Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows I am a bit of the John 15-aholic.  Although it was the good people of Dibley who chose to make banners based on it, I'm sure my pre-occupation with it was influential in that decision.  And I don't think there is a congregation I've worked with in the last umpteen years that hasn't been subjected to my take on it.  So I was delighted to spot this on the Beyond 400 website which echoes so much I have pondered and thought and said.

Pruning is, I am sure, painful for the poor plant, but it is necessary for its health.  It is fruitful branches that get pruned, not unfruitful ones - we need to name and clebrate past 'harvests' rather than simply consign to the 'bin' activities or practices that are now obsolete.  Only if people feel their past work is valued are they able to embrace the new.  It's a lesson I remind myself of from time to time.  Maybe as BUGB (and BUS and BUW et al) move forward, we need to keep it in mind too?

Passing the half way mark, and into the fourth week of Lent now.

Today's diverse and intriguing selection of passages is

Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22
Genesis 9:8-17
Ephesians 1:3-6

As it happens, I read them in GNB as that is the default version on the software I happen to have on this computer.  I'd love to check a whole heap of translation but the two online tools I use - Bible Gateway and Oremus - seem to be 'down' today (see* at end of post)  And I am way too lazy to drag several big Bibles off my shelves to read what they say, but have checked a couple.  Obviously the key message is identical, but nuances vary.

Of the three, it was the psalm, or part psalm, that caught my attention, especially the beginning of verse 17...

Some were fools, suffering because of their sins and because of their evil;
they couldn't stand the sight of food and were close to death.
Then in their trouble they called to the LORD, and he saved them from their distress.
He healed them with his command and saved them from the grave.
They must thank the LORD for his constant love, for the wonderful things he did for them.
They must thank him with sacrifices, and with songs of joy must tell all that he has done.

Psalm 107: 17 -22 GNB

"Some were fools..."

CEV says, 'some of you were foolish...'

NRSV says, 'some were sick through their sinful ways, and because of their iniquities endured affliction'

NIV says, 'some became fools...'

Hebrew interlinear would give something like, 'because of their iniquity through the way of fools...'

Interesting.  At one extreme, GNB and NIV, people are called fools, at the other, NRSV, no such attribute is assigned, in between lies the Hebrew and CEV, which denote foolishness.  The distinction between terming a person a 'fool' and their actions 'foolish' is subtle but important.  Especially since there are the scary words of Jesus in the Matthew 5:22

"But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, 'Raca,' is answerable to the Sanhedrin. But anyone who says, 'You fool!' will be in danger of the fire of hell." NIV, inclusivised.

Lots of Bibles have a footnote here, because 'fool' is a word used carelessly and casually in contemporary English, suggesting stupidity, ignorance, daftness, silliness etc.  But for the first century hearers, so we are told, it meant 'some one who was morally deficient'.  And so we also need to heed Matthew 7:1-2

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you."

To say nothing of the line on the Lord's Prayer that trips so readily from our tongues... forgive our sins as we forgive...

Do I do or say things that may be construed 'foolish' in an everyday sense?  Undoubtedly.  Does that make me 'a fool'?  I kind of hope not.

Do I say or do, or not say or not do, things that render me morally deficient, things that could be construed 'sin' daily.  Alas, if not the kind of things that will ever make tabloid headlines, then yes, I do.  Am I sinner?  Of course I am.

But... if I take seriously what the Bible says, and specifically what Jesus says, I have no right to judge anyone else and assign them the title 'fool' or 'morally deficient' or a 'sinner' that privilege lies with God alone.  That means those whose actions or in-actions I perceive as sin-filled.  Perhaps I am permitted to express my disquiet, but I have no right to pronounce judgement.  I am in danger hear of tying myself into theological knots!  Surely sin should be named - injustice, idolatry, greed, lust, etc, etc.  Yes, it should.  But not as if I am judge, jury and executioner.  Oh dear, I have rambled along and ended up no clearer than when I began... I really am a wandering Aramean in a wilderness of bewilderment...

Name Un-named, God beyond defining

How easily words trip from my tongue

How readily words like 'fool' or 'idiot' are uttered

And cannot be withdrawn

How quickly I cause damage with carelessness of language

(or am hurt by that of others)

How smoothly I slide into judgementalism

That I am somehow morally superior

To those who disagree with my understanding

How often I replay conversations in my head

'Should have said this'

'Wish I hadn't said that'

How do I find the balance?

How do I name as wrong that which I am convinced is wrong

And not condemn the person for whom that is not so?

How do I live with disagreement in a way that brings life

Rather than avoids confrontation?

How do I avoid foolishness - stupidity, ignorance, carelessness, callousness?

God who is Word

Transform my words

That Love may motivate each syllable I utter

That Grace may ooze from sentences I speak

That my anxiety and rehearsing of things said or unsaid

May be displaced

By prayer for those

With whom I speak.

*Bible Gateway now back up!

There is in physics, or chemistry, or materials science, or all three, the concept of an elastic limit.  It runs very crudely thus - you can stretch something by so much and when you let go it returns to its original length and state.  If you stretch it beyond its elastic limit, it cannot do this, it is damaged, weakened and unable to fulfil its intended role.  Usually, from my limited experience of experiments related to this, the yield point occurs close to one end, not exactly in the middle.  You could try it, I suppose, with a rubber band, keeping on stretching it just a bit further and a bit further until it breaks.  I am wondering if there is an analogy here for churches that endeavour to be broad?  Is it possible to stretch too far or too often, and so lead to inevitably snapping off of some part?

There is another concept, the ductile-brittle transtion that occurs in some metals at certain temperatures, and was, if anyone is vaguely interested, the flaw in the design of the Liberty Ships.  Essentially, above this temprature, metals are ductile, bendable, malleable, shapeable.  Below this temperature they are hard, brittle, fragile, easily snapped and broken.  Is there maybe an analogy here for churches attempting to tackle thorny topics?  How do we keep ourselves ductile rather than brittle?  Is such a transition inevitable under certain 'temperatures' or can we find ways to remain ductile?

When I read or hear stuff in the media about churches at the moment, it all feels very polarised, lots of brittleness, lots of talk of limits being reached.  I find, too, that I become more hard and spikey in my responses... is it possible to remain stretchy without snapping?  Is it possible to avoid the chill of the transition to brittleness?  Is the good ship Liberty in Christ doomed to break up in a sea of disagreement?

I wish I had some answers... instead I try to focus on doing what God has called me to do, being who God has called me to be, and hoping that's good enough.

Today's readings:

Psalm 84

Ezra 6:1-16

Mark 11:15-19

Still with our Temple theme, we have the account of Darius undertaking the rebuilding of the Temple which had been destroyed under Nebuchadnezzar (a name I always enjoy typing!) and we have Jesus overturning the tables in the Temple.  Very contrasting stories, which serve as reminder about our attitudes to buildings. 

One of the dangers of my largely 'functionalist' if such a word exists, views of church premises, is that we can become lazy and cavalier in our attitude to them.  I suspect I confuse people with the hotchpotch of contrdictions I express.  I get annoyed when dead light bulbs aren't replaced, when coats and bags are heaped on available surfaces, when things are left lying around so that anyone coming to worship enters an untidy room.  I am known to realign table cloths, adjust seating, centre symbols (yes, very anal, I know) to create a mood, a moment.  At the same time, I am untroubled by oft-repaired battered hymnbooks, by chairs with wonky legs, by children wandering during prayers (a rare occurence).  I like to think that I know what I am about, that I have a way of making a meaningful act of worship without being obssessive about the material, of beauty without idolatry, of pragmatism with utility.  Or something like that.

The two stories maybe express something of the tension I sense, as well as others. 

The Ezra affirms the place of building something beautiful for God, it allows for luxurious cathedrals built at great financial and human cost.  The beautiful house of God, inspiring awe, has its place, so long as it does not become the object of adulation or the vehicle of oppression. 

The Mark takes us in another direction, a confusing one that has less to do with the selling of animals and more to do with the purpose of the Temple.  In a bizarre conflation of religious legalism, we find a market set up in the only part of the Temple where foreigners are permitted to worship.  People needed animals, that was fine.  People possibly needed to change their money to a common currency.  People also came to pray.  I suppose the issue, really, was how the legalistic desire to avoid taint from the world actually became an obstacle to welcoming those who came from the world seeking God.  No dirty money.  Not just any old sheep or pigeon picked up in the street.  Only the best, the cleanest, the ritually correct, for God.  And this desire for purity failed, it became a barrier, a stumbling block.

All of which makes me think.  What self-rightousness or attitude of mine leads to actions which deny others access to God?  If Jesus wandered in to my church one Sunday morning, how would he react?

Let us build a house where love can dwell

And all can safely live

A place where saints and sinners tell

How love learns to forigve

Built of hopes and dreams and laughter

Rock of truth and vault of grace

Here the love of God shall end divisions

All are welcome

All are welcome

All are welcome in this place... (1)

All welcome, Lord?

Everyone?

The ones who don't understand the way I do?

The ones who don't beleive what I believe?

The ones I think are wrong?

The ones whose life styles challenge my understanding of righteousness?

All are welcome in this place...

A stumbling block, Lord?

Me?

With my fear of offending anyone and loinging to be liked

With my desire to agree to disagree and not try to change their minds

With my delight in diversity and my commitment to creative tension

With my sense that that this is all bigger and more than I can ever know or understand?

All are welcome in this place...

For just and unjust a place at the table

Abuser, abused, with the need to forgive

In anger, in hurt, a mindset of mercy

For just and unjust, a new way of life

And God will delight, when we are creators of justice and joy

Yes, God will delight, when we are creators of justice, justice and joy... (2)

So Lord, that's what you mean, then

A stretching so wide it hurts?

An embrace that looks like crucifision - arms flung wide, hands nailed in place

The scourging

The jibes

The dying to live?

All welcome...

Academic, illeterate

Vagrant, vain

Well, unwell

Sinner, saint

Refugee, rebel, rioter

Pimp, paedophile, prostitute

Dealer, addict,

Abuser, abused

-phobe and -phile

All welcome... and having a place at your table

Your table

In your house

Lord, can it be so?

May it be so...

(1) Marty Haugen GIA Publications Inc.

(2) Shirley Erena Murray (c) Hope Publishing Company

Yesterday I went to see The Best Exotic Marigold Hotelabout which I have heard only extremely positive remarks.  So, either I have well and truly missed the point, or I am very old-fashioned or it is, as I deduced in places cringingly racist.  I don't find it funny to see racism portrayed in a c21 context, and I was thrown when the entire cinema audience (so far as I could tell) except me roared with laughter at the racist bits.  The story line wasn't exactly profound, and the few bits that did make me chuckle seemed lost on the rest of the audience.  So, there you go.  Either I'm a grumpy old woman or I missed the point or - just possibly - the film is not anywhere near as good as others think.