FRED’S PASS (NORTHERN TERRITORY)
ORDINARY SUNDAY 23
(8th SEPTEMBER) 2013
Readings: Jeremiah 18.1-11
Psalm
139.1-5, 12-18Philemon
Luke 14.25-37
Perhaps the greatest
theologian of the last century was Swiss Protestant theologian Karl Barth,
whose Commentary on Romans,
effectively re-written and republished in the aftermath of World War One, in
1922, changed the face of European theology
and the witness of the church, it seemed irreversibly. In the years leading up
to the Kaiser’s expansionist megalomania Christianity had been largely reduced
to a tribal or technically nationalistic religion, a convivial agreement on the
fatherhood of God and the brotherhood – sisters were largely irrelevant – of man.
God was a tribal God, to be rolled out in times of national pride. God was a
totem. With God on our side, as Bob Dylan acerbically noted half a century
later (and half a century ago) we will “win the next war.”
After four years
of brutal, bloody stalemate and unprecedented and universal loss of life, Barth
saw clearly that there was no room for a tame and tribal or nationalistic God.
As he turned his attention with renewed energy to the biblical text Barth saw
again and again that God is the God who will be neither tamed nor questioned. Barth
saw too that God is not a God to whom we can rationalise a way, but is the God
who reveals divine selfhood uniquely and solely and even illogically in the
scriptures of the Jews and the Christians.
I place my cards
on the table: I believe Karl Barth to be the theologian par excellence for our time too. However unpopular it might be, I think it is
very dangerous when we begin to recreate God in our own image. Of course we
need to assess whether we are not doing that in subtle and evil ways: have we
made God into a European, a male, have we made God racist or sexist or homophobic?
Where there are texts that appear to justify these assumptions we need to test
them, and we will make mistakes – the Spirit of God is greater than our
mistakes! I believe sometimes we need to dig beneath the surface level of the
texts, the prohibitions and the black and the white, and wrestle in amongst the
reasons and the circumstances really to break open God’s commands. (I should
add, for those in the know, that I wrote this before I knew that the Anglican
Diocese of Auckland, my previous Diocese, had voted no to same sex marriage: just
as I accept the outcome of a national election, so I accept the democratic
processes of that diocese!).
What Barth saw
clearly, primarily from his reading of Romans, but of course also from Paul’s
reading of Jeremiah, is that the pot is not in a position to manipulate the
potter. This has huge implications for all of us – and particularly for those
of us who dwell in the liberal end of theology (always acknowledging that I
speak of me, not necessarily you!). It is a particularly dangerous text for
those of us who take the risk of preaching, for it means – unless I happen to
be Abraham or Jesus – I have little basis for arguing or bargaining with God. I
must accept – though I am human and I will struggle – but I must accept that
God’s, not mine, is the divine perspective, and that even the vicissitudes of
my own existence are ultimately God’s choice, not mine. It’s a tough call, and
I know that this control freak, for one, is unlikely ever to get it right: “not
my will, God, yours be done”, these are amongst the hardest words in the
biblical text.
This means, too,
that we cannot nor should we escape the penetrating stare of God. This of
course is parodied in some circles: I doubt if God is particularly interested
in our bodily functions – except when we use our drives and energies to prey on
and oppress others. It is there that
sexual and other predators in the church have sinned brutally – but that
includes those who use the power structures of the church to, as Paul would put
it, tear down and not build up, to destroy the human spirit, to turn seekers
away from Jesus. Predators and other oppressors within the church must always
know that this is the line of responsibility they have dared to cross – and all
of us must know we are capable of crossing it, but for the grace of God. God is
watching us – but not with the ogling stare of a voyeur, but the caring,
compassionate stare of a lover.
Christianity and
its God are somewhat on the nose in 21st century society. It was in
fact also so at the time the First World War was building up to its demonic birth,
but perhaps those parallels can be pushed too far. Our complex God is parodied
as a fairy in the sky and an imaginary friend – though nothing is new under the
sun and Christianity has been there before, and for many parts of its history. The
parallels though should not be ignored: at the end of the nineteenth century
Christians were creating God in their own image rather than in the image of the
unpredictable Jesus. The images in which we recreate God in the 21st
century are more to do with personal lifestyle or arguably genetic footprints
than the tribal nationalistic preferences of a hundred years ago, but the
lesson remains the same: God is not either a national toy or a piece of logical
deduction made in the image of our own preferences. God is not gay, green,
blue, left or right, but about justice and righteousness and holiness and a
whole host of matters that are not necessarily politically chic or even logical
– much less convenient.
As
Christ-bearers, though, like the Christians of the early centuries, we have a
responsibility: we are called to proclaim and to be conspicuous in our service
of a God as revealed in the scriptures, a God who cares. God cares for the
sparrow that falls. Our God is a God who is revealed in love and justice and
righteousness and holiness, not dogma or personal preferences or skin colour or
lifestyle (the predatory excepted, which is clearly demonic). We have to make
sure that our lives are so opened and disciplined in the awareness and service
of that God, in immersion in scripture and in fellowship and in worship and in
compassionate works, that we are a part of those creative and justice-proclaiming movements of the Spirit. We need to ensure that by our disciplines of faith
we are the Christ-bearers that we long – hopefully – to be. That is to be the
house built on firm foundations. None of that inclusion in the purposes of God is a free ride, but application and hard labour.
TLBWY
1 comment:
Nice!
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