Sunday, 28 August 2016

"Jesus said to her, Mary."

“Jesus said to her, Mary.”
John 20:16

“I have never had a good idea in my life but I recognize one when I hear it.” I have no idea who said this but it resonates as true with me! So, with that encouragement, I am going to offer a few thoughts from Tim Keller as written in his book, “Encounters with Jesus.”

First, let’s read the text from John 20:11-18

“11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; 12and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. 13They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ 14When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ 16Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher). 17Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”  18Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.”

What follows is written by Tim Keller (I highly recommend the book!)

“Here is perhaps the main point of the New Testament in narrative form.

At the outset, you can see the remarkable tenderness of this interaction. There are several places in the Old Testament where God confronts people who are seriously mistaken or wayward, doing so not with intimidating declarations but with gentle, probing questions.  In the Garden of Eden, God asks disobedient Adam and Eve, “Where are you?” and “How did you come to feel shame?” To the rebellious prophet Jonah God asks, “Are you right to be angry?” Counselors know that it is not enough to simply tell people how to live. Asking questions helps the person to recognize their errors, to discover and embrace truth from their hearts. The questions of Jesus are similar. “Why are you crying?” is really a gentle rebuke to Mary, a wakeup call. “Who is it you are looking for?” is a more penetrating invitation to, as commentator D.A. Carson writes on this verse, “widen her horizons and to recognize that, grand as her devotion to him was, her estimate of his was still far too small.”

Notice, however, that Mary misinterprets Jesus’ questions. She thinks perhaps he is the caretaker of the place that that may know where Jesus’ body had been moved. So Jesus makes another effort to break through to her heart, and does it with a simple word. Earlier in this gospel, Jesus said that he was the Good Shepherd, that he “calls his own sheep by name” and “his sheep follow him because they know his voice.” And that is what he does here, simply saying, “Mary.” Real faith is always personal. If you only believe that Jesus dies to forgive people in general for their sins – but you don’t believe that Jesus died for you – you aren’t taking hold of Jesus by faith. You haven’t heard him call you by name.

The graciousness of Jesus of palpable. Mary is running around frantically but (as he hints) she’s looking for the wrong Jesus. For a dead Jesus. For a Jesus infinitely less great than he really is. So she would never have found him unless he sought her. He comes to her, gently works to open her heart, and then breaks through with a personal address. Her faith comes by grace – she doesn’t earn it.

But we learn even more here about the relationship of grace and faith. At the moment Mary realizes Jesus is alive, he sends her with the message “Go to my brothers and tell them…” – and in a sense she become the first Christian. Why? Well, what’s a Christian? A Christian has had an encounter with that risen Christ. And at this moment Mary is the only person in the world of whom those things are true.

Now, is this an accident? I don’t believe so. Jesus could have easily arranged to make anyone the first messenger. He chose her. And that means Jesus Christ specifically chose a woman, not a man; chose a reformed mental patient, not a pillar of the community; chose one of the support team, not one of the leaders, to be the first Christian. How much clearer can he be? He is saying, “It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done. My salvation is not based on pedigree, it’s not based on moral attainments, raw talent, level of effort, or track record. I have come not to call those who are strong, but to call those who are weak. And I am not mainly your teacher but your savior. I’m here to save you not by your work, but by my work.” And the minute you see yourself in Mary Magdalene’s place, something will change forever in you. You’ll be following the first Christian.

You see, the text is not just telling us that grace is the cause of our faith, but it is the content, too. If you believe that Jesus was a great teacher and you believe he can help you and answer your prayers if you live according to his ethical prescriptions, you are not yet a Christian. That’s general belief but not saving faith. Real Christian faith believes that Jesus saves us through his death and resurrection so we can be accepted by sheer grace. That’s the gospel – that good news that we are saved by the work of Christ through grace.” (Tim Keller, “Encounters with Jesus” Penguin, 2016)

The Catechism says this, “Faith is a gift from God, a supernatural virtue infused by him…. Believing is possible only by grace and the interior helps of the Holy Spirit. But it is no less true that believing is an authentically human act. Trusting in God and cleaving to the truths he has revealed is contrary neither to human freedom nor to human reason.” (CCC  153 -154)


“Faith seeks understanding”. It is intrinsic to faith that a believer desires to know better the One in whom he has put his faith and to understand better what He has revealed; a more penetrating knowledge will in turn call forth a greater faith, increasingly set afire by love.” (CCC 158)

Saturday, 20 August 2016

A Heart of Stone

“I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” – Ezekiel 36:26

As a chaplain to federal offenders my ears hear many stories of brokenness, pain…and hope.

My mind processes much of this information based on my experience. My experience is informed by myriad factors such as cultural context, family, education, etc…

My heart processes much of this information and experience based not only on the processes of my mind but seemingly by something that, based solely on my experience, is malleable and yes, even drastically changeable. These changes seem to well up inside me from a place I can comfortably describe as my spirit; that part of me which yearns to be in union with the very essence of unity itself. I sense this source of unity as embrace, love, peace, abundance and freedom.

Thomas Merton put it this way, “Living is the constant adjustment of thought to life and life to thought in such a way that we are always growing, always experiencing new things in the old and old things in the new.”

As a sailor this reminds me of the constant trimming of sails and subtle heading changes (and sometime tacks and jibes) to get where you desire to go.

In the book of Revelation 21:5 it is written, “Behold, I am making all things new” as Paul encourages us in his letter to the Philippians to set our minds on higher things, noble things, pure things, holy things, honourable things, commendable things.

I did not always live out of this place of oneness; this place of freedom. I chose through rightly or wrongly ordered desires (insert much debate here), to make decisions based on something that has changed in my spirit, my heart and my mind. It is interesting to me that I no longer desire things that I once desired; I no longer fear that which I once feared. On a personal level these inner changes in my psyche interest me as a sort of self-study. I don’t want to make too much of it but, likewise, I don’t want to pretend that it isn’t true. There has been a stirring deep within me for many years and the more I trust it the more whole I feel.

So, when I hear others reflect on similar themes I am intrigued. Recently in a group session with federal offenders a man attempted to describe how he had felt “nothing” inside. He struggled to put words to the emptiness that he felt before going into prison. He could not use an emotion to describe this emptiness or a facial expression to capture how the feeling might look if projected onto a human face. It was a void, he said, “incapable of feeling”.

He went on to explain that a crack of light began to penetrate this deep void when he accepted the gravity of what he did. He had gotten to a place where he accepted responsibility for his crime. Yes, there were mitigating realities in his life that may have served him a handicap in good decision making but he seemed to fully accept that his decision to go down a path of criminal behaviour was his. He owned up to his responsibility in this. His total responsibility.  With this acceptance of responsibility he began to understand that not only what he did was wrong but that it created victims. He caused people considerable pain. He described this moment (after a year of therapy, prayer, meditation and self-examination) as the moment that he began to feel something in that pre-existing void. He felt guilty and even shameful that he had done this. He also began to feel empathy for all those who have suffered as a result of his past.

I may write later on the difference between guilt and shame. The former is a healthy response to past regret; the latter is never healthy and must be dealt with for a healthy redefinition of self-worth and healthy living. It is not healthy to have an identity built in shame.

He went on to describe his previous inner life, the void, like that of an empty rock quarry. Large boulders, no grass or trees; no sign of life whatsoever. After his accepted responsibility for what he did empathy for his victims seemed to open up the flood gates of emotion. The water of his tears seemed to drench the parch soil of the rock quarry that was his inner life, his heart. Large boulders began to crack open as grass and vegetation sprung up. His inner life began to transition from a void, a rock quarry, to a garden; from a stony void to a place of life.

Empathy was the path. It was there he realized the beauty of the other and the embrace that is still freely and lovingly offered to even him. He began to realize that he is worthy of love.

“I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” – Ezekiel 36:26