COMING TO OUR SENSES

 COMING TO OUR SENSES

Few things are more moving than to see a family not giving up on an errant son

or daughter. The parents have brought up their child but when he or she

becomes a teenager, the parents have to stand back and leave them to make their

own decisions. Often, in the absence of strong family tradition, the young

person loses their sense of direction and lands up in desperate trouble. The

parents are shocked and distressed but there is little they can do if the young

person refuses help.

The point of Jesus’ story about the errant son, the prodigal son, is that the

parents do not give up. They wait. Anxiously, hopefully and prayerfully, they

wait for the moment when their child ‘comes to his (her) senses’, sees that the

mess they are in is self-inflicted and that the way out can also be self-activated.

The young man in the story has abandoned his family, his country and his

religion (he ends up working with ‘unclean’ pigs), but the father has not

abandoned him. He waits for him, his eyes glued to the horizon, watching for

his return.

The common assumption might be that the father scolds him, demands an

explanation and maybe disinherits him. But this father embraces him, says not a

word of condemnation and invests him with a robe, a ring and sandals –

symbols that he is now in an even high state in the family than he was before.

Luke is telling us Israel has torn up the contract made in the desert, wasted its

inheritance and abandoned its destiny. In the accounts of Jesus’ trial before the

Sanhedrin this is precisely what the high priest does. But God has not

abandoned Israel. He waits. When Ukraine jumps out at us every time we

consult the media, we feel the anguish of the people – particularly the children

and the mothers who try to care for them in the absence of their menfolk,

fighting on the front line. (The media chooses to bring Ukraine to our attention

but we constantly need to remember that there is a bitter war also continuing in

Ethiopia.)

We pray. But, in a sense, even God has to wait. He cannot intervene if his

‘teenagers’ fight. He has given them freedom and wants them to use that

freedom to find a way out of the mess. In some mysterious way we cannot

understand, he does help them to open their eyes and see a way forward. But

this help is dependent on a real desire on the part of those involved to be helped.

Finally, we hear that the story ends with a celebration, a win-win event of great

joy. It is not a reward, not a victory parade. It is a moment when everyone

rejoices as they recognise the father does not judge but welcomes his son who in

his turn has learnt so much that you feel he is now twice the man he was before.

27 March 2022 Lent Sunday 4C Josh 5:9-12 2 Cor 5:17-21 Lk 15:11-32

THE PROPHECY OF PRESENCE

 

THE PROPHECY OF PRESENCE

Each day I read the news and view the pictures coming out of Ukraine in the hope of some glimmer of movement towards a resolution of the conflict. And each day the situation just gets worse. There was a time when Europe was a theatre of constant war but we thought that ended with the 20^th century. Yet here we are again, in a war that has no reasonable purpose and which brings untold suffering to millions. Cardinal Michael Czerny has been sent with a colleague to visit Ukraine and express Pope Francis’ sorrow and closeness to the people.

Czerny says, ‘I go above all to meet people, to be with them: this is the prophecy of a presence and a closeness that may appear weak, even insignificant according to the logic of the world and the force of arms. But this is not the case: being close to his people, to his children who suffer, is the way that God has chosen to enter into the history of the world. Even at the cost of ending up on the cross. A symbol of this way of God is the great wooden crucifix that, in recent days, was moved from the Armenian Cathedral of Lviv and taken to a bunker in the hope of saving it from the fury and madness of war. In bunkers, cellars and improvised shelters there are many people who address their prayers to that crucified Lord.’ 

This is an agony for the Ukrainian people. And since it is up there, the first item on the news, every day we are constantly reminded of it. And we are utterly puzzled and saddened by the madness of it. Militarily the Russians are advancing but there is no way they will win the hearts and minds of the Ukrainian people. So why do they even try? They cannot win this thing in the long run. No one ever accepts the loss of their freedom – even if they are forced to for a while.

The cardinal reminds us, ‘being close to his people … is the way God has chosen.’ A mother by the bed of her dying child can do nothing but be close to them. She shares in the suffering and our belief is that sharing and suffering is not in vain. Mary stood by the cross, weeping. But the time came when everything would become clear and her tears would be turned into joy. That time is still far off, it seems, for the people of Ukraine, of Tigray or anywhere else where people are suffering so much.

But we can ‘be present’ to them in the only way we can.

March 13, 2022      

MECHANICS AND GARDENERS

 

MECHANICS AND GARDENERS

Life goes on. We know the Russians have invaded Ukraine but what can I do about it? I can pray and that is good. But it is usually all I can do in such moments. Yet it helps to think about it. Our screens show burning buildings – not from some accidental fire but by the deliberate intention of people who do not seem to care about human life, about the suffering of children, about mothers becoming widows, about people starving and unable to keep warm in that harsh climate.

How is it possible, after all we have gone through in wars over the earth, that we still don’t put an end to war and solve our problems by listening and talking round a table? If we do listen, we learn that the Russians do have some reasons for their actions. They do feel threatened by the western alliance that has now extended to their borders.

After the Second Word War which ended in 1945, the Russians seemed intent on expanding westwards and the Americans and Europeans dreaded another war where they would have to fight, not Germany, but Russia. An American diplomat in Moscow, called George Kennan, understood the Russians and that they had always felt threatened and wanted to expand their influence in order to feel secure. Kennan wrote a famous ‘long telegram’ to his superiors in Washington proposing the Americans display their power but hold back from any threat of action.

Later he explained,  

‘We must be gardeners and not mechanics in our approach to world affairs. We must realize that we did not create the forces by which this process operates. We must learn to take these forces for what they are and to induce them to work with us with understanding and sympathy, not trying to force growth by mechanical means, not tearing the plants up by the roots when they fail to behave as we wish them to. We do not need to insist that change in the camp of our adversaries can come only by violence.’

These have always struck me as wise words. To be a mechanic is to impose your will on a machine and make it do what you want. To be a gardener is to recognise the built-in nature of the plants and work with them in the hope of producing the results you hope for.

The Russians do have a problem. But we can lament that they did not ‘work with’ the people they considered threatened them. It is not my wish to start an argument over the rights and wrongs of this crisis. It is too sad for words. As we enter this precious period of Lent, we can lament this tragedy and try in our own way to be gardeners in all the relationships in which we are engaged.     (6 March 2022)