Saturday, May 28, 2011

Embracing the Unknown God

Who are we? What are we on about? Where are we going? We humans love these questions; and often we fill our lives with all kinds of activity trying to help us answer them. Who are we? What are we on about? Where are we going?

In our reading from the Acts of the Apostles today, Paul confronts these questions as he confronts a new culture—an influential culture; but one not wholly compatible with Paul’s Jewish roots or his profound Christian conversion; and also a culture not completely alien to the deep insights which Paul has come to Athens to share from his experience and understanding of the risen Christ.

Who are we? What are we on about? Where are we going? These were questions that very much interested the people of ancient Athens: a people who prized learning; a people much engaged in exploring big questions in science and mathematics, philosophy and literature, arts and physical culture. They were a people who continually asked why, exploring themselves and their surroundings, searching for greater knowledge of humanity and our environment. Even in their religious beliefs, they were not content that they knew everything that there was to know. Who are we? What are we on about? Where are we going?

So, Paul is depicted as entering into this enquiring culture: a Jew among Greeks, a Christian among worshippers of gods with other names, a public speaker amongst a city of thinkers. His Jewish rabbinical background serves him well. He is intent upon arguing his case, on discussing not just the finer points of theology, but the big picture. He is asking his listeners to dig deep into the big questions and not just skate across the service.

He argued with the Jews. He argued with the Greeks. He argued with the philosophers and the people in the market place. Not that that made him many enemies for the Athenians were a people used to that sort of behaviour and, in fact, quite encouraging of it. The Athenians prized new ideas and thoughts, discussion and debate. They were concerned with exploring the big questions: Who are we? What are we on about? Where are we going?

Indeed, Paul is received well by the Athenian community. The picture of his reception is very favourable indeed, because, as the story goes, he is taken to the Areopagus to speak, to explain the strange, new teaching that he is offering.
The Areopagus is a small, barren, limestone hill, northwest of the Acropolis in Athens. Historically, the Areopagus was the place where the Athenian council had met to pronounce justice. The council, the most respected of Athenian institutions, had at one time performed the function of a senate. At the time of Paul’s visit and following the growth of democracy, the earlier powers of the council were greatly reduced. They did, however, still retain responsibility for the areas of religion, morals and homicide. Whether it was to this council which Paul spoke or not, we do not know. In the time of Paul, it was unlikely that the council actually met at the Areopagus, having moved to a place in the Agora, the marketplace. Nevertheless, the significance of the site to the story should not be missed. Paul is depicted addressing the Athenians on the site of their most respected council’s original home. This discussion is significant; and it is held in a very significant place.

Because of its use, the Areopagus was also renowned for the many incidents relating to the responsibilities of the Athenian council which had occurred over many hundreds of years. Perhaps it was historically true, perhaps just a legend or more likely a mixture of both, but one of the most famous stories about the Areopagus related to the shrines to “the unknown god” or “gods”.

There were a number of altars to the unknown god or gods in Athens. The story went that six hundred years before Paul ventured there, a terrible pestilence had fallen on the city which nothing seemed able to stop. A Cretan poet, Epimenides, had come forward with a plan. A flock of black and white sheep were let loose to run through the city from the Areopagus. Wherever each lay down it was sacrificed to the god whose shrine was nearest. If a sheep lay down without being in close vicinity to the shrine of a god, it was sacrificed to “the unknown god” or “gods”.

That story not only tells us a bit about the shrine “to the unknown god” but also about the importance which the Athenians placed upon their educated people, those who explored those big questions: Who are we? What are we on about? Where are we going? It was Epimenides, the poet, who had been credited with the plan for saving the city and it is Epimenides, to whom Paul appeals, when arguing that “the unknown god” was in fact the God of Christ.

For Paul, like any good preacher, begins his address with something which he thinks is important to the gathered assembly and appeals to the authority of people whom he knows his congregation respects. Since he is speaking to people who prized education and cultural achievements, Paul presents the claims of Christianity in an intellectual and cultural way in a reasoned manner.

Tactfully, he compliments the Athenians on being ‘very religious’. Then he refers to their own poets in making his main point. He notes a nearby altar with the inscription, “to an unknown god” and tells them that this God can be known, that this God is not far from each of them. He uses the words of Epimenides, the poet who brought those shrines into being:
This God whom you call the unknown god is, in fact, “the one in whom we live and move and have our being”. This is the God whose children we are.

Knowing who we are, knowing whose we are, knowing where we come from has a huge influence on our self-understandings, and not just on what we think about ourselves, but what we do arising out of who we are. But sometimes we get it the wrong way round. Sometimes we do a lot just trying to find out who we are; and in the process, we engage in a lot of activity and risk losing whose we were meant to be.

The God whom Paul proclaims, the God whom Paul understands to have come to us in Jesus is “the God in whom we live and move and have our being”. This God is the source of our identity and purpose. This God is the God whose children we are.

The importance of knowing who we are is particularly well-demonstrated for us in Australia by the struggles of Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. Europeans moving into this land stripped them of their land, their culture and their identity. We still witness helplessly the effects of that stripping, of that loss of a sense of who they were as a people; and that’s why things like an official apology to the stolen generations, and a re-writing of the preamble to the Constitution of the Uniting Church to include a recognition of First Peoples are so important. They address the question of identity, of who the people are and where they belong.

Christian people especially must understand the importance of these thing, because who we are has never been about what we do. It’s always been about what God has done in Jesus—about whose we are. In the disconnection of people and land, indigenous Australians lost that to which they belonged.

At the Areopagus, Paul is calling the Athenians to the God in whom they can discover themselves, not because of what they do or have done, but because of what God has done and who God is. This is “the God in whom we live and move and have our being”. This is the God who is the source of our identity and purpose. This is the God whose children we are.

Since arriving in Armidale, that is the message that I have been trying to share with you as a Congregation in order to ground our identity as the people of God in this place, not in what we do, but in whose we are and what God has done for us. I have tried to invite you to rest in God’s gift to us in order that together we might discover the freedom that our identity in Christ gives us. So, there have been many times when we have affirmed our baptismal identity—affirmed that we are incorporated into the body of Christ, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, by God’s grace. In our Elders’ meetings, we have made worship the important focus that it needs to be for the community of the Spirit. Worship is where we are formed as the people of God; and Elders sharing together in worship as key leaders in this Congregation is the most important thing we can do to remember, to remind ourselves whose we are and what God has done for us, in order that we might help this community to rest in our identity as the people of God. Worship here together is the most important thing we do together as the people of God in this place—as we turn our faces towards the God in whom, we live and move and have our being; as we orient ourselves, or rather as we allow God to orient us towards God, we are continually invited to discover the beloved children of God that we are; and out of that continual discovery to be enfolded into God’s mission in our world, not just through our activities as a church, but in our active participation as members of the body of Christ in the society around us. It is the freedom of knowing whose we are, of knowing who we are in God, of knowing what God has done, of remembering that God’s mission is God’s and accomplished in Christ, not ours and done by our own deeds, that will embody our identity in the God whose we are.

Activity is important, but not because of the activity, because of where it comes from. The work of the people of God must come from our acknowledgement of whose we are, of who we are in God; and that acknowledgement begins here, as we open ourselves to the God in whom we live and move and have our being, and invite that God to embrace us as beloved children; and as we hear the gracious words of that God again and again: “Your sins are forgiven.” “You are my people.” “I will not leave you alone.” “I have prepared a place for you.” “You are my beloved children.” “In me, you live and move and have your very being.”

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Stone Upon Stone

A stone… to hurt… to shelter… to throw… to gather…
to wound… to sculpt… a weapon… a blessing… a stone…
A stone… to control… to protect… to divide… to gather…
a barrier… a bridge… a weapon… a foundation… a stone…
A stone… to build a dividing wall… to lay a roadway…
to shape an obstruction… to smooth a connection…
a weapon… a faith… a stone.
(Adapted from Seasons of the Spirit, Year A Easter 5, 22 May 2011.)

Stones… Human beings have done an awful lot with them: an awful lot for good and an awful lot for harm. So today in our readings, we have a mixture of stone imagery… Stephen, the first Christian martyr is stoned to death in the 7th chapter of Acts. In Psalm 31, God is our rock and refuge. In the first letter of Peter, the disciples of Christ are identified as “living stones” to be placed on the great living cornerstone, Jesus Christ, in order to build the people of God. And though the stones are not mentioned in the reading from the Gospel of John, the house of God is—and in that imagery stones are not far away. Stones to build… and stones that kill…
My father’s [house] has many rooms,
with room for all God’s children,
as long as we do share his love,
and see that all are free.
(Words & music by Pete Seeger. © 1966 Stormking Music Inc.)

But we are a menagerie of a people… and we are very human… stones that build up… and stones that tear down…

When I was a child, my image of God’s house was something like one of those cartoon houses with the small front door and entry at the bottom and rooms which kept popping out all over the place on the floors above. It never toppled over although it always looked like it would. And there was always more room for more rooms. They could just pop out anyway, anytime, whenever one was needed for a new member of God’s family. I don’t remember ever believing that God actually lived in a real house just like that, but it seemed a good picture to have in my mind for the type of house God would have if God needed a real house like the one I lived in. God’s house wasn’t made of weatherboard or bricks obviously, but there was always room for all God’s children, whomever, whatever, and however they presented themselves.

God’s house, God’s oikia, God’s household, is made of stones… living stones… very human living stones and we are a ragtag collection of odd-shaped rocks… stones that fit easily… and stones that stick out in odd ways…

Have you ever built a stone wall? Or perhaps you’ve visited one of the great historical stone walls like Hadrian’s Wall in the UK. Stones are not bricks… They are not neatly shaped and ready to put into an orderly pattern. They come in all different shapes and sizes; and, if they need to be put together, the act of fitting them into one another is truly and art… stones that fit… and stones that need a bit of a trim to fit… stones that need a bit of shaping in order to contribute to the stability of the wall… or the house.
My father’s [house] has many rooms,
with room for all God’s children,
as long as we do share his love,
and see that all are free.
(Words & music by Pete Seeger. © 1966 Stormking Music Inc.)

When I was fourteen, three friends and I decided that we would write a musical to be performed for our Sunday School Anniversary. The Anniversary was scheduled for October. We began our enterprise on a day late in the Christmas holidays, sometime in the previous January. It wasn’t long before we had decided that the musical would be about Stephen, the first Christian martyr. That story is contained in just two chapters in the book of Acts; and it is conveniently arranged into several short episodes which made it the perfect storyline for a musical of about 45 minutes. It was at our second meeting that we decided on a theme that began as our working title and eventually became the performance title for the musical: “In His Image”.

This title originally came out of our recognition that the story of Stephen’s death, the passage that is one of our lectionary readings for today, was very much a parallel story to the death of Jesus. In the story of Stephen’s stoning, he cries out in two very similar utterances to those which Luke also records Jesus crying out on the cross. In Luke 23, Jesus says, “Forgive them, Father! They don’t know what they are doing.” In Acts 7, Stephen cries out in a loud voice, “Lord! Do not remember this sin against them!” In Luke 23, Jesus commits his spirit into the hands of God. In Acts 7, Stephen asks Jesus to receive his spirit. Stephen, the first Christian martyr is depicted by Luke as being in Jesus’ image—a living stone in the shape of the great cornerstone. Stephen is well and truly a chip off the old block.

As we read and re-read the Biblical text of the story of Stephen and consulted commentaries and other resources, we came to see just how closely the life of Stephen recorded in Acts did reflect the life of Jesus: even more closely than we had first realised.

In Acts 6, Stephen is described as one “richly blessed by God and full of power” who “performed great miracles and wonders among the people”. Stephen is opposed by some Jews and ultimately brought before the High Priest’s Council where he delivers a long speech rehearsing the faithfulness of the ancestors of the Jews and finally accusing his inquisitors of failing to live up to this great tradition of faithfulness to God. It is this meeting which leads to Stephen’s condemnation to death: a death by one of the more horrible ancient means of the taking of life, stoning. There are very close parallels between the story of the life of Jesus and that of Stephen. Stephen is truly depicted as being in the image of Christ, a chip off the old block.

There was one more connection, however, which needed to be made before our title “In His Image” achieved its full potential as a succinct way of describing our approach to the story of Stephen. That connection is very aptly described in our Gospel reading for today, although for us it began in the text from which the original phrase “in the image” had been gleaned.

In the first creation story, in Genesis 1, the story of the creation of humanity is recorded thus:
Then God said, “Let us make humanity in our image, after our likeness... So God created humanity in God’s own image, in the image of God, God created them; male and female God created them.” (Gen. 1:26a, 27)

It is our belief as Christians that Jesus fulfilled this vision of humanity in the image of God, being both perfectly human and perfectly God at one and the same time. It is a difficult concept to grasp. In fact, it defied the rationality of the Greek philosophy which the early Church attempted to employ in order to describe such a miraculous and mysterious event and it continues to defy our understandings of scientific rationality today. Yet this is what we believe: that in Jesus, God was so truly present for humanity that in recognising Jesus, we recognise God. In the Gospel of John, Jesus is recorded as saying “Whoever has seen me has seen God” (John 14:9).

Even more miraculous is the promise that we too can be reflections of the image of God; living stones being built on the one great cornerstone; chips off the original block; stones in the house of God. The Gospel of John records Jesus as saying, “I am telling you the truth: whoever believes in me will do what I do - yes, they will do even greater things, because I am going to the Father” (John 14:12). One of very early theologians put it this way: God became human in order that we might become divine.

But we are a ragtag collection of odd-shaped rocks—a real menagerie of members of the household of God. We are rocks that need shaping and fitting together. And that is God’s wonderful promise to us:
My father’s [house] has many rooms,
with room for all God’s children,
as long as we do share his love,
and see that all are free.
(Words & music by Pete Seeger. © 1966 Stormking Music Inc.)

A stone… to hurt… to shelter… to throw… to gather…
to wound… to sculpt… a weapon… a blessing… a stone…
A stone… to control… to protect… to divide… to gather…
a barrier… a bridge… a weapon… a foundation… a stone…
A stone… to build a dividing wall… to lay a roadway…
to shape an obstruction… to smooth a connection…
a weapon… a faith… a stone.
(Adapted from Seasons of the Spirit, Year A Easter 5, 22 May 2011.)

“Father forgive us for we know not what we do…”

“Lord Jesus, receive our spirits…:”