Meditation: WE DO NOT PRESUME by John de Gruchy

WE DO NOT PRESUME

 I Corinthians 11:23-26

Luke 7:1-10

Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; therefore I did not presume to come to you.  But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed.

Today is Maundy Thursday.  Maundy is an old English word that refers to the commandment which Jesus gave to his disciples to love one another during the Last Supper (Jn. 13:34) just after he had told them that one would betray him and another deny him.  The irony is that while this new commandment to love one another was given to them at the Supper, the Supper soon became a source of controversy and division amongst Christians, and used as a means of discipline and exclusion instead of grace, and known by different names that reflect this.

But whether we call this meal the Lord's Supper, Mass, Holy Communion, or the Eucharist each name tells us something important about what we do here.  It is the Lord's Supper, because it is Jesus who invites us to his Table; therefore it is his and not ours.  It is the Mass, because we are remember Jesus' sacrifice for us and are sent into the world to serve others; it is the Holy Communion because we are united in communion with Christ and each other; and it is the Eucharist because it is a feast of thanksgiving for God's creative and redeeming love for us in Christ.  Whether we celebrate it simply or with much ritual, we come to this Table to meet the risen Christ who makes himself known in the breaking of bread, and offers himself to us in the bread and wine.  There is nothing magical about what we do, but in celebrating this gift beyond words we acknowledge that the mystery of God's love for us in Christ is far greater than we can understand.  But we do know that in coming to this Table we commit ourselves to love one another and serve others in the world.  So who is worthy to participate?  Are there rules and regulations that govern those who wish to come and take communion?

During his ministry Jesus often invited others to share with him in the meals he celebrated with his disciples, many of them regarded unclean or unworthy by the self-righteous and pious.  In like manner today he invites everyone who wants to come to do so.  It is not for  anyone to exclude those whom they deem unworthy, and to be so presumptuous as to decide who should be allowed to participate.  Unlike so many other religious meals, this one is especially for those who feel unworthy, for these Jesus  always made most welcome.  As he said, he did not come to call the righteous to the banquet, but sinners.  So accepting the invitation has nothing to do with our own worthiness; it has everything to do with Jesus' grace and love for us which makes us worthy because in his sight we are even worth dying for!  Amazing grace, how can it be?  So we come with great gratitude, and we come humbly to receive a gift beyond words.

All of this is captured in the prayer of humble access we say together.  While we use a modern form of the prayer,  the original is, I think more beautiful.  It was first written for the Anglican Prayer Book in the 16th century and begins: "We do not presume to come to this table ... trusting in our own righteousness, but in your manifold and great mercies."  We don't presume to come because we consider ourselves righteous and  entitled to: we come because of Jesus' considers us worthy and invites us all: "Come to me all who are burdened and heavy laden."  Some people react negatively to the prayer of Humble Access because they think it suggests that we are like dogs scrapping for morsels under the master's table!!  But the truth is the very opposite.  It has nothing to do with our own worthiness or lack of it; it has everything to do with God's embrace of all of us as sons and daughters, and telling us that in his sight we are worthy!

The Roman Catholic Mass does not have this prayer of Humble Access.  Instead it does uses words from the gospel on which the prayer is based.  Jesus was asked by the Jewish elders of a town to go to a Roman centurion's house to heal his slave because, as they said, "he is worthy of having you do this for him."  But the centurion stops Jesus in his tracks. "Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; therefore I did not presume to come to you.  But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed."  It is a remarkable story.  As a Gentile and part of the occupying army he was unclean.  He knew that.  So he did not presume to be righteous, or worthy of Jesus' time and ministry.  But it is this man, Jesus said, who had more faith than anyone else who were insiders.  We remember him every time we come to this table and say "We come to your Table Lord, trusting not in any goodness of our own, but only in your great mercy... You have declared to us your grace; you have called us to your banquet.  So by your Spirit feed us now with your body and blood, that you may live in us and we in you." 

We may not understand precisely what all this means, and may even wonder whether we believe it can be true.  But we come at Jesus' invitation nevertheless, and that for him that is sufficient indication of our faith even though we may not think we have any.  And time and again we go from this place renewed and strengthened, and even healed, which  is sufficient evidence that Jesus is truly present to welcome and make us whole.   I don't begin to comprehend this mystery, but ever since that first Maundy Thursday when Jesus broke bread with his disciples, told them to love one another and do this in remembrance of him, those who have come to his Table without presumption, without trying to prove our worthiness, have discovered that in God's sight we are of infinite worth.  That is the good news of Good Friday.  "But God," so St. Paul writes, "proves his love for us in that while we were all sinners Christ died for us." (Rom. 5:8)

April 2014  Maundy Thursday

Meditation: NEED WASHING? by John de Gruchy

NEED WASHING?

Romans 6:1-4

John 9:1-11

Then I went and washed and received my sight.

A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Woolies. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there, under the awning, just inside the door of the shop.  We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day.
I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I get lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world.  Memories of running, splashing, so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day. Her little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in, 'Mum let's run through the rain,' she said.  'What?' Mum asked. 'Let's run through the rain!' She repeated. 'No, darling, we'll wait until it slows down a bit,' Mum replied. This young child waited a minute and repeated: 'Mum, let's run through the rain.' 'We'll get soaked if we do,' Mum said. 'No, we won't, Mum. That's not what you said this morning, the young girl said as she tugged at her Mum's arm. 'This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?'  'Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, He can get us through anything! ' The entire crowd were completely silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one left. Mum paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith. 'Darling, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD let's us get wet, well maybe we just need washing,' Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They got soaked. They were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars. And yes, I did.  I ran.  I got wet.  I needed washing.

I first read this story while I was furiously peddling on the exercise bicycle at the gym where Isobel and I go twice a week in preparation for the Mr and Mrs Universe competition for the over seventies.  But it came back to me with new meaning on Easter morning when I went  to the Easter Vigil at St. Peter's Church.  It started at 5.30 long before sunrise and the church was in darkness, but I found a place near the front and discovered that Dee and Allan Powell were sitting next to me in the pew.  The Vigil, which lasts two hours, begins with the lighting of the Paschal Candle, and then from that flame all the candles we were holding were lit.  Eight scripture readings followed, beginning with the creation story and ending with the resurrection of Jesus, the start of the new creation, and then came the sermon.  But before communion, we had to renew our baptismal vows.  That is always challenging because we renounce certain things including the devil and affirm loving others which, of course, includes our enemies! 

Then the priest moves among the congregation with a small leafy branch which he dips in water and then showers everybody in the congregation -- not a few drips here and there but a real heavy sprinkle.  It was like sitting in the rain.  Bill Davis even came prepared in a raincoat!  But Dee and I got drenched, or so it seemed at the time.  And we weren't even standing outside Woolies in the rain.  We were, so we thought, quite out of the range of nature's capricious deeds, holding a lighted candle, and giving the devil the shove within the secure precincts of the sanctuary!  But we all need a good washing from time to time, an occasional run through the rain or an Easter sprinkling in St. Peter's to help us see life differently.  By then our eyes were truly open even though the sun had not yet risen.  Like the man born blind, I had been washed and received my sight.

Easter is traditionally the day in Christian tradition when people are baptised.  They are buried, as St. Paul puts it, into the death of Christ and raised together with him into the newness of life. (Romans 6)  I know how this feels quite literally because once long ago as a teenager finding my way on the Christian journey, and in order to hedge my bets, I decided that being baptised as an infant was not good enough for me, the true born again in the midst of pagans.  I needed to be plunged into a pool like the first believers. Now I am not going to debate the merits of how people should be baptised or when, nor do I disown by baptism as a baby.  Rather, as one of my professors sagely commented when I discussed it with him years later: "Regard your second baptism as a renewal of your first baptism as an infant."  It wasn't a re-baptism, but a renewal of my baptism. And that, for me, is the important thing though I know some who will strongly disagree.  We constantly need to renew our baptismal vows from time to time, to be sprinkled or drenched again as some of us were on Easter day.  Baptism isn't just something that happens way back in the distant past of our lives when the sprinkling of water woke us rudely from slumber, opened our eyes and made us scream!  It is, rather, a way of living in the present.  This is why Catholics sprinkle themselves with water each time they enter a church -- it reminds them of their baptism.  I think that is great symbolism and has much merit. 

But it is not just when we go to church that we need to recall our baptism.  Everyday as we wash our faces every day, or get fully immersed in the shower, we might well do so and remember what it means for the day ahead.  Yes, as the young girl's mother discovered outside Woolies, we all need a good washing from time to time if not everyday.  We need to get rid of the dirt, the bad memories, the ugly deeds, the angry words, the unjust actions, and failure to show compassion and love,  And sometimes, as happens here in our chapel and often in the course of our lives, we need the washing of tears.  For shedding tears, is a baptism into the suffering of Christ and the pain of others and our own.  So take a run out in the rain, wake up and wash your face, or jump in the pool so that you can see again and wake in the newness of the life Christ gives you.

John de Gruchy

Volmoed     24 April 2014

Meditation: MAN ON A DONKEY by John de Gruchy

MAN ON A DONKEY

Mark 11:1-11

"Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!"

Perhaps without knowing it, every week as we celebrate the Eucharist we remember Palm Sunday, the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey at the beginning of Holy Week.  We join the crowd who welcomed Jesus into the city at the beginning of the week that ended in his crucifixion.  We do so as, in the prayer of thanksgiving, we welcome Jesus into our midst as the one "who comes in the name of our Lord.    But why say "Hosanna?" We have become accustomed to shout out "Hallelujah!" at the end of the liturgy, but why e say "Hosanna" every time as we give thanks in the Eucharist?   We are not welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem back then are we?  No we are here at Volmoed on a Thursday morning having communion.  Yet there it is, embedded in the prayer we say week by week, perhaps puzzled by why it is there, or simply accepting that it is and  not bothering to find out why.  So what is going on here?

The clue is in the contrast between a horse and a donkey.  In olden times kings and knights rode on horses when they went into battle, or entered cities they had come to liberate or conquer.  Peasants, poor and humble folk, if they rode at all, did so on donkeys when they travelled from one village to another, or went to town on market day.  Horses are noble and proud creatures.  They are owned, groomed, and ridden by the powerful, famous and rich.  Each week around the world there are horse races that attract thousands of people.  But nobody attends a donkey race except maybe some farm labourers in a dusty township in the Northern Cape.  What president would arrive at the EU or AU or UN or our own Parliament seated on a donkey cart?  Not even an ordinary member of parliament would do that.  No, the President arrives in a gleaming Mercedes or BMW. And alongside are the proud horses that accompany the procession as a sign of power.  Don't even think that donkey carts of VW Beetle might be more appropriate, for that would suggest that politicians are a bunch of asses or clowns.  Perish the thought.  It's a BMW or nothing! 

But the peasants who welcomed Jesus riding on a donkey knew that only cruel conquerors rode into Jerusalem on powerful steeds, and they also knew that Herod the king was a puppet of the Romans who, even if he had many horses in his stable, was impotent to save them from their oppression.  No, it was the man on the donkey who excited the people that first Palm Sunday.  After all, had not the prophets foretold that the Messiah would come to save Israel in such a manner?  No wonder they shouted out "Hosanna,"  which literally means "save us", deliver us from our oppression and set us free.  They knew the words by heart because they prayed them daily during the Feast of the Tabernacles and seven times on the seventh day as they waved palm branches and sang Psalm 118:  "Hosanna.  Save us we beseech you, O Lord!... Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord." (25-6)

When we say these words in the Eucharist we are not only praying for the salvation of the world and our own salvation, not only for the liberation of the oppressed and the freedom of people and ourselves from bondage, we are acknowledging that our salvation will not come in  a gleaming Cadillac's with outriders flashing blue lights, but through the humble and compassionate service of those whose life-style expresses dedication to the task.  The salvation of the world and our country is not dependent on the promises made by politicians as they jet into town and leave again at high speed under escort.  Our salvation comes through him who came to serve and give his life to set us free.  That is why we cry out "Hosanna: Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"

Palm Sunday is a dramatic challenge to the abuse of political power when used to control and dominate people rather than save, heal and deliver them.  Of course, political power is important in governing a country and sorting out the world's problems.  So I am not an anarchist who wants to get rid of governments or United Nations and the like.  On the contrary, I think they should be strengthened but also challenged to do their job better than they are and, fortunately there are those politicians and public servants who use their power for the common good.  But power is also problematic because it so easily becomes corrupt, and the more powerful the more corrupt.  The moment power is abused for selfish gain and not used for the public good it is no longer of God.  Those who come in that way do not come in the name of the Lord.   For God's power manifest in the man on the donkey is the power that saves, heals, and transforms.  So on Palm Sunday God throws down the gauntlet to all those who are abusing their power and authority whether in government, town councils, or any of the institution including  the church.

But it is not only politicians who abuse power; we also know how fickle people can be and how we all can be sucked into the system that benefits us at the expense of others.  Many of those who shouted "Hosanna" on Palm Sunday shouted "Crucify him" and "release Barabbas" the next Friday.  And even Jesus' own disciples who loved the limelight of Palm Sunday were decidedly uneasy as the week unfolded.  Judas betrayed Jesus because he was disappointed in the way in which Jesus refused to take Jerusalem like a genuine liberator riding on a horse.  Crowds prefer their heroes to ride BMW's at high speed and act like power figures rather than travel humbly on donkeys, because it seems to improve their own status.  Look how powerful our leaders are compared to yours!  Yet in our better moments we know that Jesus' way is the way of salvation for us and the world.  That is why we are his followers and join together here today to break bread in thanksgiving for his self-giving love.  For that is the power of God at work in changing lives and bringing hope to the world.  "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!  Hosanna in the highest!"  Soon Easter Day will dawn and we will also be shouting Hallelujah as well.

John de Gruchy

Volmoed 10 April 2014  Lent 5