Earlier in Advent I posted about following Jesus "in His steps". A few more ideas have come up since then, so here are some further reflections.
Of course, while I was watching this project unfold, especially as the diggers and their drivers teetered on the cliff to dig down through the schist, the parable told by Jesus came to mind:
The story is about two builders, one who took a shortcut on the foundations and one who made sure he built on bedrock. We may think the principle is obvious, that no-one would build on sand, but, in fact, all over the world there are communities built on shaky foundations. The flood plains of Bangla Desh, for example, look flat and inviting, but those who build there find that when the rains come, their homes can be washed away. In the northern part of South Africa there was a dry riverbed that looked like a good open space to build; there had been no water there for decades and over time a whole village was built there. But one year a storm came, the place was flooded, and eight hundred people drowned. Of course, these builders are people in poverty, we in the developed nations would never make such shortsighted decisions – or would we? We would never build over a fault line or on unstable clay hillside? The San Francisco earthquake and the Aberfan slip tell us otherwise. And in NZ this last year we have faced so many devastating floods, the word unprecedented has become banal.
In Sunday School, we often took the meaning of this story to be about being wise not foolish in a generic sense, but Jesus’ words are more specific than that. This is about hearing and doing what God – in Jesus - asks.
Jesus of course was an expert in building; the Greek word (tekton) for his craft meant not just a carpenter, but a specialist in stone as well as wood. He knew all about the building of houses, and when he spoke about the foundations of a house, he knew what he was on about. In Palestine, there are gullies which in summer look like a pleasant sandy hollow, but which in winter become a raging torrent of rushing water. They are called wadis, and some of you may have seen them leading down the cliffs of the Dead Sea. They are deep crevices in the sand, as dry as bones, with not a leaf or stem of green to be seen. But the sign by the edge of the road says “caution flooding!” I’m told that nearly all of Israel’s annual rainfall falls over a period of a few weeks in December, and that is when those wadis carved out of the hillside fill up deep and dangerous. Jesus knew that a shortsighted builder might choose a sandy wadi for his home – but find it washed away when winter came. He called such expediency foolish – and commended those who took the time to build on rock.
Because if you want to build on rock, it does take time. The Queenstown tradies found that out. You have to excavate, make sure that there is rock there to begin with. Then you have to dig down and lay a foundation on that rock, so that everything will stand. And that takes extra work; you have to work a little bit harder and do a little bit more, to make sure that your building is secure. The foolish builder is not concerned with the foundation. He doesn’t think about what’s under the ground. He’s only interested in expediency.
Its no accident that Jesus here uses the metaphor of rock for the teachings he gave us to follow. Rock was a long established symbol in the Hebrew religion, an image of the steadfast character of God and his reliability and dependability. Jesus is saying, if you follow my teaching you will be relying on the firm foundation of God himself, the one who provides stability and strength, even when the storms of life threaten to unsettle us. Twenty years ago, I preached a sermon called Rock Solid, using this parable and various Psalms that utilise this metaphor and variations of it. My three points were:
• The Miry Clay of Unbridled Self,
• the Echoey Pit of Recycled Pain,
• and the Slippery Slope of Entertaining the Invisible Enemy.
They sound somewhat pretentious now, but these images evoked a soft alternative, describing the temptation to build on something different from the sure foundation we find in God. And I can recognise the examples I used to illustrate these alternatives to a solid foundation as events that had happened that year in my own faith life or that of members of our congregation. (I might make use of that still-relevant message in a blogpost in the New Year). But in some ways, I missed the point of the parable. I wonder if Jesus was not so much teaching about the reliability of God, which was well known to the listeners, but about the sure foundation of human trust and hope that it takes to obey, to do the will of God.
This ties in with our thoughts about Following in the Steps of Jesus in the last post. The way of wisdom is not just to hear or even know the teachings of Jesus, it is to implement them. The Lord’s Prayer spells out some ways of investing in this - by honouring our God in prayer and worship, by trusting for our basic needs, by sharing with him not only our own repentance but the responsibility to forgive others, by noticing when temptation appears and so avoiding opportunities to sin, and by naming evil when it threatens to takes us by the throat. Most of all, to do what we can, in the Way of Jesus, to implement the Kingdom (reign of God) so God's will can be done in our lives and our community. This, for followers of Jesus, is the way of wisdom not foolishness.
In my Pray as You Go (British Jesuit) devotions this month, this parable of the two builders was the set reading on Saint Ambrose’ Day, December 7th. Ambrose lived in fourth century Italy and served as Bishop of Milan for over twenty years, after having been elected by popular acclaim when he was in his twenties. He was a deep thinker with a practical spirituality, advocating for justice and generosity, and well-known for offering hospitality. For Ambrose “giving to the poor was not to be considered an act of generosity towards the fringes of society but a repayment of resources that God had originally bestowed on everyone equally and that the rich had usurped,” (Wikipedia).
In relation to the two ways of building in Matthew 7, Ambrose said
when we speak about virtue, we are speaking of Christ."
In the parable, Jesus encourages his listeners to seek both wisdom and virtue. He reminds them that claims of faith are not enough without a life lived in faith (see James 2: 14 – 18, about showing faith in our good deeds).
Like the wise builder, said the devotional notes, we are called to a life that is rooted in love, compassion and obedience to the Father's will. That life is the sure foundation, shaped by human Faith and expressed in godly Wisdom. In living this Way, we find confidence and consolation. Then when the storms of life come, when we feel like our foundations have been pulled from under us, trust expressed in daily obedience can sustain us. “This is a teaching, not a threat” said the writer. We are called, not bullied, to do the will of the Father. And Wisdom is what the Spirit grows in us as we trust and obey.
The Advent season gives us time for both reflection and action; it's an opportunity to renew our commitment to living out gospel values in our daily lives. To follow in his steps is a matter of both wisdom and virtue.
Blogger David Schell offers a rewrite of the old Christian song Trust and Obey (for his reasons for rewriting, read the post).
I like the change of emphasis but what do you think? How are you living out ‘Trust and Obey?’
Comments
Post a Comment