Lazarus

 

Unbind him,
and let him go;
release her from her bonds.
Let them be quickened,
let them be free.
Liberate them from the bands,
the baleful bands of delusion,
the cords of despair
and graveclothes of fear.
Take the stone away;
let loose the morning’s hopeful light
to chase the shadows from the cave.
Allow sweet birdsong
and the gentle sounds of spirit breeze
to find voice in the previously silent recesses;
so that we who have been dead
might hear the callings of the living,
and, glimpsing some of the possibilities of resurrection,
consider leaving our tomb.

© Ken Rookes 2014

The Myth of the cave

The Fourth Gospel's stark contrast of appearances and reality, true and erroneous opinion, light and darkness, is often seen as a result of Greek and Gnostic influences. But such contrasts are not limited to this Gospel, nor are they a theme of the Greeks alone.

The story of the blind man does, however, ring a bell for anyone who has ever read "The Myth of the Cave" in Plato's Republic. There we find a story of all humanity chained in a darkened cave throughout life. These captives can see nothing but flickering images on a wall—shadows, appearances, illusions—which they take for reality. One prisoner, liberated from the chains, makes the arduous crawl upward to the world of the shining sun. When he returns to the cave with his tales of the new-found source of light and the life and warmth it gives, the prisoners think him crazy. They simply deny his experience. It just can't be. The chains and the amusing images on the wall are reality. Thus his conversion is ridiculed; his invitation is resisted.


http://liturgy.slu.edu/4LentA033014/theword_embodied.html

spittites and non-spittites

     It has been suggested that the origins of denominations occurred when the healed blind men met each other. At first they were all excited about the miracle of sight that Jesus had given them, but as they talked about how Jesus had healed them, they began to discover some significant differences. For some, the healing came with simply a touch from Jesus (Mt 9:29; 20:34). Another proudly boasted that he had enough faith so that Jesus didn't have to touch him to perform the miracle (Mk 10:52). Another meekly exclaimed that Jesus not only touched him twice, but also "spit on his eyes" in order for him to see clearly (Mk 8:23). The final one really felt embarrassed to admit that even though a touch wasn't part of his healing, Jesus' "spit" wasn't enough. Jesus had mixed his saliva with dirt and put the mud on his eyes and then told him to go and wash in some pool of water (Jn 9:6-7). Since each one thought his healing was normal and better than the others, they divided into spittites and non-spittites; muddites and non-muddites; touchites and non-touchites. Denominationalism was born.

Brian Stoffregen

They drove him out

 

They drove him out of the Temple;
the unnamed man, who,
according to John, had been born blind.
Now, with the wondrous gift of sight,
he could not be less concerned;
he has no desire to ever go back,
and he won’t.
The Temple no longer has what he needs;
he will manage without it. In turn,
the Temple will have to get on without him;
and all the others, who,
over the millennia,
have been dismissed from its hallowed courts.
The Temple has been adept
at expelling embarrassments;
those who no longer recite the creeds,
who ask their awkward questions
and dare to give shape to their doubts.
Preferring the elusive uncertainty of truth,
whatever its unexpected contours,
they despise the Temple’s promise
of security and comfort.
They would rather die outside the walls
than live the delusions within.
Do your worst, Temple;
drive them all out.
Nobody cares
anymore.

© Ken Rookes 2014

seeing and not seeing

A man who had been held in solitary confinement for 29 years spoke of how his eyes had adjusted to looking no further than the length of his cell. When he was released, it took many months for his eyes to begin to see further than a few metres.

Chris had been out with his mates for a drive. He commented later how they had teased him because he was continually drawing their attention to things he saw along the way. “I thought everybody noticed things, but they don’t.” he said, disappointed for his friends that they missed so much.

In the story from John 9, we have a number of different forms of seeing and not seeing. Jesus saw a man who was unable to see, because he had been born blind. The disciples, with their question about who had sinned had a blinkered view of the causes of blindness. The Pharisees, with biased religious views, were upset that the man had been given his sight on a Sabbath day. They were blind to the ways of God. The neighbours didn’t know if they could trust what they were now seeing because he looked quite different to them as a sighted person.

We are probably not physically blind, but many of us have had our sight restricted by walls built to protect our religious views. We may find it hard to see beyond the boundaries of our Biblical understandings. No  one may have pointed other insights out to us or encouraged us to look further.

Brother Pinto says that if the way we see God now is the same as the way we saw God five years ago then our vision is severely limited and we haven’t been hearing God’s offer to open our eyes to the possibilities that are available to us. The good news in this is that God is willing to open our eyes, heal our blindness and help us to adjust to new visions of ourselves, others and God. May you be blessed with a clearer vision of God, others and yourself and many new insights.

(Rev Julianne Parker) (for full sermon see sermon page above)

Julianne's ponderings

The fountain

The Fountain

Don't say, don't say there is no water
to solace the dryness at our hearts.
I have seen
the fountain springing out of the rock wall
and you drinking there. And I too
before your eyes
found footholds and climbed
to drink the cool water.
The woman of that place, shading her eyes,
frowned as she watched -- but not because
she grudged the water,
only because she was waiting
to see we drank our fill and were
refreshed.
Don't say, don't say there is no water.
That fountain is there among its scalloped
green and gray stones,
it is still there and always there
with its quiet song and strange power
to spring in us,
up and out through the rock.

Denise Levertov 1923 - 1997 
Poems: 1960-1967

living water?

I'm not sure they're referring to Jesus here, but i thought it was interesting.

samaritan woman at the well, sixth century mosaic

a mosaic from the sixth century.

I think all of us at some point in our lives have someone—maybe our parents, a teacher, a certain group—someone we wanted so much to just love us as we were. We want someone who knows everything about us, all the good stuff and all the bad stuff, and who still wants us anyway.

Sometimes our world tell us: She’s too Black, he’s too White, they’re too conservative, they’re too liberal, you’re too old, too young, too dark, too different, you’re not holy enough, you’re divorced, you’re gay, you got pregnant, you messed up. Whatever you are, you are NOT ENOUGH.

Today, Christ says, enough! Enough of all of this fear, enough of all these barriers we’ve created. We have work to do, and we can’t do it if we’re divided.

In the Gospel, Jesus doesn’t care about barriers, or rules, or laws if they are meant to separate us. He doesn’t care about tradition if it’s meant to put other people down. In today’s story, all Jesus cared about was the Samaritan woman and her people. In those few moments, he showed her by his words and his actions that no matter what she thought, no matter what society thought, and no matter what the law thought, in his eyes she was enough.

image from 4C roman catacombs - notice no beard on JC
http://www.teamrcia.com/2011/03/enough%E2%80%94a-scrutiny-homily-for-the-woman-at-the-well/

At Sychar

 

At Sychar the ancient well,
said to have been dug by Jacob himself,
continues its unfailing work;
storing the generosity of the even older spring
in its cool, dark pool.
Deep below the sun-bleached rocks,
it holds enough water
to deliver its aqueous life
to inhabitants of the Samaritan village,
and to all who come looking;
provided they have a bucket
and sufficient length of rope.
Lacking such basics,
the travelling man from the north,
thirsty from his journey,
makes his famous request
of a woman who came to fill her empty jar.
A spirited conversation bubbles up.
From earnest banter it spills out
into life’s exponential invitation;
to fashion a bucket,
to twist a rope,
and to delve deeply within.

© Ken Rookes 2014