CAN WE ABOLISH MANGERS?

 

CAN WE ABOLISH MANGERS?

It was in a manger he was laid, a place of dried grass for cows to feed in harsh climates. From the moment he appeared in our flesh, ‘he had nowhere to lay his head.’ He was one of the countless children born in strange places, railway stations, back streets and migrant camps. It was all a long time ago and the world has moved on. We now have modern hospitals, air travel and instant communications. Our progress has been rapid and all embracing.

 

Yet we still have mangers. For all our progress, we still have the heavy burden of poverty. We have never bridged that divide. In some ways it is worse today than ever because today it is structural, built into the way power and wealth operate. Joe Biden may preside over the wealthiest country in the world and he may want to solve the issue of migration but he seems powerless to do so. Developed countries say they cannot open their doors to migrants as they did a century or more ago.  They would be overwhelmed by the problems created.

 

Nor, it seems, are they able to come up with a policy to eradicate poverty in the countries from which the migrants come. (No migrant willingly leaves their country. They do it because of war, civil unrest or the relentless poverty arising from an economic vacuum).

 

The first response is good, even heroic; relieve the immediate suffering of the migrants by at least rescuing them from the sea and giving them a place to stay and food to eat. That is charity and there will always be a need for it. But it does not solve the problem More is needed and this we call justice. And when we are faced with systematic structural injustice what do we do? The issue is now linked to the big Cs: Covid and Climate.

 

Just as the big Cs do not just affect some parts of the world but not others, so the migrant question is rapidly becoming unavoidable and will simply have to tackled. It speaks in a loud voice about our postponement of the Beatitudes. They were nice words Jesus spoke on the hill by the lake all those years ago. They were all about opening our hearts to others and not counting the cost to ourselves. The fact that they were spoken on a mountain, echoing Moses’s words when God first announced his covenant, and that they were a highly developed version of the Ten Commandments, can easily pass us by.  

 

Each year, at Christmas, we return to the question: are we creating a world that reflects the values of the Kingdom of God or are we waiting for God to do it somehow from on high? He has handed the world over to us. He cannot interfere with our freedom.  It is up to us. He was born in a manger to help us get rid of mangers. As with Covid, as with Climate, we ask; what can I do? There is no simple answer. But when we look, we will be shown the way.

 

25 December 2021   Christmas Day          Is 9:2-7           Tit 2: 11-14    Lk 2:1-14

 

      

 

BELIEVING THE PROMISE

 

BELIEVING THE PROMISE

‘Our hearts are restless’, says Augustine. We yearn for something beyond our reach. Yesterday, I spent time with a young family. The two older children, 8 and 10, were already ‘serious’ about ‘doing the right thing’ at home (helping Mum) and at school (speaking English – no Shona allowed!) The youngest, aged 4, had no such agenda; she just loved exploring everything. She had not yet developed that ache we have for what we want, what is expected.

Israel had that ache. She had been told many times; ‘come to the waters you who are thirsty … I shall make an everlasting covenant with you’ (Isaiah 55:1-3). God has always wanted to fill us with his good things. Long ago, he planted a yearning in our hearts. Israel carried that yearning, that restlessness. Her whole history is one of striving and failing, moving forward and falling back again. In Advent we remember that movement and we feel it in our own time.

We too are restless, longing for something beyond us. We have the words of those who were close to God to encourage us. Take Micah, whom we read today. ‘Out of you, Bethlehem, will be born the one who is to rule over Israel … His origins go back to the distant past. … When the time comes for her who is to give birth, gives birth … a remnant will come back … and he will be their peace.’ Micah’s contemporaries would not have known what he was talking about.

They could not have grasped that God was promising to come and live among them in a human body of flesh and blood (our second reading today, from Hebrews). It was beyond their belief. They could not have grasped it and many people today can’t either. We scarcely can ourselves.

But there was one person who could, even then. Luke tells us today, Mary hurried to ‘the hill country of Judah’ bursting with the news. She had to tell someone, someone she felt would at least begin to understand. She chose her cousin. We are let into their conversation which ends with Elizabeth saying, ‘Blessed is she who believed the promise …’ It all comes down to that. The yearning, the restlessness, the longing – they will all be fulfilled. The most wonderful part of what it is to be human is now going to be realised. God is going to come and live in us and we in him. If we can welcome him – even if our heart is more like a stable than a hotel – he will come and make his home in us (John 14:23).    

19 December 2021       Advent Sunday 4C                   Mic 4:1-4         Heb 10:5-10     Lk 1:39-45                  

 

 

FRANCIS ON LESBOS - FEAR AND JOY

 

FRANCIS ON LESBOS - FEAR AND JOY

An open-eyed smile and look of wonder on the face of a Syrian child greeted Pope Francis on Lesbos last week. The Mediterranean island receives many migrants fleeing their countries because of war and poverty. That smile cut through all the fear and calculation with which many in Europe greet refugees. We can imagine the frustration and anger behind closed doors in Europe’s capitals towards a pope who speaks inspiring words but does not have the political obstacles the continent’s leaders would have to face if they opened their doors.

But is this not the nub where safety and risk meet?  The sensible, prudent and practical thing to do is to close the door, build fences and walls and patrol the roads and seas. ‘We cannot handle all these people.’ But in our hearts, we know this is not a solution. It is like apartheid in the old South Africa or the karabha (colour bar) in the old Rhodesia. We are ‘safe’ behind our walls. But for how long? And at what cost?  Those who built walls then were not safe and those who build them now are not either.

Yet the risk of opening doors fills us with anxiety.  Strangers in our midst, who do not know our language and hold to foreign customs and faiths, unsettle us. Some of them might even have hostile intentions, coming to plant bombs and kill people.

So Francis makes us feel uncomfortable because he is really saying, ‘You of little faith, why do you doubt?’ He is asking us to step out of the boat and do the ‘impossible’. And is it not because we cannot take these steps that our freedom is so much postponed? The kingdom, or reign, of God is ‘kicked down the alley’. We don’t want to deal with the toughest questions. There is a ‘big gulf’ (Luke 16:26) between what we call security and the world of the Beatitudes. And the hardest thing is that we actually have the power to solve this issue of migration, but we do not have the will.

In the third week of Advent our theme turns to joy. ‘Shout for joy’ (Zephaniah), ‘I want you to be happy, always happy’ (Paul). And John the Baptist, ‘if you have two tunics, share with one who has none’. There is joy in sharing. If we can get over our fear of reaching out to others, we will discover great joy.

12 December 2012    Advent Sunday 3C    Zeph 3:14-18   Ph 4: 4-7   Lk 3:10-18

ANDREW AND SARAH

 

ANDREW AND SARAH

The ‘news’ at this time of the year, if we can let it enter into us, is astonishing. ‘Every valley will be filled in, every mountain and hill laid low.’ As usual, it is hidden parable language – saying something simple, even silly, but unlocking a world view that is life changing.

I came across the story of Andrew and Sarah this week. Andrew is an English prince, born into privilege, money and fame before he has actually done anything. He doesn’t have to work. He can just enjoy himself. He doesn’t have to ask, ‘What do I really want to do with my life?’ He can put that off. True, he served in the navy for a while but not as a total commitment for life. He doesn’t have to make that kind of choice. He can make the most of his position and opportunities. His future is secure. Eventually he settles on one person whom he asks to be his wife. Sarah comes from a family close to the royals but it is a broken family and gives her few guidelines for life and certainly not life in the public eye as wife of a prince.

All goes well for a while but gradually the lack of something solid in their lives leaves them both chasing the frills of life rather than its substance. As the story unfolds, they both go their separate ways, seeking satisfaction in shadows and illusions. Their marriage fails and they divorce and the Queen, Andrew’s mother, calls the year it happened ‘horrible’. The public turn against the couple who, in their different ways, go deeper and deeper into the dark valley of disaster.

But the story ends on a bright note. They have both kept up contact with one another and their children, and have both tasted the bitterness of knowing they have brought all their troubles on themselves. Having reached this low point, like the story of the prodigal son, their eyes are opening and the suggestion of the storyteller is that they are ready to come together again, to ‘remarry’, to make a new start, this time much wiser people, people who have tasted the worst and are now humbly ready for the best. The mountains have been lowered and the valleys filled.

The royal family in England perform a great service. They are up there, like a mirror in a washroom, where we can see ourselves and adjust our ways without anyone noticing. Like the actors in a Shakespearean tragedy, their lives are open for us to inspect and maybe draw some conclusions for our own lives. What Advent tells us is, if we search, we are certain to find. But our choices have to be authentic, that is, we find ourselves in serving others. If we only think of ourselves, we are lost.

December 5, 2021               Advent Sunday 2C              Bar 5:1-9               Phil 1:3…11                         Lk 3:1-6