Hopewit

As Jesus made his long journey down to Jerusalem , anticipating there the final clash of worlds, I wonder if he brooded nostalgically over the pungent smell of sandalwood, the heft of a hammer in his hand, the vision of his father bent over a block of sycamore planing it to a smooth, aromatic finish. Did he long to feel again the warmth of his mother's hand on his forehead, her quiet movements around the house as she prepared the evening meal? As he lay awake at night, did he long for the countryside of his youth, the hills and valleys around Nazareth where he spent long summer days of discovery with friends, the beach days skipping stones on the sparkling surface of the Sea of Galilee? For what was Jesus nostalgic, what did he long to retrieve when he cried out in agony in Gethsemane, “ Abba , Father, everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me.” It comes as no surprise that age longs for youth, that the river imagines brilliant, sparkling mounta...

Peace, safety, serenity It gets complicated. Or does it? The voices are many and loud urging Canada to take in more refugees from Syria, and to do it quickly. Meanwhile, other voices are cautioning that this mass migration is a perfect opportunity, for instance, for ISIS to infiltrate Western countries for the purpose of terrorizing us. How can we both take in many refugees quickly and ensure that they're truly refugees and not hiding in the migration population with sinister purposes in mind? There's an old saying that no good deed ever goes unpunished. As an MCC volunteer in Europe, I facilitated the relocation of a refugee family from Hungary to Canada under the sponsorship of a Mennonite congregation. Despite the best efforts of the congregation to welcome and settle the family, it was very soon clear that the church and MCC were being used; the family disappeared shortly after arrival and turned up in a Hungarian expat community in Toronto.  All involved ...

My favourite watercolour artist and neighbour, Brian Hicks It seems tragic to me that we have now reached the point where the defining factor in a person's Mennonite identity is his/her opinion on whether or not the church should honour gay persons' desires to solemnize their commitment to each other in their church. In the USA, the large Lancaster Conference is working on plans to separate from MC USA; except for the gay marriage issue, this wouldn't be happening. I'm reminded of Dr. Seuss' The Sneetches where a physical attribute is allowed to divide, where a certain feature—or lack of it—escalates to become blatant and unnecessary discrimination blocking out the central truth—which is discovered at the end: WE ARE ALL SNEETCHES.  It's a children's book, not the Bible, but the core of Dr. Seuss' parable might be something we want to revisit: the unwarranted escalation of one apparently important difference has the power to obscure ...

(From Edmonton) John 7 strikes me as political as the gospel gets, almost as if it's a chronicle of the ambivalence in the Jewish Community of the time with regard to the identity and role of the awaited Davidic Messiah. Rumours abound about this Jesus who claims that identity; the people wait for leadership to decide, they in turn are torn between recognizing his deeds and teachings as God-inspired or killing him as an impostor. I'm not sure what one should make of the brothers of Jesus urging him to go up to Judea for the Festival of Tabernacles, his refusal to do so . . . And then going anyway. Once there, of course, he's recognized as the one who's raised a following potentially capable of challenging the status quo. So the debate is on: how could a Galilean, of all people claim to be the fulfillment of the Messianic hope? Described in it's most raw firm, I am a spiritual descendant of the Gentile converts post-resurrection, not of the Jewish followers of J...

(Written on my Blackberry; no picture today) John six begins with the feeding of the five thousand and "walking on water" signs and more or less duplicates the stories in the other gospels. I won't repeat the comments  I made during my Matthew reading about these events. I just participated in an inter-church communion service last night and so the metaphoric "eat my flesh, drink my blood" pronouncement is still fresh in my mind. In John's record, so much is made of the image and the fact that hearers were extremely disturbed by it that one wonders why Jesus didn’t choose a more palatable metaphor. As I understand it, it's a simple declaration that following Jesus requires that his word, his teaching, his sonship must be absorbed in their totality; this is not a hobby or something that one does on weekends. You don't snack on Jesus; he must be your main course, your total spiritual sustenance. That has to be the message; not much is as repugnant...

 Eigenheim Church - Photo by Maryvel Friesen - thanks, Maryvel John 5: Jesus vs. the "Jewish leaders." Now here's a story that should bring a chuckle. Near the pool of Bethesda lies a paralytic on a mat, hoping someone will help him into the healing waters of the pool. Jesus walks by, sees him and heals his paralysis. The man gets up and walks away. He's spotted by some elders/rabbis/pharisees — John doesn't make their identity clear — who charge the man with breaking Sabbath law . . . by carrying his mat. The oddities of other people's beliefs was in the news lately when Stephen Harper defended the refusal by a citizenship court to allow a woman wearing a Niqab to take the oath. Some dozen years ago, we were all bent out of shape here in Canada because a man of the Sikh religion wanted to wear a turban AND be a Mountie. I imagine there are people who find the Christian choice of a cross as its symbol somewhat odd, or the importance they pl...

The imagery is of a well, and water, and thirst. That the woman Jesus meets at Jacob's well while the disciples are shopping for food is Samaritan probably had more impact on early readers than it does on us. Central to the story is Jesus' use of the quenching power of water in a dry land to introduce the woman to a life that is more than the daily drawing of physical-life giving water, that promises fulfillment for the spirit, a fulfillment for which she thirsts. It's a thirst we all experience, a wish to be more like eagles that soar than like worms that drag themselves along the ground, grinding out their daily lives. Jesus offers the Samaritan woman only the news that the Messiah who will bring with him the spirit-raising water is here, sitting on the side of the very well where the ancestral hope for his coming was given birth. There is no “born again” transaction here; John's story is for the edification of the early church, a continuation of his def...