Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Dog is OK, Beware of the Master

Recently I saw this amusing quote” Dog is OK , Beware of Master” outside a house. an interesting twist on the familiar quote “ Beware of Dog”. Then I came home to see CNN-IBN airing the story of pastors taking money from people and selling fake baptism certificates to people so that they could then apply for admission to Christian schools, presumably under the minority quota. I am waiting to see whet the reaction from the Christian community is. We Christians have a familiar bogey that we resort to when some one digs some dirt out of our closet. We hide behind our minority status and umbrella and shout ourselves hoarse that we are being persecuted.

Why am I relating this to the quote of the dog and the master ? Because the Christian pastor has a particular role to play in the affairs of his community. Priests of all religions are entrusted the duty of conducting the rituals that are associated with the rites of social passage be it the Hindu Pandit or a Muslim Maulavi. But a Christian pastor does all this and much more. The word pastor is itself derived from the Latin word for shepherd and has connotations of caring and leading and guiding the sheep who are supposed to be dumb and easily misled in the way of ethical and moral living and conduct.

Besides this , compared to the clergy of other faiths who some times demonstrate obscurantist tendencies , our Christian clergy present themselves as urbane, modern, progressive and comparatively well educated in the “modern, Western” sense. Their education does not happen in madrasas or gurukuls but in well equipped seminaries fitted with modern amenities and gadgets. All this , so that after their studies they be adequately equipped and fitted to take care of the dumb sheep in the shape of the congregation that they supposedly look after. That obviously isn't happening , no matter ho much learning the seminaries might be providing to those whom we deign to call church leaders.

If the congregation, comprised of “ordinary” people falls and sins, that is only to be expected. To quote the famous aphorism of “what is news” , if a dog bites a man , it is no news , for that is whet a dog is expected to do in any case. CNN -IBN wouldn't go around broadcasting on prime time , the story of two ordinary church members swindling some thing for a fast buck. That happens all the time , is to be condemned when it is discovered but is nothing more or less than a mirror to the society large. But when church leaders who mount the pulpit week after week and tell ordinary people , how they should lead their lives and waggle their fingers about persecution, minority rights, injustice and all manner of social inequity , it can only be termed a disgrace.

At another level, it really shouldn't be though. The Bible plainly teaches that the heart of all is wicked and that all have sinned and come short of God's standards – be it any body. In the Catholic tradition , even the Pope goes to confession and confesses his sins. It is really the common man, who by bowing and scraping before any cassock-ed figure or any body calling himself a Bishop or Elder or Pastor or Reverend makes him think that they are above the common ilk. This is a wake up call for the Christian common man and women to rediscover the reformation heritage of the priesthood of all professing believers and hold accountable the people they call”priest”. It is true after all. The dog might be OK, it is the master we might need to be beware of.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Living in the Wilderness

When the Bible first introduces David, he is a shepherd boy-young, unremarkable, unknown. He is called from the fields, as an afterthought it seems, and anointed for kingship. It isn't long before David's name is on the lips of every young woman in Israel and David's deeds are immortalized in song. He is the hero who defeated Goliath. Still a young man, David rises to high rank in the army and marries the King's daughter. Accounts of his exploits in battle against Israel's enemies circulate throughout the nation, each new tale of his bravery and skilfulness in battle exceeding the last. "Then David fled…" That's how chapter 20 begins. "Then David fled…" David's star plummets even faster than it rose. One day every pundit in Israel anticipates David being named King Saul's next chief of staff. The next day David is on the run-heading for the wilderness to escape King Saul's murderous wrath. For David, the next 8 or 10 years are wilderness years. Wilderness, in the Bible, is not about pleasant walks across meadows of wildflowers, with the sunshine pouring down, birds chirping, and bunnies hopping. Wilderness, in the Bible, is about crisis. Wilderness, in the Bible, is about stepping into the unknown, the future unpredictable and uncontrollable.

Wilderness, in the Bible, is about leaving behind the security of home and stepping into danger. Wilderness isn't always exactly the same. Frequently, wilderness is a place of darkness and temptation. Wilderness involves disconnection, disorientation, discomfort, disillusionment, disquiet, disappointment, distress. Wilderness is a place to get to know God deeper than ever before-because in the wilderness, we really need God. Wilderness is where there is a really possibility of despair. Wilderness is where hope is born-because where there is no risk of despair, there is no deep need for hope. Wilderness is where transformation happens. Incremental growth-that can happen when the waters are smooth. But transformation-real transformation that turns our lives upside down and sends us off in a new direction with new faith and new hope and new purpose; transformation that is about dying to self and being raised to new life-that happens when the waters are choppy. Most of us resist being changed; we only let it happen when we have to. Wilderness is where God does some of his best work. Ten chapters of 1 Samuel, at least, are devoted to David's wilderness years. David enters the wilderness a young man on the run. David comes out the other side a man poised to lead the chosen people of God. Wilderness is where you learn that you can't run so fast that God can't find you. Wilderness is where you learn that you can't fall so far that God can't catch you.

Everybody's wilderness experience is different. The way God is at work is different. There is no uniform pattern. Nevertheless, David's story is informative. There are four wilderness growing edges from David's story that we can mention. 1) David learned some important lessons about himself. 2) David learned something about choosing friends. 3) David learned a little something about grace…and about extending grace. 4) David was schooled in the language of lament (or prayer of honest complaint). Wilderness can be a place to learn what we most need to learn about ourselves. For lots of people, that means learning that they are far more resilient and capable than they thought they were. For David, that meant learning that he wasn't quite as perfect as his recent successes might have tempted him to believe. In 1 Samuel 21. David has fled from Saul, and this time there is no going back. He left in a hurry. He had no time to pack, so he has no supplies with him. He doesn't even have a weapon with him. He makes up a story to maintain appearances. "I'm on the King's business," David tells Ahimelech. "I'm on a secret mission, which makes sense since I am so well-thought of by the King. And I'm not alone. My men are waiting just beyond the next hill. Why am I here seeking help? Well, you see, it's just that the secret mission is so urgent that we left without supplies. I even forgot my weapon. But that's just because the mission is so important. It has nothing to do with me being frightened or in trouble or anything.

How many here can identify with David's desire to keep up appearances- -even though his world is falling apart and he needs help? After leaving Ahimelech, David runs straight to the Philistines-the Philistines!!-looking for help. Achish is a Philistine king. David, desperate for someplace to hide from Saul, unwilling to reveal his desperation to his friends, looks for help among those who have sought his destruction. How many here can identify with David here? Why is it that when our world begins to crumble it can be so tempting to go looking for help from those who, in better times, we knew would only lead us to destruction? David, who was so careful to protect his dignity among his friends, resorts to drooling into his beard in front of his enemies. He just manages to convince the Philistine king that he is insane, so that he escapes with his life. David has one place left to go. He flees into the wilderness and hides in a cave. Both of these incidents occur at the beginning of David's wilderness years. There is another incident, later, that has an even more humbling effect on David.

While residing for awhile in the Desert of Moan, David and his men informally provided protection for the employees of a certain wealthy man named Nabal. The keepers of this man's sheep and goats spent a whole season out in the desert without fear of robbers because of David's protection. At the end of the season, David concluded that he and his men were due some compensation for their generous help, but Nabal didn't know David and had no intention of sharing with David. David fell into a rage at this snub. On impulse, he rallied his men and began to march toward Nabal's home. David had every intention of slaughtering the wealthy man and his entire household. Nabal was saved by some quick thinking by his wife, Abigail, who threw together a gift package and met David on the way. Abigail saved Nabal's life. She also saved David. David was saved from acting in the same type of impulsive murderous rage that motivated Saul. David was saved from letting a momentary lust for revenge ruin destroy his reputation for integrity and honour.

David was saved from dragging his anointing to be the next king of Israel through the mud. In the wilderness, David learned a lot about his own weaknesses, and David was humbled. Wilderness can be a place to learn what we most need to learn about ourselves. For lots of people, that means learning that they are far more resilient and capable than they thought they were. For David, that meant learning that he wasn't quite as perfect as his early successes might have tempted him to believe. Common wisdom suggests that wilderness is a good place to learn who your friends really are. Wilderness is also a good place to learn something about choosing friends. Back in the early days, after David left Ahimelech wondering what was really going on, and after David escaped from the Philistines with his life intact (though not his dignity), David fled into the wilderness-leaving behind his friends and his enemies. The new friends that David found in the wilderness weren't all that great to look at. They used rough language. They carried all they owned on their backs. Some were in distress. Some were in debt. Some were discontented. They were not the type of people that a famous warrior from the king's own court would be seen with. But they knew something about wilderness. They met David in the wilderness, and they befriended him there. Wilderness has a way, sometimes, of exposing surface judgments of people for what they are-surface judgments. Wilderness has a way, sometimes, of bringing us into relationship with people we never associated with before.

If we can, by God's grace, navigate the currents that steer us towards people who will lead to destruction, we just might learn something new about the sorts of people who will walk with us through the wilderness and support us along the way. In the wilderness, David learned a little bit about choosing friends. Another time, David and his men and their families live in a town called Ziklag. It is in Philistine territory, but it is the home base of David and his men. A time comes when David and his men march out of Ziklag, intending to go off to battle. Something comes up, however, and they are diverted from the battle they intended to participate in. They head home to Ziklag early. When they get to Ziklag, they find that tragedy and terror have struck while they were away. Raiders came into Ziklag and carried off all the plunder they could carry. Worse than that, they carried off all the women and children-all the families-of David and his men. In the midst of mourning and recrimination, David rallies his men. Within a short time of arriving home, they are back on the march, determined to find the raiders and rescue their families. It turns out that this forced march-on top of their recent long hike out and back-is too much for some of the men.

At a certain point, about a third of the men are left behind with the supplies, and the rest of the men continue the chase. Eventually, David and his men catch up with the raiders. They defeat them. They rescue their wives and children. They retrieve the things that had been stolen from them. And they retrieve a whole lot more. They head back to Ziklag, flushed with victory and overflowing with plunder of their own. On the way back, they meet up again with the men who had stayed behind. Some of the men who had gone the whole way argue that the plunder should not be shared with those who stayed behind. David has another idea. "All will share alike" whether they stayed with the supplies or went all the way. Somewhere in the wilderness, David learned about grace…and extending grace to others. Last, but not least, in the wilderness, David was schooled the language of lament.

Lament is the art of prayerful complaint. Lament is crying out to God with total honesty about the reality of wilderness…about the crisis of wilderness…about the unpredictability and uncontrollability of wilderness…about the danger of wilderness. Lament is the art of prayerful complaint. In the wilderness, David was schooled in the language of lament. In the wilderness, David experienced disconnection, disorientation, discomfort, disillusionment, disquiet, disappointment, distress. In the wilderness, David encountered the real possibility of despair. David brought it all before God. It is generally understood that Psalm 57 is associated with David's flight from Saul.Even a quick scan of the Psalms of David makes clear that David was not hesitant to bring every bit of the crisis of wilderness to God with honest words and honest emotion. One of the reasons, David was so good at writing the language of praise was that he knew the language of lament. We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our wilderness experiences, because we know that wilderness trekking produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given to us.

God of All People

As a Christian development professional, one of the most notable characteristics of Jesus that always strikes me is the fact that he paid special attention to the outcasts of his society. Most people feared the lepers and insisted that they stay far away from them and announce their presence by shouting, "Unclean! Unclean!" But Jesus welcomed them and even touched them. While most people hated the tax collectors, Jesus invited Matthew to be one of the twelve disciples and stopped a parade under Zacchaeus' tree so that he could go have dinner at his house. While everyone looked down upon the prostitutes, Jesus welcomed them and cared for them. When the woman was taken in the act of adultery and all the religious leaders stood in a circle around her pointing condemning fingers at her, Jesus looked on her with compassion and said, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." Everywhere we turn in the New Testament, we find Jesus looking for the outcasts of society and welcoming them into his presence. And Jesus is always easier on those who have fallen into sin than he was on those filled with pride and eager to condemn those with sins more visible than theirs.

Our impression of the Old Testament usually is that God was busy selecting the people of Israel as his chosen and special ones, and rejecting everybody else. We almost get the picture of a fraternity-God who blacklists certain people and tribes just because they were not the Chosen Ones. Cain's offering is not accepted, but Abel's is. Lot's wife was turned into a pillar of salt just because she looked back at Sodom. Noah and his family were exclusively selected to survive the great flood. Israel was chosen but not the other tribes of the world. Isaac was chosen but not Ishmael. But while God may have had a chosen people and his preferred plan, God is also the God of the outcasts.

Hagar is an Egyptian slave girl who is chosen like a brood mare and given to Abraham so that she can provide barren Sarah with a child by proxy. Today with modern technology, people attempt the same kinds of thing by using artificial insemination and surrogate mothers. Many of today's stories turn out just as complicated as this one does. It's an ugly scene. Neither Sarah nor Abraham come off as the noble characters we like to make them out to be. Instead, they seem a lot like us - impatient with God. At Sarah's suggestion, they decide to take the inheritance matter into their own hand. God had promised descendants, but none were forthcoming. So Sarah sends Hagar, her handmaid, in to lie with Abraham and produce an offspring.

Like most of our mistakes, it must have seemed like a good idea at the time. But the consequences erupted out of control. We have to speculate a bit to understand the true complications of the relationships. Abraham might have enjoyed Hagar's presence just a little too much. Sarah becomes an outraged, jealous wife. Hagar lets her fertility go to her head and starts making snide remarks about Sarah's infertility. Every time Abraham dotes on his only son, Ishmael, Sarah fumes with jealousy. Finally, in their old age, God grants a child to Sarah, the one she names Isaac, which means "laughter."

Instead of easing the complicated relationships, they get worse. One day the whole sordid matter came to a fiery head when Sarah observes Ishmael playing with the much younger Isaac. I prefer to interpret this act as innocent playfulness, but some scholars have looked carefully at the Hebrew language and Sarah's extreme reaction and concluded that there was sexual misconduct between the teenaged Ishmael and the preschool-aged Isaac. Whatever happened, Sarah saw Ishmael as Isaac's competitor for the promises of God. And suddenly, she insisted that Abraham send Hagar and Ishmael out into the desert. Sarah's disdain for the slave girl is shown in the fact that she never refers to Ishmael or to Hagar by name. She says, "Banish the son of this slave girl." Sarah refers both to Ishmael and to Hagar only by social status.
Abraham was understandably hesitant.
Like any parent, he loved both his sons, and he probably cared deeply for Hagar as well. But Abraham finally relents when he gets a special word from God that Hagar and Ishmael will be taken care of by God. Hagar and Ishmael are sent forth to wander in the wilderness of Beer-sheba until their meagre provisions are exhausted. Racked with thirst, she casts her child under a bush and sits down a bowshot away so that she will not see him die. And here God shows that he is not only with the Isaac/Israel lineage. God demonstrates his Divine care and mercy for those who are outside the special Covenant relation in two ways.

First, the angel of God informs Hagar that God has heard the child's cry, and that she should arise and take the child's hand, for "I will make him a great nation" (21:18). And secondly, Hagar's eyes are opened so that she sees a well of water nearby from which she and her child may drink. Ishmael grows up under divine protection, becomes an expert bowman, marries an Egyptian woman, has twelve children and becomes the father of a great nation himself just as God promised. Ultimately all of those who follow Islam would trace their heritage back to Abraham through Ishmael.
This is a heart-wrenching story because it's our story. When we read it, we find ourselves holding on to our chairs, trying not to run away. We realize it's not just about our ancestors; it's about the mixed family that so many of us experience now - first wife, second wife, surrogate parenthood, children, and conflict. This story rings with a contemporary flavour with blended families who talk about "your children," "my children," and "our children." Poor Hagar may have been the first to have to make a special name for the man who should have been simply her husband. Like so many today she makes reference to "the father of my children." Here we find what was perhaps the first single mother thrown out to survive on her own. It's the story of a boy who becomes alienated from his father. Yes, it's a painfully modern story.

Sometimes the details of the stories we are discussing from Genesis sound like pulp fiction. In this one we come to the first triangle: Two women share the bed of the same man. The squabbling gets mean. Everybody gets hurt. The stuff of a cheap novel and a fast read. But peel back the layers and the Bible is Tolstoy, Shakespeare, and Faulkner. The themes in this story are deep and painful - a woman's infertility, surrogate motherhood, class differences, and the price human beings pay for God's will to be done. And something else: This triangle does set off fireworks and by the dawn's early light Judaism and Islam goes their separate ways." Because it is our story, there is probably someone here saying, "I don't feel chosen; I feel rejected, lost, bereft; I identify with this poor forsaken woman and her tears and her dying child?"

That's why the text suddenly takes this detour, leaving the history of the chosen ones to follow the lost and the outcasts. The God who chose the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is also the God of all the tribes and peoples of the earth. The God who saw the burdens and heard the cries of the Hebrew slaves in Egypt, the God who came down to save them with a mighty hand, is the same God who sees the outcast child under the bush in the desert, hears his mother weeping, and tenderly brings them to water and promises that they too are highly regarded by God.

The message is not just about nations and tribes; it's about people, about individuals, about us. When all have forsaken and forgotten us, when life has passed us by and all around us is a desert, and our dreams are over there dying under a bush. That's when we need to remember this old story. We need to know that God sees the tears of an outcast woman and an abandoned child. We need to know that God hears us even when we feel godforsaken.