Friday, 24 September 2021

Esther

 Reading: the book of Esther

A quick outline of the book of Esther.

The story of Easter is one that you may not be familiar with. The people of Israel were in exile. About 587 years before Christ, Jerusalem was destroyed and in the 10 years following that the Jewish elite were deported to Babylon, around the same time many Jewish people left the land and move to a variety of places. About 539 BC Cyrus the Persian king conquered Babylon, some of the Jews went back home, but some did not.

The book of Esther begins with King Ahasuerus throwing a banquet, 6 months into the banquet, [yes, a banquet that went for at least 6 months!] he calls his wife to come and show the people at the banquet how beautiful she is, but Vashti refuses. Vashti is no longer allowed to be in the presence of the King, and a decree goes out that all the beautiful young virgins to come to the King's harem, and one would be chosen to be the new Queen.

Esther was chosen to be the new Queen.

Esther's uncle Mordecai overheard a plot to kill the King, he told Esther who warned the King, and his life was saved.

The King's main adviser is a man named Haman, he does not like the Jews. Haman tells the King that there are certain people who do not keep the King's Laws and the King should proclaim a decree for them all to be destroyed. The King accepts Haman’s word, and the decree is sent throughout the land. Then Esther steps in and speaks to the King, the decree cannot be reversed, but another decree goes out that the Jewish people can defend themselves.

There are some oddities in the book of Esther, in its 10 chapters there is no mention of God, the temple, the exodus, or the salvation history of the Jewish people. Esther doesn’t see God or hear from God. Yet Esther is a role model of bravery. She is not perfect. She would have broken all sorts of Torah rules in living in the Palace. Yet, when push came to shove, she chose to risk her life, for the life of her people.

The book of Esther could easily be a soap opera or melodramatic movie. We have a fickle King, a villain, plot twists, an unlikely heroine, war and death, triumph and tragedy. A Hollywood directors dream. Yet this book is in the Bible. I wonder why it was chosen to be included. What does this story of gluttony, promiscuity, and violence have to say to us today.

Esther is part of a religious and ethnic minority. Her ancestors most likely moved to Persia following the fall of Jerusalem; about 100 years later Ahasuerus was King. Even though Jewish people have been living in Persia for 100 years, their life is still perilous, as we see from the actions of Haman, who, by the way, is of Canaanite heritage.   

How do we see people who have a different religious or ethnic background to ourselves? Do we treat them as worth less, more expendable, not as deserving of education, health, work, and housing? Do we trust people from a different background less than people who look like us and speak like us and have similar values? What do you know about the experience of migrants and refugees?

The King is portrayed as incompetent and power drunk. The opening scene has the king giving a banquet for officials and nobles and governors and generals. After 180 days, the king gives a week-long banquet for everyone in Susa in the palace garden. While this happening the queen, Vashti, was giving a banquet for the women. As the story continues there is much feasting and drinking. The King makes rash decisions, and relies for advice from others, who have their own agenda.

I wonder what we look for in our leaders, elected and unelected. I hear people speak about the Royal Family in terms of stability, decency, dedication, and a selfless devotion to the greater good. We do not see this in King Ahasuerus.

Esther, as many people from minority groups do, blends in as much as she can. She joined the other young women in becoming part of the harem. Esther was aware of what was happening and spoke up against injustice. Not the injustice of young women being sexual playthings for the king; but the injustice that could have seen many people killed. In speaking on behalf of her people, Esther took a risk, she risked her life; she could have continued to hide that she was Jewish. The King had not noticed. But she spoke up.

When do we speak up and speak out? Is it for ourselves or for others?  

Nothing in the story of Esther suggests that God spoke to her or gave her a sign, there is no burning bush or voice from heaven.

So often God's action in our life, God's activity in the world around us, is hidden from us; not because God is trying to hide, but because God acts in what looks like our ordinary life.

Most of us will never entertain an Angel, like Mary and Joseph did.
Most of us will not be able to tap a rock and have freshwater flow from it, like Moses.
Most of us will not touch the holes in the hands of Jesus as Thomas did.

We may wish for the certainty of the burning bush, or walking through the Red Sea, but reality is, most of us will not have those experiences.

We can learn from Esther.
We can learn what it is like to be everyday believers.
To be the good news,
To be hope and light
to be ready, to speak, to act.

Our lives, like Esther’s will not be perfect. We will break God’s heart at times, but God still trusts us and calls us to act for humanity.

  

Poem

 

Esther – a woman of action;

   a role-model for the ordinary

   to be extra-ordinary;

   a role-model who took direct action.

   The rabbis have considered her a prophet,

   who neither spoke a word with God

   nor from God,

   but who risked her life

   to save her people.

 

Jeremiah

   Amos

   Jesus

   Caroline Chisholm

   William Wilberforce

   Oscar Romero

   Mother Theresa…

spoke out

   against the wrongs in their societies;

   took action

   to redress those wrongs;

   to offer the world a glimpse

   of the realm of God:

   a community

   of mutual relationship;

   a community in which

   trust, obligation, morality, common good, tradition, goodwill,

   co-operation, religious values, neighbourliness

   and more

   are valued as basic to the good health,

   the wholeness,

   of that community.

 

This alternative vision

   is the realm we are called to live:

   to stand with those whose lives are hurt by the prevailing systems,

   to identify

   not with the powerful

   but the vulnerable.

 This is our risky journey

 of discipleship.

 

© Jeff Shrowder, 2012. (Adapted from a sermon from some years ago, which may have drawn on material from other, long-forgotten, sources.)        

Friday, 17 September 2021

Greatness, Serving, Silence, Fear

Mark 9: 30-37 [we are not able to meet in person due to COVID] 

There are a few things that stand out in this passage for me this week; the first is the disciples were silent because of fear, the discussion about greatness, and the idea of turning things upside down.

Sometimes people are called the greatest cricketer, comedian, politician, whatever…  of all time.

How do we decide who is the greatest?

And I wonder what would make one the greatest disciple?

This conversation happens just after Jesus tells the disciples again that he will be handed over to people who will kill him, and three days later he will rise. Now I get that this would be confusing or weird for the disciples to hear, even the second time around.

But, looking at the life of Jesus, and hearing that we will die and rise again, arguing over who is the greatest, seems ridiculous.

 Twice in this passage the disciples stay quiet. Firstly, when Jesus reminds them of his coming death, they do not understand, but they keep quiet because they are afraid.

I wonder what they are afraid about.
Is it that they would have to accept that what Jesus said will come true. That their idea of a Messiah who will overthrow the Roman oppressors is not wrong.   

Maybe they don’t want to appear foolish.

There are times I haven’t asked questions because I thought everyone else understood except me, and I would look silly. This happened a lot in class at college. When I did ask, people would thank me at lunchtime, they also did not understand or want to appear foolish, but they were pleased when I asked.

I wonder if the disciples were all waiting for someone else to ask Jesus to explain what he meant.

 The second time the disciples stay quiet is when Jesus asks them what they were talking about as they walked to Capernaum. I wonder if this time they stayed quiet because they knew that arguing about greatness does not fit in with the way of Jesus. Like when you ask a child what they have in their mouth, and they know it is something they should not have.  All innocent looks and no words.

What do you not ask?

When do you stay silent?

 

Jesus then makes 2 statements in this part of the passage about greatness, the first is that greatness is about serving, but not only serving people we like, or people who are like us. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”

Then Jesus goes on to give an example of what that serving might look like. “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”  

Now this is no cute, sweet, innocent picture. In Jesus’ time, children were at the bottom of the human pecking order.  They rated lower than women, and just above the cattle. The child is an illustration of the type of people to welcome, the vulnerable, the lowly, the powerless, the one without income or property or rank, welcome the outcast, the one who has no means to repay.

The kind of greatness which God values in human beings is not having power and wealth but having compassion.

This reminds me how strange the kingdom of God is in modern times, well, it was strange in the first century as well.

As a church, as a group of disciples, we follow the One who came and ate with sinners, loved all people, forgave sinners, and reminded people who judged that they would be judged. We follow the One who came and made people whole, saw the dignity in every human, refused to treat women or children or servants as second- or third-class citizens. The One who said the first will be last and the last will be first; and the greatest is the servant of all.

This kingdom of God was, and is, coming into being,

·       where love flourishes

·       where fear does not stop us from speaking

·       where all people are included

·       where all people are valued

This is an upside-down kingdom, where children and slaves and women are not property but people. Where love and compassion are more important than wealth or status. Where love and compassion replace fear and apathy.   

Jesus is teaching the disciples, and us, about a different way of living.

In a world, then and now, where armies and money and prestige were seen as signs of greatness, Jesus talked of serving.

In a world where having more was a sign of being blessed, Jesus spoke of sharing and trusting God for each day.

In a world where people were divided by race and gender and work, Jesus says everyone counts, all are equally loved and cherished by God. All are included.

Our nation, and the world, is divided today in so many ways. Access to clean water and food. Access to health care and education. Access to safe and secure housing. And now we see divisions over who has access to COVID vaccines.

You may have heard people say, “we are all in this together”. Well yes, and no. We are all in the same storm, but some have a surfboard, some have a dinghy, and some have a supertanker. We are in the same storm, but our experience is different.

How we live shows God’s love and grace.
When we share resources shows God’s generosity.
When we listen to another’s pain or anxiety,
when we include the outcast,
when we welcome the addict, the abused, the prisoner,
we see a glimpse of the Kingdom of God. 

Thursday, 9 September 2021

Remembering who we are

Mark 8:27-38

 What do people say about me?

Who do you say that I am?

When I was finishing at Theological College, I started having conversations with congregations looking for a Minister. First conversation with a congregation, and we all say a little about who we are, then I was asked who is Jesus Christ to you?

My first thought was Wow! Things got really serious really fast.

I started saying something about Jesus being God incarnate, come to live the human experience. I stopped to think and breath, and they said, that’s fine and went on to the next question. Remember for the past 3 years everything I had written was at east 1,000 words, and my largest essay was 12,000 words.  Turned out they didn’t want a theological essay but wanted to know that I thought Jesus and God had something to do with each other.

Who do you say that Jesus is?

Peter responds to Jesus’ question by saying “You are the Messiah!”

And when Jesus starts talking about crucifixion and suffering and rejection, Peter goes No Way!

Peter knew how the story was supposed to end. The Messiah would come and take control back for the people of Israel, not be arrested and killed.

“This was not the Messiah they were picturing. During this time when Hebrews, and other nations were under the heel of an oppressive empire they pictured a heroic Messiah, a conquering Messiah, a militaristic Messiah, no doubt armed to the teeth weaponized and ready to fight and show the might of the nation.
Instead, they get Jesus, humble, tradesman, child of nowhere special.
Instead they get Jesus who continues to balk at the tradition, and questions authority, but does not quite call for an out and out rebellion.
Instead they get Jesus, who fully admits that he is going to suffer, Jesus who says that the first will come last, Jesus who has come to serve, Jesus, the kind of Messiah that no one pictured.”[1]

Do we come with a picture of Jesus that does not allow for suffering, rejection, and crucifixion. Do we think the suffering does not matter because of the resurrection?

Jesus goes on to tell the disciples not only will he be crucified, but each of them will have to bear the burden of being a disciple.

I wonder what it means today to take up your cross and follow Jesus. I have had people tell me it is living with pain or grief or a whole range of things that come our way as people. Carrying our cross is much more than living with limitations of being human.

I think of people who live differently because of their faith. People who live out loving their neighbour as they love themselves. People who follow the call of Jesus to love those who hate you. People who stand and speak out against oppression, when they are not the ones being oppressed. People who move to where they are most needed, even if it means working in isolated or disadvantaged communities.

Something I saw this week:

“Integrity is choosing courage over comfort; choosing what is right over what is fun, fast, or easy; and choosing to practice our values rather than simply professing them.” [2]

Carrying our cross is living as followers of Jesus, loving, forgiving, gracious and hopeful.

That is not always easy. As we look at continuing restrictions, it can be easy to focus on what we cannot do. We cannot have dinner with friends, we cannot gather in person to worship, we cannot travel for holidays, we cannot hug our grandchildren. There are lots of things we cannot do.

We can be people of hope and love.

Here is part of an article by our Moderator, Rev Simon Hansford[3]:

“In the face of this turbulence [COVID, Afghanistan and other world events], it is easy to forget who we are. Our response is that we become self-absorbed, worrying solely about our health, our safety, and that of our immediate family.

An essential part of our discipleship is remembering. On each occasion when we celebrate the bread and wine of the eucharist, we are commanded, remember me. The central act of our shared life calls us to remember the crucified and risen Christ. 

Remembering calls us back to ourselves, to who we are called, by Christ, to be. The awe-inspiring news that we are crafted in the image of God; the reminder that at our best, at our most average and at our worst, we are still loved by God. The astonishing promise that God’s mercy and hope address each frailty and failure, and articulate each time we bless others in our turn.

This is why community is so valuable. On the occasions when it is difficult to recall our hope, our faith, there are others who break the bread and share it with us, inviting us to rediscover our value and our call. We are re-membered, regathered by the community as we tell the stories of how Christ has acted, and is acting now.

We have congregations across the Synod who are helping people in their communities to discover hope in Christ, or to remember it. People are being offered food parcels, or phone calls, hampers are being carried to isolated communities and congregations are partnering with vaccination hubs to support everyone who calls through.

Our Ministers are being vaccinated to encourage our church community and posting it on social media – #loveneighbour – and our parish missions across the Synod are engaging in vaccination and meals and community support for isolated people of all ages.

Our university chaplains are providing pastoral support to overseas students, offering financial support to many in need. I am pleased that the Moderator’s Fund is being used in several places in our Synod, in a disaster where there are no fires, floods or drought, but plenty of people struggling.

Remembering, under the urging of the Holy Spirit is about our decision, about our faithful following of Christ. In seasons like this one, the Spirit reminds us of the One who has died and been raised, which is the reason we serve – and proclaim – in the world around us.

We are in this challenging time, this pandemic, with the living God. We will serve, and proclaim, offer forgiveness and mercy, and live out justice. We will remember the one who calls us, who is always faithful.”

Who do say Jesus is?

How do you live that out?

 



[2] Brené Brown, in Rising Strong: How the Ability to Reset Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead