ask, for what we want, and God gives it. And yet, experience tells us that cannot be so.

I’m sure we have all been disappointed in that regard. The job that never happened, the relationship that broke down, the illness that has taken a heavy toll on a loved one, the untimely death of a friend – all these are part of a litany of loss that steer us away from a simplistic reading of Jesus’ words: ‘Ask, and it will be given to you . . .’ They do, however, make more sense considering the verses that follow.

‘Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? (verses 9-10).

No one in their right mind would give something harmful to a child asking for food, one of the essentials of life. How much more must that be true of God, who always seeks the best for us, and to meet us in our deepest needs? Or, as Jesus puts it with his characteristic succinctness and directness:

‘If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him! (verse 11).

This gospel reading is not a promise that God will answer a shopping list of our wants, but it is an encouragement to trust that God will meet us in our deepest needs. Even in the toughest and darkest moments of our lives, God’s loving presence remains with us, and will see us through. As we give lovingly to our children, God gives lovingly to us. It’s all about trust.

The Lenten journey

Deuteronomy 30.15-end; Luke 9.22-25

Once again, the Lenten journey has begun, inviting us to think about our relationship with God, and consider how our faith affects our daily life. Time to look back over the past year, giving thanks to God for things that have gone well, as well as acknowledging times when we might have let God down.

We must also look forward by setting in place for Lent those disciplines and practices that will help us through the challenges of the year ahead, of which there are many. As always, we can turn to the Bible for encouragement and inspiration.

These readings remind us that being faithful to God requires us to make choices amid whatever life throws at us, including the unexpected things that come our way in these anxious and uncertain times.

The first reading from Deuteronomy recalls the words of Moses to the people of Israel as he conveys the implications of God’s renewal of the covenant. Drawing near to the end of a long and eventful life that knew much hardship and, Moses exhorts the people to be faithful to the commandments, to choose life and blessings over death and curses.

The point stressed by Moses was that life would bring many distractions appearing as the easier option, but which would, in practice, have disastrous consequences if following them meant turning away from God. Choose life, Moses urges.

In the reading from Luke, Jesus explains clearly to his followers what is required of them if they choose to follow him. It will mean taking up their cross daily and even being willing to lose their life for his sake. What will it profit them if they gain the whole world, but lose or forfeit themselves in the process?

Both readings point us to a simple, yet profound truth: What matters more than anything is our faithfulness to God from which everything else flows. This will not always be easy, and sometimes it will be costly; but living faithfully enables the love of God to flow in and through us to others and that, ultimately, is the real source of our contentment.

Being faithful to God’s call upon us is also the ground of our hope, certain in the knowledge that whatever the future holds, nothing can separate us from God’s love for us in Jesus Christ. And that is what we can be at such a time as this: carriers of hope to others in a world, in a nation, and in a society where there is so much fear and despair.

As the Lenten journey begins, let us recommit to walking resolutely, and trusting in the mercy and compassion of God who walks with us, the God who gives to us courage for the present, hope for the future, and strength to make the choices that enable us to grow in faith and love.

May this holy season be a time to take stock of our lives and our relationships, to take up our cross daily and, in all things, to choose life. The journey begins again. Travel well.

Don’t be afraid, just ask

Mark 7.24-30

This story about a Syrophoenician woman making a request of Jesus is difficult to hear. It casts Jesus in a disparaging light regarding his attitude towards the woman. She was a Gentile and although at this point in the gospel the focus of Jesus was on the people of Israel, his words words nevertheless sound harsh.

The woman was desperate to find help for her daughter, possessed by an unclean spirit. On hearing that Jesus was in the vicinity she went to beg for his help. Jesus’ sharp response was: ‘Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ To call someone a dog was a considerable insult, and there might well have been some within the Jewish community of the time, who would have had no hesitation in describing outsiders as dogs.

As a product of his culture and society, maybe this was how Jesus himself was responding, though his ministry broadens to include all people as the gospel account progresses. But equally, Jesus might have said what he did to the woman with a smile on his face and with a sense of irony, having already moved on in his own mind beyond the parochialism of some sections of first-century Judaism, and was testing out the woman’s response.

Maybe Jesus clearly saw that, for the woman, it was irrelevant whether the person who could bring about healing for her daughter was Jew or Gentile. What mattered was her love for her daughter. So she responds to Jesus with the words: ‘Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’ Jesus replies: ‘For saying that, you may go – the demon has left your daughter.’ The barrier between Jew and Gentile was broken down, and God’s healing power demonstrated as something that cannot be contained by human prejudice.

We should not underestimate the boldness and courage of the Syrophoenician woman in approaching Jesus as she did then as an outsider. Now we know that for Jesus there are no outsiders, and the story is a reminder to us that the love, compassion, and healing power of Jesus are available to all who are open to receive it. Whomever, whenever, wherever. There are no exclusions, no exceptions.

For anyone needing the healing touch of Jesus in their lives, all that is needed is the courage to step forward and ask. Don’t be afraid, just ask.

When to walk away

Mark 6.7-13

I wonder if you have ever been in a conversation, a discussion, or an argument where, despite your best efforts, someone is unable or unwilling to give due attention to what you are saying? Or, maybe, you have been the one with a problem in hearing and respecting the other’s point of view. My guess is that all of us, at one time or another, have felt the frustration of not being heard, or been guilty of not listening to someone with whom we disagree.

Unfortunately, when such failures of communication occur, the tendency is for both parties concerned to harden their position and shout louder – metaphorically if not literally – to drown out the other, generating much heat but little or no light. We see this tragic process worked out in all aspects of life: from interpersonal relationships all the way up to disputes between nations, with everything in between. When people close ranks and stop listening to each other, problems occur.

What a different world it would be if we could only learn to manage our differences better, even if that sometimes means walking away from conflict instead of inflaming it. Imagine what political life would look like if at least common ground could be acknowledged, similarly relations between religions. And how much healthier would the Church of England be if its warring factions did less shouting at and more listening to each other.

Of course, not all disagreements will result in a happy outcome, and sometimes the most constructive thing to do is walk away as to continue would be futile. I think this is what Jesus is getting at when he offers advice to his disciples as he sends them on their way to proclaim the kingdom of God. In some places they will be welcome but in other places people will refuse to hear them. When that happens there is no point in continuing and Jesus tells the disciples to ‘shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them’. There is no shame in walking away.

Now I don’t believe for one minute that Jesus is saying avoid all conflict. That is evident from the example of his life and teaching. Instead, he calls us to be wise about when to engage and when to walk away. As the saying goes, there are none so blind as those who will not see, or deaf as those who refuse to hear. In such cases there is no point in carrying on a disagreement or argument. A dignified exit is the best option and, who knows, even the most entrenched position might soften over time. To walk away is not to fail, but to live to fight another day.

Use it or lose it

Mark 4.21-25

Here’s an interesting question: ‘If you were put on trial for your Christian faith, would there be enough evidence to convict you?’ How do people see us? Is there a quality to our lives that helps others to glimpse something of the Lord whom we serve? When people look at us, do they see light or darkness? Is our faith evident to others?

Jesus offers us some insight in his Parable of the Lamp. Following on from the Parable of the Sower (another illustration of how faith might grow or be hindered in a person’s life), here Jesus says faith is not something to be hidden away. He uses the example of how you would not hide a light under a basket or under the bed but would put it on a stand to be seen.

The parable closes with the words ‘For to those who have, more will be given; and from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.’ Now if we take that to refer to possessions the parable makes no sense and is unjust: the ‘haves’ get more and the ‘have nots’ lose everything. Yet, if we see it is as speaking of faith, it makes perfect sense.

If we exercise our faith, we find ourselves strengthened to live our lives and meet the challenges that come our way. We learn and grow through the joys and pain of life, drawing strength from our experience of God at work in us in the past to face the demands of the present and of the future. Our faith deepens and grows.

On the other hand, if we fail to exercise our faith, all too quickly we become forgetful of God. Instead of being central in our lives we push God to the margins, only crying out to God in moments of crisis or deep need. Our faith withers on the vine.

In a very real sense, as far as our faith goes, we need to use it or lose it. Something, perhaps, for all of us to ponder. The good news is that every day is an opportunity for a fresh start.

So, if your faith is feeling flabby or neglected, say your prayers, read the Bible, receive the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of our Lord, talk about your faith with others, reach out to someone in need. You will be surprised at how much healthier your spiritual life begins to feel.

Taking time out

Mark 3.7-12

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Mark’s gospel is a fast-moving account of the life of Jesus, from his baptism by John at the River Jordan to his Resurrection (the longer version of Mark ending with the Ascension). Between them is a rich collection of events which make for a breath-taking read.

This reading is from only the third chapter of Mark but already Jesus has called the first disciples, healed a man with an unclean spirit, healed many at the house of Simon, preached around Galilee, cleansed a leper, healed a paralytic, taught his disciples about fasting and about the sabbath, and healed a man with a withered hand.

At this point Jesus heads for the Sea of Galilee with his disciples, accompanied by a great crowd of followers from across the region. Not surprisingly, he needed to take time out and find space away from the pressure of so many needy people wanting his attention. Such need is mirrored elsewhere in the gospels where Jesus takes himself away to be still and pray. He needed time to gather himself, to be in tune with his Father’s will, and to be strengthened for the next steps of his ministry.

There is an important lesson there for us all. Even Jesus needed to care for himself, and he did so by stepping away – albeit for brief moments of time – from the pressing demands placed upon him. Even Jesus. While none of us face the intensity of human need with which Jesus was confronted, we all have pressures and demands placed upon us by life. The needs of family and friends; the challenge to earn a living and pay our bills; the pain of illness; the experience of loss and grief; the frightening challenges of a world with so many desperate crises. These things will crowd in and overwhelm us if we are not careful.

So, let’s be encouraged to follow in the footsteps of Jesus who knew his own need to find space to breathe physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Let’s find a little bit of space in our day, and in our week, for some time out to recharge and pay attention to our wellbeing. Moments of quiet and stillness, time to reflect and pray, opportunities taken to do things that feed our souls.

The importance of such things cannot be overemphasised because each, in their own way, can help give us the strength to go back into the fray and carry on, facing the demands placed on us as Jesus faced his own. Taking time out was necessary for Jesus. How much more so, is it necessary for us.