To all my Irish readers. (probably all one of you!)

And happy birthday sweet sixteen to A.

As the announcement is made that Rowan Williams is leaving his archbishopric for a return to academia, many are quick to pass judgement on his term of office and, worse in my view, on him as a person.  This little story, which has been around a few years now, once more landed in my in-box yesterday, and reminds me just why I admire this man (with the voice of golden syrup) so much...

A child had asked her father the ultimate question - who invented God.  It seems a letter was sent to various religious bigwigs, and the archbish replied thus:  

Dear Lulu,

Your dad has sent on your letter and asked if I have any answers. It’s a difficult one! But I think God might reply a bit like this –

‘Dear Lulu – Nobody invented me – but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.

Then they invented ideas about me – some of them sensible and some of them not very sensible. From time to time I sent them some hints – specially in the life of Jesus – to help them get closer to what I’m really like.

But there was nothing and nobody around before me to invent me. Rather like somebody who writes a story in a book, I started making up the story of the world and eventually invented human beings like you who could ask me awkward questions!’

And then he’d send you lots of love and sign off.

I know he doesn’t usually write letters, so I have to do the best I can on his behalf. Lots of love from me too.

+Archbishop Rowan

Today's readings grant us glimpses into the lives of two older men, Aaron and Nicodemus.  Each of them steeped in religious knowledge and entrusted with God's work.  Each of them flawed.

Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22
Numbers 20:22-29
John 3:1-13

It is the Aaron story which drew my attention today.

The Aaron story recounts the last part of his story, he and Moses go to Mount Hor, along with Aaron's son.  There, the elderly Aaron is divested of his priestly garments, which are transferred to his son, and then he dies.  The people undertake a thirty day season of mourning - this is a significant death in their community.

There is one verse that stands out, verse 24 says:

Let Aaron be gathered to his people. For he shall not enter the land that I have given to the Israelites, because you rebelled against my command at the waters of Meribah.

Aaron is not permitted to enter the Land of Promise (neither, is Moses, but that's a separate story), the human 'happy ending' is denied him.

Why?

The reason is the sin of the community - you rebelled, the people rebelled - not personal culpability.  He had not brought this on himself, rather this is the consequence of corporate attitudes and actions.

So what's next for Aaron?

Hell?  No.  The ancients had no such concept, Sheol was not a place of punishment, but a kind of shady underworld where vague spirits existed.  No.  Aaron is gathered to his people - to those who went before him, his blood ancestors, his community forebears.

I suppose the thing that strikes me most is the implication of the sins of the community for the one person.  It is a small jump from here to some sort of vicarious atonement view, but I'm not convinced it's one that is justified.  More, there is a reminder of the implications of my action (or inaction) as part of a community on the here-and-now experiences of others.  Would that these were 'red and blue' or 'black and white' divisions; would that it were easy to see what is sin and what is not; would that I even glimpsed (mentally anyway) the Land of Promise, humanly speaking, towards which the journey is headed.

The stories of Moses and Aaron have long served to remind me that I may not see my dreams fulfilled, even if (miraculously) they align perfectly with God's will.  But today, I almost feel a sense of relief and release... it is not all down to me whether I do or not!  Whilst I am obviously responsible for my own choices, those made by others may irrevocably impact my experiences... for good or for ill.

But, come what may, God gathers in the tired, old, flawed servant, and God hands on the mantle, the role, to a new generation.

God of Aaron

You chose this man for service

Knowing the limits of his ability

And the likelihood that he would fail

You chose him,

And you did not reject him

Though he failed

And was caught up in the failures of others

God of [my name]

You have chosen me for service

Knowing the limits of my ability

And the inevitability that I will fail

You chose me

And you do not reject

Though I fail

And am complicit in the failures of others

God of Nicodemus

God of all who come by night

Longing for knowledge

Seeking for truth

Open our minds

Open our hearts

Breath new life into our being

That we all may live always for you

And, when life is past,

Be gathered by you

To eternal rest

Amen