Friday, July 31, 2020

Witnessing in the sites of withdrawal: A call for communities of wilderness - Reflecting on Matthew 14:13-21


Most people had to withdraw from their holiday plans of travelling abroad this summer, due to the current circumstances, as there are many travel restrictions with quarantine and self-isolations from many countries and destinations being mandatory. Such withdrawals from vacations of holiday destinations, have resulted on people exploring staycations, which is where families stay at home and participate in leisure activities within driving distances from their homes. These are new ideas that people are willing to explore, which they did not in previous times, and this current pandemic is demanding people to try different things which they have not done before. Withdrawing from conventions and trying out something new and different has become a challenge with which people are coping with these days.

 

The gospel reading from Matthew 14:13-21, is a passage where Jesus withdraws from the public sphere to a deserted place in a boat all by himself, and later when the crowds gathered around him, he cured the sick and feeds five thousand hungry people by sharing five loaves of bread and two fish. This story of ‘feeding the five thousand’ has been recorded by all the four gospel writers and has been one of the most popular stories that people know from their Sunday school days. However, as I read this text again in the context of lockdown, I am more drawn towards the ‘withdrawal’ of Jesus, which has some relevance for our times today. Why did Jesus withdraw, from where did he withdraw and how has ‘withdrawal’ served as a site of witness for him are some of the questions that need our attention here.




 

Withdrawal as a Protest against the Powers:

In the two passages prior to this given text, we notice the rejection of Jesus at his home town Nazareth (Matt 13:54-58) and then the death of John the Baptist by Herod (Matt 14: 1-12). So, on hearing the news of John the Baptist’s death by Herod, Jesus withdrew from there to a deserted place by himself (14:13v). On hearing about the capital punishment and unjust killing of John who was prophetic, and on knowing that he is being recognised as the risen John the Baptist by Herod (14:1), I think Jesus withdrew from the public sphere in protest against the powers of his day to a deserted place. Jesus when he withdrew from the people in the public sphere, the crowd heard it and followed him (14:3). I imagine Jesus’ withdrawal from the public sphere would have been the talk of the town, and by his withdrawal in protest, Jesus was exposing Herod and his dictatorial, reckless, state-sanctioned, unjust killing of John the Baptist, whom the people of his day regarded as a prophet (14:5). Herod, the crony of the empire, misuses his power and executes John the Baptist, meeting to the whims and fancies of his mistress. Herod had every opportunity to prevent the unjust killing of John, but little did he act with and for justice, and eventually John the Baptist became a victim of state sanctioned capital punishment. When people started to search for Jesus, they understood that Jesus withdrew in protest against the powers and principalities of his day, on this occasion Herod. Elsewhere in Luke 13:32, we see Jesus saying to the Pharisees about Herod, “Go and tell that fox for me…” Jesus did not miss any opportunity to critique Herod for his unjust actions and politics.

 

By withdrawing into a deserted place, Jesus stepped away from the centres of the powerful public sphere, who were rejoicing the beheading of John the Baptist. On the other hand, Jesus withdrew to the deserted place, the wilderness, to express his solidarity with John the Baptist, who was a voice in the wilderness, and who lived in wilderness away from the centres of the powers. I again imagine, the crowd later on, when found Jesus in the deserted place all alone, would have recognised Jesus’ withdrawal was not only in protest against Herod’s unjust killing of John the Baptist, but also to express Jesus’s solidarity with John the Baptist, who lived, preached, baptised and spoke truth to the powers from such a site of wilderness/deserted place. The verb “Anachoreo” (withdrawal), used seven times in the gospel of Matthew, had always a suggested pattern of hostility/withdrawal/prophetic fulfilment for Jesus. However, in this instance, in this given text I recognise protest/withdrawal/solidarity pattern of Jesus.

 

Withdrawal as a site of Witness:

When the crowd came to know that Jesus withdrew from the public sphere in protest against the powers, especially Herod, and found him in the deserted place, Jesus had compassion on the people, cured the sick and fed more than five thousand people with bread and fish. Withdrawal for Jesus served as a site of witness, for Jesus did not send them hungry at that late hour in the day, but fed them sufficiently. Warren Carter explains in his book Matthew and the Margins, that this feast of feeding five thousand in the wilderness has to be read in juxtaposition of the previous passage where there was another feast of Herod’s birthday party. If the gathering in the wilderness was about compassion, healing the sick and feeding the hungry, what was happening in Herod’s palace was the exact opposite, heartlessness, revenge, gluttony and unjust state-sanctioned beheading of John the Baptist.

 

Therefore, for Jesus this withdrawal not only became a site of protest, but also served as a site of witness demonstrating compassion to the multitude of people who were hungry. The pompous party at Herod’s palace was happening at the expense of the hungry people in the wilderness, where a few powerful people in the empire own majority of the resources, leaving many people vulnerable, hungry, powerless and bread-less. I imagine, Jesus shares a simple meal of five loaves of bread and two fish to five thousand people not only out of compassion towards the hungry but also as a critique against the pompous birthday bash at Herod’s palace. While the act of sharing food by Jesus with a multitude of hungry people in the site of withdrawal was life-giving act, the party at Herod’s palace was life-denying where the imprisoned John, who spoke truth to the powers was beheaded as a return birthday gift.

 

In his withdrawal from the public sphere into the deserted place, Jesus created a community of wilderness, an alternative public sphere based on the values of thanksgiving, sharing, caring, feeding and demonstrating compassion in action. This community of wilderness became a witnessing community, witnessing Jesus’ protest, solidarity, compassion, healing the sick, feeding the hungry and live-giving acts. After feeding the five thousand, Jesus dismissed the crowd, and the disciples, and again went into solitude to a mountain to pray (14:23). What we gather from this is that for Jesus prayer was a personal act, whereas feeding the five thousand was a political and a public act. In other words, on the one hand wilderness for Jesus served as a site of political and public witness, where the hungry are fed and the sick are healed, and on the other hand wilderness served as a site of personal witness, where Jesus spends time in prayer, waiting and listening to God.

 

As I am completing this reflection, I heard on news that Greater Manchester will be in lock-down again as there is an increase in the rate of transmissions, as social distancing rules have not been strictly adhered to. The easing out of lock down is now withdrawn for people here. Drawing a relevance of this text for us today, the questions that comes to the fore are, what are the signs and sites of withdrawal for us? And how are we witnessing in such sites today? In my quest for reimagining the church today, as we re-turn to the church buildings for worship, we have two options before us, one is Herod’s palace where a pompous birthday bash is happening with the elite and powerful attending, and the other is community of wilderness where feeding of the hungry is happening where people on the margins are attending. For me, churches today are called to be the community of wilderness, where we offer our resources like the five loaves and two fish and willing to work with Jesus in sharing with the rest of the multitude who are hungry and needy.  As churches we are called to withdraw from centres of powers in protest against the unjust systems and make a preferential option of being in solidarity with those on the margins. As churches we are called to withdraw in protest from status quos that uphold oppressive structures like that of racism, casteism, patriarchy. As churches we are called to protest against the unjust policies which are making people go hungry and are called to be compassionate in addressing specially child hunger in our contexts.

 

The new data shows that almost a fifth of UK homes with children go hungry in lock down, as millions of people are struggling to afford for food. In such a context, there is a greater role and relevance for our churches today in addressing hunger which is a reality in our midst, in our own localities. As churches we are called to withdraw from our conventional modes of being and doing church, but rather are called to witness in such sites of withdrawal by feeding the hungry. When I have written such reflections in the previous weeks, I was asked by few of my church friends, are not the charities working on addressing poverty and hunger, and so what is the difference between church and a charity? My immediate response was, if charities are working on issues of poverty and churches are not, that in itself exposes the failure on the part of us as churches for we have not lived up to our call of addressing the needs of the poor, like the hungry in the wilderness. Jesus today wants us as churches to be communities of wilderness, working with Jesus and with one another in meeting the needs of the people, and be witnessing communities living with compassion for people on the margins.

 

On many occasions we have been like disciples saying to Jesus, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” (14:15) Perhaps Jesus is calling to us all to withdraw from such assertions to send people away, for Jesus never wants to send away people in hunger. Jesus then replied to his disciples and he is saying it aloud to us today, “they need not go away. You give them something to eat.” (14:16) Let those that have ears hear this and act now, “you give them something to eat.”        

 

May God in Jesus grant us strength to withdraw from our cosy, comfortable, conventional modes of being church and lead us in our call to be a community of wilderness, where the sick are healed, the hungry are fed and where there is compassion filled with justice for all. May God be with us this summer as we withdraw from our regular ways of doing things, to do something new and different.

 

Rev. Dr. Raj Bharat Patta

31st July 2020


Pic courtesy: https://www.learnreligions.com/jesus-feeds-the-5000-700201

 

Friday, July 24, 2020

Masking Prayer - CBeckett- Raj Patta

The (ab)normal as the ‘new’ normal: The parable of the mustard seed - Reflecting on Matthew 13:31-33


As the churches are beginning to re-open as the lockdown is easing out, with their risk assessments done, making plans for public worship, the real question that comes to the fore is, are we as churches going to get back to the same kind of being and doing church? Though we will begin to gather in our church buildings, there are still lots of restrictions in place, like we are not allowed to sing, no hymn books, no coffee and tea after the service, people sitting in social distancing, track and trace records, can’t have large gatherings, short services, no shaking hands and hugs, one way to enter and another way to exit, hand sanitization and cleanings. Will our church worship services be like what we have always known? Will our church buildings be like what we have known? When we return, it will be a different normal, perhaps we are stepping into an abnormal normal, which according to me is ‘beyond’ normal, especially in the case of church.

 

Jesus spoke to his disciples in at least seven parables about the mysteries of the kingdom of God in Matthew 13, and in 31-33 verses, Jesus shared the parable of the mustard seed. Over the years many have interpreted this parable in terms of size, that mustard seed is a small seed and grows to become a big tree, and so is it with the Christian faith. But if we get the facts right, we know that mustard seed is not the smallest of the seeds for there are many other seeds smaller than mustard seed. Also, mustard seed grows to become a shrub and it never grows to be a tree, leave alone to be the greatest tree. Why then does Jesus shares this parable? Yes, I know many will then argue that parables are allegorical and are told to share a message, and any literal reading of seeking facts might undermine the essence of a parable. As I re-read this parable for our times today, I find that Jesus was sharing this parable with a certain degree of abnormality in mind, that the mustard seed will grow to be a greatest tree nesting many birds on its branches. However, through that abnormality, Jesus is conveying a message of critique and a message of hope to his audience then and now, which is a message that the kingdom of God is ‘beyond’ normal.



 

1.     The abnormal as a critique against the norm of empire:

The parable of the mustard seed is recorded in all the four gospels Matthew, Mark, Luke and John and also in the gospel of Thomas as a parable shared by Jesus about the Kingdom of God. The audience of these gospels were well aware of the first century Jewish kingdom narratives, particularly the metaphorical usage of trees representing the rulers and the empires. In the Old Testament, Assyria and Nebuchadnezzar are depicted as large trees providing shelter to many birds on their branches in Ezekiel 31:6 and Daniel 4:12. In both these instances Assyria as an empire provided shelter to many other neighbouring nations and Nebuchadnezzar as a king provided shelter to his people in his kingdom. When Jesus said that the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed which grows to be the greatest tree in the field nesting birds on its branches, though it was not normal for the mustard seed to grow that way, Jesus picked that abnormality to critique the norm of empire by warning the colonial powers that such an abnormal will be the ‘new’ normal. The kingdom of God grows in an (ab)normal way, defying the norm of an empire, not in the normal way of growing to be a shrub but in a subversive way of growing to be a tree from a tiny pungent mustard seed. The norm of the empire is that the powerful becomes the tree and under the patronage of the powers and principalities, the rest of the nations and ethnicities seek their shelter. But the norm of the kingdom of God is that out of powerlessness, out of smallness the mustard seed grows to become an (ab)normally greatest tree so that the birds of the air can nest on its branches. The parable of the mustard seed becomes a lens to understand that Jesus’ kingdom of God is abnormal to the known empires of Assyria or Rome, yet in that (ab)normality those that are different from mustard seeds find their shelter. Jesus shared this parable of the mustard seed as a critique to the norms and normalisations of the empires.

 

2.     The abnormal as a hopeful aspiration ‘beyond’ normal:

Who would have thought that the mustard seed would grow, become a plant, become a shrub and then turn to be a big tree, greatest of the shrubs? Jesus by sharing this parable was explaining that the kingdom of God begins as a small seed and then grows (ab)normally beyond normal. This parable expresses a hopeful aspiration of the kingdom of God, for it grows (ab)normally, beyond the expectations of the sower, beyond the expectations of the mustard seed, beyond the expectation of the field in which it grows, beyond the expectation of all the hearers and audience of this parable. As is the normal, the kingdom of God which is like a mustard seed growing up, the expectation is to grow as a plant and a shrub. But that edge or notion of growing into a tree and into a greatest tree conveys the eschatological vision of the kingdom of God, which is not limited to the normal, which is not limited to the expected, but which transcends and outgrows the normal. By sharing about the (ab)normal growth of the kingdom of God like a mustard seed, Jesus is conveying that the kingdom of God is not what we think as normal where business is as usual, but kingdom of God is ‘beyond’ normal, with unexpectedness, with surprises, with some shocks, and with no limitations. In that (ab)normality, the kingdom of God provides a hope for the mustard seed to become a greatest tree, which was unthinkable and unimaginable. Hope is not knowing the future, but trusting in the God of the future, for God will lead from the known normal to ‘beyond’ normal, into the (ab)normal walking and working with us.  

 

3.     The abnormal as an opportune space for a different purpose:

What would be the ultimate purpose of an apple tree? To be fruitful and yield a great harvest of apples. Similarly, what would be the purpose of a mustard tree? To grow mustard seeds and yield a great harvest of mustard seeds. These understanding of the purposes of the trees is a very human-centred view of the trees, where we selfishly think that trees grow fruits for the benefit of humankind. But when Jesus narrated this parable, he said that the mustard seed will grow to be a greatest tree, and never mentions about the harvest of the mustard seeds, but Jesus said “so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” Jesus presents an ecological vision of the kingdom of God, where the mustard seed grows into a tree to nest the birds of the air. The (ab)normality of this parable grows to a greater height when Jesus narrates that the mustard seed not only outgrows from a shrub to a tree, but also outgrows to nest the birds of the air. The (ab)normal growth of the mustard seed to become a hopeful greatest tree is not to enjoy the privilege of being the greatest and biggest tree yielding a great harvest, but to be a space of shelter for a variety of birds of the air to nest on its branches. The (ab)normal comes with an ecological vision of trees being grown not to meet the selfish desires of human beings, but to become a space to nest the birds on its branches. With the trees being cut down because of human greed, we can understand how much it affects the housing of the birds.

 

So, seeking a relevance of this parable today, as we prepare for a re-turn to our churches, the call for us is to engage in a spirituality of the (ab)normal growth of the kingdom of God. Such an engagement requires not to re-turn uncritically to the things we have always done, but to re-envision what God wants us to do at a moment like this. In the present context I see the church as a mustard seed, and the kingdom of God is where the church grows (ab)normally to be a tree nesting the birds of the air as its ecological missional calling. No one would expect the church to grow into a tree, but if we want to be part of the kingdom of God that Jesus inaugurated, it might look (ab)normal, but it is the need of the hour, to become a tree to shelter birds, save them from extinction and save the planet.

 

Secondly the (ab)normal growth of the church like the kingdom of God happens as a critique of the empire which comes to us in the forms of capitalist understanding of growth for whom numbers and profits are all that matter. The (ab)normal growth as a church is recognised not in the yield of the mustard seed harvest, but in providing shelter to many people who do not have shelter, becoming a space of hospitality to all those who are on the move, crossing boundaries and oceans, and by offering to be a Christian presence of sharing love, peace and justice with people in our communities. These outcomes certainly sound abnormal to many people for whom church is all about filling the pews, but the parable of the mustard seed speaks to us to think of the kingdom of God growing (ab)normally to be a tree addressing housing issues for birds, for people and to all those that are in need of shelter.

 

In recent news this week, the churches across the denominations in Southampton, UK are working to break down the barriers to housing preventing homelessness by supporting Southampton Churches Rent Deposit Scheme, which has till now funded 79 rental deposits in a year of which 14 were people who were sleeping rough. This for me serves as an example of how the church can grow (ab)normally by supporting housing issues for the needy among us. This is an inspiring model for us as churches in other places to take on board and strive to address the issues of housing.

 

Thirdly, the (ab)normal growth of the church as the kingdom of God happens in the unknown, the unexpected and the unimagined ways of doing church. The mustard seed growing to be a shrub was a normal phenomenon, but growing to be a tree, and to be a housing tree is that extra edge that Jesus was pushing the boundaries, which is but the very meaning of the kingdom of God. We cannot follow Jesus without following this ‘edginess.’ As churches today the calling for us is to allow God to push our boundaries to do things that are different from what we have always done, and to be prepared as churches to grow (ab)normally, ‘beyond’ normal, so that we become relevant for our times today.

 

Allow me to reiterate, for Jesus, the growth of the mustard seed is in it growing to be a greatest tree by sheltering the birds of the air, and so it is for the church in the design of the kingdom of God. Jesus in a way was abnormalizing normality and normalising abnormality. Jesus elsewhere in Matthew 17: 20 said that if we have a faith like a grain of mustard seed, we can do the impossible. May God grant us such a faith like the grain of mustard seed so that we can grow as a church (ab)normally by sheltering those needy people in our spaces. May this parable of the mustard seed inspire us as a church in our reimagining to (ab)normally grow as a church being a church with an ecological vision, and with a communitarian vision with a preference to those on the margins. Perhaps in growing (ab)normally we as a church will find our relevance today. Post-lockdown is an opportune time for us to discover and explore our (ab)normal ways of being a church.

 

Let me conclude with the words of Pope Francis, 

 

“Each Christian and every community must discern the path that the Lord points out, but all of us are asked to obey his call to go forth from our own comfort zone in order to reach all the ‘peripheries,’ in need of the light of the gospel.”

 

Rev. Dr. Raj Bharat Patta

23rd July 2020


Pic credit: http://leohartshorn.blogspot.com/2009/01/gods-reign-is-for-birds-sermon-on.html

Friday, July 17, 2020

The Written-out Slaves: Reflecting on Matthew 13: 24-30, 36-43


 In the context of #BlackLivesMatter, there are many people in the public spheres who are arguing that the rhetoric should be “#alllivesmatter.” They insist that in the ambit of ‘all lives’ mattering ‘black lives’ will anyway be there. However, with the reality of ongoing, unabated violence against Black people, and their torture and killing, it has been revealing that ‘Black lives’ did not and do not matter at all. Therefore, the cry and demand has been #BlackLivesMatter, which is a cry for justice for the oppressed communities. 

 

On a similar note in the context of caste system, the cry for justice has been #Dalitlivesmatter, again for the similar reason that ‘Dalit lives’ and ‘Dalit bodies’ have not mattered and have been battered for centuries, for their bodies are raped, killed, tortured, disappeared, erased and even forgotten. The logic of empire destroys bodies by killings, scatters bodies through terror, unjustly crucifies bodies, disappears bodies by torture, disintegrates the bio-politics of life and conveniently writes out the stories of people on the margins. Dalit lives and Black lives have not only been ‘hidden transcripts’ in the face of empire today, but are also ‘forgotten trans-scripts,’ where their lives are consciously forgotten and if otherwise are forced as ‘no-humans’ in our public spheres today.



 

The gospel writer Matthew, in his reworking of Mark’s account, has replaced the parable of a seed growing secretly (Mark 4:26-29) with this unique parable, which the NRSV titles as ‘the parable of weeds among the wheat,’ to communicate about the kingdom of heaven’s mysteries. Matthew records both Jesus’ narration of this parable to the crowds (24-30 verses) and its explanation to his disciples (36-43 verses), so that Matthew’s audience would clearly understand the parable. Matthew took note of every detail in Jesus’ explanation of the parable including the sower is the Son of Man, the field is the world, the good seed are children of the kingdom, the weeds are the children of the evil one, the enemy is the devil, the harvest is the end of the age and the reapers are angels (37-39 verses). With such a fine detailed explanation of the parable, the audience of the first century Church and also the readers today will appreciate Matthew for his detailed recording of Jesus’ parable. 

 

However, as I read it, I recognise a colonial episteme of #alllivesmatter in Matthew’s recording in those details.

 

There is a stark distinction between Jesus’ narration of this parable and his explanation of it, where the slaves who are mentioned in the narration (27, 28 verses) are missed in the explanation. Such a conscious omission in the explanation of the parable demonstrates slaves’ lives did not matter, which mirrors the reality of first century Palestine living under colonial Roman empire. 

 

While the rest of the characters in the parable got attention and an explanation, the unrecording, the unrecognition and even erasure of who these slaves are and who these slaves represent in the explanation of the parable expose a deep hermeneutical problem. The slaves existed in the original story of the parable but are forgotten in the interpretation, which is only symptomatic of the then society’s reality. They are forgotten in the worldview of the society as ‘no-bodies,’ for the slaves are treated as property, tradable goods, ‘sub-humans,’ ‘de-humans’ and ‘no-humans.’ The slaves, their bodies and their lives are the ‘forgotten trans-scripts’ of both the texts and the society, for they are overlooked and are taken for granted as their existence is recognised in their non-existence. Many commentators chose to explain about judgement and fire in this text, lest they forget that by erasing the lives of the slaves in the interpretation, they have already (mis)judged that the lives of the slaves do not matter to the story of this parable. 

 

A decolonial reading of this text, therefore, challenges us to recover and reclaim the forgotten lives in the text and the context. A recovery of these forgotten lives is by ‘hearing to speech’ their voices, which is an affirmation of their existence in society. #Slaveslivesmatter, #Blacklivesmatter and #Dalitlivesmatter.

 

Applying decolonial hermeneutics to this text, I attempt to narrate this parable from the perspective of the forgotten slaves, particularly from a Dalit perspective, for such writing is liberative and therapeutic for our communities. For decolonial hermeneutics, an engagement with the question of “what is Jesus doing today?” takes precedence to the questions of “what would Jesus do? (WWJD) and “What did Jesus do?” for any given text. The hermeneutic of "what is Jesus doing today?" allows us to reflect on the work of Jesus beyond a textual evidence, in a way that God works mysteriously and differently than what God has always done. This hermeneutic provides a space to recognise God’s creative ways of revelation, different from the paradigms we have always known like God’s word is only available in the written texts, by deconstructing the coloniality of texts, what Sugirtharajah calls “scriptural imperialism.”

 

As we are reading this text today, Jesus encourages the forgotten voices of the slaves in this text to speak, for in ‘hearing to speech’ their voices Jesus wants to join them and the movement for justice today. Here is Annamma, my grandmother, a first-generation Dalit Christian woman, whose family worked as agricultural labourers narrating this parable from her perspective:

 

For many generations, we as a family have been working under a dominant caste landlord as agricultural labourers. One fine day, we are commanded by our master to sow the seeds in the field. We worked day in and day out in getting the field ready, and as is our practice, with song and dance we collectively worked in sowing the seeds. We guarded the field day and night from the pests and took extra care of the field. One night when we were all asleep, the rival group of our landlord, who were from another dominant caste, came, attacked us and sowed weeds in our field. We resisted them but could not stop it. In that fight one of our uncles died. As the plants grew, we noticed weeds growing along with grain. At that moment I garnered all the strength in the world, stood up and repeated the words of Ambedkar, “It could be your interest to be our master, how could it be ours to be your slaves?” We told our master should we gather the weeds and the enemies? He did not encourage us to do it. Finally, when the crop came to harvest, we first cut the weeds and bundled it and then reaped the harvest of the grain, gathering it in our master’s barn. When the harvest has come, our master called us all as a family, confessed for keeping us as slaves for several centuries, and for sacrificing our lives for the cause of land. In response to his repentance, he offered retributive justice by distributing the grain equally among us all, and made us to own equal proportion of land along with him. From then on, we all lived in equality, dignity, and justice, sharing and caring for one another without any discrimination.

 

When my grandmother Annamma writes this parable, she explains that it is not the master who has sown the seeds but it is them, Dalit labourers, who do that work. It is their family, who collectively works and guards the field from enemies. It is their family that receives attacks and even lost a life of one of their family members in protecting the field. Grandma Annamma stood up and spoke truth to the landlord, which was costly, yet necessary. It is their family that cuts the weeds and then reaps the harvest. Through their acts of care for the field and resistance to the enemy, grandma Annamma and her family challenged the master to repent and offer retributive justice by sharing that land with them.

 

When Dalits write their own stories, they represent themselves, explain themselves and celebrate the agency of liberation in themselves. For over the years, the colonial hermeneutic worked based on the epistemology of the powerful, where they ‘represented others stories,’ in which process there was not only a ‘misrepresentation’ of Dalit lives and ‘objectification’ of Dalit lives, but also locating their version of God within this framework to which they sought Converts. When Dalits write, they contest these misrepresentations and objectifications, and provide a sub-version of the texts. When Dalits write, they experience liberation. A decolonial reading of this given text calls us to offer our support and solidarity with #Blacklivesmatter and #Dalitlivesmatter, recognising an agency of liberation in our Dalit and Black bodies, lives and texts. Never to forget, erase, overlook and take for granted the lives and stories of the people on the margins, for the divine is working in and with them. Let anyone with ears to hear listen!    

 

I would like to conclude this reflection by offering a title to this given text as “The parable of written-out slaves” for 24-30 verses and “Slaves lives did not matter: Forgotten and Erased” for 36-43 verses. Such a titling of these passages invites us to expose the ‘forgotten trans-scripts’ of the texts, and commits us to stand and strive for the liberation of all oppressed communities in our localities.

 

 

Rev. Dr. Raj Bharat Patta

15th July 2020

 

(This reflection is published on https://politicaltheology.com/the-written-out-slaves/)


Pic credit: https://people.com/human-interest/black-lives-matter-protestor-statue-bristol-removed-after-25-hours/

 

Friday, July 10, 2020

Church unbound: Setting our minds on the things of the Spirit - Reflecting on Romans 8: 1-11


 The first step to follow in reopening the church building for worship, post lockdown according to the Church guidance is to think missionally, where we are encouraged to engage creatively and responsibly in the context of our church’s mission plan. In that missional reflection, the key point is to discern the hand of God in our plans, allowing the Spirit of God to lead and guide us, for our calling is to be a church unbound, where the interests of ‘others’ take priority than our own self-interests. Paul in writing to the church in Rome, particularly from the prescribed text in our lectionary this Sunday, Romans 8:1-11, was explaining a contrast between flesh and spirit, inviting the early Christians to set their minds on the things of the Spirit of God, invoking them to think missionally in their being and becoming as a church.

 

The book of Romans was written by Paul to the early Christians living in an urban context of Rome, who were gathering as a house church. In contrast to the rest of the letter Paul had written, this letter to Romans was written to a church that Paul has not founded or visited, yet he writes some strong theological foundations of Christian faith in the context of Jewish traditions. The two main missional aims of Paul in writing this letter to Romans was firstly to convince and inspire the Christians in Rome to contribute towards the poor people in Jerusalem, and secondly to help in to spread the gospel to Spain (Romans 15:22-29).  With such aims in his mind, Paul in Romans 8:1-11 was appealing his fellow followers of Christ in Rome to set their mind not on the things of flesh but on spirit, so that they belong to Christ. He also encourages them that “there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (1v).  



 

To set the mind on the things of the Spirit according to Paul can be done by those who are living according to the Spirit of God (5v). Secondly it is life and peace (6v). Thirdly, it is friendship with God, submitting to God’s word and ultimately it is pleasing God (7v). Fourthly, it is belonging to Christ, as it is to have the Spirit of Christ in them. Fifthly, to set the mind on the things of the Spirit means to experience the indwelling of Christ and Spirit (8-9v). Sixthly, it is to be assured to have a new life experience in Christ (11v).  Paul presents all these aspects of setting mind on the things of the Spirit over against setting mind on the things of the flesh. Herewith I tabulate the contrasts that Paul explains:

 

Setting the mind on the things of the Spirit

Setting the mind on the things of the flesh

People who live according to the spirit

People who live according to the flesh

Life and peace

Death

Friendship with God

Hostile to God

Submission to God’s Law

Cannot not submit to God’s law

Pleasing God

Cannot please God

Indwelling of the Spirit of God  

No indwelling of the Spirit of God

Belonging to Christ

Does not belong to Christ

The spirit is life because of righteousness

Life denying

 

Setting the mind on the things of the Spirit is a way of Paul’s call to the Christians in Rome towards new creation in Christ, where quality of life is affirmed and lived out. It also meant not to be limited by the written rules, rituals and regulations of the Law, but to be creative in the mission of God, for the Spirit of God is unbound and so should the Christian ethos and discipleship be.

 

Setting the mind on the things of the Spirit today is primarily about giving up our old ways of doing things and engaging in doing new and creative things, which are lifegiving, lifesaving and life promoting. For the Christians living in Rome, they were on the one hand bound by the traditions and rituals of Jewish law, and on the other hand were bound by the Roman empire. In such a context Paul was inspiring the Christians in Rome, not to be bound by law and flesh, but to set the mind on the things of the Spirit, for there is freedom, there is inclusion, there is creativity and there is meaning to life in the Spirit. The relevance of this text for us today is to set our mind on the things of the Spirit, which is allowing the Spirit of God to break open the bindings in which we are fixed and to wide open the boundaries that we have drawn.

 

“These are the things that have always worked,” “These are the things that have not worked,” “This is how things should be,” are some of the words that I keep hearing from people around us. But when we turn and set our minds on the things of the Spirit, we are allowing the Spirit of God firstly helping us to understand that “yes, they have worked previously, but there are other ways, different from what we have always known that will work,” so be open to them and take on it. The Spirit of God grants us courage to do things differently than what it was in the law, she grants us strength to do new things other than those that are in the law, and she grants us openness in (ad)venturing creative things other than that are in the law. To set our minds on the things of the flesh is allowing ourselves to be bound by law, ritual and to things that we have always known and have always done. We are called to be a church unbound, setting our minds on the things of the Spirit.

 

Last night’s Agape meal service was where I personally found meaning in the understanding of being united as Christians. Though we are living in isolation, each of us sitting in our own homes, yet we are all united by the grace of God. This is not what we have done previously, but the circumstances of lock down have called us to participate in such acts, where we can experience the Spirit of God, by joining in eating a cake/bread and drinking juice/wine in remembrance of the Jesus meal with his disciples, and by reflecting on the needs of the communities we live in. I also understand that the experience of the Spirit of God is different and diverse, for each of us experience it in ways which might be totally different to some others. We are therefore called to recognise that the Spirit of God works diversely, distinctly, dynamically and differentially.

 

This Sunday, the 12th of July 2020, we observe it as Action for Children Sunday, and the theme for this year has been “Choose Childhood,” which is an invitation again for the people of God to set our minds on the things of the Spirit, in this case acting on the needs of children. When holiday hunger is so real in our contexts, when child poverty has been on the rise, when childhood hurts for so many children due to neglect, abuse, poor mental health, is not joining to support these children a small act in setting our minds on the things of the Spirit today?

 

As Christians, we have a spiritual responsibility in sharing our love of Christ with people in need today, particularly with those on the margins and those that are vulnerable. Let us prayerfully try to do church differently, by which I mean to say functionally and methodologically different, and perhaps this post lockdown scenario is an opportune time for us to do church differently. This Sunday kindly reflect on what are the things of the Spirit of God for us as churches today? Where do we see the hand of God in our activities? It is time we give up things of the flesh, things of the law, things of the ritual, things of the routine and set our minds on the things of the Spirit of God. This is an opportune time for the birth of a new church, grounded on the things of the Spirit and witnessing for the things of the Spirit of God. In our journey towards a church unbound, there might be messiness and clumsiness, take strength, for in Christ there is no condemnation, for we are always embraced by the love of Christ.

 

May the Spirit of Christ in whom we have no condemnation be with each of us, so that we can do the things as Christ is doing and belong to Christ in this our time and space. May we as a church baptise ourselves as a ‘church unbound’ participating in the acts of the Spirit of God here and now. Amen.

 

Rev. Dr. Raj Bharat Patta

10th July 2020

Friday, July 3, 2020

Towards a gracious reversal: Risking Christ for Christ’s sake - Reflecting on Matthew 11: 16-19, 25-30


Our quest for re-imagining church is gaining momentum, while some churches in the UK have opened for private prayers, while some are preparing towards opening their doors and while some are discussing about public worship following the government guidelines. Are we to do the same things that we have always done prior to lockdown or is this an opportune time to do things differently as churches so that we are relevant to our time and space? Is there any hope for a gracious revival of church today? By gracious revival I mean not about a numerical growth in the church, but a re-vitalisation of the celebration of Christian presence in our community. The prescribed text from our lectionary for this week speaks about a gracious reversal of things that Jesus offers, in a way inviting us to risk Christ for Christ’s sake, shifting the gear from how things have always been to something new, startling and radical. In this process, Christ whom we know traditionally will have to be risked for the sake of Christ who collaborates with us, for in a changing world, “what is Jesus doing today” takes precedence to “what did Jesus do” or “what would Jesus do.” These gracious reversals that Jesus offers serves as signposts in our reimagining churches today. Allow me to share three of those gracious reversals from this text:

 

1.     A gracious reversal of identity (18-19v)

When John the baptiser came neither eating nor drinking, but preaching a prophetic message of repentance in his public sphere, many mistook him for a messiah, which he graciously denied, saying that he has come to prepare a way for the messiah. Jesus in 14v, affirmed that John was Elijah, who is to come. However, Jesus later responded the public talk about John as they were saying “he has a demon” (18v). When John stood to be prophetic in his faith, when he humbled himself by preparing a way to Jesus the messiah, the public sphere framed and branded him to have a demon. This was a common feature of the religious authorities to brand dissidents as ‘demonic,’ in order to discredit them amongst the populations. I think such a branding came up because he was on the mission of casting off the political demons in his context. John’s proclamation of repentance was branded anti-God, because he was exposing the demons among the religious and political authorities, which he did courageously.

 

On another note Jesus explains the branding of Jesus’ own identity when he as Son of Man came eating and drinking in his own public sphere, they said, “Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners” (19v). By uttering these words about his identity in the public sphere, Jesus was unashamedly affirming that among those people and sites who have been (mis)branded as ‘sinners,’ as ‘excluded,’ as ‘outcasted,’ and as ‘unrighteous’ according to the standards of temple and empire, that he identifies with and his presence dwells among them. Jesus subversively reverses his identity from being a rabbi, a teacher, a leader, Son of God, Son of David, Lord, Messiah, Son of Man to be called as glutton, drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners. In that subversion of all the great Christological titles that Jesus was known and ascribed as, there is a gracious risk in him being recognised as a glutton, drunkard and as a friend of tax collectors and sinners. The gracious risk was in his identifying with those people who are considered ‘outcasts’, for he has come for such people on the margins. The graciousness is further revealed, when Jesus said, “yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds,” (19b v), by which Jesus was ascertaining his friendships with the ‘excluded’ and ‘outcasted’ as a conscious choice which he demonstrated in his actions for and with them.

 

Risking Christ for Christ’s sake is an interesting book written by an Indian theologian MM Thomas in the context of religious pluralism. Thomas explains that, Christians “risk Christ for Christ’s sake” by allowing their faith to be interpreted in the categories of ‘others.’ When Jesus graciously reverses his identity and rebrands himself as a ‘friend of tax collectors and sinners,’, he is inviting us to risk the conventional identities of Jesus, church and mission to more subversive identities for the sake of Christ today, because in such subversion there is graciousness and relevance of our Christian faith. Are we bold as a church to be branded and called ‘Look at this church, friends of ‘misfits’ and the excluded?’ Jesus did not attribute morality and judge these people, rather demonstrated love of God to these people who are (mis)branded by the society as ‘misfits,’ by being with them and allowing to work with them. This text is inviting us as church and as disciples to take on a gracious reversal of identity, by allowing ourselves to befriend ‘misfits,’ with and be branded as friends of the ‘misfits.’ Such a rebranding is our public witness today, for we need to vindicate our solidarity in actions and in building communities of love and hope.    



 

2.     A gracious reversal of agency (25-26v)

Jesus did give thanks to God on occasions like blessing the bread before serving to 5000 people, when Lazarus came back to life, at the Passover meal with his disciples, and oddly he gives thanks to God for hiding his revelations from the wise and revealing them to the children (25-26v). ‘Knowledge is power’ has been one of the colonial ideologies on which the empires were driven, for they have always kept knowledge with the powerful as they constructed knowledge making it ‘power is knowledge.’ Jesus in rebranding his identity and mission, graciously reverses the agency of knowledge, the agency of interpretation, the agency of discernment from the so called ‘wise’ and ‘intelligent’ to infants, for which he thanks God of the heaven and the earth. This reversal of agency is a matter of praising God for Jesus, in which we recognise graciousness. Has such a reversal ever been a part of our praise and thanksgiving? In this reversal Jesus celebrates the knowledge and discernment of the infants, who are considered powerless in contrast to the adult powerful, and upholds that ‘in powerlessness there is knowledge,’ ‘powerlessness is not weakness and never is it foolishness.’ Jesus was exposing the arrogance of the so called ‘wise’ and ‘intelligent’ by allowing God’s revelations to come through the powerless people.

 

In our reimagining church today, we are called to reimagine worship, for what constitutes our praise and worship? We are called to join with Jesus in praising God for the new revelations that are erupting from the infants and the powerless people in our community, which might be risky on the one hand and be totally different from what we have always known as praise and worship on the other hand. Our context also invites us to reimagine the hermeneutics (interpretative tools) we apply in our churches, for who interprets the texts for us? Only when there is a gracious reversal of agency happening in our churches, a willingness to take the risk, where the powerful give up and stand down to listen to the revelations of the infants, the children, the women, the disabled, and several from others in the margins, only then will we as churches be relevant. The revelations of the powerless communities will come as a surprise for they may come in song, in dance, in drawing, in music, in poetry and in creative messiness, which will be radically different from what we have always heard and done in our churches. Are we ready for such a radical risky reversal of agency in our churches today? In such gracious risks, new creation in Christ flows and evolves.

 

3.     A gracious reversal of liability (28-30v):

 These words of Jesus, “come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” (28v) is an invitation to all people in the public sphere, irrespective of their identity. Jesus offers rest by giving his yoke which is easy and light, by taking restlessness of people on him. Jesus through this invitation was reversing the heavy liability that people carry with his own easy and light yoke by offering rest. The graciousness of this reversal is found in following Jesus who is humble and gentle and find rest in him. A yoke is a farming instrument, where two oxen are joined so that they share the burden equally and work in partnership with one another. Jesus in reversing this liability was offering himself to be in partnership with people who are carrying heavy burdens so that he shares in their heavy burdens and thereby offers some solace and rest in him. The liability is no longer carried by one person, but is carried together in companionship with Jesus who gives his easy and light yoke to the people, coming and taking his invitation of walking and working with him.

 

In the context of post-lock down, walking and working in partnership with Jesus by carrying and sharing the yoke together with him is a way forward for us. Jesus is willing to be a partner to us; the big question is: are we willing to be his partners in the work of God? In learning to be like Jesus, we as a church are called to walk and work with people in our community who are weary and carrying their burdens of loneliness, hunger, poverty, anxiety, so that we as a church become a space of offering hope and rest in this restless world. As church offering ourselves to be a partner to carry and share the burdens of weary people around us is a challenge in our reimagining as a relevant church for today.

 

With a gracious reversal of identity, agency and liability, our churches become new spaces, where we celebrate Christian presence in our communities unashamedly. On that note, I want to conclude my reflection with three distinct fellowships in Christ that Thomas recognises in his Risking Christ for Christ’s sake, which I think are relevant for us today. There is no hierarchy among these fellowships, and come as three different understandings of fellowships. Firstly, the koinonia (fellowship or communion) of those who acknowledge “the person of Jesus”; secondly, a fellowship of faiths that acknowledge “the pattern of suffering servant hood” exemplified in Jesus; and thirdly, a still larger fellowship of ideologies whose struggle for community is “informed by the agape of the cross.” In our reimagining church post-lockdown, we as church form to be one or more of these kinds of fellowships, complimenting with one another, so that we can offer public witness to the love of Christ to all the people in our community.

 

May the spirit of Jesus Christ be with each of us so that we are called to risk, to graciously reverse our identity, agency and liability and offer rest and hope to communities living in restlessness and hopelessness. Amen.

 

Rev. Dr. Raj Bharat Patta

2nd July 2020


Pic credit: Sieger Koder (2015) 

https://www.circleofhope.net/dailyprayerdeeper/2019/02/26/february-26-2019-the-church-is-the-visible-continuation-of-the-incarnation-in-history-2/

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