The Lord's My Shepherd!

“Moses said to YHWH, “But, never in my life have I been a man of eloquence,

either before or since you have spoken to your servant.” Ex 4:10

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B:

The Lord's My Shepherd!

Mark's Gospel this weekend (6:30-34) describes the return of the disciples from their first mission and inauguration into apostleship. They are exhilarated and exhausted, and have stories to tell Jesus of healings, exorcisms, and the effectiveness of their preaching the good news. Perhaps there were darker stories of their failure and rejection that they need to process privately with Jesus their master and teacher. Whatever the need, Jesus senses that his disciples need a break. They are tired, overstimulated, underfed, and in need of some prayerful healing solitude.

Jesus, himself, is not in top form. He has just lost John the Baptist, his beloved cousin and prophet, the one who had baptised him and had spent a lifetime in the wilderness preparing his way. Worse, Jesus has lost him to murder by Herod, a terrifying reminder that God's beloved are not immune to senseless, violent deaths. Maybe for Jesus his own end, feels closer. It is possible, he is grieved and heartbroken. He says to his disciples as the crowds throng around them at the edge of the Sea of Galilee "You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest a while." In the words "Come away" I hear both tenderness and longing. Yes, Jesus wants to provide a time of rest and recuperation for his friends. But he is weary, himself; the need that he articulates here is also his own.

In this event, I get a chance to glimpse the human life of Jesus, a life I can relate to easily. His need to withdraw, his desire for solitary prayer, his physical hunger, his sleepiness, his inclination to hide. These glimpses take nothing away from Jesus' divinity; they enhance it, making it richer and all the more mysterious. They remind me that the doctrine of the Incarnation truly is Christianity's best gift to the world. The God 'through whom all things were made' as the creed professes: hungers, sleeps, eats, rests, withdraws, and grieves. In all of these ordinary but necessary ways, our God is like us. He's also like us in that sometimes, his best-laid plans go astray. The needy crowd anticipate his plan, and follow on foot. By the time he and his disciples reach their longed-for destination, the crowds are waiting, and the quiet sanctuary Jesus seeks for himself and his disciples is nowhere to be found. Does Jesus run? Does he turn the boat around and sail away? No. As Mark puts it, "Jesus saw the huge crowd as he stepped from the boat, and had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began to teach them many things."

The shepherd is a recurring image in both Testaments. In the Old Testament, the shepherd and the king are associated or joined together. Israel longed constantly for another shepherd king like David, but were often disappointed. Jeremiah (23:1-6) criticized King Zedekiah and others like him. “Doom (woe) to the shepherds….” They were supposed to gather and lead God’s people, instead their neglect scattered the flock. The consequences of such poor and corrupt leadership were dire: Jerusalem was destroyed and the people were taken into exile. Jeremiah makes a dark promise. God will take back the flock and shepherd them. God will rescue them by sending a righteous leader who has the heart and mind of God. God fulfills the promise made to the people. Jesus is the promised shepherd who will gather and feed God’s weary flock.

Jeremiah promised a shepherd king like David "who will reign and who will be wise” who will "who will practice honesty and integrity in the land.” By our baptism each of us is called to continue the mission of shepherding like Jesus and it can be very tiring! We do that in daily, unofficial ways by how we teach and set good example for others, especially the young. Did you notice what Jesus, the shepherd, did immediately when they disembarked and saw the needy crowd? He taught them. We don’t want our young to have a false notion of God, or a diminished notion of their worth before God. So we teach. But we also need some reflective time ourselves to dwell on God’s Word, lest our teaching be more about idols we fashion from our own thoughts, than about our shepherd Jesus.

Some of us are engaged in full or part-time ministry within our church community. What Jesus said to his disciples is true for us as well. We need to figure out how to “come away .. all by ourselves” for short and occasionally longer periods, to hear the Word of God for ourselves, and those we are called to shepherd through our teaching. The bottom line: all of us are sent to share our knowledge of Jesus, a knowledge that 's not primarily found in books or doctrine, but as a result of our personal encounter with Christ.

I write this reflection, as a comfortable middle-class Australian, and it is too easy a temptation for me to pass on compassion's responsibility to someone else. Whether I'm looking at the needs in my own circle of influence, my seemingly self-sufficient neighbours, or the wider community, it is tempting to tell myself that nothing urgent is at stake. Everything can wait, because I'm not the only person on the planet or in the church. Not much really depends on me. Or does it? However, this week's Gospel reading is about the ongoing and necessary tension between compassion and self-care. The gospel reveals to me that Jesus also lived with this tension. Still, the point is valid, we all need to figure out how to get to our own “deserted places.” That might be a few minutes in the car before we go to work; a pause in the yard after we put out the garbage at night; a walk in the park; turning off the television, the phone and just sitting; listening to any music that helps us go inward for a brief period. Not all attempts by Jesus to withdraw to a quiet place were frustrated.

On the one hand, Jesus was unapologetic about his need for rest and solitude. He saw no shame in retreating when he and his disciples needed a break. On the other hand, he never allowed his weariness to overwhelm his compassion. He realised in this situation, that he was the last stop for the aching, desperate crowd "who were like sheep without a shepherd." Unlike me, his personal boundaries were finally less important to him than his desire to love others. Is there a lesson here for us? Is it strive for balance? Recognise weariness when you feel it? Don't apologise for being human? Take breaks? Yes. All of these are essential things. But maybe also and most importantly this: We live in a world of dire and constant need. Sheep can die without their shepherds. There are high stakes, and sometimes, what God demands of our hearts is costly. While balance remains the ideal, it will not always be available in the short-term. Sometimes, we will sometimes have to bend out of balance. If that happens, what should we do? In what direction should we bend? If this week's Gospel story is our example, then the answer is clear. We need to decide for authentic compassion. Jesus did. The gospel is not encouraging us to be work-a-holics, but shepherds.

At our Eucharistic celebrations we are often like the scattered sheep. Jesus, our shepherd, gathers us from the many places where we live, work and spend our days. What we have in common and what draws us to this special pasture, is the faith that, with our shepherd we are well cared for, nourished by the Word of God and the living Body and Blood of Christ. The shepherd does again what he has done before: he sends us out well fed to return to the places where each of us is called from to be shepherds. We do not go out on our own, but are strengthened by the Holy Spirit, that was Christ's source of strength in his humanity as he set out to shepherd God’s needy people. So we pray; "Jesus you are my shepherd, I have everything I need."

Finding Pains Purpose

Moses said to YHWH, “But, never in my life have I been a man of eloquence,

either before or since you have spoken to your servant.” Ex 4:10

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B:

 Finding Pains Purpose

The lectionary readings for this Sunday are rich in meaning for us. The young Ezekiel (2:2-5) is empowered by the Spirit to "stand up" before God and to listen. It can take great courage to listen deeply to what God wants of us and to follow God's mission for us in life. God assured the young Ezekiel that the unfaithful Israelite community "shall know that there is a prophet in their midst." A prophet is 'a truth speaker' with deep insight. I believe all of us can be an Ezekiel wherever we stand in life. The Spirit will give us the needed courage. In Mark's gospel (6:1-6), Jesus experiences rejection in his own "home town" because as he said "a prophet is only despised in his/her own country." The people who he grew up with thought they knew him and could not let him be for them who he was. They saw him as someone 'ordinary' and were "astonished" by his wisdom and power as a miracle worker. They could NOT BELIEVE and ACCEPT him as he revealed who he was to them. Rejection can be painful and I am sure Jesus felt their response to him deeply. "He was amazed at their lack of faith." What lenses of perception limit us?


In the reading from 2 Corinthians (12:7-10), Saint Paul learns through prayer that God's power is made perfect in his weakness: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong. (9-10) Paul who had been given so many special graces now has to endure what he describes as a "thorn in the flesh" the scripture scholars do not know exactly what the thorn was, although many have tried to have an educated guess. He realised that the 'thorn's purpose was to keep him humble and relying on God. It seems to be so easy for us who are striving to be spiritual to become 'ego inflated' and start thinking that we can somehow achieve spiritual holiness all by our own efforts. Helen Keller who was born deaf and blind said: "I thank God for my handicaps, for through them, I have found myself, my work and my God." It is all to easy to try and become something that we are not. All of us disciples of Christ have to come to terms with the fact that true spiritual growth comes from coming to terms with the pain of life's limitations. We have to be willing to move beyond what keeps us comfortable.


Our spiritual lives, begin in weakness and ignorance; we never suspect that anguish, a sense of loss, profound changes of heart and mind, dark nights of soul and spirit, the confusions of power and powerlessness of the soul’s unfolding journey. Like so many of life’s endeavours, if we knew what we were in for, we would probably never have begun. When pain comes into our lives it seems so easy for us to cry out to God for healing. I know a man who was a most energetic and gifted helper of others. When he had a stroke and became disabled, his self-image of being an able helper was shattered. But all through his rehabilitation he learnt the difference between healing and curing, self-will and God's will. He eventually came to learn despite his tears and tantrums, that healing does not mean going back to the way things were, but allowing 'WHAT IS' NOW to move one closer to God. Like St Paul and many others before him, he found the blessings that can only be found in the pain and limitation. "God does not see as humans see."


So to be like Ezekiel or Paul we need to the Holy Spirit for the strength for daring to find courage to set forth on the unknown path of faith. Somewhere along the way we will awaken to the immensity of our endeavour. Finally, we must summon a deep grace-inspired courage to continue and by God's grace to unexpectedly find ourselves with a deep acceptance of what is. The French poet Guillaume Apollinaire writes; "Come to the edge, he said. Come to the edge, he said. We are afraid, they said. Come to the edge, he said. They came to the edge, He pushed them and they flew. Come to the edge, Life said. They said: We are afraid. Come to the edge, Life said. They came. It pushed them... And they flew.” The power of God's grace is given for us to help others, not ourselves, a power that does not force or coerce others to do our will. Like Saint Paul we learn to place our fate in God's hands accepting our weaknesses and limitations, and like Ezekiel to accept God's Spirit and the word God speaks that empowers us to "stand up" for truth.

23rd Sunday after Pentecost

Andre-Rublev's Saviour

Homily preached at Winmalee by Br Simeon on  Sunday 16th November 2014:

 


23rd Sunday after Pentecost year A.

Gospel: Matthew 25:14-30

In today’s gospel we heard the parable of the talents.  Which on the surface seems a little harsh.  We all know, if not worked for, people like the master.  I must admit I have some sympathy for the slave who simply hid the money and returned it.  Of course that slave is the one who did not use the talent he was given and so his reward is appropriate, albeit harsh.

What is Jesus trying to tell us here?  That we should go out and invest what money we have and make more?  That sounds like it might be wavering into the prosperity preaching.  No I don’t think Jesus is talking about money.  True the word talent in the biblical sense means a measure of weight.

Roughly the weight of the amount of liquid it took to fill an amphora.  And yes I suppose we could look at the parable in that sense.  But we can also move beyond such a literal use of the word into one where we understand the word in the sense of gift.  And if we use this sense, then the parable has a whole different purpose.

The master has given his slaves gifts that they are to use in the growing the masters domain.  We are not told what the gifts are, just that different slaves have different ones.  The master has an expectation that they will use those gifts to the best of their ability and create growth.  Two of the three do this, the third does not.

The master doesn’t expect anymore, than what he believes each slave is capable of, but he does expect some sort of return.  Which is why the slave who simply hid his gift, and did not use it, is treated with such disdain.  Now so far I’ve been careful not to draw us into the parable, but that’s about to change! And I strongly suspect you all knew it was coming.

We have all been given gifts.  We all have different abilities and strengths. Some of us are very good at things that others couldn’t even start to do.  The best example perhaps is an artist, some people have the gift of drawing, while others no matter how hard they might like to have the gift, simply don’t.

But having the gift is only the first part of the equation.  The gift has to be used in order to be developed and to be of benefit to the person and others.  If the artist doesn’t draw, then the art that they could create remains hidden, buried, and underutilised. Sound familiar?

So what is the gift you have?  Are you using it or is it hidden away were no one can see it.  of course some people have great difficulty in understanding what their gifts are.  They are so blinded by those of the others, or in their own fears that they lose sight of the precious thing they have been given.  Remember what the third slave said “I was afraid so I went had hid your talent in the ground”.  I suspect that slave had a severe lack of self-confidence.

Yes it is easy to give into the fear of: “No I can’t do that”, but this will not see the gift grow.  We need to be like the other 2 slaves.  Take our gifts, gird up our loins and use the gifts to the enrichment of the gospel and for ourselves.  And when we do this, who knows what we could and would achieve.

When God says to you, so tell me my child, what use did you make of the gifts I gave you?  I know what I’d like my reply to be.  Do you what yours would be?

Br. Luke