30th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year B

This Sunday’s responsorial psalm contains these beautiful words: ‘Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap. They go out full of tears carrying seed for the sowing; they come back full of song, carrying their sheaves.’

Anyone who has done, and who still does, any gardening, knows that the antithesis of tears and song is not so far off the mark. When I was in ministry in Hastings, I started a vegetable garden. The soil is so rich in the area they would say, ‘if you plant an ice block stick, it will grow!’

They neglected to mention oxalis and convolvulus also grow.

Sowing is a beautiful occupation, but it calls for hard work: the ground needs be prepared, the seed sown, then there is regular watering and aftercare.

The first green shoots bring an up-tempo beat of the heart (and if you are like me, a moistening of the eye!)

Then, after time, there is the delight in digging the new season’s potatoes, or a lettuce, cabbage, carrot, whatever.

The Sower
The image is a pencil, brush and ink drawing by Van Gogh, with the title “The Sower”, 1882. It hangs in The Hague, Netherlands.

Many of the great artists we admire know well the tears of sowing.

Once such artist is Vincent Van Gogh (1853 – 1890).

During his life, Vincent experienced poverty, loneliness, and much illness. At times life was so difficult for him that he felt he couldn’t go on.

Once he said, ‘It is getting too lonesome, too cold, to empty.’ Van Gogh’s greatest heartbreak was a failure to win recognition as an artist.

Most people who knew him considered him a failure.

He was only thirty-seven when he died and by then he had sold only one of his paintings. It was sold for a few hundred Francs.

He said, ‘Painting requires a lot of faith because one cannot prove at the outset that it will succeed.

“In the first years of hard struggling, it may even be a sowing in tears. But we shall check them because in the far distance we have a quiet hope of the harvest.’

In spite of everything, he persevered. And the harvest did come, though too late for him.

The day after his death a few of his friends came and decked out the small room where his coffin lay with some of his paintings. It was only then that they realized how beautiful those paintings were. Today his canvasses are almost beyond price.

May the words of Vincent van Gogh, ‘Life is only a kind of sowing; the harvest is not here,’ echoing the words of today’s Psalm, ‘sowing in tears, they will sing when they reap’ fall on rich soil.

Footnote: Van Gogh had a special interest in sowers throughout his artistic career. All in all, he made more than 30 drawings and paintings on this theme.

For more information on Vincent Van Gogh there is a worthwhile book titled, Van Gogh’s Untold Journey, Revelations of Faith, Family, & Artistic Inspiration – William J Havlicek, PhD.

 

29th Sunday Of Ordinary Time Year B

One of my favourite TV programmes is called “A Touch Of Frost”.

The programme is a detective series initially based on the Frost novels by R.D.Wingfield.

The series stars David Jason (of Open All Hours fame) as Detective Inspector Jack Frost an experienced and dedicated detective who frequently clashes with his superiors.

In his cases, Frost is usually assisted by a variety of different detective sergeants or constables.

Comic relief is provided by Frost’s interactions with the bureaucratically-minded Superintendent “Horn-rimmed Harry” Mullett.

While each episode deals with happenings like, murder, abduction, robbery, missing persons and the like, there is a minor motif at play in each episode and indeed throughout the series – Jack Frost pinches a sip from or the entire cups/mugs of drink of others!

Whether it be the desk sergeant, the police archivist, or the fellow detectives working immediately with Detective Inspector Frost having a drink nearby is not a sensible option.

The viewer decides for themselves what is in the cup/mug – is it tea, coffee, Milo, Bovril, fruit juice, cold water, hot water?

In Sunday Mark 10: 35 – 45, Jesus asks of James and John, “ Are you able to drink the cup that I must drink?”

We also make all sorts of assumptions, pain, agony, suffering, joy, happiness, wealth, health and wellbeing, a measure of grace, long life, heaven.

And, like Jack Frost one becomes aware of the contents of the cup/mug only when we have taken a sip!

By then it is too late! We have supped!

    • Mark 10: 35 – 45

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

The old city of Jerusalem has been surrounded by walls for its defence since ancient times.

These walls have been destroyed and rebuilt countless times. A journey to the old city of Jerusalem often involves a walk along the much-excavated walls.

In 16th century, during the reign of the Ottoman Empire in the region, the Ottoman Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent decided to fully rebuild the city walls on the remains of the ancient walls.

The construction lasted from 1535-1538 and these are the walls that exist today.

The “eye of a needle” referred to by Jesus in the Gospel has been claimed, by some commentators, to be a gate in the wall of Jerusalem, which opened after the main gate was closed at night.

A camel could only pass through this smaller gate if it was stooped and had its baggage removed.

So a travelling merchant wishing to enter the city to trade the following day would have to leave his precious cargo outside the gate, or remove the cargo from the camel and carry it in himself!

This story has been put forth since at least the 15th century, and possibly as far back as the 9th century.

However, there is no reliable evidence for the existence of such a gate.

Whether there was or was not such a gate we may never know for sure, however, it does provide us with a worthwhile metaphor to sit and reflect with.

Am I carrying something that prevents me from entering through the gate?

    • An unresolved hurt?
    • An unreconciled relationship?
    • Anger taking up space?
    • A physical or mental illness yet to be integrated as a part of who I am?
    • Blame for the unexpected and unwanted death of a family member or close friend?

The wonderful experience is that healing is found at the gate!

Jesus says, “I am the gate. Anyone who enters through me will be safe: they will go freely in and out and be sure of finding pasture.” (John 10:9)

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

This Sunday we read from the first book of the Bible, the Book of Genesis.

We read of the creation of the first persons, Adam and Eve.

When we read from this book it is helpful to remember we are in the field of myth.

The encyclopedia Britannica defines myth as:  a symbolic narrative, usually of unknown origin and at least partly traditional, that ostensibly relates actual events and that is especially associated with religious belief.

With myth we are in the field of storytelling – storytelling which points us in the direction of truth.

Myth is a little like a signpost.

The signpost will have a name on it, Halfmoon Bay, or Nelson St.

The sign is not the street; however, it does point us in the right direction.

Our Christian theology teaches us that God is a relationship of three persons to the point of forming one being, which we have named the Trinity.

Our Christian theology also teaches that the human person is made in the image of God, “imago Dei”.

As a consequence, might I suggest that at the heart of God’s creative instinct is not a him, or a her, rather at the heart is relationship.

Our Biblical text has the man being the first born.

When we talk in sequence there need always be a first and a second and a third etc.

This sequence does not talk of better than, of superiority.

In our counting system one comes before two, however two is bigger because it is twice one!

When, in fact, we speak of first and second, of being superior, better than, we have lost the plot; the plot is being in relationship, in intimacy and connectedness, and when a person is in a relationship the ideas of first and second, the idea of better than, the idea of superiority begin to dissolve.

So, I would like to posit for consideration the myth/story of the creation of the first persons is a story about complimentary energies, one masculine, one feminine.

These two energies working together in relationship.

The Russian philosopher Nicholas Berdyaev writes: [Man] is not only a sexual, but a bisexual being, combining the masculine and the feminine principle in himself in different proportions and often in fierce conflict.

A man in who the feminine principle was completely absent would be an abstract being, completely severed from the cosmic element.

A woman in whom the masculine principle was completely absent would not be a personality. (The Destiny of Man, NY Harper Torchbooks,  1960, p 61).

One of the most telling images of these complementary energies is in Rembrandt Von Rijn’s painting with the title The Return of the Prodigal Son.

It is an oil painting,  part of the collection of the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg.

It is among the Dutch master’s final works, likely completed within two years of his death in 1669.

When I spend time with the painting and look at the hands of the father on the shoulders of the kneeling son, I notice there is a distinct difference in the structure of each hand.

The father’s left hand (right hand when viewing the image) touching the son’s shoulder is strong and muscular.

The fingers are spread out and cover a large part of the son’s shoulder and back. How different is the father’s right hand (left when viewing the image).

This hand does not hold or grasp.

Rather, it appears to be laid gently, almost a caress.

It is refined, soft, and very tender. It is a mother’s hand.

The caressing “feminine” hand of the father parallels the bare, wounded foot of the son, while the strong “masculine” hand parallels the foot dressed in a sandal.

Is it too much to think that the one hand protects the vulnerable side of the son, while the other reinforces the son’s strength and desire to get on with his life.

Has Rembrandt used his own experience of God in creating this masterpiece?

Has Rembrandt experienced the strong supportive presence of the “masculine” God, and also the gentle comforting caress of the “feminine” God?

Of course only Rembrandt can answer those questions when asked of him; however they may also be asked of you, and then, only you can answer!