Ambassadors in Chains ... moving mountains

Morning worship – 26 August 2012 led by the Rev Dr Graham Adams

Readings: Zechariah 9: 12, Ephesians 6: 18-20, Mark 11: 12-24

Reflection 1: Ambassadors in chains

I love the phrase that Paul uses at the end of that passage – about him being an ‘ambassador in chains’. (or in the GNB: ‘an ambassador … in prison’)

In his case there was something very literal about it, being that he was in prison,

but as our opening words from the prophet Zechariah reminded us,

there’s a sense in which we are all ‘prisoners of hope’

as well as ‘ambassadors in chains’:

because we have our dreams, our goals, the things we long to see happen,

but things hold us back – we remain prisoners, restricted by certain chains,

whether physical limitations, or lack of self-esteem, or money, or Olympic skill -

so even if we see ourselves as a potential world champion at javelin-throwing

we may know deep inside it will never happen … if we don’t have a javelin.

Life holds us back, and sometimes seems to squash our dreams.

It’s because of that sense of limitation that Paul asks for people’s prayers:

we too need each other’s prayers, and encouragement, and support, and love,

far more than we need each other’s criticism, and discouragement;

so although we need to know if we’re deluding ourselves about what we could do

most people suffer more from a lack of self-belief, so let us be encouraging.

But what about these chains? What might we achieve without them?

The Gospel story itself may have the opposite effect from the one it intends

if we focus so much on our inability to move mountains that we feel powerless;

so we need to recover the meaning here –

after all, I doubt when Jesus urged us never to have a doubt in our hearts,

I doubt he meant we should never doubt!

For elsewhere he praised those whose faith is only the size of a mustard seed,

so it’s not about the quantity of faith we have, or how strong we think we are,

but what our faith is directed towards.

In fact, I’m a big believer in doubting – it’s very healthy, it’s a sign of honesty,

and God is big enough to absorb all of our doubts;

so when Jesus urges us to have ‘no doubts in our hearts’, the context is specific:

he is presenting us with a choice, between two different ways of believing,

two different kinds of faith – one which produces unhealthy fruit, one good fruit;

one which ties us up with more & more chains; one which helps to set us free.

So which will we choose?

But before I expand on that, it’s worth noting that even though Paul was in chains

& even though many of us frequently feel inhibited, not quite fulfilling our goals,

still many amazing things are achieved – so the chains need not get the better of us!

In fact, we live in a world so attuned to the bad news, that we often overlook

all the many subtle ways in which even people who are desperately up against it

manage to bring about small  victories in the causes of justice and peace.

So let’s not lose sight of the courage of people, both far away & close to home,

as they dare to confront a predicament, persevere, & bring some good to fruition.

This happens on a global scale,

when campaigns set prisoners of conscience free, or empower those in poverty,

or companies or governments are held to account for their misbehaviour,

but also when people with illnesses or who suffer domestic violence or abuse

show unbelievable fortitude & resilience.

The human spirit can be amazing, whether people believe it is God-given or not,

and we should simply give thanks for the small acts of kindness,

the heroic bravery of people standing up for the rights and dignity of others,

or anything which shows us that, even though we are in chains in so many ways,

still much good & beauty & hope & healing can be achieved & often is.

We would do well, also, to recognise that when we think we are free

(because we like to think of ourselves as independent and self-sufficient),

even so we remain under the influence of subtle forces which shape our lives –

so none of us can ever achieve some kind of state of innocence, unsullied by it all:

for we do live with chains, we are part of structures and systems which do harm others,

we cannot pretend to stay aloof from it all;

in fact, rather than refusing to get our hands dirty in the real world,

we should accept that compromise & messiness are an inevitable part of things,

but even so we can still strive to make a difference – and every effort counts:

for even the greatest mountain becomes less formidable

when many join together to move it!

So, basically, don’t be disheartened by the scale of the challenges we face

or the risk of compromise - should we dare to get stuck in & get our hands dirty,

because although we remain ‘in chains’, as prisoners of hope, not entirely free,

or our actions not as pure as we’d like,

still we contribute to something better and we do make a difference

as ambassadors of a new world which begins to take shape

even in the shadow of the mountain itself.

Reflection 2: Moving Mountains

So what of the choice between two different ways of believing?

Remember, the context was specific:

Jesus had just undertaken his most direct attack on the Temple establishment yet

which most historians accept would have been the ultimate trigger for his arrest.

So this wasn’t just about clearing a space to have some quiet prayer –

it was a direct challenge to the whole system which the Temple represented:

namely the purity code, which taught that people were unclean because of sin

and that only the Temple could secure their forgiveness & make them clean,

but they had to pay, to make a sacrifice, which meant using the Temple currency

with an exchange rate which exploited them.

So the Temple was not only a religious institution but political and economic –

at the heart of the way of life of the people, which was about exclusion and exploitation,

and Jesus wasn’t the only Jewish teacher to see this, but he brought the issues together.

And he struck at the heart of it – in an act bravely designed strategically to cause trouble.

It’s with that in mind that we should read the conversations surrounding it:

first, the cursing of a barren fig-tree, surely a metaphor for the Temple –

a creation which was not bearing good fruit, but was morally withering instead,

as Mark’s account of those things shows us;

and secondly, the saying about having faith that can move mountains,

because the Temple, being on the mountain, was associated with the mountain,

so any talk of throwing this mountain into the sea was about throwing the Temple …

the sheer audacity of it! No wonder the authorities would want him dead.

The choice, then, becomes clear:

Have faith in God, Jesus says – not in the Temple, but directly in God.

Though the Temple claimed to speak for God, to act in God’s name,

Jesus undermined this claim, and opened up an alternative possibility:

The people would have been taught the inevitability of the Temple’s authority

and to doubt that anything else could speak for God.

But Jesus urged people not to doubt this! There was another way! Believe it!

Have faith in God – don’t doubt it – because the temple keeps you in chains;

but instead a kind of freedom is possible, which throws the Temple away,

and it makes all sorts of things possible which may feel unlikely …

We may not have the same Temple in our day, but other things have replaced it –

powers and structures and forces at work in our world

which make us doubt that alternatives are really possible,

which act as though they are ‘god’, supreme, beyond doubt, secure, eternal.

This is why institutions in the City of London must have loved being called

‘the masters of the universe’ by politicians,

and relished the free rein they were given, as many profited greatly from it too,

until the hollowness of their authority was exposed

and wider society bore the cost;

well-known media moguls also had their lengthy stint as supreme Temples;

but one by one, such Temples fall, mountains crumble –

so let’s not doubt it is possible to move these mountains, these temples,

to undermine their arrogance, and make the world better.

Have faith in God, not in any of these pretenders, these temples;

Have faith that even if we remain in chains, they need not have the last word,

because God continues to do new things…

I’ve been invited to a conference in Brazil, organised by the World Council of Churches and the Council for World Mission, with 70 theologians and economists coming together

to discuss the economic crisis and map out a better way of organising things

to put limits on the power of human greed.

An exciting opportunity – which reflects the word ‘crisis’, both a trauma

and an opportunity to be seized, and I believe this is a mountain-moving moment,

an opportunity for reform, if politicians can be persuaded to take it on our behalf,

to help shape the economy in a way which is less about exclusion and exploitation

and more about God’s House being, as Jesus proclaimed, ‘for all nations’.

So pray for the conference – and for all attempts to seize moments of crisis

to help reform our own Temples and work for a fairer, more just world.

So, for ourselves too, we’re faced with a choice today:

Whether to opt for the kind of faith which believes we’re better off

sticking with what we know;

we’re better off opting for the security which comes when we accept

that our chains are inevitable;

that the world cannot really be any different, things are as they always will be;

that we can never really flourish & others in our world will never flourish either…

Or should we choose a different way of believing – braver, riskier, but more alive?

Having faith in God, the living God whose love makes new things possible?

Daring to imagine that injustices, violence, brokenness can be overcome?

Because we see, as though through Jesus’ own eyes, that faith is about imagination –

daring to imagine, to dream, to envisage alternative, outrageous possibilities,

not to doubt that these temples or mountains might even yet be moved!

Dare we, even if our faith is as fragile as a mustard seed, or a fig tree,

envisage living as though our prayers are already answered:

that the mountains and temples and obstacles which stand in our way

may not be as overwhelming as they appear?

Dare we have faith in the God who helps us to move mountains?