The Ethics of the Trinity
a sermon by
Bob Faser
Trinity Sunday, 19 June 2011
St. Andrew’s Uniting Church, Bacchus Marsh, Victoria

As I begin, I want to say something you may find rather surprising. The Bible doesn’t really say a lot about the Trinity. In fact, the Bible doesn’t really say anything about the Trinity. This shouldn’t be as surprising as it is. The idea of the Trinity did not really take shape until a few centuries after the New Testament was completed.

As a result, the people who compiled the lectionary had a hard job in finding scripture passages for Trinity Sunday each year in the three-year cycle. They tended to select passages such as today’s lessons, where references to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were mentioned together:
• Paul blessing the Corinthians in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit;
• Jesus teaching the disciples to baptise in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

This all teaches us an important lesson. While our Christian beliefs begin with the scriptures, they can never end there. Something as central to the Christian faith as the Trinity is not found in any significant way in the Bible. I’ll be very Wesleyan here and say that our beliefs as Christians are the result of the interaction of Scripture, our church traditions, our reason, and our varied experience.

Anyway, back to the Trinity, a classic depiction of the Trinity, an image that has been rediscovered by many Christians in recent decades, is found in an old Russian icon by Andrei Rublev: I have a copy of this icon over my desk. It’s on our communion table today. You can also see this icon on your service leaflets, and on the screen. Like many icons from the Orthodox tradition, Rublev’s icon is about two things:
• The first thing is the story in the book of Genesis of Abraham offering hospitality to three strangers, who announce the startling news that Sarah is to have a child in her old age.
• The second thing is the Trinity:

The connection between the story from Genesis and the Trinity sounds pretty far-fetched to us now, but that is how many Christians interpreted that passage at the time when Rublev painted his icon. It was a much less critical age than the one in which we live. In those days, many Christians regarded the three strangers in the Genesis story as a symbol of the Trinity.

Looking at this icon, some things may strike us.
• In the icon, there are three distinct figures sitting around the table, representing the three distinct identities of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
• Each figure has the same face as the others - a youthful face that can be the face of a person of either gender. The single face represents the one central reality of the living God.
• The three figures together form a circle, representing the profound unity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit within the living God.
• There is a fourth place at the table. The dynamic love of Father, Son and Holy Spirit within the living God draws the world, the worshipper, you and I, into the picture to share the banquet.
The love of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for each other overflows into a creative, self-sacrificing love for the world.

Now, thinking of this overflowing, creative, self-sacrificing love of Father, Son. and Holy Spirit, how does this help us in our lives to follow the ethics of the Trinity? I have three ideas I’d like to share.

1 Firstly, within the Christian Church, there are three main branches: Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Eastern Orthodox, a Trinity of Traditions, if you will. Can we say today, within the life of the Christian Church, that the love of Protestants, Catholics, and Orthodox for each other overflows into a creative, self-sacrificing love for the world? (We are doing a lot better in this regard than Christians did fifty years ago, but there is still a long way to go.)

The ethics of the Trinity pose a challenge to us, and to all Christians.

2. Secondly, within the wider people of God, we find further possibilities. One of the names of the Rublev icon is the Icon of the Hospitality of Abraham. There are the three Abrahamic faiths, the three faiths that trace their heritage back to Abraham’s journey of faith: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

We need to be cautious here. For both Jews and Muslims, the idea of the Trinity poses a real problem. Judaism and Islam are both much more radically monotheistic than Christianity.

But, using a bit of poetic license, we still can see a Trinity of Faiths. Can we say today, that the love of Christians, Jews, and Muslims for each other overflows into a creative, self-sacrificing love for the world? (If anything, it seems at the moment like a cruel joke to even suggest it.)

The ethics of the Trinity pose a challenge to us, and to each of the peoples of God.

3. Thirdly, how about something a little less “religious”. Here in Australia, we have a Trinity of Cultures:
• We have the indigenous people of Australia, the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, ancient custodians and stewards of this land, people for whom this land is profoundly sacred.
• We have the Anglo-Celtic “settler” culture: those who came from England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales, Cornwall, and other English-speaking lands (not to forget their descendants over the generations); bringing language, laws, and a range of institutions that have made up the dominant culture from 1788 through to the foreseeable future.
• We also have the migrant communities: those who in recent decades have come to this land bringing their skills, their cultures, their faiths, and their cuisines, who have enriched this land immeasurably, who have helped to make Australia a far better nation (even in the face of massive prejudice). Not the least of the ways they have enriched this land is seen in the fact that today in Australia you can get a decent cup of coffee in even the smallest country town.

In Australia, we have a Trinity of Cultures. Can we say that in contemporary Australia that the love of indigenous, settler, and migrant Australians for each other overflows into a creative, self-sacrificing love for the world?

The ethics of the Trinity pose a challenge to us, and to all Australians.

We worship God as Trinity
• God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit;
• God as Creator, Redeemer, and Giver of Life

In the life of God as Trinity, we have the image of the love of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for each other; love overflowing into a creative, self-sacrificing love for the world. In this image, God gives us both a word of challenge and a word of hope.

The word of challenge is that this overflowing love of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit calls us to participate in the ethics of the Trinity, with all its radical implications for us:
• for us as Christians, with our Trinity of Traditions;
• for us as part of the wider people of God, with our Trinity of Faiths;
• for us as Australians, with our Trinity of Cultures.

The word of hope is that this overflowing love of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit invites us to attend God’s Trinitarian party, to share God’s banquet of love

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Copyright: Robert J. Faser, 2011

“The Promise of Pentecost”
a sermon by Bob Faser
Pentecost (12 June 2011)
St. Andrew’s Uniting Church, Bacchus Marsh, Victoria

I want to tell a story that isn’t second-hand, but third-hand.

I heard this story from a friend of mine named Rex Hunt, not the football commentator but a retired Uniting Church minister. He was a colleague of mine in Hobart and later was the minister of my former congregation in Canberra.

Rex tells this story which he heard from a friend of his named William Bausch, a Catholic priest in the United States. William Bausch told of a time when a young child caught his attention at Mass. It’s a great Pentecost story. As Bausch tells it:

I was watching a small child who was turning around and smiling at everyone.

He wasn’t
• gurgling,
• spitting,
• humming,
• kicking,
• tearing the hymn book, or
• rummaging through his mother’s handbag.
He was just smiling.

Finally, his mother jerked him about, and in a stage whisper that could be heard during a high-school play, said: “Stop that grinning! You’re in church!”

With that she gave him a sharp and stinging slap on the legs.

And as the tears rolled down his cheek, she added: “That’s better,” and returned to her prayers.

William Bausch continued. . . .

Suddenly I was angry. It occurred to me the entire world is in tears, and if you’re not, then you’d better get with it.

We sing, “make a joyful noise unto the Lord’, while our faces reflect the sadness of one who has just buried a rich aunt who left everything to her pregnant canary.

I wanted to … [tell] this child with the tear-stained face … about my God,
• the happy God,
• the smiling God,
• the God who had to have a sense of humour to have created the likes of us.

I wanted to tell him that our God is an understanding God, who understands little children who turn around and smile in church. And even curious little children who rummage through their mother’s handbags.

I wanted to tell that little child that I too had received a few slaps on the legs for daring to smile in an otherwise solemn religious setting. By tradition, I suppose, one wears faith with the solemnity of a mourner, the mask of tragedy.

What a fool, I thought, this woman sitting next to the only sign of hope - the only miracle - left in our civilisation.

If that child couldn’t smile in church, where was there left to go?

End of William Bausch’s story.

We celebrate the Day of Pentecost, the celebration of the coming of the Holy Spirit to the disciples. At Pentecost, we celebrate the completion of Easter, the completion of the resurrection.
• At the first Easter, Jesus rose as an individual.
• At the first Christian Pentecost, Jesus rose as a community; Jesus rose as the church.

The Christian Church - with all its faults - is Christ’s resurrected Body today, living in the power of Christ’s Holy Spirit.

Pentecost is an opportunity we have each year to recognise the potential of what God calls us to be: Christ’s resurrected body in the world today; the real presence of the crucified-and-risen Christ:
• reaching out to the world with God’s love in Christ;
• modelling in our life together the divine multiculturalism of the Kingdom of God;
• combatting all those community-destroying Babels we find in our world today: the Babel of racism, the Babel of snobbery, the Babel of bigotry, the Babel of greed, the Babel of competing fundamentalisms (both religious and secular), and many other destructive Babels;
• being a community that expresses such exuberant joy in each other’s presence - and in God’s presence - that our neighbours just naturally assume we’ve been hitting the bottle a bit early in the day;
• being a setting in which a child can safely turn around and smile at an adult - and find the adult smiling back.

In these ways, and others, Pentecost is an opportunity we have each year to recognise the potential of what God calls us to be: Christ’s resurrected body in the world today; the real presence of the crucified-and-risen Christ.

This is the promise of Pentecost.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Copyright: Robert J. Faser, 2011

An Ecumenical Fantasy
a sermon by Bob Faser
St. Andrew’s Uniting Church, Bacchus Marsh, Victoria
5th June 2011

Jesus prayed to the Father for his disciples and, by extension, for all his followers in later centuries “… that they may be one, as we are one.” Given the reality of our diversity as the Christian Church today, how can we realise the unity that Jesus intended for the Church?

What would the Church’s life be like if each of our traditions could bring the best of our life together to the enrichment of the whole Body of Christ?

One possible answer can take a form that is a bit like some of the old jokes that make the rounds on cyberspace, like the one with the title “Heaven and Hell According to the European Union.” In this frequently e-mailed joke, usually originating in the UK, the European Union has just redefined Heaven and Hell, at least as far as Europe is concerned. Now, according to the EU, Heaven is where:
• all the police are Irish,
• all the lawyers and judges are English,
• all the politicians are Welsh,
• all the doctors are Scottish,
• all the engineers and mechanics are Scandinavian,
• all the bankers are Dutch,
• all the athletes are either Eastern Europeans or migrants from Africa or the Caribbean,
• all the comedians are Jewish,
• all the musicians are Austrian,
• all the cooks are either Italian or migrants from India,
• all the brewers are German, and
• all the winemakers are French.

C’est magnifique … wunderbar … good show, old boy!

Also, according to the EU, Hell is where:
• all the police are German,
• all the lawyers and judges are French,
• all the politicians are Austrian,
… and it continues in that vein, ending (given that these e-mails usually originate in the UK) with …
• all the comedians are Welsh,
• all the bankers are Irish,
• all the musicians are Scottish, and
• all the cooks are English.

Not so magnifique … not so wunderbar … not such a good show, old boy!

In the light of that old joke, what would the state of the Christian Church be if each one of our Christian traditions could bring the best of its life together to the enrichment of the whole Body of Christ. Let’s fantasise a bit. In my mind, it looks like this:

First of all, the Roman Catholics (being the largest single group of Christians) will have particular responsibility for two areas of the Church’s life, each highly important, for which they have a long tradition of excellence.
• One area is that of spirituality: spiritual direction, retreat leadership, and so on; teaching the whole of Christ’s people to pray: to pray deeply, reflectively, passionately and creatively.
• The second area is that of the practical, serving dimension of the Church’s ministry of compassion in the wider world: welfare agencies, social justice ministries, schools, hospitals, and the like. Despite the problems caused by a small number of unhinged individuals in our own day, the tradition of Christian compassion embodied in such people as Frederic Ozanam, Mary MacKillop, Father Damian, Mother Theresa, and many others can still be a source of Christ’s wholeness in a broken world.

In my ecumenical fantasy, other traditions will also work in their areas of excellence.
• The Anglican Communion will be in charge of the area that Anglicans do best: the Church’s public worship, so that all Christian worship may reflect the dignity, the beauty, and the elegance of traditional Anglican worship at its best.
• The Lutherans – who may not have invented congregational singing but who made it an important part of Christian worship, … who in past centuries gave the church many great hymns that Christians of all denominations still sing with enthusiasm today, … who gave the church and the wider world the music of Johann Sebastian Bach – of course the Lutherans must be in charge of the Church’s music.
• The Orthodox will have the job of making each physical space where Christians gather to worship a place of such beauty that any casual visitor may be moved to remark, as did some visitors to Orthodox worship over a thousand years ago: “We could not forget that beauty.”

With the various Protestant churches originating in the English-speaking world (the Uniting Church in Australia; similar churches in other countries such as Canada; Congregational, Methodist, and Presbyterian churches elsewhere; Baptists, Churches of Christ, and others) our contributions to this ecumenical fantasy could be seen not as distinct denominations, but in terms of the two broad traditions of faith and spirituality that co-exist within each of the various Protestant churches:
• Those who make up what is variously called the “mainstream”, “mainline”, “ecumenical”, “liberal”, or “progressive” strand within the Protestant churches, will get the task of preaching and teaching. This would include all teaching within the church, for everyone from little children to graduate theologians, and everyone in between, with the intent of encouraging serious (and accurate) biblical, theological, and ethical reflection among all Christians.
• Those who make up the “Evangelical” wing of the Protestant churches will be given the task of developing local congregations as warm, supportive fellowships, resembling an extended family. (And to help them out, the Anglicans and Lutherans will be asked to take charge of providing the liquid refreshments.)

My ecumenical fantasy also includes very important jobs for two denominations that traditionally have an ecumenical significance far in excess of their actual size:
• The Society of Friends – the Quakers - will take charge of the churches’ administration. This will have two main positive effects. On the one hand, this will rid the churches of all remnants of discrimination on the grounds of race, gender, or sexuality. On the other hand, this will also drastically reduce the level of official pomposity found in all our churches.
• And then The Salvation Army will take charge of the area it does best: fundraising and public relations.

To quote that noted Australian Greek Orthodox thinker, Con the Fruiterer, “Bewdiful”.

Jesus prayed to the Father for his disciples and, by extension, for all his followers in later centuries “… that they may be one, as we are one.” How can we today realise the unity that Jesus intended for the Church?

The sad reality is that we have inherited a Christian church that is divided. Some of us still remember the “bad old days”, when the church you attended at least partly determined such diverse things as:
• the jobs for which you applied,
• the politicians for whom you voted,
• the football team which you supported, and
• even the families with whom your family socialised.

Thankfully, those days are over. The worst of the evil sectarian attitudes of the “bad old days” are only present in a handful of diehards. But we have still inherited a Christian church that is sadly divided. The words of Jesus’ prayer remain a challenge to all Christians: “… that they may be one, as we are one.”

And a major part of this challenge is for each part of the Church to bring the best they can offer to enrich the life of the wider Church, be it Roman Catholic spirituality, Anglican liturgy, Lutheran hymns, Orthodox icons, or Baptist fellowship dinners. May each section of Christ’s body bring the best of its life together to enrich each other, in service to Jesus’ prayer “… that they may be one, as we are one.”

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Copyright: Robert J. Faser, 2011

From the catacombs … through Christendom … to the marketplace
a sermon by Bob Faser
29th May 2011
St. Andrew’s Uniting Church, Bacchus Marsh, Victoria

There was once a time when it was possible to speak about something called “Christendom”. Christendom referred to a state of mind in which the western society and culture as a whole saw itself as somehow “Christian”.

Christendom began when the Roman Emperor Constantine first gave official toleration to Christianity, and then later converted to Christianity himself and declared Christianity to be the official religion of the Empire. During the era of Christendom, the Christian faith claimed a whole range of privileges for itself from the wider society that it was not prepared to see other faiths enjoy.

Making Christianity the official faith of western society did not really make society more Christlike in its attitudes and practices. In many ways, this made western society far less Christlike in its attitudes and practices.

It was very difficult for Christians to have Christlike attitudes and behaviour toward other people during the time of Christendom. It was during the era of Christendom that Christians were involved in Crusades, Inquisitions, wars of religion, heresy trials, burning supposed witches at the stake, and such other atrocities. During the time of Christendom, many evil things were done in the name of Christianity.

This whole “Christendom” mentality became terminally ill on the 31st of October in 1517. On that day, Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to a church door in the city of Wittenberg, so beginning the Protestant Reformation. Having a variety of styles of Christianity co-existing within one culture eventually made that whole notion of Christendom permanently unsustainable.

In much of Europe, in nations such as France and Germany, Christendom ended many years ago, well before the oldest person here was born. In English-speaking countries, some Christians still persist in a “Christendom” mentality, but it’s no longer appropriate for our time.

I believe the end of Christendom is a good thing. Some people may bemoan the end of Christendom. Occasionally, you may hear people say, with a sense of loss and regret, that we no longer live in a “Christian society”. The reality, though, is that whenever a society, a culture, or a nation believed itself to be “a Christian society”, the authentic message of Jesus really had a much harder time getting through to the people living in that society, culture, or nation.

Whenever you hear someone say, “We no longer live in a Christian society,” the best response is “We never did. Such a thing as a ‘Christian society’ never existed.”

Christendom is no longer with us, and we are well rid of it. But, to hear some people talk about the alternatives, you may not be sure.

Some tell us that, since we are no longer in the era of Christendom, our attitudes as Christians toward our society need to return to the time before Christendom …. to the time before Constantine … to the time of persecution … to the time when Christians met for worship in hiding … to the time of the Catacombs.

And some Christians tell us that the church needs to be developing attitudes similar to the church prior to Constantine. These would urge us to develop what I call a “Catacomb mentality”. For example, they would have very strict rules about who is “In” and who is “Out” of the Christian faith. So (as a result) they’d be very pedantic about such things as whose babies the churches would baptise and what should (and should not) happen in a Christian funeral service, and so on.

But the Catacombs do not really correspond to the present reality of the Christian churches in western society.
• Sure, many of the privileges enjoyed by the churches during the Christendom era have ended.
• Sure, there is a growing level of strident public criticism of the Christian churches: sometimes with good reason, sometimes without.
• Sure, there is a growing level of sarcastic humour -mostly very juvenile humour - directed at Christian faith and practice.
But there is no active persecution of Christians in western society, not unless you have a really overactive imagination.

The Christendom era in western society in which Christianity was singled out for special privileges is over. (And I believe this is a good thing.) But there is no real sign that the Christendom era will be replaced in western society by a new Catacomb era in which Christianity will be singled out for active persecution.

The era of Christendom is not our reality. Neither is the era of the Catacombs. Neither the Christendom mentality nor the Catacomb mentality is a realistic attitude for Christians today to hold toward our culture.

Our present reality as the people of God is as participants in the marketplace of ideas. It is very similar to the story we hear in today’s lesson from the Acts of the Apostles.

Paul was in Athens, the great centre of classical Greek culture. He was on his own in Athens and he had a good look around. He visited the temples. He talked to people in the marketplace. He got a feel for the culture. And, while he did so, he shared his Christian faith.

Among many Christians today, Paul has a rather arrogant reputation, principally because of the way some of Paul’s more unfortunate statements – frequently statements made in Paul’s name by later writers - are overemphasised by a number of ultraconservative Christians today.

Despite his arrogant reputation today, Paul in Athens didn’t share his faith in an arrogant way, as if to say “I’ve got something that’s very important for you but, of course, you’ve got nothing to teach me”. Instead, Paul seemed to share his faith in a context of mutual learning and dialogue, as a participant in the marketplace of ideas.

First of all, he spent time discussing his faith with people of other beliefs who were serious about their beliefs. We’re told he discussed issues of faith with members of the Jewish community in the local synagogue. He also debated with the professional philosophers, the sort of philosophers for which Athens was famous, part of a tradition which earlier included such great names as Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. We’re told that these philosophers were from the Stoic and Epicurean schools of thought. These were big-time philosophers. Students today are still studying their work. Paul was talking with some people who were really serious about their beliefs.

But we also get the impression that some of the people he talked with may have been a bit less serious in their quest for truth. Paul also spoke with those looking for the latest novelties of thought. Luke tells us, with a bit of delicious irony, “Now all the Athenians and the foreigners living there would spend their time in nothing but telling or hearing something new.”
Perhaps there were a few of those in Athens who, like some people today, were developing an eclectic, eccentric, do-it-yourself, “New-Age” spirituality. And Paul spoke with them too, and spoke with them with respect.

When Paul was asked to explain himself to the Council, he spoke with respect for the local beliefs. He didn’t denounce – or even merely lampoon - the inadequacies of the people’s faith. Instead, he affirmed the sincerity of their spiritual longings. “Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way.” He tried to draw connections between the spiritual longings of the people and his Christian faith. He made a link between Jesus and the “unknown god” to whom he saw an altar dedicated.

Paul spoke to the people in terms of their own culture. Twice in his speech to the Council he quoted Greek poets:
• once when he affirmed that “In … [God] we live and move and have our being”;
• and once when he said, in regard to God, that “For we too are his offspring”.

These quotes were important in two ways.
• The quotes themselves proclaimed God who was not distant from people but who relates intimately with us all.
• In using the quotes, Paul made a connection between the Christian faith and the existing culture of the people.

Paul’s behaviour in Athens is a good example for our situation today.
• We are no longer living in the age of Christendom, in which the Christian faith can claim privileges from the wider society that are not extended to other faiths.
• Neither are we living in the age of the Catacombs, huddling together for dear life in a cozy little Christian ghetto.

We have a far better option, a far more creative option than either Christendom or the Catacombs. We are participants in the marketplace of ideas, living with confidence in our own faith and with respect for the convictions of others, relating our faith to whatever part of the culture we identify with. We can offer to our neighbours with confidence our share of the truth we’ve received, as we also receive with gratitude their share of the truth they’ve received.

As we participate in the marketplace of ideas alongside other honest seekers for truth, we do so knowing that the living God, in whom we “live and move and have our being” is no “unknown god” but God-in-our-midst, who is “not far from each one of us”.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Copyright: Robert J. Faser, 2011

“ … Just think of the lifetime achievements….”
a sermon by Bob Faser
St. Andrew’s Uniting Church, Bacchus Marsh, Victoria
15 May 2011

Today, as we celebrate Christ the Good Shepherd, we hear Jesus saying:

… [T]he sheep hear … [the shepherd’s] voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. … I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.

I’ve told this story before, during a family service last year, but the veteran actor Kirk Douglas once visited Berlin to receive a “lifetime achievement award” from the Berlin Film Festival. After the award ceremony, Douglas and his wife were having dinner with some friends along with an older woman his friends wanted them to meet. Douglas described this woman as “such a happy person, smiling and laughing”. Like Kirk Douglas, the woman was Jewish.

… [W]hen … [Douglas] was told that … [the woman’s]parents and grandparents had all been killed in the concentration camps, … [he] blurted out, ‘So why do you stay in Berlin?’

Smiling, she gave … this answer: ‘I owe that to the little heroes.’

‘I don’t understand,’ … [he] said. With a sigh, she came over and sat closer.

‘When the Gestapo came to get them, my parents sent me to a small hotel to save my life. The owner was the first little hero. She kept me safe for a couple of nights. When it became dangerous, I met my second little hero. Or should I say heroine? She was our former housekeeper. She hid me for a while and endangered her own life. Then I lived in a cloister. My little heroes were the nuns who took care of me when I was very sick. They never asked questions. When the situation became dangerous, my next little hero was a policeman who didn’t agree with the Nazis. All through the war, I was lucky to find little heroes who helped me …’

‘So, why do you stay here?’ … [Douglas] asked again. She looked at … [his] perplexed face and said, ‘I thought about it, but I feel I owe it to the little heroes who helped me. Not everyone here was wicked.’

Kirk Douglas concluded:

Her story had a great impact on me. Of course, we are always looking for a big hero to emulate, and very often we see them topple from clay feet. How much better to reach for the little heroes in life — and to try to be one. It’s not always as hard as it was for the people in wartime Berlin … you only need to try to help other people. And if everyone tried — well, just think of the lifetime achievements.

We contrast this with the cruelty we often see on the evening news. There are many people who seek to hurt, destroy, brutalise, and even kill those around them. We know that this is often for the flimsiest of reasons: because of the other’s race, culture, religion, lifestyle; even just because they are in the wrong place at the wrong time. In contrast to the cruelty we see on the evening news, we have the example of Christ the Good Shepherd.

And, today, Christ the Good Shepherd acts mostly through fallible human agents … through people like you and I. Sometimes, when we least expect it, we are all given the opportunity to express the profound mercy of God.

… [T]he sheep hear … [the shepherd’s] voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. … I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.

I heard another story, a very striking one, during an ANZAC Day broadcast a few years ago on ABC Radio. A veteran of the Second World War, a prisoner of war in Thailand, told of his encounter with a Japanese guard.

This guard was somehow different from his colleagues. He didn’t participate willingly in the brutality of his fellow guards. He knew a bit of English, and developed a particular rapport with the Australian prisoners, who gave him the nickname “AIF Joe”. This was the only name that the man telling the story knew for this guard.

AIF Joe was bringing a small group of prisoners (six or so, including the man telling the story) from one camp to another. AIF Joe was the only guard for the group. They were walking along a track through the jungle. On one side of the track, there was a steep drop, with thick jungle below.

Suddenly, AIF Joe stopped. He raised his rifle in the air and fired a shot into the air. He shouted, “I hate bloody war!” and threw his rifle down into the thick jungle.

After the Australian prisoners spent a few minutes agreeing with AIF Joe’s sentiments, they all realised they were faced with a dilemma. If AIF Joe was to show up at the next camp without his weapon, he would be executed. So the few hour or so saw a rare comic moment in that tragic war, with six Australian prisoners and their Japanese guard all searching the jungle for the guard’s rifle.

The rifle was eventually found. The rest of the march to the camp was spent by the prisoners and their guard in fabricating a convincing story as to why they were late, so that AIF Joe wouldn’t get into trouble with the officers. The story must have been convincing. Not only did AIF Joe not get into trouble (at least that time), but the prisoners were given the next day as a rare rest day.

Of course, we are always looking for a big hero to emulate, and very often we see them topple from clay feet. How much better to reach for the little heroes in life — and to try to be one. … You … only need to try to help other people. And if everyone tried — well, just think of the lifetime achievements.

And, today, Christ the Good Shepherd acts mostly through fallible human agents … through people like you and I. Sometimes, when we least expect it, we are all given the opportunity to express the profound mercy of God.

To be honest, the story of AIF Joe did not end happily. A later time came when he was caught assisting a prisoner – against orders – and he was executed.

There are risks, real risks, in seeking to live within the spirit of the Good Shepherd. The risks for many of us may not be as physical as the risks that confronted AIF Joe or the risks that confronted the nuns, the policeman, and the other Germans who sheltered Kirk Douglas’s friend.

By living in the spirit of Christ the Good Shepherd, we may face risks of a more social or emotional nature.
• You may be labeled a “bleeding heart” by the hard-hearted.
• You may be called a “do-gooder” by all the “no-gooders”.

We may face risks of a more social or emotional nature, risks similar to the peer pressure to conform faced by most young people today. They are still real risks, nevertheless.
The good news is that the risks are worth it. Through the risks, we are enabled to follow in the path of Christ the Good Shepherd.

… [T]he sheep hear … [the shepherd’s] voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. … I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.

And the story continues. For all of us, whatever the circumstances, whatever the risks, we are enabled to follow in the path of Christ the Good Shepherd.

And if everyone tried — well, just think of the lifetime achievements.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Copyright: Robert J. Faser, 2011

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