Wednesday, 16 December 2020

 Advent – God and crooked lines



The 17th December heralds in a new phase of the Advent liturgy.  It is a time of heightened expectations expressed in the drama of the great anticipation. 

This time has its own special antiphons for the Breviary and in particular the great O Antiphons which are also reflected in the liturgy of the Eucharist for these days.  These antiphons have been set to some of the most beautiful music we have.

I wrote about these antiphons here https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/32037454/116632818796573691 .  They reflect the longing and hope of Israel which were fulfilled in Jesus.

The Gospel reading for the 17th that ushers in this period is the genealogy of Jesus Christ according to Matthew (Mt 1:1-17).  This text is so important it is also read at the Vigil of Christmas.  

So, what is it about a list of names?

In the culture of Israel and the Jews of the first Christian communities, genealogy tells us who that person is.  It is their identity; their credentials.  Matthew’s community would be familiar with this from their Jewish heritage.  They would have known each of these ancestors.

Matthew divides the generations into three parts of fourteen ancestors.  Mostly, men are named but there are four women who are significant.

This list of names of patriarchs and kings who were leaders of Israel, were called by God to serve their people.  Some did well others didn’t.  We have the patriarch Abraham and his dynasty of Isaac and Jacob and their descendants; Boaz, a wealthy landowner becomes the husband of Ruth and ancestor of King David who became the measure against which all kings were gauged.

Yet these men were imperfect.  Abraham was more than willing to slaughter his son at God’s behest; he was devious in passing his wife Sarah off as his sister to save himself; he expelled his concubine Hagar and her child to fend for themselves. 

Isaac, like his father passed his wife Rebekah off as his sister and he is tricked into giving his blessing to Jacob the younger son.

Jacob was devious in tricking his father and certainly no model of parenting as his favouritism towards Joseph led to his brothers hating him and trying to kill him.  Instead, Joseph was sold as a slave.  Fortunately for this dysfunctional family, Joseph rose to power in Egypt and gave them shelter.

This brings us to the women in the genealogy.  Judah is one of Jacob’s sons.  Tamar was his daughter-in-law but both her husbands died.  Judah refused to have her marry the third son and sent her away.  She dressed as a prostitute by the roadside and from her liaison with Judah became pregnant.  When Judah found out he ordered her put to death.  However, Tamar had items which he had given her and produced these, thus saving her life.  Judah admitted his liaison and brought her back into the family.

Tamar is considered a heroine because under the levirate marriage laws, the son she bore would continue the dynasty of her deceased husband.  By refusing to have his third son marry Tamar he broke this significant custom.

Rahab was a prostitute in Jericho when Israel was entering the promised land.  She helped Joshua’s spies escape from Jericho.  After Jericho fell, it is said that only Rahab and her family were spared.  In certain texts, Rahab married Joshua.

Ruth, was a Moabite, a race hated by Israelites.  It is a beautiful story (The Book of Ruth) of fidelity to Naomi, her mother-in-law and to her deceased husband.  Ruth eventually marries Boaz and they become the grandparents of David.  Again the levirate marriage customs formed part of the story.

The fourth woman, goes unnamed in the genealogy but we know her as Bathsheba.  She is powerless against the authority of the king. King David sees her bathing and desires her to the point that he arranges for her husband Uriah to be killed in battle.  We have this king who is one ‘after God’s heart’, an adulterer and a murderer.

It is unusual for women to be named in a genealogy but each of these women is considered a heroine in Israel.  They had questionable reputations and put themselves at risk.  Through them, the line of the Messiah is ensured.  Mary is the only other woman mentioned in Matthew’s genealogy and she too stands in line with these heroines.

These men and women in Jesus’ genealogy stand out as at times devious, foolish, venal, victims, outsiders (think of Ruth the Moabite and Rahab the Jericho prostitute).  At the same time, they are God’s beloved through whom God patiently weaves the threads of salvation history. 

They weren’t perfect individuals. The Scriptures do no shy away from recounting their failures. In the midst of the complexities of human life, they stayed faithful to the Holy One who blessed them, called them to repentance and through them the desires of Israel were fulfilled.  They are the line of the messiah.

I take consolation from this genealogy.  The Holy One is patient, chooses us as we are and invites us to allow ourselves to grow into wholeness.  We are part of the great story of salvation history that Jesus’ ancestors lived. 

If we wait until we are perfect or until circumstances are perfect, we have missed the whole point of Incarnation – that God is with us.

This is the key to understanding this history given by Matthew.  He begins and ends the Gospel with ‘God with us’.  He adds to Isaiah 7:14 – Jesus’ name ‘Emmanuel’ is explained as ‘God with us’.  Matthew ends the Gospel with Jesus in Galilee sending out his disciples to make disciples of all nations with the promise ‘I am with you all days, until the end of the age’ (Mt 28:20)

As my mother used to say, ‘God writes straight on crooked lines’.

All I can say is, ‘Thank goodness’.

Thursday, 3 December 2020

 

Advent is here! 

Advent is my favourite liturgical season with the profound poetry of Isaiah (mainly) which we Christians read as the coming and the Reign of God.  We see Isaiah’s words in the Gospel texts that tell us that these promises are enfleshed in Jesus and will come to fruition when the Parousia, the final day arrives when ‘Christ will be all in all’.

So, the liturgy talks about the coming of Christ in human flesh and the final fulfilment.

However, what happens in between?  What do we, God’s missionary disciples, the Body of Christ here and now make of them?

The promises

Until 16th December, the texts of the first readings, both weekdays and Sundays, make great promises about this time:

Swords will be turned into ploughshares

No more training for war

We will walk in the light of the Lord

The wolf lives with the lamb

There will be no more weeping because God will hear our cry

Every tear will be wiped away

There will be an abundance of food

The deaf will hear and the lowly rejoice

Tyrants will be no more

We will be consoled because sin will be no more (p23)

 

The Anointed One and the Anointed Ones

When that first community read Isaiah in the light of the Incarnation, they saw the promises fulfilled in Jesus’ life summed up in Isaiah 11

A spirit of wisdom and insight,

A spirit of counsel and power

A spirit of knowledge and of fear of the Lord….

He does not judge be appearances,

He gives no verdict on hearsay,

But judges the wretched with integrity,

And with equity gives a verdict for the poor in the land.

His word is a rod that strikes the ruthless,

His sentences bring death to the wicked.

Integrity is the loincloth round his waist,

Faithfulness the belt about his hips.

 

However, for us, baptised into the Body of Christ, they are also the qualities of the missionary disciple for we are the living presence of Christ in whom the Reign of God is fulfilled.  This is our mission. This is our great dignity.  These great poems of Advent are also about our identity. 

We have been entrusted with peacemaking, justice doing, relief for the poor, freedom for captives….  Precisely because we are the living face of this Jesus, the Anointed one, Incarnate and Risen.

It may sound too large for us humans who often muddle along.  Too big for ordinary people.  Yet this high calling is grounded in our daily encounters.  Each time we treat someone with respect, recognise in another our sister or brother, forgive, speak for those voiceless, bring relief to those suffering no matter how small our ways, they send ripples out to who knows where.

As we live these gifts daily in the community of faith, we create places of fraternal friendship and welcome.  We transform the world.

Conversion

The texts of Advent call us to repentance, conversion – ‘If you had been alert to my commandments your happiness would have been like a river….’ (Is 48:17-19).  We are asked to turn to the Holy One and be saved.  From what? 

We cannot enter into the joy of the Holy unless we care for all those God asks us to care.  We shut ourselves out but the Holy One waits for us.

Personally, I think we need to turn from limitations of mind and heart to embrace the extraordinary dignity and mission God has gifted us with. Our prayer and our actions embrace both our neighbour and the world. The great Rabbi, Abraham Heschel wrote that we are the shape of God in human history.

If there is one thing this pandemic has brought home to me is that we survive only when we see our lives as a network of relationships with all humankind and all creation.  To wear a mask is not only to protect ourselves but it is an act of love for others – people we may never know.  We wash hands, keep distance and isolate ourselves, for those we love but also for those we may never know.  This is redeeming friendship.  What Pope Francis in Fratelli tutti calls ‘fraternal friendship’.

The contagion of the virus made me think about how close all our encounters are, whether they be human or with the rest of creation.  We share breath when we speak, we share DNA, we share the air we breathe.  We saw pollution levels drop and wildlife return to the cities. We most truly are related on a deep level of God’s creation. 

The conversion Advent asks of us is to be converted from exclusive individualism to community knowing ourselves to be sisters and brothers.  It asks us to expand our horizons to include the whole world; to expand the circle of love to people who are poor, hungry, alone, lost, despised, the stranger; to act with justice and honesty in all one’s interactions with people and all creation. 

This conversion of Advent is a daily movement to see as God sees, to love as the Holy One loves.  To see as the God of Jesus sees.  Our truth is that we live in a network of relationships with all creation.  The Triune God so loved the world that the Second Person entered into creation to be its glory, crown and redeemer. 

As the Holy One says, ‘with an excess of love I will take you back’ (Is 54:1-10). Daily, momentary conversion God embraces us.

Of course, this is all God’s doing, the Spirit inspiring us.  We have the promise, ‘…my love for you will never leave you and my covenant of peace with you will never be shaken says the Lord who takes pity on you. (Is 54:10). 

To answer my question, ‘what happens in between’? Christ comes to us to transform us into his likeness and in turn our faithful acts of love make this visible.

‘We have promised great things to God

and

God has promised even greater things to us’

St Francis of Assisi



Monday, 26 October 2020


 


The Canticle of the Creatures

Recently I needed to prepare an introduction to St Francis’ Canticle of the Creatures.  The Canticle was to be the prayer opening to a talk on Laudato si given by Peter Arndt, Executive Office, Catholic Justice and Peace Commission, Brisbane.

Introduction to the Canticle

The title of Pope Francis’ encyclical, Laudato si is taken from The Canticle of the Creatures by St Francis of Assisi.

It is thought to be the first hymn ever written in ‘Italian’ i.e. in the Umbrian dialect.

First of all, a word on the Umbrian word ‘per’ usually translated ‘through’ or ‘for’.  It is ambiguous as it can mean through, in, for or with.  So, the Canticle is praise of God through, in, for, with all creation.

The Canticle can sometimes be perceived as a sentimental, romantic hymn to creation.  This is to misunderstand it.

The Canticle arose from St Francis’ profound mystical relationship with the Divine incarnate in Jesus - ‘the Lord of Glory who became our brother’.  He is Friar Jesus, our brother.  He is at the same time the Divine Word through whom all things were created, thus Francis’ reverence for the brotherhood and sisterhood of all creation rests in Jesus who became one of us.

Creation is the primary revelation of Divine creative love and in Jesus’ flesh-taking this creative Parenthood of God is made visible.  So, we and all that is created are sisters and brothers through the Parenthood of the Father and the flesh-taking of the Word in the creative power of the Spirit.

Francis wrote the Canticle over a period of time.

The first verses were written in 1224/5 when he was living in a darkened hut in the grounds of St Clare’s monastery, San Damiano where he was being cared for by Clare and her sisters.  Francis was blind and in pain from having his eyes cauterised.  From time to time the hut was infested with mice. 

From this darkness the verses of praise burst forth.

The second part was written to broker peace between the Mayor of Assisi and the Bishop.  Their sworn hatred for each other developed into violent factions in the city.  Francis wrote the verses about forgiveness and sent his friars to sing it asking the Mayor and Bishop to ‘listen carefully’.  Peace was restored.

The verse welcoming Sister Death was written at the Portiuncula around 3 October 1226 as Francis lay dying.  He asked to be placed naked on the ground so he could meet the God he loved in total poverty as did Jesus.  Surrounded by the friars and Lady Jacopa di Settisoli, he dictated these verses and asked his brothers to sing Canticle.

It is written by eyewitnesses that Francis died singing.  It is said that when he died, though it was night, the larks of Umbria flew into the sky and sang.

So, the Canticle celebrates the mystical insight into the Divine and all creation.  It is about faith, gratitude, wonder at the gift of the Holy One who became one of us.  It is sings of the deep relational truth of creation and so how to live.

Often science has to catch up with the mystics.

The Canticle

Most High, all powerful, good Lord, 
Yours are the praises, the glory, the honour, 
and all blessing.

To You alone, Most High, do they belong, 
and no one is worthy to mention Your name.

Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, 
especially through my lord Brother Sun, 
who brings the day; and you give light through him. 
And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendour! 
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon 
and the stars, in heaven you formed them 
clear and precious and beautiful.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Wind, 
and through the air, cloudy and serene, 
and every kind of weather through which 
You give sustenance to Your creatures.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Water,
which is very useful and humble and precious and chaste.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Fire, 
through whom you light the night and he is beautiful 
and playful and robust and strong.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Mother Earth, 
who sustains us and governs us and who produces 
varied fruits with coloured flowers and herbs.



Thursday, 28 November 2019

The Advent Wreath


The Advent Wreath
I was asked today the significance of the Advent wreath.  So, with Advent only a few days away, here is my response.
Of recent years, Advent wreaths have taken on many forms both religious and secular.  It interests me that at least the greenery and the circular wreath remain a Christmas ornament without Christian significance.  It has become part of our secular culture.

Origin
The origin of the Advent wreath lies in Germanic pagan culture when, in the dark of winter, lights were lit and the circlet of evergreen leaves symbolised the return of new life.

The Christian Advent wreath was developed in Medieval Europe, originally in Germanic cultures.  This pagan symbol helped Christians express the meaning of this liturgical season.  Like so many things, it was how Christianity became embedded in a culture.  By using existing symbols, people were able to express their Christian faith in intelligible ways for that time and place.

As a small excursus:  Pope Francis, in his journeys in Asia has encouraged people to express the Gospel in terms of their own culture, not European culture.

Greenery
In the Northern Hemisphere, winter with its darker days, cold weather and deciduous trees, Earth seemed to sleep or even die.  The evergreen trees held on.  They were life.  I remember, when I lived in Florence, Italy seeing green Christmas trees in an overcast grey piazza at twilight.  The green shone with light and life and the smell of the trees lifted the spirits.

So, the evergreen symbolises life, hope, survival and renewal.

The circle
The circular wreath reminds us of the eternal Trinity without beginning or end.  This Triune dance which holds all creation in being.  It also symbolises our destiny – eternal life in the Life of the Trinity.

As with the evergreen, we are prompted to live in hope.  In the words of the liturgy, ‘as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Saviour, Jesus Christ’

The candles
There are four candles – three purple and one rose in colour.  These are the liturgical colours of Advent.

Purple is the colour of penitence.  We use it in Lent.  We use it in Advent.  The penitential aspect of Advent is joyous and hope-filled.  It’s a bit like spring cleaning and for us in the Southern Hemisphere this may be a useful analogy.  We make space for Jesus.

The Scripture readings in the liturgy emphasise God longing for us, our longing for God, clearing the pathway for the Holy One, making space in our lives for God to fill us.  It is about embracing the Reign of God here and now and to come at the end, whether our personal end or the final Parousia when Christ will be ‘all in all’.

So, the purple of penance is to keep the spring cleaning going, not as an end in itself but for space for God.  And to continue the analogy, this includes material things (caring for those people in need) as well as attitudes (both psychological and spiritual) which do not reflect the Gospel.

The Church wears purple for three Sundays of Advent – first, second and fourth. 

However, the liturgy is wise and knows we need a breather so the Third Sunday of Advent is Gaudete Sunday, taken from the first word of the Entrance Antiphon, Gaudete – Rejoice!  We are given a breather, a time to rest, refocus and rejoice.  So, the liturgy wears rose (or pink).

Lighting the candles
On the first Sunday of Advent, the wreath is blessed and the first candle is lit and accompanied by prayer.  The second Sunday, the first and second candles are lit; the third Sunday, the first, second and third (Gaudete) candles are lit until we come to the fourth Sunday when all four are lit.

Some wreaths have a white candle in the middle which symbolises the Christ child.  This candle is lit with the other four on Christmas eve.

Conclusion
The Advent wreath and the ritual lighting of the candles helps us focus on and live the great story of Advent, the coming of our God in human flesh and blood and this same God will welcome us at our ending and all creation’s ending in this present form.  St John writes ‘Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.’1 John 3:2)

So, Advent is a time of joyful, expectant penance (house cleaning) as we wait in hope and we know that our hope is never, ever in vain.

For other pieces about Advent see:





Sunday, 3 February 2019


The Home-grown Prophet

The Gospel reading for today is one of the keys to understanding Luke’s theology.  In the liturgy, the first part was read last week and the second part this week.  We read Luke 4:14-28

14 Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news about him spread through the whole countryside. 15 He was teaching in their synagogues, and everyone praised him.
16 He went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written:
18 “The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
    because he has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
    and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
19     to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”
20 Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him.21 He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”
22 All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips. “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” they asked.
23 Jesus said to them, “Surely you will quote this proverb to me: ‘Physician, heal yourself!’ And you will tell me, ‘Do here in your hometown what we have heard that you did in Capernaum.’”
24 “Truly I tell you,” he continued, “no prophet is accepted in his hometown. 25 I assure you that there were many widows in Israel in Elijah’s time, when the sky was shut for three and a half years and there was a severe famine throughout the land. 26 Yet Elijah was not sent to any of them, but to a widow in Zarephath in the region of Sidon. 27 And there were many in Israel with leprosy in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was cleansed—only Naaman the Syrian.”
28 All the people in the synagogue were furious when they heard this.29 They got up, drove him out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff.30 But he walked right through the crowd and went on his way.

Luke has Jesus arriving in his home town fresh from his confrontation with the devil and a successful preaching tour of Galilee.  Luke writes that ‘everyone praised him’.

Jesus, the observant Jew (as was his custom) joins the worshippers in Synagogue on the Sabbath.  He is invited to read the haftarah from the Prophets (Nevi’im).

There are a couple of questions here:  Jesus could obviously read.  It has been generally accepted that most people of the time were illiterate.  However, more recent research questions this.  Secondly, was Nazareth affluent enough to have its own separate Synagogue and could afford to own a scroll of Isaiah.  However, these are questions for another time.

Jesus reads from the text of Isaiah 61:1-2 and his commentary on this text proclaims that it is now fulfilled.  At this time there were already messianic interpretations of this text and these deeds were primary tenets of Judaism.  No controversy there.

Note that his hearers were very impressed indeed - All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips. ‘Isn’t this Joseph’s son?’ they asked.

Now I must admit that I have taken their question ‘Isn’t this Joseph’s son?’ as a rather cynical version of ‘Who do you think you are?  You grew up here, we know you.  Don’t get above yourself.’  However, in the context of their admiration, this does not work.

So why does their admiration turn to hostility?

First of all, Jesus seems to provoke their hostility with his response.  He immediately sets out to deflate their admiration and throws back the question, do here in your hometown what we have heard that you did in Capernaum? 

Do they want spectacle? Are they asking for the welfare of the town? Do his Nazareth neighbours and relatives believe they are in a privileged position because he is a local boy becoming famous for healing and preaching?  Can Jesus read their faces and their minds as they listen to him?  As a perceptive communicator, he probably could. 

However, more significant than that he knew the demands of social connections which put family, clan, tribe, nation first in all obligations of relationships.

He cites the stories of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath and Elisha healing Naaman the Syrian – both foreigners.  The context Jesus places these stories in is that they received help and healing when Elijah and Elisha could have done the same thing for their own people, Israel but went outside the borders instead. 

It was the preferencing of the foreigner rather than those of the prophets’ own tribe and nation that got Jesus’ listeners angry.  It was not because gentiles received care – the Jews had generally good relations with the Gentiles[i] even to having the Court of the Gentiles in the Temple.  Preferencing strangers would mean that the social ties embedded in Jesus’ culture were being set aside.

At the heart of Jesus’ preaching and that of the early Jesus community was profound inclusiveness and equality.  The Reign of God was the priority and the measure of all things.  All shared an equality of love, compassion, justice. 

I suggest that this is what turned their admiration to blazing, murderous anger.  He placed his townsfolk’s (probably most of Nazareth’s population were related or belonged to the same tribe) assumption of social privileges though family and tribe in the context of the Reign of God in which all people shared in the same privilege.

Consistently in the Gospels, Jesus replaces the priority of social ties with that of the Reign of God.  He promises rewards to those who leave all for the Reign of God, he praises Gentiles for their insights, praises the persistence of the Syrophoenician woman for her love for her child.  The Reign of God demands priority and is the context for all relationships.

This is not to deny the embedded social ties, it is not to reject family, culture or nation.  These ties may be strengthened and transformed. It is to see them all through the astounding and sometimes shocking inclusivity of the Reign of God.  There will be times when social ties with be rejected or questioned, there will be times when we question our culture and nation if we take this inclusivity seriously.

Trouble is, this universal sisterhood and brotherhood is fine if they all look and think like me.
Now, there’s the daily conversion.


[i] There was a strong missionary aspect to Judaism of the time. 
This is what the Lord Almighty says: “In those days ten people from all languages and nations will take firm hold of one Jew by the hem of his robe and say, ‘Let us go with you, because we have heard that God is with you.’ Zechariah 8:23


Sunday, 6 January 2019


The Magi – again

In a previous post[i] I wrote about the story of the Magi in Matthew’s gospel.  However, some articles I have recently read prompted me to think more about this story – as well as the feast, of course. The Christian Church celebrates this event as The Epiphany, THE showing forth of Jesus – King and Divine.

The liturgy emphasises this feast as the revelation of Jesus to the gentiles and uses texts from Isaiah and contemporary prophets.  However, there are other, less obvious allusions as the story is awash with connections to the Jewish Scriptures.

I wonder how differently first century Jews and gentiles would have heard this coming from different cultures. 

The Magi.
Huqoq Synagogue
Gentile royal courts had astrologers/astronomers/soothsayers/scholars i.e. magi to advise the ruler.  The Israelites were not to use such people.  Leviticus 19:31 prohibits the use of soothsayers – ‘Do not turn to mediums or seek out spiritists, for you will be defiled by them. I am the LORD your God.’
 
Josephus records the astrological signs foretelling the fall of Jerusalem.[ii]

Philo, a contemporary of Jesus, writes disparagingly of magi.  He refers to Balaam (Nb. 22f.) who was a gentile prophet called to curse Israel but instead under the influence of God prodigiously blesses the approaching people.  Philo calls Balaam a ‘magus’ and turns him into a figure of ridicule.  Balaam’s she-donkey had more intelligence than he.

It is also interesting that Balaam came from the Euphrates River – the east – to Moab.
However, the reality was that by the first century synagogues were decorated with zodiacs and some Rabbis used astrology. 

So, this is the lens through which the visiting Magi would have been viewed.  They were astrologers and gentiles to be looked upon with suspicion, if not ridicule.

The Magi, seeking the King of the Jews, went to the normal place one would find a king of the Jews – the royal court in Jerusalem.  Ironically, Herod was Idumean, not a Jew. He was one of the most brutal, murderous and paranoid of rulers so these travellers actually put the child’s life at risk with their questions of Herod and set off a chain of mass murder and escape.

It is interesting that Matthew writes that Herod and all Jerusalem (not one of Matthew’s favourite places) were frightened – terrified - by the news.  This new king could only be seen as a political threat.  Already Matthew is contrasting the kingship of Herod with that of Jesus.

It took a dream to warn the magi not to return to Herod with their discovery of the child.  In turn, this increased Herod’s fury at being duped and precipitated the slaughter of the children.
So, the magi are not presented in a very positive light by Matthew. 

Looking at this background, with a murderous king, a vulnerable family and a group of court astrologers who initially got it wrong, we see one of the great themes of the Gospels – the great reversal.  Jesus is not to be found in the places of power.  His reign is completely antithetical to that of Herod.  The gentile astronomers, outsiders, for all their mistakes, worshipped.

The magi acted out of their own cultural and class expectations.  While it is obvious from the text that they knew the Jewish Scriptures or at least the Jewish expectations, it was obvious that they did not understand.

After seeing the child and his mother, worshipping him and giving their gifts, Matthew writes that ‘they returned to their own country by another road’.  This is more than safety against pursuit, this is for all who have encountered Jesus, we return to our own country, our own lives changed.  We take a different road, perhaps seeing differently, more thoughtful, more observant of the great reversal brought about by this birth.

The Star
Star of Bethlehem flower

For people of this period, stars were not as we understand them.  Stars had a ‘voice’.  They were living beings.  Philo wrote that ‘stars are living creatures, but of a kind composed entirely of mind’.
In the Scriptures, all creation is under the Creator’s authority.  Unlike pagan belief, stars, trees, etc. are not of themselves divine.  When God takes Job on a voyage through creation, God asks, ‘On what were its (the earth’s) foundations laid, or who set its core in place while the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?’

Balaam pops up again.  At the end of his many blessings of Israel he proclaims that 'A star will rise from Jacob; a sceptre will emerge from Israel.' (Nb. 24:17)

Much literature has been generated establishing the star as a supernova.  It may be so, however, for Matthew the star is at the service of the Holy One.  Here creation is revealing the identity of Jesus.  The magi worshipped him because they, in the contradiction of a child born in a humble house, is not only a king, but divine.  So, creation, in the star, is proclaiming Jesus as the Holy One of God.
For the Jews, stars act as guides and do God’s bidding.  So, the star leading the magi, is understood to be this being who is doing the Creator’s bidding in leading the magi to Jesus.

The gifts
The gifts brought by the magi have antecedents in the Scriptures.  The Queen of Sheba (like them, a gentile) came to Solomon to test his wisdom. 
Now when the Queen of Sheba heard about the fame of Solomon concerning the name of the LORD, she came to test him with difficult questions.  She arrived in Jerusalem with a very large caravan, with camels bearing spices, gold in great abundance, and precious stones. (1 Kings 10:1)

Never again was such an abundance of spices brought in as those the queen of Sheba gave to King Solomon. (1 Kings 10:10)

These are the gifts fit for a king.
Queen of Sheba Orchid

However, there is also another association with this story.  The Queen says:
She said to the king, “The report I heard in my own country about your words and wisdom is true.  But I did not believe these things until I came and saw with my own eyes. Indeed, not even half was told to me. Your wisdom and prosperity have far exceeded the report I heard.  How blessed are your men! How blessed are these servants of yours who stand continually before you and hear your wisdom!  Blessed be the LORD your God, who has delighted in you to set you on the throne of Israel. Because of the LORD’s eternal love for Israel, He has made you king to carry out justice and righteousness.” (1 Kings 10:6f)

 Conclusion
So, like the magi, we will make mistakes.  For Matthew, the astrologers’ visit to Herod unleashes murder and the escape of Mary, Joseph and Jesus to Egypt.  Matthew invites the reader to see that God’s salvation is not impeded by evil. 

Both gentiles and Jews fail to understand this momentous event until they come to worship and contemplate.

I take heart in this as we live in a time when disaster seems to be more prevalent than goodness.  This Fleshtaking of the Holy One asks us to join in this Reign of God and like the magi and the Queen of Sheba contemplate Wisdom incarnate.

And go home another way.


[ii] Thus were the miserable people persuaded by these deceivers, and such as belied God himself; while they did not attend nor give credit to the signs that were so evident, and did so plainly foretell their future desolation, but, like men infatuated, without either eyes to see or minds to consider, did not regard the denunciations that God made to them. Thus there was a star resembling a sword, which stood over the city, and a comet, that continued a whole year. (Book IV, Ch 5, Sec. 3)


Tuesday, 2 October 2018




The Guardian Angels
For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways
(Ps 91:11 Lk 4:10)

I remember a conversation many years ago with a with a colleague about angels.  It went something like this:
Me:
Lovely feast day today, the guardian angels.  Just imagine actually seeing them when we live in the fullness of God.
Her:
No such thing as angels.  God doesn’t need them.
Me:
Well, I hope that my guardian angel looks like a Fra Angelico angel with big, bright, colourful wings and playing music.
Her: 
Rubbish!

Well, that put an end to that conversation.

Since then, I have discovered that for the Hebrews, influenced by Mesopotamian and Babylonian angels, angels probably looked more like this (except when the visiting angel was not disguised as a human): 


Our images of angels owe more to the Roman image of the winged Victory.

 


To add to this, as a young person I always thought of them as ‘she’ rather than ‘he’.  What a shock – in all their images they wore long dresses and looked like girls.  Entry into the Catholic Church soon put me right.  They are neither but we still call them ‘he’ by default.

I rather like the great fierce creatures of Babylonian imagery. They convey strength, purpose, reverence and security.  The light touch of Fra Angelico’s angels conveys speed, lightness, beauty.  Both, in their attempts to imagine that which is beyond our imagining touch on the two important functions of angels in Scripture – guarding/protecting and messaging/communicating.

So, whatever our images of angels, for me they embody a deeper mystery – the mystery of creation as community.

Throughout Scripture all creation (from creation to Parousia; from the earliest form) is one interwoven fabric and humankind is part of that fabric.  

As the living icons of the One who Creates, our fidelity or lack thereof and our moral choices influence all creation.  In Scripture, this is not metaphorical, but a very real influence.  Our role is to serve created reality as God’s true images.

Scripture tells us that creation rejoices in the Creator.  The Psalms are full of it.  The angels are part of this rejoicing, collaborating creation and it seems that part of their role is to guard, protect, inform, encourage, remind humankind in our attempts to be the Face of our creating, redeeming God.

The communion of saints reflects this understanding of the community of creation.  Death does not end this communion of life.  We pray for and to those who are now in the fullness of God, believing they are not only still ‘interested’ but see clearly now that which has been experienced ‘though a glass darkly’ (1 Cor 13:2).  The angles are part of this great communion of life that is no longer available to our human senses.

So, the very nature of creation is community.  We belong to each other and strive to act with mercy towards each other – and the ‘other’ whether bacteria, animals, rocks, trees, people or creation we only see through faith, we are sisters and brothers to each other.  That is how we are the icons of Divine Triune Love.

I am constantly unsettled by the profound egalitarian nature of the Reign of God revealed in Jesus.  Grounded in his Jewish heritage, he preached a community that goes beyond blood relations, tribe, nationality, likes and dislikes.  

This community is a sign of the community of revealed and redeemed creation – the interwoven relatedness of all – even the ‘all’ we cannot yet see.

So, I see this feast today of the guardian angels as celebrating those beings of spirit who rejoice with us and guide us in the community of creation.  Each of us has our role and responsibility and gift for our joy and the life of the whole.  So, our angels guard, guide and enlighten – they help us be who we are created to be.

I leave you with the story of Balaam and his she-donkey (Nb. 22). 
Balaam was sent to curse Israel. His she-donkey saw the angel.  Balaam didn’t.  She changed course and stopped.  Balaam got angry with her.  She still saw the angel so she just lay down on the road.  Balaam was so angry he beat her.  The Lord opened the she-donkey’s mouth and she spoke with great reason. 
Then the Lord gave the donkey the ability to speak. “What have I done to you that deserves your beating me three times?” it asked Balaam.
“You have made me look like a fool!” Balaam shouted. “If I had a sword with me, I would kill you!”
“But I am the same donkey you have ridden all your life,” the donkey answered. “Have I ever done anything like this before?”
“No,” Balaam admitted.
Then the Lord opened Balaam’s eyes, and he saw the angel of the Lord standing in the roadway with a drawn sword in his hand. Balaam bowed his head and fell face down on the ground before him.
“Why did you beat your donkey those three times?” the angel of the Lord demanded. “Look, I have come to block your way because you are stubbornly resisting me.  Three times the donkey saw me and shied away; otherwise, I would certainly have killed you by now and spared the donkey.”
Then Balaam confessed to the angel of the Lord, “I have sinned. I didn’t realize you were standing in the road to block my way. I will return home if you are against my going.”
 Now there’s a story worth thinking about.
Pax et bonum.