Chapter 11 - "It's everyone's job to make sure I'm ok"

Awareness

 I grew up in a town less than twenty miles away from Dunblane.  And yet, I don’t think I had ever heard of Andy Murray’s home town, until one horrific day in March 1996.  I was 12, a year or two into high school.   And we had never known anything like what happened that day, so close to home.

 On 13 March 1996, Thomas Hamilton walked into Dunblane Primary School, armed with four handguns, and opened fire on a class of five and six year old children in the school gym hall.  One teacher and sixteen children were killed, and as many more were injured in the massacre.  The shooting ended when the gunman turned his revolver on himself.

 This was the worst mass shooting ever in the UK.  And it is made all the worse by the nature of the attack.  This was a merciless attack on innocent children.

 In the wake of the massacre, there was a sea change in attitudes, and policies, about child protection.  Children are vulnerable, but also extremely valuable to God.

The greatest

 In Matthew 18:1-5, we read the disciples of Jesus asking him who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

 Jesus answers them by getting a child to stand among them, and he says, “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.  Therefore, whoever takes a humble place – becoming like this child – is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven…”  I think there’s a couple of things to think about here.  In the first place, I think the disciples are confused.  They’re not thinking in God’s way, in the kingdom way.  They ask a question about the kingdom, but they don’t understand it.  They seem to think that it has a pecking order, that it’s a competition for status within God’s kingdom… But Jesus puts them straight, by showing them a child, who wouldn’t have had a lot of status in their world.  And so Jesus says, be like this child, accept a humble place, don’t get ideas above your station – in fact, don’t worry about status at all.  Then you’ll be the greatest.  That’s how God’s kingdom works: the last are first, the humble are lifted up.  I’ll never forget my former boss Alan Burns, when he conducted the dedication of our daughter, talking about this story.  And he illustrated very graphically what happened.  The disciples would sit on the ground, around their master.  So they’d be low.  And then Jesus has the child stand among them.  Stand.  So this child is suddenly above them.  This little, insignificant figure is towering over them.  They look up to the child.  That says all they need to know.  Who’s the greatest here?  The child is head and shoulders above them…

 The way to get ahead in kingdom life is to be humble, to come as children before God.

 In fact, the child image shows us so much about how we should live in God’s kingdom: we are to live as children of our heavenly Father, dependent on Him, obedient to Him.

 But then Jesus says something really amazing:  He says that, “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.”  Why is this amazing?  Well, it says that Jesus identifies Himself with children.  He says if we welcome a child, we welcome Him.

 Later on, in Matthew 25, Jesus says that whatever we do for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick or the prisoner, we do it for Him.

 Jesus identifies with the little ones, the ones the world would call the ‘least’.  He’s in their corner.  And so, the child is important to Jesus.  Every child is important to Jesus.  And if every child is important to Jesus, every child must be important to us.

Causing harm

 In Matthew 18, and from verse 6, Jesus talks about the little ones, particularly the little ones who believe in him.  So, who does he mean, who are these little ones who believe in him?  Well, by the context, little ones might mean children.  Or it might mean those who are humble, like children.  Literally, it means ‘the least’.  It means those of low status.  This would include children, but I think it’s wider than that.  I think Jesus is talking about all those of low status, those seen as the least in the world: the children, the vulnerable, the marginalised, the poor, the voiceless…

 And when Jesus talks about these little ones who believe in him, does he mean those who come to church every Sunday?  Perhaps.  Does he mean those who have made a decision and prayed a prayer to follow Him?  Maybe.  But it might also mean those who are seeking him, those who are trusting in him, who are looking to him to help them.  And that could be a wider group – especially since some of these people don’t even know that it’s Jesus they’re looking for…

 So Jesus says that anyone who causes one of these little ones to stumble, or to sin, anyone who offends one of these little ones – well, there’ll be trouble.  It’s a big mistake, this really winds Jesus up.  You see, what he’s really talking about here is people hurting the little ones.  If anyone causes any hurt to one of these little ones, it’s really bad news.

 And hurting the little ones – the children, the vulnerable, the poor, the voiceless – can take many forms.  There’s physical violence and abuse – things that are done; as well as verbal abuse – things that are said; there’s neglect – things that are not done, needs that are not met.  And of course, we might think of spiritual abuse, which is perhaps the most obvious reference here – where one might damage the spiritual well-being of the ‘little one’, might cause something to come between the little one and God.

 Jesus has very stern words against those who might cause any hurt to any of these little ones, especially those who might have come to him for refuge…

 And we might think, “This is a church, full of good, Christian people…”  But sometimes we can cause hurt quite accidentally and unknowingly.

Wandering sheep

 In Matthew 18:10, Jesus says, “See that you do not despise one of these little ones.  For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.”  When Jesus says, do not despise, he’s really saying don’t look down on these guys, don’t have a low opinion of them.  These little ones, whether children, or vulnerable people, or poor people – whoever the world sees as lowly, as the ‘least’ – we’ve not to think of them that way.  Instead, we are to be humble ourselves.  Because we’re all little ones.  We’re all vulnerable in one way or another.  We’re all God’s children.

 And then Jesus tells the story of a lost sheep, a wandering sheep.  If someone’s got a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, won’t he leave the ninety-nine in safety, and go after the lost one?  Imagine the parent in the supermarket with their child, and they turn round, and the child’s gone missing… I think that’s the kind of story Jesus is telling here, this wandering sheep is like the child who’s gotten lost.

 And of course, there’s all these other sheep, who are safe.  So, Jesus says, the owner of the sheep can go and find this lost one, in the knowledge that the others are all safe.  I wonder if part of that safety comes from their being together.  They can look out for each other, keep each other safe, but the one out there on its own needs more care and attention…

 So, again, there’s a sense that Jesus is talking about someone who’s been one of us – a follower of Jesus – who’s lost their way a bit, and needs finding again.  But, if we go back to what Jesus said earlier: “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me”, then we’re reminded that Jesus identifies with the ‘least’, the last, the lost.  And, our Father in heaven is not willing that any one of these little ones should perish, or should be lost.  God wants all his children home.

 If Jesus is bringing the lost sheep home (in whatever form they take), and rejoicing about it, let’s join in!  Let’s welcome the lost sheep, let’s keep them safe, let’s allow them to enjoy life to the full.

Suffer the little children

 In Matthew 19:13 and 14, we read of the disciples telling people off for bringing children to Jesus.  But Jesus says, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

 Children, like everyone else, matter to Jesus.  And we have a responsibility to make sure that they can enjoy worshipping God freely, that they can enjoy healthy relationships with God, with other children and adults, and to make sure they are safe.

 In my previous life, before becoming a Salvation Army officer, I worked in a special needs school.  And I’ll never forget the child protection training we received there.  The thing that stuck the most was, we were told about a little girl, perhaps five years old, who was asked, “Whose job is it to make sure you’re OK?”  She replied, “It’s everyone’s job to make sure I’m OK.”

 She was right.  And I think Jesus says to us, it’s everyone’s job to make sure each person, the youngest to the oldest, regardless of status, is OK.  There’s a proverb, perhaps African, that says, “It takes a village to raise a child.”  In other words, all children, and for that matter, all people, are formed by their environment, by their community.  What kind of community are we, for shaping people?  What kind of children, or adults, are formed in our community?

 Perhaps we have to look at our lives, under the light of the Holy Spirit, and ask if we are hindering anyone, or causing anyone to stumble or be hurt.  Do we hold attitudes that are not like Jesus.  Are our actions unlike Jesus?  Do we need to ask God, and allow Him, to change us?

 I think God made children on purpose.  I think childhood is a vital stage in our development.  Children must be allowed to be children – to enjoy, experience and express their childhood in healthy, natural ways – otherwise, they’re missing out on a key stage of development.

 Perhaps, though, this all speaks to us as followers of Jesus too.  If we’re not developing naturally as Christians, we’re not going to grow into healthy, mature Christ-likeness.  And perhaps that means we have to ask questions – to allow ourselves and be allowed to ask questions, to help us to grapple with our faith, to own our faith.

 I think Jesus, in this whole passage is saying, first, that we have to come to Him as children, and second, we have to welcome and safeguard and look after little ones – whoever they may be…

Chapter 10 - The Elephant in the Closet

Issue

 Ok.  So there is, in our day, a big issue which causes division and exclusion, especially in the church, it must be said.  And no book on Jesus and the little people can overlook this.  It’s an elephant in the room (or, in the closet, might be better).  It’s the issue of homosexuality, and the area of gender identity.

 I call it an issue – we all call it that.  But this is not about issues, it’s about individuals.  We must not see a problem, but people.  New Testament scholar Scot McKnight, in his excellent book on biblical interpretation, The Blue Parakeet, points out that biblical interpretations – and that is what all readings of scripture are – can be challenged when confronted by new ‘data’, which may render a particular position untenable.  Often, the new ‘data’ are people.  And our encounters with people may make us rethink our views and values.  This is not about abandoning long-held, sound doctrine, but about finding a way to embrace a new situation, while remaining faithful to God.  That often means stepping back from a particular article of faith, a particular line of text, and looking at the bigger picture, of our faith, the gospel, God and his kingdom…

 But this particular area of life seems to be fraught with difficulty.  The first obstacle for those trying to work out a theological position based on Jesus in the gospels is that there is no obstacle.  There is no anything.  Homosexuality and gender identity are not mentioned in the gospels.

 In part, this is because homosexuality hadn’t been ‘invented’ yet.  By this, I mean that the term was not coined until the nineteenth century, when it was popularised by psychiatrist Richard von Krafft-Ebing in his important 1886 work, Psychopathia Sexualis.

 Until this point, it is fair to say that homosexuality was largely seen in terms of deviant (and criminal) behaviour.  But serious study and science had now entered the fray, and started to level the playing field.  It came to be understood, albeit slowly, that attraction to someone of the same sex may be a biological phenomenon, and not just misbehaviour or bad morals.  Of course, I expect that there is no final word on this matter, but some will argue for greater or lesser involvement of social and cultural factors here too, the old nature/nurture debate.  In any case, the real breakthrough at this point was that homosexuality was now a thing.  There was, and is, still a long way to go in understanding sexuality, especially non-heterosexuality, but I think this was a major turning point.

 Anyway, in Jesus’ day, clearly this level of understanding did not exist.  And so, it seems that homosexuality was understood in terms of behaviour, not as a way of being human.  The notion of two people of the same sex forming a true, faithful, loving partnership, or a marriage, was too much to take, even in our own UK until recently.

 So, understandably, then, we have no record of Jesus saying anything about homosexuality.  Some will point to other biblical texts which may have some bearing on same-sex relations, it seems.  The immediate difficulties here come with context, and theology.  First of all, the Leviticus texts on the subject of male-male sex do not actually read like proscriptions of consensual sex between two adults.  They read more like proscriptions of male rape (such as conquerors might commit against the vanquished), or the use of male prostitutes (such as might have been common in the worship of gods in the Ancient Near East).  We can, of course, take these texts at face value – although, famously, we rarely do that with the rest of Leviticus…

 The New Testament may also have a couple of references to same-sex relations, but opinion on their meaning is split.

 What we do find in the gospels is what Jesus says about sex, sexuality and marriage.

 Lust, says Jesus, is just as bad as the act of adultery.  I think much of what Jesus says in that part of the sermon on the mount has to do with the dignity and humanity of others (for instance, anger or insults toward another is the same as murdering them).  If one lusts after another, this can dehumanise or objectify the other.  And Jesus presents a high view of humanity, made in the image of God.  So, Jesus advises it would be better to pluck out an offending eye than to continue lusting and face the consequences.  This is (I hope!) symbolic language, to the effect that we should cut this out at the source.  In any case, Jesus seems to suggest here that sexual desire should be reserved and expressed in the secure and loving confines of marriage.

 Perhaps most telling, and well-worn by many who defend the traditional view of marriage, are Jesus’ words on marriage (or divorce, depending on your outlook) in Matthew 19:3-9.  Here, Jesus indeed affirms the view of marriage as between one man and one woman.  It should be noted, of course, that this was not the unanimous witness of scripture.  Some of the heroes of the faith had polygamous relationships.  Anyway, the text in question is occasioned by some Pharisees confronting Jesus on the question of divorce. First of all, the question comes in a context where marriage belongs to the man. The man holds all the power in the society and in the marriage. The woman has no marital rights. Therefore, they ask Jesus, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for any cause?” There appears to have been a culture of divorce, men casting off their wives when they felt like a change. Thus, Jesus replies, “Have you not read that the one who made them at the beginning ‘made them male and female’…” Notice Jesus’ use of “at the beginning” – taking us straight away to the creation story of Genesis 1 – emphasised by his use of Genesis 1:27c. Why quote that snippet? To undermine the dominant assumptions of gender roles. Jesus was (shockingly) pointing out that females were created equal to males - different but equal. Jesus, then, is firstly affirming the status of women as equal to men, fully human, worthy of dignity and respect. He then continues by quoting Genesis 2:24, about the man and the woman becoming one flesh, adding that “what God has joined together, let no one separate”. Interestingly, Jesus says ‘what’ not ‘whom’, further reinforcing the marriage bond. Jesus holds up marriage as a communion that reflects the nature of God, who as Trinity is a perfect mutuality, a complete sharing and intermingling of life. This, indeed, is the ideal of marriage.

However, note that the verses Jesus quotes are pre-Fall. This is from a world where God’s ideal is reality, without the disruption to God’s order that sin brings. Sin, however, necessitated the Mosaic concession to divorce the Pharisees talk about. Hence, Jesus points out that divorce was introduced because of hard hearts, “but at the beginning it was not so”. Again, Jesus roots the argument in God’s created order. Therefore, it seems that God intended life-long loving, committed, faithful marriage between a man and a woman as His ideal. Divorce most probably breaks God’s heart, but not as much as loveless marriage, or abuse, or oppression. Thus, sometimes it is better to divorce than remain married. To extend Jesus’ logic here, could there not also be room to allow for marital union between people of the same sex, if they intend a life-long, loving, committed, faithful relationship?  Would this not be preferable to a sham marriage to someone of the opposite sex, or to a life of celibacy to which someone is not called? 

 Of course, this is extrapolating, conjecture.  But what is clear from this text is that it is not a silver bullet against homosexuality, but an affirmation of loving, respectful marriage, as opposed to male oppression and degrading of women.

 So, Jesus never taught explicitly – and probably not even implicitly – about homosexuality.  But did he meet someone in a same-sex relationship?  There is one incident in the gospels which may give some insight here.  A Roman centurion once came to Jesus to ask him to heal his sick servant.  We know that the servant is male (Matthew 8:7).  We can see that the centurion is concerned about this servant, as he seeks Jesus’ help.  What is also worth noting is that he does not call the servant a slave, which is what he was.  The Greek word used is παῖς (pais), which can mean boy or servant.  Luke’s account of this incident records the centurion’s high esteem of the servant (Luke 7:2).  It is documented that Roman officers were not permitted to marry, and some would take male lovers.  It is possible, in fact, that the Greek word pais could carry this connotation.  And Luke is no stranger to the euphemism.  His note that the servant was “valued highly” could also be a reference to the centurion’s love for the servant.  This might also explain his extremely generous disposition toward the Jews in building their synagogue (Luke 7:5).

 This is of course supposition, but there are grounds for such a reading of this passage.

 What is clear, though, is that Jesus was prepared to help.  Without even so much as a ‘Go now, and leave your life of sin…’  He used that line with others.  But no such challenge here.  In fact, quite the opposite.  He holds this centurion up as a model of faith (not because of his relationship – if there is one – but neither holding it against him).

 If this hypothesis is correct, then Jesus was not against loving, same-sex relationships.  And he praised and welcomed and encouraged the faith of this man, without judgement, without reserve, without censure.

 If Jesus could do it, why can’t we?

Chapter 9 - Women! Know your place!

Sisters are doing it for themselves

 Disney’s 2013 movie Frozen was exceptional in many ways.  Not only was it a great film, with an unforgettable soundtrack (seriously, I defy you to forget those songs), this was also one of the House of Mouse’s highest grossing movies ever (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs still holds that record, adjusted for inflation).  However, what is most remarkable about this motion picture is that the heroes of this Disney Princess movie, that mainstay of the corporation, are all women.  The heroes are heroines.  All the men in the film are in supporting roles, as either antagonists or sidekicks, of the more bumbling variety I would even suggest.  In Frozen, a film about two royal sisters, these sisters are doing it for themselves.

 This signalled a departure from the faithful and fruitful formula of the damsel in distress who embarks on a journey of self-discovery, often inadvertently, before ultimately being rescued by her Prince, often throwing true love’s kiss into the bargain.  She is helpless, powerless, passive, an object.

 But not in Frozen.  In Frozen, that spell is broken.  The women help themselves.  They make their own way.  They are valid and powerful, they contribute.

Behind every good man…

 This is what women did for Jesus.  In Luke 8:1-3, we read of Jesus and his disciples on their travels, and part of the entourage is a group of women, some of whom were women of some means, and they resourced Jesus’ mission and ministry.  They contributed.  They used their connections or wealth to support Jesus and the disciples.  In a sense, they were the breadwinners in this group.  The men had all given up their jobs, their means of income, and had to rely on the generosity of others, like these women.  Some offered money, or food.  Some offered shelter, like Martha (Luke 10:38).

 Of course, Mary Magdalene is included in this group, and she is defined here by what Jesus did for her.  However, this is different to the way women have often been defined by or in relation to men.  It is not necessary that a woman’s identity be found in ‘her man’.  In this case, Mary is defined as having been powerfully changed by Jesus.  And this is how anyone could be defined.  My identity comes from Jesus and his transforming work in my life.  Mary, then, is not who she is because of a man.  In fact, her story is one of liberation, as a woman who has been used by men, as a prostitute, but has now been set free by Jesus, and not just a man.

 And now, Mary contributes, with these other women, to Jesus’ work.  They made it possible.

Our Mother, who art in heaven…

 Jesus had a refreshing respect for women.  Not only did he admit them to his social circle, even allowing them to resource and support him; he also appreciated traditionally feminine roles and characteristics.  Jesus looked in love at the holy city of Jerusalem, longing to gather ‘her’ children as a hen gathers her chicks (Matthew 23:37).  Jesus had no qualms about owning this female image.  In fact, God did something similar in Isaiah 49:15, to compare or contrast his care for his people with a nursing mother’s for her baby.

 Maternal love is a good image of divine love, and so Jesus is not afraid to cast women as the God figure in some of his parables.  For example, in his kingdom parables of Matthew 13, Jesus says the “kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened” (13:33).  Note that the yeast (representing the kingdom) is mixed by a woman (God, to whom the kingdom belongs and who alone can bring it into the world).  It could be argued that this image would only work with a woman in that cultural context.  A further thought occurs, with the detail of three measures of flour.  The proportions in Jesus’ parable here are exactly the same as those in Genesis 18:6.  There, Abraham instructs Sarah to make cakes for the mysterious three visitors (often assumed to be God and two angels, or God as Trinity).  The occasion of the visit is for God’s message about Sarah’s impending pregnancy with Isaac, the child of the promise.  This is a key moment in salvation history.  And so, perhaps Jesus uses the image expecting his audience to think of that incident with Sarah.

 In any case, the woman is undoubtedly the main character of Jesus’ parable, whether as Sarah, or an image of God.  This is often overlooked.  The gender-transcendence of God is further supported by the parable of the lost coin in Luke 15.  The female protagonist here is unmistakably a figure for God.  The idea of God as a woman is probably controversial in the church, where the male God strengthens the male-dominated status quo.

A woman’s place

 It is a sad fact that women have been, at best, second class citizens for the majority of Christian history.  But I get the sense that this was never how it should have been.  A famous story from Luke’s Gospel is crucial in this connection.  Jesus was welcomed into the home of two sisters, Mary and Martha.  Martha, the elder sister, spends the whole time fussing, cooking, cleaning, making sure that everything is just right for their guest.  And she grows increasingly frustrated that her sister Mary is just sitting there, listening to Jesus.  Some might say that Martha is doing women’s work, that a woman’s place is in the kitchen, at home, behind the scenes, looking after the men, who get on with the real work.

 But look again at what’s really going on here.  Mary “sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying…” (Luke 10:39).  She sat at Jesus’ feet.  That’s another way of saying she was a disciple.  In Luke’s other volume, Acts, he records Paul using the same language of his own education as a student, a disciple, of the great rabbi Gamaliel.  And now, Mary learns at the feet of the great rabbi Jesus.  She is his disciple.

 Some may say that Martha was doing women’s work, thata woman’s place is in the kitchen.  But Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better part and it won’t be taken from her (10:42).  A woman’s place, says Jesus, is at his feet.

 But, although the text ends here, the story doesn’t.  A disciple was training to be a rabbi.  They were being shaped to carry on the teachings, the work, of their master.  That’s what the Twelve were doing, and what they did.  It’s what all disciples of Jesus are called to do: to follow Him, to learn from Him, and be shaped by Him, to become like Him; and, to carry on His teaching, and His work, among others.  Jesus’ call to discipleship is a call to mission and ministry.  And Jesus says women are included in this too.  A woman’s place is in any of the ministries to which they are called and for which they are gifted, in His service, by His Spirit.

Chapter 8 - Foreigners

Climate

 I grew up in a climate of casual racism – not in my home, let me stress, but in my community.  I’m always told it’s not malicious.  Casual.  Casual is an adjective used to describe something relaxed, almost fun.  It does not apply to racism.

 The local shop was defined in derogatory terms about its owner, whose ethnic origins were in Pakistan.  The Chinese takeaway had a racist abbreviation.  The whole thing came from the dominant culture of white, working class British.  So anyone who was different was defined only by that difference.  And treated as somehow less than us.  Maybe this is a hangover from the age of Empire.  That’s an excuse, of course, not a valid reason.

 Latterly, racial tensions in our islands have expanded to include people of the same colour and from the same continent.  Economic refugees, as much as political ones, these days engender similar disrespect, anger, suspicion or hatred.  And then there’s religious hatred, or ‘intolerance’ as we might prefer to call it.  Yes, that sounds more sanitised, but any refusal to accept the right to exist of another person or group’s reasonable worldview, is hatred.

 Any way we cut it – in all the politically correct jargon we like – it fails to see the other as fully human, made in the image of God.  Like us.

 This kind of thing is as old as we are.  And it’s something Jesus was familiar with.

Coming over here, stealing all our miracles

 In both Matthew’s and Mark’s accounts of Jesus, there’s an incident where Jesus encounters a foreign woman.  Jesus leaves his native Galilee and enters the region of Tyre and Sidon.  And while he’s there, a non-Jewish woman seeks him out.  Both Matthew and Mark want to stress the ‘foreignness’ of this woman.  She is a “Canaanite” (Mt 15:22), and a “Gentile” (Mk 7:26).

 Gentiles, of course, were all those outside of the Jewish race, religion and culture.  Canaanites, an old-fashioned term it seems, is a reference to those living near Israel who were not subjugated during the ‘conquest’ of the Promised Land.  The Canaanites were the natives of Canaan, the Promised Land, who were to be driven out or conquered by the people of Israel under Joshua.  It turns out that there was no conquest.  Some cities were taken, and there were skirmishes and power struggles, but in the end, it seems many Canaanite peoples remained in the land, bordering the Israelite tribes.

 So this Canaanite woman may have been seen not just as a foreigner, someone different; she was possibly viewed with some hostility, as an ancient enemy.  In any case, she was definitely not ‘one of us’, from the point of view of Jews like Jesus and the disciples.  Hence their reaction. Matthew reports the disciples’ response: they say to Jesus, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us…” (Mt 15:23).  This betrays a lot of information about this situation.  The disciples have, in their perception, a huge gap between themselves and this woman.  First, they treat her as a nuisance – perhaps with the same disdain or disregard some of us may bat away a beggar on the street.  Second, they are getting ideas above their station.  Listen to the woman’s cry: “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon” (Mt 15:22).  She is calling out to Jesus, not the disciples.

 When Jesus does reply to the woman, his response is controversial, and has led to much speculation by interpreters.  At best, Jesus is saying he came for Jews first; at worst, for Jews only.  He then likens this woman and those like her to dogs.  This forces us to ask the question, is, or was, Jesus racist?  Is he a product of his time and space, or is he challenging the racism so prevalent in his culture by creating this situation?  After all, Jesus so often and so effectively destroyed ideologies by adopting them and identifying paradoxes within these worldviews, and (more importantly) forcing their proponents to identify these paradoxes.  Some brilliant examples of Jesus turning people’s own reasoning against them come in his ‘final’ week (cf. Matthew 21:23ff; 22:15ff).

 Whatever the case, Jesus’ words point to the racism of the day.  The Jewish daily prayers included the following:

“Blessed are you, O LORD our God, King of the Universe, for not having made me a Gentile… a slave… [or] a woman…”

 It seems to me that the issue at stake here is one of possession.  Territorialism.  Jesus and God’s kingdom are all about Israel, his salvation is for the Jews.  They don’t want ‘all these foreigners coming over here, stealing all our miracles…’  It’s as though God isn’t big enough.  As though his kingdom doesn’t have enough resources to go round.  We have to keep things to ourselves.

 This is the same kind of fear that expresses itself in anti-immigrant rhetoric.  Some immigrants come to our shores fleeing utter horror, mortal danger.  And we worry that we might have to queue a bit longer at the Jobcentre?  Or wait a bit longer to be treated on our excellent, if under-resourced, health service (free at the point of need to anyone).  Treated, in all probability, by a doctor of different ethnic origins to our own.

 Some come into our communities for improved prospects, and many take their opportunity with both hands.  Very often immigrant workers undertake the work that ‘our own’ can’t or won’t do.  Either ‘we’ are not qualified to do it, or we are not prepared to do it; it is either above us, or beneath us.  Thus, the relationship, the inclusion of immigrants, is mutually beneficial.  Let us not think that others come here simply to sponge.  We can all benefit from sharing resources and expertise.  And we can learn from the attitudes of others.

 This is certainly the case in this story.  The woman’s reply to Jesus teaches everyone a lesson.  She recognises the vast generosity of God.  He gives so much that the overflow of his goodness goes out to others, not just ‘his own’.

 God has given enough and more.  If the ‘haves’ learn to live on enough, then the ‘have-nots’ can have a bit, or a bit more.  Perhaps this is why Jesus taught his disciples to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread”.  It echoes the tradition that God rained down manna in the desert for his people (Exodus 16).  They were instructed to take just enough of this bread for the household for the day.  Not more, and it was all to be consumed that day, or it would go off.  Today’s bread is enough for today.  And if we each use what we need, and not more, then there will be enough for everyone.

 This has been woven into the fabric of scripture, of God’s way of living, for a long time.  Two different traditions which have contributed to Torah, God’s instruction, Deuteronomy 24 and Leviticus 19, both make provision for “the alien”.  They are to be treated fairly, paid well and promptly.  In harvesting, some of the produce is to be left, and any that falls is not to be picked up.  It is for the poor and the foreigner.

 It seems to me that a society is to be judged on how it treats the other in its midst.  Do we welcome?  Embrace?  Share generously?  Respect?  Learn?  Or do we reject?  Exclude?  Do we hoard resources?

Where they come from

 Of course, a detail that makes all the difference here is that the foreigner in this story is not the woman.  It’s Jesus.  He is on her patch.  This story takes place in Syro-Phoenicia.  It’s her country, not his.  And this further mocks the superiority complex of the Jews in the story.  They are in no position of strength here.  As a nation, they are occupied by Rome, like many other cultures.  They are not some mighty, self-sufficient empire.  On the world stage, both Syrian Phoenicia and Israel (or Judea) had similar standing: not much.

 But it wasn’t always like that.  In the past, Phoenicia had launched numerous expeditions from the Eastern Mediterranean, settling new city-states in Iberia, Greece, Italy, and perhaps most famously, in North Africa, at Carthage.  This city-state engaged mighty Rome in three wars, ending in the utter destruction of the Phoenician settlement.  Their most famous son, Hannibal Barca, came agonisingly close to conquering the eternal city, with his legendary strategic thinking – and some elephants.

 Culturally, the Phoenicians also made significant contributions to the world.  The point to note here is simply that the Phoenicians were a people, with a history, who contributed, had made their way in the world, and were deserving of respect as a culture and a race.

 It’s worth noting, actually, that natives of Tyre, in Syro-Phoenicia, were instrumental in the construction of the Jewish Temple in the reign of King Solomon.  He hired the Tyrians for their wood, both the material and their craftsmanship.  And it was an artisan of Tyrian descent, Hiram, who took charge of the metalwork in the temple.

 Despite this indebtedness to Tyre, the main area in which the Jews perhaps justified their feelings of superiority over their neighbours was in the realm of religion.  The Jews were God’s chosen people.  Theirs was the ‘true’ religion.  This racism was directed against other groups as well.  Perhaps Israel’s worst racial hatred was reserved for the Samaritans.  And here, it is religio-ethnic difference that was key.  And this, perhaps, because they were so close. Samaritans were possibly the closest of all races to the Jews.  They were seen as ‘mongrels’, having been decanted from Samaria, capital of the old northern kingdom of Israel (as distinct from southern Judah), by the Assyrians in the eighth century BC, then re-settled there with other races.

 The Samaritans followed their own version of the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Hebrew Bible, our Old Testament).  This featured different names, different places, and different emphases, but was otherwise pretty similar to the Hebrew version.  Trouble is, both claimed authenticity.  All of this caused tension between these two peoples.

 So, in Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10), it’s interesting to note that the passers by are Jewish religious ‘professionals’, a priest and a Levite.  They have failed to understand or practise one of God’s most fundamental laws, that of neighbourliness.  Yet these men were agents of the true religion, they are the chosen from God’s chosen.  In outrageously controversial contrast, it’s a Samaritan who gets it right.  A Samaritan.  Worse than Gentiles, because of their skewed version of the Law.  Worse than enemies, because half-related.

 Is it just me, or is the Good Samaritan story about religion?  And racial and religious intolerance?  Today, perhaps, Jesus might have told the story of the Good Muslim?  After all, Christians, Jews and Muslims worship the same God, in different ways.  We all have the same Father Abraham (had many sons).  Let us never succumb to the temptation to view our own religion, or interpretations thereof, as completely true and others’ as completely false.  Maybe we can learn from each other, co-exist, and even work together?

 Again, Jesus once met ten lepers, and healed them all (Luke 17).  He sent them off to perform the prescribed ritual.  One of them came back to thank Jesus and praise God.  And that one was a Samaritan.  Again, the Samaritan is held up as an example, while the Jews in this episode seem to see the whole thing simply as a transaction, a religious rite – or right – something to which they are entitled.

Open

 Finally, in Jesus’ inaugural address in the synagogue in Luke 4, he is almost lynched when he comes to the part about vengeance, and stops.  He then goes on to speak about God’s inclusion of the foreigner.  How small-minded of that crowd, we may say.  But let’s just check our own openness to the foreigner.  How do we feel about others ‘cutting in’ on our God, his resources, his kingdom, his salvation, his love?  How do we treat those who come to live among us, learn among us, work among us, worship among us?

Chapter 7 - The Untouchables

The human touch

 In 1987 Princess Diana was photographed holding hands with an AIDS patient.  This stunned the world.  It was shocking.  How could someone do this?  In 1987, people were scared of AIDS, some believing that it could be transmitted by casual contact.  And here, not just anyone, but Princess Diana, possibly the next Queen, was holding the hand of a man with AIDS.

 She said, “HIV does not make people dangerous to know, so you can shake their hands and give them a hug.  Heaven knows they need it.”

 The world was changed that day.  Attitudes to the disease changed.  Awareness was raised.  But I suspect the biggest change happened in that man.  For the first time in a while, he might have felt accepted, loved, special.  In a culture of fear, suspicion, even hate, of people like him, with AIDS, for someone to reach out to him in compassion like this must have been life-changing.  Especially when that someone was Princess Diana.

 In the Indian Hindu caste system, there’s a group of people known as Untouchables, they’re at the bottom of the social ladder, and they have little or no chance of climbing higher.  They have generally only ever been given the jobs that are considered beneath everyone else – in the days before sanitation, it was their job to clean up people’s mess…  Mother Teresa of Calcutta saw the untouchables as human beings, when many saw them as less than animals.  As she worked among the slums, the poorest of India’s poor, she touched the untouchables, serving them as she would anyone else.

U can’t touch this

 In Jesus’ day, lepers were the untouchables.  But it stems from the Old Testament, from the Levitical laws.  In Leviticus chapters 13 and 14, there are detailed regulations, describing varieties and symptoms of leprosy, and there’s the protocol for how to deal with it.  Of course, the word leprosy in the Bible doesn’t equate to what we know as leprosy – Hansen’s disease – but it was an umbrella term for various skin conditions, like psoriasis, dermatitis, eczema… These were considered ‘defiling’ skin diseases, which made people unclean to take part in worship.  But the fear was that they might be contagious, and disqualify others from worship too.  Let’s remember, this was in the days before doctors and medicine as we know it.

 So the risk had to be managed.  They couldn’t have it spreading through the camp.  The symptomatic individual would be assessed by the priest.  If it is thought to be a defiling skin disease, they’re excluded or isolated for seven days, and then reassessed.  It seems to me, reading Leviticus, that the hope was for the individual to be reintegrated, and that’s the direction that the legislation heads in.  That wouldn’t always be possible, but I believe that the aim was not primarily to cast people out of the community, the camp, but to protect the camp, the purity and safety of the community – hopefully with as little exclusion as possible.

Out of touch

 Yet, it seems that by the time of Jesus, in an age where certain groups were obsessive about ritual purity, that exclusion became the norm for people with such skin conditions.  And it seems that they were put out of the way, and forgotten about.

 They were very much untouchable.  They were unable to lead normal lives in Jewish society.  They were unemployed and unemployable.  They were excluded from normal family life and on the margins of communities.  If you’ve seen the film Ben Hur, you’ll get a picture of leper colonies, sort of ‘ghettoes’ outside of towns or villages.  The story of the ten lepers in Luke 17 paints a similar picture: how else would Jesus be confronted by ten lepers at once as he enters a village?

 The lepers were put out of sight and out of touch.

Clean

 And then Jesus comes along.  There’s a story in Luke chapter 5, the first leper cleansing reported in the gospels.  It’s found in Matthew, Mark and Luke.  But they each draw out slightly different points, so we’re mainly concentrating on Luke’s version.

 The first thing I want to think about is that the leper says to Jesus, “If you are willing, you can make me clean…”

 I think this is really telling.  First of all, he believes that Jesus can make him clean.  Maybe he’s heard about what Jesus has been doing throughout Galilee, all the miraculous healings…  But as a leper, he’s probably out of the loop, and might not know any of that stuff.  Maybe he just sees that there’s something about Jesus.  Or maybe he thinks that Jesus is a rabbi, and perhaps a rabbi’s word is enough.  After all, the guy doesn’t ask to be healed.  He asks to be made clean.  And I wonder if there’s a difference?  In Leviticus, the priest didn’t heal, he wasn’t expected to.  He was only expected to declare the leper clean or otherwise.  In actual fact, the Greek term used here in Luke, is the same one that the Greek translators of the Old Testament used in Leviticus.  And so perhaps this leper is asking Jesus to say he’s ok.  To tell him, it’s fine, you’re not excluded anymore.  Come back… 

Touched by the hand of God

 Perhaps we’ll never know about that.  But what is really interesting is that Jesus goes far beyond what this leper might have expected.  It makes me think of Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 3, about the God who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine…

 Jesus gives him physical healing, and much, much more, as we’ll see.  So if the leper had only been looking for ritual purity, to be declared clean and able to come back to society, he gets more than that.  He’s healed.  In many ways.

What is also really interesting is that the leper says, “If you are willing…”

 Why does he say this?  It suggests to me that he assumes Jesus might not be willing to help him.  And I think this assumption is probably based on his experience, that no one else has been willing.  People just wouldn’t stop.  He’s an untouchable.

  But Jesus stops.  At this point, I’m going to mention a little detail from Mark’s version of this story: it says there that Jesus was moved with pity, or even anger.  I’ve often wondered about this anger thing.  Is Jesus angry at being pestered?  I don’t think so.  I wonder if he’s angry at the assumption that he might not be willing.  I wonder if He’s saying, “Of course I’m willing, why would you even ask?”  Maybe his anger is at a world in which someone has to ask this, a world in which someone is untouchable…

 To return to Luke’s account, the most amazing part of the story is that Jesus stretches out his hand and touches the man, and says, “I am willing.  Be clean.”  And immediately the leprosy is gone.

 This is amazing because in Luke’s gospel, this is the third detailed report of a healing or cleansing miracle.  And yet, in the previous two, Jesus didn’t touch the people who were healed.  He simply said the word, and they were made well.  Because His word is enough.  He’s the God who created the Universe by His word.  He only needs to say it and it happens.  Jesus didn’t need to touch the leper to heal him of his leprosy.  That happens when Jesus gives the word.  But the real transformation probably happened when Jesus touched him.  This is an untouchable.  And Jesus touches him.  This might be the first human touch the man has had for a long time.  For the first time in a long time, he is human.

 In a sense, it probably didn’t matter whether Jesus healed the man of his leprosy or not.  What mattered most is that he touched him.  And in doing that, he not only said to the man, you’re human, you’re part of society – he also said it to everyone else.  Because for Jesus, there are no untouchables.  While the man still had leprosy, Jesus touched him.

 Jesus sees that the leper can change his spots.  Jesus sees that this man is a person, and should be included.  In Jesus’ day that meant he needed to be healed.  But sometimes, it’s everyone else that needs to be healed – changed, challenged, to see past the spots.  Leprosy is only skin deep.  And whatever people’s leprosy might be, Jesus will touch them.  Whatever it is that society thinks makes people untouchable, for Jesus, there are no untouchables.

 There’s a word that is used a lot today: stigma.  The word actually comes from Latin, it means a brand, like the one used on cattle, to mark them.  When someone is stigmatised, they are branded, given a mark.  That’s the key point here: they are given a mark.  It’s put on them by others.  Cows don’t brand themselves.  And people are stigmatised by society, by others.

 Maybe we can think of some untouchables.  Who do we think we can’t go near?  Who do we think is at the bottom of the barrel?  Who are the most excluded from society?  Maybe we need to follow Jesus, and touch them.  In touching, embracing those that no one else will, we can share the love and message of Jesus.

Chapter 6 - To the family of Jesus all God's children may belong

In the family

 I love The Salvation Army.  I grew up in it, it was like my extended family from birth to adulthood.  But what I have found about The Salvation Army is that you very often bump into people outside of it who know someone who is or has been in it.  They say that you’re never more than six feet away from a rat.  It seems that you’re never very far away from a Salvationist, ex-Salvationist, or someone who knows one.

 What I’ve also found is that a large proportion of Salvationists marry other Salvationists.  And so we have a situation where lots of Salvationists know lots of other Salvationists.  It’s a small world in The Salvation Army, and an even smaller gene pool, I like to say.

 So, joking aside, The Salvation Army is – or at least, can be, at its best – one big happy family.  And you might be surprised at who is related to whom, and how, within the family.

 Families can surprise us, by their size, their complexity, and their members.  Have you ever found yourself amazed that two particular people are related?  Have you ever seen one of those documentaries, such as “Fifteen kids and counting”?  If we think that’s a lot, let’s think about rats again for a moment.  A rat can have up to ten or twelve babies in a litter.  And then, a few months later, maybe, they can do it all again.  The greeting cards industry would be much more lucrative in the animal kingdom, I imagine.

A day in the life…

 In Mark chapter 3, we see a day in the life of Jesus.  First of all, this might be the Sabbath, and Jesus may have just healed on the Sabbath – in the synagogue, no less… So a bit of early drama.  Then, maybe the same day, maybe not, he goes off to the lake with the disciples – that’ll be lake Galilee – and he’s followed by huge crowds from Galilee – and beyond, actually.  They come because they’ve heard about what he’s been doing, the healings and so on.  They want to press right in against him, so they can touch him and be healed, whether it’s blindness, demon-possession, or whatever ailment it may be, they all want a piece of Jesus.  These people are limping through life, for some reason or other, and they want to be whole, free, well…

 So Jesus manages to get away from the crowd for a bit, and goes up a mountainside, and he calls out the names of the twelve men he chooses and appoints as his disciples – his students – and apostles – those he will send… We’ll come back to these guys later.

 Then Jesus goes home.  And still he doesn’t get a minute, because the crowd comes together again, “so that they could not even eat…”  No time or room to even eat.  That’s busy.  And so Jesus’ family, hearing about this, go to try and stop this, because people are saying he’s nuts, or as other versions suggest, the family themselves were saying he’s nuts…

 And then we come to the scribes.  These guys are often seen as like pantomime villains in the gospels.  That might be a bit unfair, because they think they’re doing the right thing.  They’re called scribes because they made copies of the scriptures, they wrote them out.  They loved the Hebrew bible, they learned it, they wrote it, they wanted to make sure that others could learn it and live by it like they did.  They’re kind of like police, because, like the Pharisees, they want to make sure that people obey the Law.  But they’re not like the police, in that they didn’t have any real power.

 So they crash this party, to check what’s going on.  And when they see Jesus casting out demons, they conclude that he’s doing this by a demon.  And Jesus pulls them up on this.

 In an earlier chapter, we thought about assumptions.  Well, here the scribes are making assumptions.  They are so arrogant, so presumptuous, that they think the Holy Spirit must be an unclean spirit, because He’s not doing what they expect.  ‘How can this be a God thing?’ they say, ‘because God didn’t tell us He was going to do this…’  And Jesus lets them know that they’re not as close to God as they might think…

All God’s children

 And this is brilliantly juxtaposed with the little bit about the family.  When Jesus’ mother and brothers try to get in the house to see Jesus, someone passes the message to Jesus: “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you”.  And Jesus says, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And he looks at the people around him, and says, “Here are my mother and my brothers!  Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother…”

 Who are they?  Well, who’s in the crowd?  First of all, this is the same crowd, or a similar one, as the one from earlier: the sick, the poor, the broken, the excluded, among others.

 So Jesus looks at this crowd and says these guys are my mother and brothers and sisters…

 I used to think this was really harsh on Jesus’ mother and siblings.  How can he say that these people, and not his own relatives, are his family?  But that’s just it – he doesn’t.  At no point here does Jesus actually disown his family.  He doesn’t say, “They’re not my family, these are!”  He just says, “These are my family…”  Although Jesus maybe does have cause to fall out with his family, if they did call him nuts – he doesn’t.  He’s not having a cheap shot to get back at them.

 I think what he’s doing is telling a kind of parable.  He’s using an illustration.  Someone has said to him, Jesus, you’re family are outside.  And Jesus says, wait: my family is here.  You’re all my family.  They are too, but for me, family goes far beyond flesh and blood, or law.  He’s not excluding anyone, but he’s including everyone… As John Gowans has put it in one of my favourite songs, “To the family of Jesus, all God’s children may belong”…

 Jesus looks at that crowd, and he says, ‘You’re all God’s children.  That makes us family…’ That’s an interesting idea.  That the poor and sick and broken, the lost, already are God’s children.  So maybe it’s not just when people decide to follow Jesus that they become God’s children…

Will

 But some will point out, rightly, that Jesus adds the qualification: “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother…”  They may also note that Matthew’s account of this story has Jesus referring specifically to his disciples, not just the crowds…  To be part of Jesus’ family means doing the will of God.

 So what’s that?  What does that look like?  For the scribes, this meant following the hundreds of rules laid out in the Law.  And we could tie ourselves in knots trying to work out God’s will.  But maybe this will help:  Micah 6 verse 8 says, “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

 In a nutshell, you could say that’s God’s will.  That’s what he wants from people.  Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with God.  Briefly, let’s explore that.  Justice, that’s about doing the right thing, being fair, honest and so on, in all our dealings.  To love kindness means to love being kind, to commit to being kind and generous to people in the same way we commit to anything or anyone we love.  And to walk humbly with God… that’s the thing.  That’s what it’s really about.

 To walk humbly with God means, first of all, we walk with God: we follow Him, we live with Him and for Him.  But to do this humbly means we recognise who he is and who we are.  We recognise that He is God, the Creator, Preserver and Governor of all things.  And we’re not.  We’re sinful, we don’t have a leg to stand on before Him – but He invites us to come anyway.  Come as we are.

 Jesus said in Matthew 11:28, “Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens…”  Come as you are.  Whoever you are, don’t worry about it.  Come, and walk humbly with your God.

 There’s some surprises in Jesus’ family, all right.  In fact, Jesus tells some scribes and religious types, in Matthew 21, that “the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you…”  Harsh, but true.  Because these people who are messed up know that they’re messed up, and they come humbly to God, as they are.

 To go back to those disciples, the 12, they’re actually a bit surprising themselves.  If we think of the in-groups and out-groups, as the scribes might see it, the 12 includes some classic ‘outies’.  There’s a tax collector (Matthew).  There’s at least 4 ‘uneducated’ fishermen (they’re called uneducated in Acts 4:13).  There’s even a potential terrorist (Simon the Zealot).  At the end of the day, it’s not about what we are.  It’s about whose we are, and who He is.

 So the invitation to us all is: Come.  And walk humbly with your God, alongside all these other surprising people…  Look at your brothers and sisters in the family of Jesus.