On Sauntering

 

The Creek

Over the past couple of years, I have been able to go for regular walks, something I have not been able to do for many years because of a chronic health condition.  Walking sometimes happens but mostly it is sauntering.  On these excursions I am always accompanied by my miniature poodle, Leo.

Thanks to these saunters, I have discovered many things – the joy when a rhythm of movement takes over and I feel my body is walking me effortlessly; gardens, parks and trees; wildlife and other walkers and the local dogs.  Dogs are the best conversation openers.

One of my favourite walks is along a nearby creek either in the early morning or late afternoon.  I enter the surrounding open parkland from a busy suburban road and built up suburbia, to open space giving me a sense of large sky and horizon and then the path leads to the tree lined creek walk which enfolds the path in shade.  Here the wildlife flourishes – fish, water dragons, birds of many sorts.

We owe the flourishing of this creek to the persistence of one local man who, over many years has taken it upon himself to regenerate the creek environment.  Over time the city council and a nearby school have contributed to the regeneration process which is still underway.

This lone man has energised both local government and local people to care for this waterway which, before the regeneration was a polluted tip for rubbish from plastic bags to shopping trolleys. 

Along the way, people, children and dogs more often than not exchange greetings – a smile, a ‘morning! greeting, dog pat or short conversation.  I am not sure we know each other’s names but we do know the names of the dogs and the children.

I return from these walks refreshed in spirit and understand why Hilaire Belloc claimed that the word ‘saunter’ comes from the Old French terre sainte.  Others claim the word comes from Middle English meaning to wonder, to muse.  The latter emphasised it as a thought process.  Belloc emphasised a way of walking on holy ground. 

These meanings coincide for me. 

These saunters enable my encounters with my ability to be enjoyably active, the beauty to be found in the familiar and the graciousness of people open me to the Mystery.  I return to my home with hope, gratitude and joy renewed.

There is much suffering in the world – the land and sea, the creatures and humankind – and humankind appears to be in denial.  However, in these moments of graciousness I am reminded that goodness abounds – one man’s perseverance brings life to a creek and starts a movement, people adopt rejected and cruelly treated greyhounds, others accompany elderly or disabled people on walks, families take time to play together and dogs, well, dogs just want to talk to everyone.  A smile, an encounter says, ‘I acknowledge you.  You exist.’

I am reminded again and again that the Holy took flesh and became one with all creation, not because creation was bad, but because we are more beautiful and treasured than we can imagine.  Christ is not only ‘through whom all things were created’ but Risen, he is the crown of creation.  All images fall short of the committed love of God for us.

We see tokens of this love in the abiding love of family and friends and those who hunger and thirst for justice. 

These momentary glimpses of fidelity to goodness I have in my sauntering are tangible glimpses of the Holy always present, always nudging us to see and respond and enlarge our hearts and minds.  They reaffirm goodness already present and too often unnoticed. Goodness is contagious.

My sauntering creates a silence within me that allows me to see the familiar (even myself) with newness, wonder and gratitude.  I, like everyone else, learn well when I take time to attend.  So, I return home with renewed hope, trust and joy in the God of Jesus who dwells among us in surprising ways.

In Advent we have two great invocations: ‘Come Lord Jesus’ – the great cry Maranatha and ‘Awake!’  God in Christ, the Risen One is both always present, always coming and always seeking us. 

May we be awake to the Holy One in the surprising goodness with which we are surrounded and bask in the moments.

The prodigal son

In the liturgy for 4^th Sunday of Lent Lk 15:1-3; 11-32

In SS 15:1-32

Context

Luke sets this parable in the context of tax collectors and sinners coming to Jesus and the Pharisees grumbling that ‘this man welcomes sinners and eats with them’. Which may well indicate that ‘sinners and tax collectors’ were unrepentantly still plying their trades.

The stories of the Gospels would have been shared by travelling evangelists at the meal of the Lord’s supper which was shared by the receiving community.

So, the primary context for the story is one of meal sharing which indicates it is telling us something about who Luke’s hearers accept into the sharing of the communal meal and how they welcome them.

The lectionary leaves out two parables in order to highlight this meal context.  However, in the Gospel, the two parables preceding are important.  They tell the stories of the lost coin and the lost sheep.  Now, neither coins nor sheep can repent despite vs. 10.  These parables are about seeking out the lost and the joy of finding.

So, context is important.  It directs us towards the way Luke wants us to understand the stories. Luke is inviting his listeners/readers to keep this in mind.

Parable and Allegory

Allegory is a story form of the Greco-Roman world and one western though has inherited.  Parable is a Jewish form of storytelling.  This is not an exclusive distinction as there are times when the two overlap.  However, Jesus’ first century Jewish listeners would have heard this story as a parable not an allegory. 

The Gospels show a tendency to allegorise the parables e.g., Mark 4 where the original parable to the Sower is given an allegorical interpretation by Mark.  According to scholars, this indicates a shift in the spread of the movement from Jewish communities to the gentiles.

Allegories tend to be for initiates.  They hide meaning which can only be understood by those initiated into the group.  Each character is assigned a particular meaning.  There tends to be one main message.

Parables are stories which are open ended.  There is not one resolution. They must be thought about, played with, looked at from many different angles.  They invite us to think about what is happening in the story, apply it to what is happening in our lives and our world, shake us out of our own perceptions.  They call for conversion. 

In parables, often the characters and events are exaggerated in order to make a point.

For the Jews, the hallmark of a good Rabbi’s preaching was could he tell a good parable that would hold the listeners enthralled, get conversation going and open their minds.

First century listeners

Christian hearers/listeners understand this story allegorically i.e. the father is God, the younger son the forgiven penitent.  Jesus’ Jewish first century audience would have heard this story as a parable with roots in their tradition.  So, let’s look at the protagonists.

The younger son: ‘There was a man who had two sons.’ Think of all the great stories of the Hebrew Scriptures beginning with Cain and Abel, Isaac, Jacob and Ephraim.  The younger son in all these stories is either the hero (even if a bit devious) or to be sympathised with.

Suddenly the audience is horrified, because this younger son does a terrible thing – he wants his inheritance.  He is asking his father to dissipate the family’s (and possibly, clan’s) wealth and security so he can leave the family. 

Which he does, replete with his share of the family’s fortune.  He promptly spends it all on debauchery and ends up looking after pigs.  Pigs!  Unclean animals of the gentiles.  He has compounded the offence.

Now the audience has to readjust their sympathies which in their traditional stories would be with the younger son.  However, this younger son is not a hero.  In fact, he irresponsibly ignores his role in the family.

The listeners may just have to sympathise with the elder son.

When he ‘came to his senses’ and saw that the bright lights of dissolute living and pig herding weren’t doing him much good, his reasons for his return are far from altruistic – the servants (slaves) in his father’s house live better than he does.  He formulates a return plan.

The father:  To give away half of the family’s inheritance would be considered foolhardy.  The role of the father in any large extended family of the time was to ensure the security, both financial and physical of the members of the family.  No one listening of Jesus tell this parable would have been impressed by this generosity.  They would have been shocked.

The Jewish father loved his children, cared for them and mourned their loss.   Children, especially sons were God’s gift to them. There is no question about that.  There is much in the tradition that sets rules/guidelines for the care of children. 

The listener would have seen the father’s acquiescence to the son’s request as weakness and indulgence, not love.

On the younger son’s return, his father is ‘filled with compassion’.  He calls to his servants to bring the robe, the ring and the sandals.  In this way this younger son is welcomed back and fully reinstated into the family. 

The slaughter of the fatted calf is no small thing.  Meat was not generally part of the diet as animals were part of the family’s capital.  This family were obviously wealthy. 

Did all this mean that the younger son would have another share of inheritance?

Would the listeners have perceived this as weakness on the father’s part? 

Will this younger son change his ways?

The elder son:  The elder son is ‘in the field’ i.e., attending to the family duties. It is interesting in this parable that the son’s return is celebrated by his father and servants.  The mother, the elder son and other siblings and family members are not informed of his return.

The elder son has to ask the servants what is going on.  He is angry.  He refuses to go inside and join the celebration meal.  His lifelong fidelity has not been appreciated.  Hurt and anger boil over. This son has been the faithful child and has never been acknowledged or celebrated as that by his father.

The parable ends with the father’s explanation – ‘everything I have is yours’ and this son ‘was lost and been found’.   

We leave the father and elder son standing outside the festival looking at each other. We are invited to consider what might be happening between them.

Has the father learned anything about his elder son?

Can this son trust his father not to jeopardise the family security again?

It is left to us, the listeners, to savour this story.  Parables leave many questions. 

Is this story about family/community relationships?  After all, when we look at the story as being about ordinary people, they are as good and as dysfunctional as any family whether it was first century or today.

Luke sets it directly after the parables of the lost sheep and lost coin, stories about the mission of these small faith communities and their joy when the lost are found.  Is this a parable of how to welcome very different people who have been evangelised by the community?

Given the fact that Luke situates these stories in the context of eating with tax collectors and sinners, is this saying something about the community’s welcome of people who are ‘different’. 

Is the party for the younger son a mirror of the community’s relationships? 

Who should be admitted to the table fellowship?

So, the questions are evoked and the listener/reader is invited to examine their own attitudes, beliefs and actions.

Enjoy playing with this parable.

 

*I am indebted to Amy Jill Levine for her work on the parables in her book Short Stories by Jesus.  This book and work done on the Christian parables by contemporary Jewish scholars transformed how I understood these literary jewels, the parables.