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A Skinny Fairtrade Latte in the Food Court of Life - Page 304

  • Well Worth Reading

    Sasha has seemingly decided that she would like to read the book that kept me occupied for a good couple of hours!

    They are right, all the people who told me this book. "The Return of the Prodigal Son" by Henri Nouwen is a 'must read'.  As with so many things, there was no sense that I wished I'd read it years ago, rather there was more a sense that, for me, now is a good time to read it for the first time.

    Given the number of sermons I've heard that have arisen from people reading this book, or which have been at least informed by it, I was somewhat surprised how hugely autobiographical it is.  Nouwen is incredibly open about his own inner world, an inner world that certainly resonates with me, and I am sure with many others.  Hugely honest and vulnerable, it is the story of 'living with' a painting for a number of years and of a 'journey' prompted by comments made by others.

    What also struck me is that the assorted sermons I've heard have always focused on the sons - not one has ever explored our own becoming of father/mother, with which Nouwen's exploration ends.  I am curious as to why this is, and what it says about the concept and our willingness to engage with it.  For me, it was as helpful as the explorations of self as both younger and elder son, integrating the two in a coherent whole.

    So, an easy book to read - no big words or theological jargon - with some deep ideas to ponder.  And it comes with a free postcard of the painting too!

  • Shameless Self Indulgence

    This sort of arises from memories...

    Recently I had lunch with a friend who chose have French toast and bacon. 

    That brought back memories of how my Dad used to make what was, in my view, the best French toast, and I'd had a yen for some since then. 

    So this morning after a visit to GP nurse for some routine bloods, I called into a local emporium and chose this - French toast with bananas, berries, toasted almonds and honey. 

    It was very scrumptious, and slid down nicely with a decaf skinny latte!

     

    (Oh, and for the record, I don't miss bacon one bit since I stopped eating meat, so maybe I never loved it as much as I thought I did!)

  • Way Out Lent (30) Numbers 21, 22, 23, 24

    Today begins with a "cyber wave" to those valiant folk who are working their way through Exodus and Numbers.  The close reading is giving me much to ponder, which is a good thing.  My memory of Numbers as being "a good read once you get past the lists at the start" now seems decidedly iffy - maybe that's part of the mystery of it all.

    Four chapters today, simply because any other split would interrupt the story of Balaam, which seems a tad daft.

    Lost Scrolls

    Mention is made in this text of the "The Book of the Wars of the Lord", possibly a collection of ballads or poems describing victories, of which no extant version remains, and which seems to have been lost way back in time (along with some other scrolls/books mentioned elsewhere in the scriptures).  Lots of stuff online you can check out, I chose this one as it's from a Jewish source, hence not subject to Christianised interpretation.

    I think it is good to be reminded that the documents that comprise our sacred writings were once stand alone and part of a wider corpus of writing.  Good to be reminded that choices were made on what to include and what to exclude.  Good to see that, however divinely inspired such choices and edits were, these are the work of human hands and therefore subject to the limitations of human finitude.

    Bronze Snake

    A peculiar story, yet one that is picked up in the fourth gospel as part of the conversation with Nicodemus:

     ‘Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. (John 3: 11 - 14 NRSV)

    The bronze serpent on a pole lifted up by Moses carries a very strong echo of the Greek myth of the rod of Asclepius and the symbol of one or two snakes wrapped round a stick remains to this day a symbol used by pharmacists and medical organisations alike.

    agha nima.png

    The healing/salvation motif associated with the 'lifting up' is interesting, as is the idea that to 'look upon the snake' or, by parallel, to 'look upon Christ' defeats death. 

    I'm not going to speculate over the literal or mythological nature of the story, I don't think that's helpful.  What has always fascinated me is how the symbol has found its way into everyday use in a world so secularised that any mythic or sacred origin is long lost.

     Balaam (and the Talking Donkey)

     

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    Any excuse to post a picture of Shrek's talking donkey friend!

    The story of Balaam is one that is often told only in part, in which he is portrayed as a stupid, stubborn man who is cruel to his donkey.  The fact that the donkey is then granted human speech adds to our delight in the story.  Whether this is part of the original manuscript or an insertion (omitting chapter 22: 21 - 35 would not detract from the sense of the story, and would overcome the slight complication of God telling Balaam to go and then being angry when he does so (22:21)) is not so important, in my view, as the fact that we reduce the story to this.

    In essence, Balaam is approached by Balak to help defeat the Israelites.  With lots of things happening in threes (nice mystic number) Balaam speaks to God and is convinced to speak blessing rather than curse over the Israelites.  If anyone is a bit dim, maybe it is Balak who, each time a blessing is made takes Balaam somewhere else expecting him to speak to curse. 

    It is, actually, a very comedic account, if we step back from the warlike intent behind it.  And it's also a very profound one - given the choice to curse or to bless, what will you do?

    In the gospels Jesus is recorded as saying, "‘But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you."  Likewise the apostle Paul, in the letter to Rome:

    "Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all."

    Perhaps in the story of Balaam we find an important message hidden amongst the myth/supernatural, not that God is 'for us' and will always bless us, but instead that when invited to 'curse' we should at least contemplate the possibility of 'blessing' instead.  What may need more thought is what such blessing may look like..

     

     

     

  • Feel Good Factor...

    Today has a definite 'feel good' edge to it.

    It began with "sparkly gingerbread latte cake"* and coffee and a great chat

    It continued with the postman bringing me a new book to read

    It will conclude with dinner with a couple I married almost a year ago

    Very blessed indeed.

     

    * three layers of cake: coffee, gingerbread, vanilla; sandwiched with butter cream and topped with sparkly sprinkles!  Decadent and yummy!  Must have a go myself sometime.

  • Way Out Lent (29) Numbers 19-20

    A rather odd collection of material today - these ancient scrolls certainly seem to be more like a 'patchwork' than a systematic record.

    Red Heifer

    Reading this part of the narrative sparked memories for me of a time, more than a decade ago, when I reflected on this ritual in conjunction with the more familiar (if often not accurately recalled) account of the scapegoat.  At the time I noted that the heifer is slaughtered whereas the scapegoat is sent, alive into the wilderness to carry away sin.

    The red heifer rite is concerned with ritual cleansing after contact with a corpse.  The ashes, mixed with 'living water' - spring water rather than collected rain water - are sprinkled on contaminated people or items to bring about cleansing.

    Theologians see some parallels with baptism, and certainly there are some broad similarities to the sprinkling with 'holy water' of people and objects carried out in Catholic and Orthodox traditions.

    Whilst we would not consider anyone or anything defiled by the contact with or of a corpse, it is fair to say that we value rituals to help us move forward after a death.  Funerals as we know them did not exist until comparatively recently, and they have certainly evolved enormously in the time that I've been conducting such services.

    "Last rites" by a priest, and "last offices" by a nurse (or in some faiths by appointed people), are rituals that remain even in a secular age.  Rituals for the living, apart from funerals, are not part of my experience.  So I am left wondering what might be gained or lost with other practices.

    Miriam and Aaron

    In the course of a few paragraphs, both Miriam and Aaron die, seemingly of old age, and each is buried.

    Miriam's death is recorded with minimal detail, she dies at Kadesh and is buried there. 

    Aaron's death is preceded by the ceremonial passing on of his office to his son Eleazar, in a private ceremony on Mount Hor, at the edge of Edom.  This death triggers thirty days of mourning.

    Had it not been for Miriam, the story would be totally different - it was she who kept watch over her baby brother, hidden in the rushes; she who spoke to Pharaoh's daughter; she who enlisted her own mother to nurse and wean the child.  It was Miriam who led the women in celebrating the crossing of the Red Sea.  It was Miriam who bore in her body the consequences of hers and Aaron's actions.

    There is no funeral, no eulogy, just a burial by persons unknown, who later had to perform a ritual cleansing before being allowed back 'in'.

    There is no funeral or eulogy for Aaron either; he, too, is buried without ceremony, laid to rest by unknown hands.  But his is deemed a signifcant death, so much so that a month of national mourning ensues. 

    Nowadays it often seems to me that national outpourings of grief arise almost at the drop of a hat - some minor celebrity, or some long retired singer or actor dies, often at a decent age, and suddenly flowers are left at 'shrines' and there is much pulbic expression of grief.  Perhaps I'm unfair... maybe these deaths and the responses they generate trigger something deep for some people.  Perhaps in a culture that has clinicalised death, and that increasingly minimises the 'committal' element of funeral rites whilst maximising the "celebration", people are meeting an inner need for ritual, for outward expression of inner feelings.  Perhaps it is 'safer' or 'easier' to be part of a shared public expression of grief than to be open about the agonies of personal loss?

    Polite Request

    The people need to pass through Edom, so Moses does the sensible thing and contacts the authorities to request safe passage.  When this is denied, he asks a second time, offering reassurances that the people will pay their way.

    In what we know to be a bloody and violent story, this seems an important detail.  It makes good sense, and doesn't require any comment, save to note that it is there, and that someone considered it worth recording.

    A Familiar Pattern...

    Another account of the people experiencing difficulty and grumbling about their lot.  The spies had spoken of a rich land, had brought back grapes, figs and pomegranates but this land is dry and barren, nothing will grow here!

    Moses is furious!  Thus far he has done as God told him and has more than once begged God not to destroy the people.  This time his frustration and anger finds outward expression.  Instructed by God to hold the staff and command water from the rock, he goes further, hitting the rock twice and causing water to gush from it.

    This one act, the product of frustration, fatigue, disillusionment or whatever, hardly seems to warrant the consequences that ensue - lack of trust in God means that neither Moses or Aaron will enter the Land of the Promise.

    Perhaps, because these stories are all written looking backwards, what we see is an attempt to make sense of a sad reality.  When Moses died before journey's end, maybe attempts were made to make sense of this - it hardly seems fair that after all he had done he didn't get there.  Maybe he had angered God.  Perhaps people recalled times when they had, collectively, made life difficult for Moses, times when he had shown his less lovely side, becoming angry, acting rashly.  Possibly such reflection led them to deduce that God had denied Moses the achievement of the goal, and that somehow the responsibility lay with him alone.

    I find myself wondering about the stories told of powerful leaders in our own time, and how readily they are identified as 'good' or 'bad', and how they are usually accorded full responsibility for the public expression of their actions and words... There will always be unwritten, untold stories of what went on behind the scenes, of the struggles and frustrations they encountered along the way, always indivduals or groups whose words or actions have contributed, for good or ill, to the overall story.  Probably not every story is 'redeemable', certainly some stories are horrific and the people described apparently wicked.  At the same time, I choose to believe that no-one is all bad or beyond the touch of God's redemptive grace...

     

    Rather a lot of death and dying today.  But even so some things worth pondering.