maggi dawn

kindness and generosity

Ian is in full flow  on the hardness and inhumanity that can be fostered by a market-driven society. I like being called back regularly to consider what it is that makes us fully human.

An Unequal Blessing

I had an email recently alerting me to "a great revival" going on in Lakeland, Florida at which (reportedly) people are being healed from profound health or physical problems, and a few (reportedly) have even been raised from the dead. My reaction was not spontaneous joy, but "I don't buy it." Not because I think miracles are absolutely impossible, but because I've come across this kind of revival over and over since i was a teenager, and seen up close what a mix of naivety, imagination and hysteria is mixed in with the faith, not to mention the less forgiveable aspects of deliberate powermongering, hype and fabrication that have gone on in some similar settings. (Steve Martin's Leap of Faith is a fictional version of a fake revivalist, but not too wide of the mark.)

I don't doubt that for some, an initial experience in one of these revivals can eventually result in a genuine life change for the better. For others, though - like the seed that falls on rocky ground - once the revival is over there is neither enough substance to their faith nor an ongoing community to nurture it, and what seemed like faith quickly withers away. For many more, the whole thing serves as an innoculation against religion when they discover that what they think they were promised doesn't materialise. Hank Hanegraaf, host of the "Bible Answer Man" programme, is stark in his assessment: "The vast majority of what is claimed to happen in these revivals …doesn't happen." So revivals may not be all bad, but they are not all good either.

One of the most troubling aspects of these revivals, though, is when they are overlaid with promises of material gain, and under the guise of faith, people start counting on the revival as a down-payment for a lottery win. As others have noted, focusing on a "bless ME" kind of Christianity particularly sticks in the throat in a month where two massive natural disasters have left hundreds of communities bereaved and materially devastated. 

Deconstructed Christian's reaction here. 

High Flight

I spent large chunks of this weekend at the nearby (and totally brilliant) Duxford air museum.  I've been there quite a lot of times in the last couple of years, following my son's interest in planes, and for his benefit, have paid attention, and tried to remember the difference between one kind of plane and another. I've learned quite a lot of names and statistics about wingspans and landing gear and the like. I've rather fallen for the oily smell of the hangars, and grown fond of some of the enthusiasts who volunteer there and seem to live, eat, sleep, breathe aeroplanes. 

Luckily for us, though, Duxford doesn't just restore historic aircraft for museum display, but gets them back into flight as well. Planes in a museum are certianly interesting in their own way, but watching the airshow yesterday, it came home to me that only ever seeing old planes in a museum is a disjointed experience if you never see them fly. If you only ever see them grounded, you lose the sense of what they are built for.

Yesterday afternoon, after a couple of hours of watching assorted war-time planes showing off their possibilities to maximum effect, we walked back through a hangar that we know quite well. The planes hanging from the ceiling suddenly took on a new aspect: now I could see them not just as pieces of engineering history, but as birds that were built to fly.

It occurred to me that a similar thing happens between theology and faith. Theology is, if you like, the "engineering" - the nuts and bolts that you have to slog over and test drive until it will get off the runway. Theology is absorbing and interesting in its own right, just as engineering is. But it isn't an end in itself.  Like old planes, if theology ends up grounded in a museum, you can forget what it's like to "slip the surly bonds of Earth... And dance the skies on laughter-silvered wings".* 

Just for the record, the plane that left me absolutely gobsmacked was this one:

a Bearcat, built in 1945, it goes as fast as a jet although it doesn't have a jet engine. Once it gets up to speed it can turn its nose right up and fly straight up into the sky. A serious goosebumps experience.

*quote from John Gillespie McGee

God in a life behind schedule...

Increasingly, time pressures crowd out the leisurely pace that prayer seems to require. Communication with other people keeps getting shorter and more cryptic: text messages, email, instant messaging. We have less and less time for conversation, let alone contemplation. We have the constant sensation of not enough: not enough time, not enough rest, not enough exercise, not enough leisure. Where does God fit into a life that already seems behind schedule?

Philip Yancey, Prayer, p. 15

Make haste less slowly...

The hon. Member for Middlesbrough, representing the Church Commissioners, was asked—

Livings (Crown Patronage)

7. Robert Key (Salisbury) (Con): How many livings in the Church of England are under the patronage of the Crown; and how many of the incumbents of those livings are women. [204058]

The Second Church Estates Commissioner (Sir Stuart Bell): There are approximately 650 parochial appointments in the gift of the Crown, of which patronage for around 450 is exercised on the Crown’s behalf by the Lord Chancellor. In some cases, the patronage right is shared in turn with other patrons of the benefice; 103 of those appointments are held by women.

Robert Key: There is clearly still some way to go. Does the hon. Gentleman agree with me that it really is time that the Church of England stopped discriminating against 50 per cent. of the human race when it comes to episcopal appointments? Can he imagine this House finding it expedient to agree to any Measure from Synod that sought to discriminate against women, in the hope that it was going to allow women bishops in the Church of England—but not at any price?

Sir Stuart Bell: I am grateful to the hon. Gentleman for his comments. He will remember that this House voted almost unanimously, but certainly overwhelmingly, for women priests way back in 1992. Given that he is a member of the General Synod, he will know that in July it will look at the options for progressing the ordination of women as bishops, informed by the recently published report of the legislative drafting group, chaired by the Bishop of Manchester. This House—in its majority, I think—supports women bishops and we urge the Church in this case to make haste less slowly.

from hansard  8 May 2008 : Column 834

Pentecost Novena

Someone asked me yesterday what the Pentecost Novena is. It's the nine day period of watchful, waiting prayer between Ascension and Pentecost. I blogged about it here if you want the gen.

Female scholars

Rose asked the other day in the comments to Female Bishops, "I am working on some studies, could you recommend your top two female N.T. scholars?"

New Testament isn't really my area, so I have limited knowledge in this. But I do eat my lunch at least once a week with Professor Morna Hooker, whose books & lectures are excellent, and she is a great conversation partner. A much younger, v. interesting British N.T. scholar is Paula Gooder.

Anyone else like to recommend their top two women in New Testament Studies?

another take on Ascension...

(These are the notes for my homily today. The story in the middle is "nicked" - Someone sent it to kathryn, Kathryn gave it to me, I rewrote it freely and sent it back to Kathryn, and we have both now reworked it for our sermons. The original, I believe, is a story by Edward Hays. Reliably informed that Hays has written many more thought-provoking parables and stories like this, I have just ordered several of his books. Go thou and do likewise...)

SUNDAY AFTER ASCENSION, 2008

It’s a common mistake in Sunday School theology to make the Ascension sound like the moment when earth and heaven are separated from each other… as if Jesus looks back at the messy earth, post resurrection, and says, "job done, I'm out of here."  A view of the Ascension that separates God from us, heaven from earth, is a woeful theology, and misses the balletic beauty and completeness of the Easter season. So today I was going to tell you about why we celebrate Ascension, and how it was only by leaving the earth that Jesus could become permanently present with all of us. I was going to talk about how the disciples stood there gaping at the sky hoping he would come back, when what they need to do was go and wait in the Upper Room like he’d told them, so that he could send them his Spirit.

But then I came across an ancient story that I think may throw a better light on the subject. See what you think…

In 1999, some archaeologists were having a New Year's Eve party in a Coptic Church in Egypt, when a champagne cork flew into the air and broke a little part of the ceiling away, revealing a glint of bronze. Abandoning the party, they climbed up and pulled out a container full of old scripts, which contained the sayings and revelations of Abba Sayah, an old hermit who was visited by Gabriel and other heavenly visitors.

One of Abba Sayah’s stories is about the Ascension – a story, he says, that St Anthony told to St. Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory told to St. Basil and Gregory Nazienzus as they sat around the campfire. It’s a story that can’t be verified with any evidence at all.

But there is no doubt whatsoever that it’s true.

As Abba Sayah tells it, after forty days of resurrection appearances, Jesus knew it was time to leave his disciples – his mother, his brothers and sisters, his companions in the Way. It was hard to say goodbye, but he knew that the time had come. After all, he was the truth and we humans can only take so much of that.

So Jesus called them all together on the mountain top, and made his farewells. It was a tearful moment. Mary was crying. John was crying. Jesus was crying. Even Peter, the immovable rock, was reaching for his handkerchief.

They knew that Jesus had said he would always be with them. But they also knew it wasn't going to be the same. There would be no more breakfasts by the seashore, no more late night discussions around the campfire.

Jesus was sad too, but he was glad to be returning to his Father, and he knew it was all part of the plan. And so he began to ascend.

As Abba Sayah told the story, just as Jesus began to rise, slowly and gracefully into the air, John just couldn't bear it. He grabbed hold of Jesus' right leg, and refused to let go.

"John?" said Jesus “What are you doing?” And John shouted back, "If you won't stay with us, then I'm coming too."

Jesus calmly continued to rise, hoping that John would let go. But John didn't let go. And then to make matters more complicated, Mary suddenly jumped up and grabbed hold of Jesus' other leg. "I'm coming too," she shouted.

By now, Jesus’ big exit had obviously been ruined, but he looked up into heaven, and called out: "Okay, Father... what do I do now?" And a voice came out of the clouds, deep and loud like the rumbling of thunder in the distance.

"Ascend!" the voice said.

"Ascend?" Jesus asked?

"Ascend!" the voice replied.

So Jesus continued to rise through the air, with John and Mary holding on until they too were lifted off the ground.

Well, then, ALL the other apostles, not wanting to be left behind, jumped on too. Imagine if you can – a pyramid of people hanging in the middle of the sky. Jesus at the top. John and Mary next. The apostles hanging on below.

And then - what was this?  Suddenly all kinds of people were appearing out of nowhere.

friends and neighbours that had followed them up the mountain.

The crowds he used to preach to.

Old people.

Young people.

Jews and Gentiles.

Men and women.

All of them grabbing the last pair of ankles and holding on.

And above it all the voice of God calling out, “Ascend!"

But all of a sudden, from the bottom of the pyramid, there came the voice of a small child.

"Wait!” he yelled,  “I've lost my dog!  Wait for me”

"I can't wait," Jesus called back, "I don't know how this thing works." But the little boy wasn't going to be left behind, and he was determined his dog was coming with him. So, still holding on with one hand, he grabbed hold of a tree with the other, and held on with all his might.

For a moment, the whole pyramid stopped dead in the air - Jesus pulling upwards, and the little boy holding on to the tree, scanning the horizon for his lost dog.

But Jesus couldn't stop. The ascension had begun, and God was pulling him back up to heaven. 

At first it looked as if the tree would uproot itself.  But then the tree held on, and it started to pull the ground up with it. Sort of like when you pull a rug up in the middle, the

soil itself started moving up into the sky.  And hundreds of miles away, where the soil met the oceans, the oceans held on. And where the oceans met the shores, the shores held on. All of it held on, like there was no tomorrow.

To make a short story long: Jesus DID ascend to heaven, He went back to his natural habitat, living permanently in the presence of God’s endless love and care and wholeness and laughter. 

But, as Abba Sayah tells it, he pulled all of creation – the whole kit and caboodle – everything that ever was or is or ever will be – he pulled it all up into heaven with him.

Archaeologists are still wondering about the authenticity of Abba Saya’s scrolls. Are they revelations from heaven that are more reliable than Luke’s account? Or are they the work of an over-active imagination?

Which was the truth – was it that Jesus came to earth to transform us with the presence of God? Or was Abba Sayah right, that he took earth back with him to heaven?

Whichever way you look at it, the work of Jesus was to transform us and the world we live in by infusing everything with the presence of God.  Heaven meets earth; earth is drawn into heaven.

And, as Abba Sayah said, that's where we've been ever since.

This homily has shamelessly borrowed the story of Abba Sayah; for more go and find Edward Hays books.

----

Noah's Nuggets???

A while back I posted some marvellous "wash away your sins" soap. I never got round to getting some - I'm now kicking myself for not remembering to buy a bottle on a recent trip to the States. 

Now I discover*, amazing but true , that you can buy a totally Biblical treat, and munch your way through "nutrition God's way" with a snack bar containing the seven foods of Deuteronomy. Did Moses order them to be wrapped in plastic, Iwonder?

You can also buy God-is-Love chocolate, Bible Gum, and "Testamints" - the mints with a message.  I can't guarantee that Biblical Sweets won't rot your teeth, just like the normal ones. But they could just make you laugh out loud, especially if you decide to feast yourself on  - wait for it - Noah's Nuggets. Yes, really.  Pause for silent mirthful weeping. (Oh, I'd really better get that soap now...).

*(according to The Times)

Female bishops

The Anglican Diocese of Christchurch, New Zealand, recently announced that Bishop Matthews will be their new Bishop.  The Anglican Church of Australia announced her first female bishop last month.

Meantime, the good old Church of England continues in seemingly endless chicken-licken style discussion. In my more bleak moments it makes me think of Nero fiddling while Rome burned. Fresh Expressions? A Missional church? All around us there are people hungry and thirsty for the story we have to tell, yet all they can hear is our endless circumventions of an argument that is out of date. 

Will we ever see women in the Episcopate? Probably. A while from now. And then another round of hissy fits and arguments. Now, I have no personal career/ministry agenda in this: do not mistake me for someone who would want to be a Bishop. My gifts and inclinations clearly lie elsewhere. And in any case by the time the discussions are over I shall be on the verge of retirement. But I still feel deeply sorry that the Church I belong to continues to maintain levels of its organisation as a boys' club, wastes the talents of women who would be brilliant Bishops, and by inference misrepresents the gospel to the world around us. 

Bishop Alan is on fine form this morning on the subject. Go read.