Perseverance Road - A West Coaster's reflection on the concept of disruption

 

You will find Perseverance Road in the rohe of Te Tai Poutini. The road has little meaning for most visitors, but it means a lot to Coasters. It is a road into hope, disruption and lost hope. It symbolises that ‘start again’ ‘she’ll be right’ attitude of the West Coast. It once led to a cluster of stamping batteries, which would crush the rocks coming down the awa of Inangahua in the search for gold. But Inangahua doesn’t carry yellow gold. It weaves its way through mountains which share in both te Ao Māori and te Ao Pākehā a story of mass disruption. Nga pae Paparoa once sat in Fiordland but journeyed north to its resting place of Kawatiri turning upside down on the way and exposing to the world the black gold of coal that was once buried deep within. It is this black gold that nga awa of Kawatiri are known for. This talk is a sharing of disruptions, from the perspective of a person from Kawatiri. It is a reflection of what matters most in times of disruption. Kawatiri, or Buller, is a landscape rich in disruption – from upside down maunga to last year’s floods, Pike River, Cave Creek, and the journeys of Little Biddy, Brunner and Kehu. It is through these stories that we learn the importance of keeping the flax seed protected, of understanding relationship matters and the importance of perseverance.

 

Tēnā koutou katoa

Ko Fiona tōku ingoa

He kawhakahaere mo te ako, me te auaha, me te rangahau mo te Kura Matatini o Whitireia me Te Whare Wāngana o te Awakairangi

He mihi nui ki a koutou te iti me te rahi

Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou tēnā tatau katoa

When you think about research what is it? Is it a bunch of white men in white lab coats lifting up test tubes to the light. Is it Indiana Jones, or Laura Croft, exploring exotic cultures and dehumanising the indigenous voice? Is it a bunch of nerds behind a computer playing with data? Is it the lonely philosopher sitting beside a fire, hair greying as they seek to explore the meaning of life?

You will note that the bulk of my questions will create a very western picture in your minds of research. And this is intentional. For too long we have framed research with a western lens. And within that lens a scientific understanding of truth. And as such, we have both limited research and limited the types of people that can engage with research. I want to disrupt this notion. 

You see, I want to argue that the essence of all research is storytelling. And not just any storytelling. It is the telling of truth stories. And an essential problem with the tradition of research and storytelling is that these stories include and exclude. I also want to argue that in the pursuit of a good story, that Te Pukenga sits in a very unique space and time in history. We sit on the edge of disruption. And it is at this edge that a disruption to truth and story telling can occur.

So, let’s start with a story.

Ko wai au?

Tēnā Koutou Katoa        
Nō Ingarangi tōku tūpuna mātua            
Kei Isle of Wright te Turangawaewae     
Ko Inchinnan, ko Mandarin, ko Oriental ōku waka

 

Ko Paparoa nga pae maunga te rū nei o taku ngākau      
Ko Kawatiri te awa e mahea nei aku māharahara                           
Ko Te Tai-o-Rehua te moana e whakamarie toku wairua
Nō Kawatiri ahau, terā tōku turangawaewae hou            
Ko Ngāti Apa ke te Waipounamu te iwi taketake (or mana whenua)

Ko Fiona tōku ingoa

Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou tēnā tatau katoa

My home has imprinted itself on my identity. For most New Zealanders, I come from the West Coast of the South Island. But on the Coast, I come from the mighty Buller. The home of Ngāti Apa ke te Waipounamu, gold seekers, coal miners, fishermen, hunters and people hardened by the elements. I grew up in a State House in the 1980s. And while I could share with you all a story about the 1980s, I will limit my story to just this. The conditions at home were not the best and I spent the bulk of my childhood hiding from the elements under the Buller Bridge. One of the only dry places in Westport on a cold and wet winter day.

The closest town to Westport was a smaller town called Reefton. On the odd occasion, we would journey to Reefton and each time a certain road sign would fascinate me. It pointed from the main road into nga pae Paparoa. Its name – Perseverance Road. As a kid I would imagine a raft of stories for the reasoning of the naming of the road. And most would resolve around a history of gold and coal. The road, itself, was named for a number of gold claims up into the ranges. None of the claims resulted in much gold – hence the name – perseverance. And the reality for some, no matter how hard you work, even with perseverance, you might not get your reward.

As soon as I could, I ran away from the Buller. Most school leavers from Westport end up in Christchurch, but I wanted nothing to do with my home town and ran up to Wellington. My aim was to go to Teachers’ College and change the lives of many children by teaching them what was not taught to me – how to sock it to the system.

It didn’t take me long to learn that schools were actually part of the problem. It also didn’t take me long to learn that there were many research stories – things called theories – and that these stories didn’t always have a place for me in them. One such story came from a theorist called Abraham Maslow. Maslow had devised a triangle to picture a what he called a hierarchy of needs.

At the base of the triangle was basic physiological needs – food, shelter and sex. Maslow argued that once these needs were fully met then safety and security needs could be met. Once this group of needs were met, then an individual could focus on belongingness and love. The tip of the pyramid was the need for self-actualisation.

Maslow’s theory just didn’t seem to make meaning of my life and his theory, therefore, might not have felt right for others in my class. But it was presented as Truth and as Truth we had to accept it and then apply it in our assignments and teacher practicums – if little Freda played up in class, it was because her basic needs weren’t being met. For myself, I spent much of my childhood not knowing if I was going to be sleeping in the house or under the bridge – but I felt that I had achieved other levels of the hierarchy. It just didn’t ‘feel’ right – oh yeah ‘right, feelings don’t matter in the science, and story, of one Truth.’

Later I would go onto complete a PhD with a poststructural application of theory to conceptions of youth crime. Without going too far here, in short, poststructural research looks at the history of language, words, meanings, theories and truths. It explores the whakapapa of concepts to unveil the effects of words, theories and truths today. What I learnt was the theories that underpin our understanding of youth crime have a whakapapa that draws upon racist knowledge. It shook me in a good way, I would never again accept the theories I had been taught as a teacher as Truth. I would see them for what they were – stories often created by bearded white men in Europe and America.

And while I could do the same to Maslow’s theory right here and now. I am not. Instead I am going to take an autobiograhical approach to disrupt his theory – I am going to tell a series of stories to suggest that his theory may not stand up as soundly as it appears to in a textbook of teaching and learning.

This story starts in my childhood and with my Grandfather. While, I may have had a hard childhood, I did have a grandfather who deeply cared and loved me. His approach to being a grandfather was storytelling. He would always mix fiction in with truth and our role would be to find the truth – if there was any. He had dated Cleopatra – who was a little strange as she insisted on milk baths. He had courted Florence Nightingale as well – but decided not to take the relationship any further as she was a bit obsessed with cleaning.

The one person that he didn’t date but he admired was Little Biddy. Little Biddy was just as her name suggests – little with the proper name of Bridget. She had come to the Buller in the late 1800s from Nelson. She lived a man’s life. She searched for gold in Lyell and then made her way to Reefton. She lived rough, not really having the shelter that Maslow insisted needed to be present. She also probably drunk more gin than ate food. But the people of the Buller loved her.

She died a pauper and the community of Inangahua rallied together to insist that she have a grave with a stone that meant that generations would remember this hardy woman who fought the elements, and the men, to make a life for herself. Little Biddy now has a gin named after her and her grave is kept clean by the people of the Inangahua district. Looking at Little Biddy’s life through Maslow, she didn’t even have her physiological needs meet. She had the perseverance of the road in which she would have wandered down once or twice, she had demonstrated long-term survival and found a place to belong in Inangahua. But Maslow doesn’t have a place for her in his pyramid. We can never say she realized her potential – but who are we and who is Maslow to say her life was a failure.  Little Biddy demonstrated how a community can come together in the disruption of the gold fields to remember and acknowledge someone special – someone who persevered and someone who had a place in a community of nobodies. I know to this day that Grandad shared this story as a point of encouragement so that I wouldn’t give up in a world that might seem against me at times.

Later I would find myself working at Granity School just north of Westport. Well not really working, as I was on Taskforce Green. Taskforce Green was a scheme in the 1990s by the government to get people at risk of long-term unemployment into work. So, I was at Granity School answering the phone and the 3pm news came on the radio. It was April 28 in 1995. A platform had collapsed in nga pae Paparoa at Cave Creek. There were causalities and the emergency services were struggling to get to the site. We had no rescue helicopters on the Coast. It would take two hours for the first emergency responder to get to the site.

Names would be released later that day, what was known then was that the affected groups were from Tai Poutini Polytechnic. The town of Westport knew at this point and time that we would be affected.  At that single point of disruption, we all knew that we were connected, affected and involved. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs fell out the door. Our disruption shook us to our core – our core cried for connection, a need not found on his hierarchy.

The bush telegraph, or gossip line, was going quickly. Our first call out wasn’t for the physiological needs but the call to connect to know what had happened, to grieve and find answers. Soon after Task Force Green stopped as a scheme. No one ever said why, but we knew in Westport that the platform had been built through this scheme with no expertise and no understanding of cliff dynamics. Cave Creek sits heavy on the shoulders of the community in Westport even today.

And I want to emphasize this. The story Maslow created was not a story for understanding our response to the needs that arose from the horrors of Cave Creek. This would be reverberated even further as my own story developed another chapter.

It was soon after Cave Creek that I moved to Wellington. And a few years later, another event and another disruption. Soon after miners were rescued from a gold mine in Chile, we had our own massive mine disaster. The disruption of the event brought it home. My hubby and I were eating out with a friend on Friday November 19, 2010.  I got a text message from the NZ Police – there had been an explosion at Pike River. Our friend not being from the Coast was – oh it will be okay. But my husband and I knew that it wasn’t okay. We had many family and friends connected to the mining communities of the Buller. We knew that Pike River came with danger pay for a reason. Some of our family had started to work there because it gave the highest wages on the Coast. This was the danger pay of Pike River.

We finished the meal quickly and as we were driving home, we madly texted and rung all of our family connected to Pike. No one was answering. Saturday came, names were not released. No one was answering our calls. We were becoming worried. Sunday came and some names were released. The phone was answered, our family had been staying with those families whose men did not come home. Their instant reaction did not align with Maslow; their instant reaction was to provide connection, comfort and spiritual safety. While we did not lose immediate family that day, we did lose family.

We also saw the need for connection was much deeper than story-tellers like Maslow could see. We went back home to the Coast for Christmas and joined our community in the Christmas Parade. That year, 2010, it was not a parade of celebration. Instead, we all wore ribbons of yellow and yellow ribbons covered lamp-posts, doors and windows. We wore a colour of hope for our men to come home. They never would and  never will. Nga pae Paparoa have claimed them home, but in that moment of the Christmas parade we learnt in moments of disruption, connection is so much more real.

But this takes me to my final story, a story that suggests that Maslow missed something further with his story of human need and the lack of connection present. July 19 2021, I was at work when I got the message that Westport, Kawatiri, the town and river I was most connected to was in a red alert. I said to my team as I left the office Te Awa Kawatiri can take a good flood. A quick look on Wikipedia will tell you that the river claims the highest flood flow in Aotearoa. But my grandad’s words were echoing in my head as I said to my team – it is not the Te Awa Kawatiri we have to worry about, it is Te Awa Orowaiti, the Orowaiti River. If that river breaks its banks the town would be in trouble. This is a message that my grandfather gave me all my childhood. The Orowaiti serves as an overflow for the Buller river, and it had not been looked after all cared for by the community. Grandad was aware that awa are living and if they are not cared for they will speak.

And my grandfather was right. There was some flooding on the Friday night. I rung my mother that Saturday, mum lived in the middle of town. She was fine. The rain was heavy, but flooding in Westport does not come from the rain on the town but on the rainfall in the St Arnaud Range and the flow coming into the river from Lake Rotoiti. By lunchtime Saturday, the lake was in full flood.

Then the news hit, the Orowaiti was rising. By 1pm the Orowaiti, a small estuary river was swallowing up Westport from behind. By 3pm mum’s little rented flat was completely flooded. We stayed connected all through this time. And Maslow was right, mum need flood and shelter – but again he missed that important aspect of connection.

In the following weeks I returned home. Westport, even now, is not the same. The beauty of the town is still there but for many living there, and for myself, the connection to the land between the two rivers is broken. Every time it rains, fear enters the air. My mum’s little flat has since flooded again and she has moved away from Westport. Maslow never really understood the depths of connection and how over time as we journey down Perseverance Road, connection deepens branching out to people, relationships, time, space and place.

At the end of the day, the act of research, is an act of story-telling. Often some stories are seen as more valid than others, and it is in these moments of disruption that we can question their validity.

And what does that mean for us? I want to suggest that connection is even more important now as we occupy a space and time in which disruption, no disruptions, are so much more evident. Not only can connection enable us to navigate and find our ways through disruptions, connection can help us see our role in the disruption and connection can help us tell another story.

In the disruption of climate change, connection serves as this two edged perspective. It is the reality that we are all engaged in little things that feed into a warming environment that is heating the planet and tit is a reality that each one of us can do something to slow that warming down. Each action connected can have a massive global response.

In the disruption of covid-19, we have all experienced the need for connection. Whether it be the experience of lock-down or isolation or tiredness of the novelty-worn-off of Zoom and Mircosoft Teams classes, many of us have carved opportunities for authentic kanohi-e-te-kanohi conversations. Some would even argue that the covid tiredness that is affecting workplaces like our own is simply due to the intense thinking that has had to go into how to keep connections going when disruption is oh so well.

And for most of us here, there is the reality of 2023 and the months coming up to January as each of our workplaces find a disruptive change to becoming one with Te Pūkenga. Now, hear me here, I am not saying that disruption is bad; rather any form of change does bring disruption and when that change comes with uncertainty then the disruption does bring uncertainty.

So what does this opportunity of disruption bring? Well, I would like to suggest that it brings one thing but necessitates another. It does bring one thing, and that is the disruptive opportunity to write a different research story, with different writers, voices, and people. The beauty of this time in history is that the birth of Te Pūkenga comes in a context of greater change. Not only is vocational education changing but the recognition of key research funding sources – the PBRF and a variety of other MBIE mechanisms are changing. These changes are, on the surface, intentionally bringing Te Tiriti o Waitangi to effect, enabling and recongising rangahau, decolonizing methodologies (and stories), and privileging voices that have previously been suppressed. And while the intention of all this, at this point, is on paper. We have an opportunity as Tangata Whēnua and Tangata te Tiriti to come together to enable and enact the intentions of this movement.

This can only happen if the necessity within this disruption is met. And, hopefully, now you will know that in talking needs, I am not taking my source being first Maslow, but rather the lessons I have had along my own Perseverance Road, that of connection. There is an important whakatauki which is often reduced to the last sentences, but says so much more up front. It is the same whakatauki that underpins the operating model of Te Pūkenga:

Hūtia te rito o te harakeke, kei whea te torimako e kō? Ka rere ki uta, ka rere ki tai     
Kī mai koe ki au, he aha mea nui o te ao?            
Māku e kī atu,  
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata

If you pluck out the centre shoot flax, where will the bellbird sing? It will fly inland, it will fly seawards. If you ask me, what is the most important thing in the world? I will reply, it is people, it is people, it is people.

For Te Pūkenga ākonga and their whānau are at the heart of the operating model. They are te rito, the centre short of the harakeke, the flax bush. I would like to suggest though that if this whakatauki represents Te Pūkenga, then the remainder of the harakeke leaves are the kaimahi. It our these leaves that protect te rito. The important thing here is that we are all connected.

In the journey along our Perseverance Road, we don’t have a guarantee of finding gold at the end, but we do have an opportunity, we have an opportunity to connect, we have an opportunity to seize the disruption and begin to enable other stories to come to the table. Stories, which will, in themselves enable a disruption of sorts to occur. Stories, which will not just question the mainstream stories of yesterday, but create an opening of hope for the stories that will come tomorrow.

No rei ra

Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā tatou katoa

 

 

 

Dynasties: Help Me Rhonda

 

Every great story needs a hero. And to make the story even greater, every great story needs an antihero. Maybe not a pure villain, but someone who is out to make it on their own; own the world and have the most power, wealth and notoriety. We see heroes and antiheroes all through our popular culture – where would Superman be without Lex Luther, Skywalker without Darth Vader, Aslan without the White Witch, the Smurfs without Gargamel, Toothless without Grimmel the Grisly? We even see them in our Bible, where would the story of Exodus and Moses be without the Pharoah, Elijah without Jezebel, Daniel without Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar, Darius and Cyrus and Jesus without…

Well, I guess here, logically you would guess and say Satan ... but is he the only antihero talked about all through the gospels and into Acts?

What I am going to suggest that there is another family of anti-heroes in the Jesus story.  A family that also features in the story of Acts. A family whose evil intent shows up around the festival of the Passover. A family that loves to follow the Roman tradition of calling itself gods and beheading an enemy or two. That family is the family of Herod. Today, we are going to learn about Dynasties and the importance of answering the door – Help Me Rhonda is more than a song.

We are doing this so that the reality of Acts becomes so much more richer to us. The reality and the story of Acts sits in a historical context. We learn though Acts that the church at its best is a witness to the Gospel. We also learn that, even the church in this context, finds it hard to recognise a miracle when the world around it just wants to take off its head.  

Let’s start with Herod. Now, we need to not be confused here. There are many Herods in the Bible.

So, it is easy to be confused. King Herod the Great was indeed a very great and busy man. He had to be. He had ten wives and many many sons. One of these wives was intent on killing him and had a mother-in-law straight out of the television series Game of Thrones who loved to twist the innocent minds of her great children. This mother-in-law also schemed to kill the great king, with her friend Cleopatra. Yes, the Cleopatra of bathing in milk fame.  And yes, Herod’s eldest sons got caught up in the plot and soon lost their heads – both figuratively and literally.

King Herod the Great had his title gifted to him by Antony, Cleopatra’s lover and the land was gifted by Cassius and Brutus – yes the Cassius and Brutus who killed Julius Caesar. Jesus and the early Church were firmly planted in the great Roman Empire of our history books.

King Herod’s children would be gifted the regal name of Herod and thus King Herod had many sons, and those that sat in power carried the name Herod as well. That’s where the confusion falls in. Some scholars say that there could be up to five Herods in the Bible. But today we are going to focus on three, Herod the Great, his son Herod Antipas and his grandson to another wife, Herod Agrippa.

Herod Antipas was the son of Herod the Great to his fourth wife. We first see this great antihero in the Gospel of Mathew. It is back in Mathew 14. Herod’s brother Philip, also known as Herod, has a wife, Herodias (I wonder where she got that name). Herodias dances for Herod and gratifies him so much, that he, being the good Greek ruler pledges to give her heart’s desire. She, being of the name Herod, asks for the head of John the Baptist on a plate. Herod instantly serves this up.

And this is not children’s story. This is how Grecco-Roman rule worked back in the day. We also learn in Mark 6 and Luke 9 that Herod ruled out of his own fear as well. Like a typical tyrant, he knew that his power was limited. Just as Caesar Augustus saw himself as a God in Rome, Herod was his own God over Israel and all other gods had to be tested. So, when Herod hears about the miracles of Jesus, his instant reaction was – but I killed John the Baptist. How can John the Baptist come back from the dead?

As we know, John the Baptist didn’t come back from the dead – but Jesus would. Even after Herod Antipus and Pilate condemned him to death during the holiest of Jewish festivals – the passover.

By the time Acts 12 comes onto the scene, Herod Antipas has been exiled and, in his place, the grandson of Herod the Great, Herod Agrippa is now ruling. Agrippa was not the son of Antipas but the son of one the sons that Herod the Great executed. Agrippa was raised in exile in Rome in the imperial court. He would become close friends with Claudius, another Roman Emperor. The reality is the Herod family do not just have a history connected with Israel but pretty much can name drop every famous Roman leader around the time of Jesus and Acts.

We get to meet our antihero Agrippa at another Passover festival in Acts 12. And both his grandfather and uncle would be so proud of him as he has continued in the family tradition of power, violence and wealth:

That's when King Herod got it into his head to go after some of the church members. He murdered James, John's brother. When he saw how much it raised his popularity ratings with the Jews, he arrested Peter--all this during Passover Week, mind you-- and had him thrown in jail, putting four squads of four soldiers each to guard him. He was planning a public lynching after Passover.

All the time that Peter was under heavy guard in the jailhouse, the church prayed for him most strenuously. Then the time came for Herod to bring him out for the kill.

That night, even though shackled to two soldiers, one on either side, Peter slept like a baby. And there were guards at the door keeping their eyes on the place. Herod was taking no chances!

Suddenly there was an angel at his side and light flooding the room. The angel shook Peter and got him up: "Hurry!" The handcuffs fell off his wrists. The angel said, "Get dressed. Put on your shoes." Peter did it. Then, "Grab your coat and let's get out of here." Peter followed him, but didn't believe it was really an angel--he thought he was dreaming.

Past the first guard and then the second, they came to the iron gate that led into the city. It swung open before them on its own, and they were out on the street, free as the breeze. At the first intersection the angel left him, going his own way.

That's when Peter realized it was no dream. "I can't believe it--this really happened! The Master sent his angel and rescued me from Herod's vicious little production and the spectacle the Jewish mob was looking forward to."

Still shaking his head, amazed, he went to Mary's house, the Mary who was John Mark's mother. The house was packed with praying friends. When he knocked on the door to the courtyard, a young woman named Rhoda came to see who it was.

But when she recognized his voice--Peter's voice!--she was so excited and eager to tell everyone Peter was there that she forgot to open the door and left him standing in the street. But they wouldn't believe her, dismissing her, dismissing her report. "You're crazy," they said. She stuck by her story, insisting. They still wouldn't believe her and said, "It must be his angel."

All this time poor Peter was standing out in the street, knocking away. Finally they opened up and saw him--and went wild! Peter put his hands up and calmed them down. He described how the Master had gotten him out of jail, then said, "Tell James and the brothers what's happened."

He left them and went off to another place. At daybreak the jail was in an uproar. "Where is Peter? What's happened to Peter?"

When Herod sent for him and they could neither produce him nor explain why not, he ordered their execution: "Off with their heads!"

Fed up with Judea and Jews, he went for a vacation to Caesarea. But things went from bad to worse for Herod. Now people from Tyre and Sidon put him on the warpath. But they got Blastus, King Herod's right-hand man, to put in a good word for them and got a delegation together to iron things out. Because they were dependent on Judea for food supplies, they couldn't afford to let this go on too long.

On the day set for their meeting, Herod, robed in pomposity, took his place on the throne and regaled them with a lot of hot air. The people played their part to the hilt and shouted flatteries: "The voice of God! The voice of God!"

That was the last straw. God had had enough of Herod's arrogance and sent an angel to strike him down. Herod had given God no credit for anything.

Down he went. Rotten to the core, a maggoty old man if there ever was one, he died.

Meanwhile, the ministry of God's Word grew by leaps and bounds. Barnabas and Saul, once they had delivered the relief offering to the church in Jerusalem, went back to Antioch. This time they took John with them, the one they called Mark.

(Acts 12:1-25)

Often when we read Acts, we focus on the miracles. We focus on the extraordinary in the times of the ordinary. But I want to posit two things. Another way to read Acts is to focus on the world in which the church lived. And added to this, another way to read Acts is to look at how the church itself responds to the extraordinary Acts of the Holy Spirit. Reading Acts like this enables us and empowers us to reflect on how we are responding to our own world around us today and how we accept or reject the Acts of God in our presence.

Acts 12 is so powerful for this, some commentators talk about it being a humorous moment in a serious story. I want to suggest that Acts 12 is a serious reflection of the world in which the early church lived. I also want to suggest that the whole book of Acts is a challenge to us on how we ourselves respond to the world of today.

We have already been introduced to the family of Herod. We have focused on three Herods but also found another couple along the way. And Paul later would encounter the last of the Herod rulers. But if we really want to know about the world that the church of Acts encountered we have to have a firm understanding of the Grecco-Roman world in which this church was located.

As a western Christian church, I think we have done some serious damage to our Bible over the centuries. What is this? I believe we have sanitised it. We have been so keen that our Bible is accessible to children, we have removed the gruesome details from it. When we do this, we decontextualise the Bible. While we see the message in Acts as one of miracles and God with Us, we fail to see the ‘in what’ of God with Us. God with Us – in what? In the context of Acts, it is God with Us in the brutal reality of Herodian rule in a Roman Empire.

This is incredibly important. Herod the Great, his sons and grandsons ruled out of fear. Herod the Great had married into the Hasmonean family. The Hasmonean family were a Jewish family who were instrumental in freeing Judea from Seleucid rule through pure violence. They served as high priests, governors and kings until Roman occupation. Herod the Great and the dynasties that followed wanted to secure their claim to their Jewish heritage, but they also wanted to claim their Roman titles. Each generation of Herods sought to do both by pleasing both Rome and in particular the Sadducees; the aristocratic families, priests and merchants of Judea.

This is why there is so much violence and infighting in the family. And the violence was real. It was horrific and it was the context of the early church in Acts. Herod Agrippa had already murdered James, the brother of John when we get to Acts 12. And now Herod was after Peter.

Added to this, there is another factor at play in the early church. You see, as far as Rome was concerned. Christians were atheists; they were non-believers in the Roman pantheon, nor did they worship the Imperial cult of Ancient Rome.  Christians worshiped a God outside of the Roman tradition and they did not recognise Caesar as a God. Christians were seen as a threat to Roman rule because of this and, for the Jews, they were a threat to tradition.

From the time of Herod the Great to Herod Agrippa, one thing was very clear to their maintenance of power – kill the Christians and please both Rome and the local Jewish community. Please both, and your throne will be maintained. Kill the Christians and your power will be declared to the world. We see this here in Acts 12, Agrippa sees that he pleases the Jews, so he is even more determined to have Peter’s head on a plate.

Now put this miracle here in this context. Put the whole of the books of Acts here in this context and what do we learn? Some have said that a key message can be that the church is at its best in times of persecution. I want to add something more here. What we learn from Acts is the response of the church to brutal rule. What we learn from Acts is how we should respond to worldly powers.

What we learn is this. At a time of high persecution in Acts. What did the church do? Did it protest? Did it attempt to take all operations completely underground? Did it die out? Did it speak into the persecution? Did it cry out for peace? Did it fight? Did it pray against the rulers of the time? Did it speak up against the Jewish leaders?

The learning we can take from Acts, is that it did none of these things. The church merely did one thing. It was a witness to the Gospel, to the love of God and to the sacrifice that we are called to be for each other.

So the question to us is – are we a witness today? And this is not a question for us as individuals but for us here as a church. As Wainuiomata Baptist Church are we a witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the love of God and the sacrifice that we are called to be for each other?

I don’t think the answer is a complete no, but I also don’t think that the answer is a complete yes. Why is this? Well if it was a complete yes, I think we would find our conversations being very different, our actions being very different and our response to our own world completely different.

I personally think we would find ourselves talking more and more about the grace and mercy of Jesus Christ, rather that our stance on national or global positions. I think we would find ourselves just wanting to fellowship more and more. I think collectively we would find ourselves on our knees in prayer more and more. I think we would be seeking more and more together opportunities to witness to Jesus Christ rather than share our own opinion.

What we learn from the church of Acts, is a healthy church is not of the world. Nor does it respond to the events of the world in predictable ways. A healthy church is a witness to the testimony and victory of the cross. Afterall, what turns the ordinary into the extraordinary, it is the presence of the Holy Spirit, the counsel of the Holy Spirit and the freedom of the Holy Spirit.

A contemporary example comes from a testimony captured in the secular magazine, the New Zealand Geographic. The reporters are capturing what is happening on lifeboats in Whakaari/White Island eruption. Remember, we, as a church, are called to be a witness, this is more than just a response, it is to be light in the darkness of our world:

Those who had sustained the worst burns had been placed at the front of the vessel, and two doctors had stepped forward from among the passengers to tend to them—a general practitioner on holiday from the United Kingdom, and another from Germany. Geoff Hopkins, a pastor at Arise church in Hamilton with a St John certificate, provided assistance.

His daughter, Lillani, was at the back of the vessel with the other victims, doing her best to stave off hypothermia and shock. She found herself singing the evangelical song “Waymaker”:

You are here, moving in our midst… You are here, working in this place… You are here, healing every heart…

And if she stopped there’d be a touch on her leg, and a whisper: “Keep singing.”

Church, are you prepared to be a witness to the cross rather than a mere response to the things that are happening around you? And are you prepared to recognise the extraordinary or the Spirit when it happens. You see the core message of Acts is to be witness to the Gospel and respond, not to the world, but to the call of the Holy Spirit.

I mentioned when I started this message that it was called – Dynasties: Help Me Rhonda. I did this because of another character in this chapter – the young woman, Rhonda. We don’t know much about her but what we do know is that her fame is her response to her excitement of realising that Peter had been released – she forgot to open the door. Imagine meeting Rhonda in Heaven, what would you say … oh you are the dipsy teenager who forgot to open the door? But I also think the praying friends were just as dipsy as they kept questioning Rhonda, praying for a miracle while, all the time, it was knocking on their door.

Church, how do we respond to miracles, how do we respond to the extraordinary of the Holy Spirit? Do we keep praying for a miracle witness of the Gospel truth while it is right there occurring before us? Do we get so excited that a miracle has occurred without stepping into the miracle and opening the door? I could do a whole sermon on Rhonda but in summary, I think it is fair to say that there are times that our excitement of what is possible keeps the door shut because we have failed to act.

There are two verses in the New Testament that refer to someone knocking on a door and the response to that knocking. Both refer to the church response and unfortunately one is often misquoted to refer to the response of the lost. Church, open your eyes, tune into your ears, are we as one prepared to open the door and let the extraordinary in – to let Jesus in and the counsel of his Holy Spirit. Church when Christ is knocking at our door – what is our response?

You see by the end of the Chapter, Herod Agrippa would be dead. He saw himself as an equal to the God of the Christians and the Message captures this so well:

That was the last straw. God had had enough of Herod's arrogance and sent an angel to strike him down. Herod had given God no credit for anything.

Down he went. Rotten to the core, a maggoty old man if there ever was one, he died.

Meanwhile, the church witnessed continually to the Gospel message. And the ordinary was turned into the extraordinary.  Are we prepared to be that witness? But then added to this, are we prepared to respond to the Holy Spirit when it knocks on our door and the extraordinary has occurred?

The Herod family were obsessed with beheading all of its enemies. The family never realised one truth – the head of the Church is Jesus Christ. And you can kill him, you can hang him on a cross but and shut him away in a tomb, but he has overcome death. He has conquered the grave. He is our hero. He is our saviour. He is our God, and he is the call to our witness to the world and we will respond to that call and be counselled by the Holy Spirit.

Then Jesus came to them and said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."

(Mat 28:18-20)

 

Ko wai koe? Who are you?

 

As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem. And he sent messengers on ahead, who went into a Samaritan village to get things ready for him; but the people there did not welcome him, because he was heading for Jerusalem. When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, "Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?" But Jesus turned and rebuked them. Then he and his disciples went to another village.

(Luk 9:51-56 TNIV)

Ko wai koe? Who are you? It is such an important question. Simply, asking a person who they are is more than just asking for their name, it is asking for their story. And, today I am going to tell you a story – a story that will put these verses into context. A story that does not come with a three point sermon, but a story with a deep meaning. Do not call judgement on a people because they don’t think like you. Do not even presume you are right because you know Christ. Instead, get to know people. Get to know their stories and realise sometimes you have to grow as well and sometimes the rejection you have experienced has a connection to your own deeper story.

So, who am I? Ko wai au?

Today, I am not going to speak to you as Fiona. Even though I am. I am going to put myself into the shoes of the Samaritan village. I come to you as a woman from that village who was there when the messengers of Jesus rocked up and demanded a place to stay. I was there when the Sons of Thunder, the disciples, James and John wanted to call fire down from Heaven to destroy us. And, you know what, no one asked us for our story, our version of the events. So, I am here to give you a deeper story.

Ko wai au? Who am I.

I was born in Samaria about 20 years after the big Earthquake in 31BCE. King Herold’s great temple Augusteum had been completed and our people were still hated by the Jews. This hatred went back centuries. You see my people, the Samaritan people, have strong connections with the Jews. In fact, they are our direct relatives. Our people come from the line of Abraham and Jacob.

But our family line broke after the death of King Solomon. Solomon had not treated us Northern tribes well and when his son Rehoboam became King, our people sent up Jeroboam (you can read about this in the book of 1 Kings) from Exile in Egypt. Jeroboam cried out for justice for our people, Rehoboam refused. And from that point, David’s Kingdom broke into two – the Kingdom of Israel and the Kingdom of Judah. We each had our own Kings and we hated each other.

Things got worse after the Assyrian conquest. Our cities were plundered and our menfolk were taken away. Our women were forced to intermarry with the Assyrian victors; we were raped, beaten and made to bear their children. The purity of our bloodline was broken. It is true, we deserved a bit of a shake up. We had lost our way with Yahweh, years of corrupt Kings leading to the infamous Ahab and Jezebel meant, as Elijah warned us, Yahweh would take his zealous anger out on us. And, I have heard, that some of you Christians struggle with the Old Testament because it does talk about the zealous anger of God. But it is zealous for a reason – you see the story of my people, the Samaritans, is not one of God turning his back on us – it is a story of us, being chosen for a purpose, turning our back on God. His zealous anger was one of love for the world.

And, it was a warning to the Kingdom of Judah as well. And they would experience the zealous anger of Yahweh. Later, under the Babylonian conquest, Jerusalem would fall and they, the Jews, would be taken into exile into Babylon. Nebachadrezzer would be a man of his word. Our cities fell as well. But we rebuilt them. And then the Jews returned. And the way that they treated us. You wouldn’t believe it.

We were the ones that stayed behind. We rebuilt the cities. Then they came back. They had a letter from King Artaxerxes saying that they had permission to take trees from our forests and that the land was theirs – can you believe it? Our governor at the time, Sanballat, was horrified. His reaction was to stand up for us – he wrote a letter back to the King. And we were ignored. It only made the situation worse.

Your book of Nehemiah explains this situation – but again it is from the side of the Jews. It doesn’t give you our story. But you know people hate you when they call you “enemies” in their history books. And Nehemiah does this, he doesn’t call us brothers, he calls us enemies. And okay. I am not trying to get you to side with me. But just to understand our history goes deep. Jacob had 12 sons – only three of those sons make up the Jewish people.

The other nine, make up Samaria. And yes, we went astray but that doesn’t mean that the sons of Judah, Benjamin and Levi were perfect – far from it. Not only were we a nation divided – we were brothers divided, a family broken and divided with hate.

You see if you want to know my people – the blood runs deep, the hurt is real and it was real when the Messiah walked the Earth. The Jews would spit upon us on the streets. They would cross the road. They refused to marry our people. They shut us out of the Temple in Jerusalem. Those of us lucky enough to convert to Judaism found ourselves locked in the outer courts with the Gentiles. Can you imagine that – we whakapapa to Jacob but we are not Jewish enough to be a descendent of Abraham – it doesn’t make sense I know. But the hate was real.

So real that Jesus would use our people in a famous story about love. You call the story the Good Samaritan. If I was to give you a title to make that story seem like it was meant to be today it would be called the story of the Good Enemy. There is no way a Jew would describe us as “good” – just think, back in Nehemiah’s day we were “enemies” – how can an enemy be good? It is just not possible. But Jesus used us to drive a point home, do not judge a people because of the colour of their skin or where they are in life. Do not judge a people if they have gone off the rails at some point and started worshipping false Gods. Do not think yourself perfect because you have the answers.

Do not judge and do not think you are perfect. After all you are learning, and you might just learn from the people you call enemies. You just might learn how to love, and you might find them demonstrating what it is to be a neighbour to someone in need.

That’s the back story of my people. That’s why we didn’t open up our houses with open arms for Jesus, his disciples and all the other people who were following them to Jerusalem. But even with this back story there is a little more to the picture.

Your scriptures capture this story perfectly. Jesus was on the way to Jerusalem. Messengers went ahead to prepare the way for him. They rocked up to our village. And do you think they even bothered to ask who we were? No, as far as they were concerned, we were nothing but despicable Samaritans. So, they rushed in with their message. Jesus had told them he was going to die. Jesus is the son of God and has to get to the Temple in Jerusalem. We must give him a bed.

There was no – ko wai koe. There was no – who are you. It was all – this is us, this is our message, you must accept it. There was no connection attempted and with a history of disconnection this is so so important.

So, if I can tell you anything – if you have a message, if you have good news. Ko wai koe – who are you? Get to know the people you are sharing it with. Get to know them deeply. Make a real connection. Just don’t rock on up and say – do I have a message for you. Instead, rock on up and say Ko wai koe? Who are you? And mean the question when you ask it. Don’t drive to your answer and merely ask Ko wai koe, who are you, because you have a hidden agenda; you want something, you want to share your news, your opinion, and once you have shared it, it is journey finished, connection broken again. Ko wai koe, who are you, ko wai au, who am I – get to really know the people outside of your life. Journey with people, take the challenge and try to get to know people you don’t know, people who challenge you. But remember, when you do; you are starting a journey, not finishing it.

After all, you might have the good news – but you also might be still learning it in your walk every day.

This happened to the Sons of Thunder – James and John. You heard how they reacted when they heard that we had not offered them a bed. Their response was to ask if they should call down fire from heaven. Hopefully, you understand with me sharing with you the back-story why their reaction was like it was. I didn’t blame them – for me I just went – typical Jew – all prepared to talk a why of love but not prepared to walk it.

You know I bet that there are times that you are like that, even being a Christian, it is easier to talk about a life of love. It is so much easier than demonstrating to others what I life of love looks like.

I have been looking at some of your message boards, you call something “Facebook”. I don’t get why it is called “Facebook”. It is not a book and you really can’t see the face of the other on a device. You really can’t commit to a journey with people on a device but so many of you try to.

But I have been looking at some of the posts of Christians. Talk about calling down fire from heaven. There are curses on parliament, on gay people, on abortion supporters. It is so funny, you will see someone’s Facebook and there are heaps of God Loves You Memes and in amongst the Memes, the pictures of flowers and scriptures, are “Some Leader is Going to Hell” – talk about walking a life and way of love. Christians can be so much like the Sons of Thunder – react quickly with condemnation rather than love.

This is so James and John. But the Sons of Thunder like you all also have a deeper story. They learnt from their saviour. Soon after the accession of Jesus into Heaven, Phillip came to Samaria. He came and briefly lived among us. He prayed for many of us, and miracles occurred in our cities. He lived a life of love among us. There was great joy in our city. You can read about this in your book of Acts.

He even convinced Simon the sorcerer of the healing power of the Savior Jesus Christ. To convince Simon – wow – it was huge. Simon himself had healing gifts. Simon felt that he had access to a special spirit, something he called “great power,” but he followed Phillip around. And Phillip, he didn’t condemn Simon, he didn’t tell Simon he was going to Hell. No, Phillip just loved Simon and shared with him the good news of the Cross and the healing and restoration of the gospel message. Phillip journeyed with Simon and Simon saw Christ in this journey.

Phillip started with ko wai koe – who are you. And once a deep relationship started, he moved into Ko wai te Karaiti?, who is Christ? James and John witnessed all of this, along with the other disciples, and as a result, Peter and John journeyed to Samaria to help Phillip. They too developed a relationship with Simon. But also, and it really hit us how things changed, John no longer saw us as Samaritans, as people to condemn, as enemies and outsiders to the line of Abraham. John, one of the Sons of Thunder, saw us as brothers. It was massive. It had its own healing.

And because we were no longer seen as outsiders. Because Simon was no longer seen as an outsider. John and Peter could eat at the same table as Simon. And it happened – Jew and Samaritan at the same table. Jew and Samaritan breaking bread together. Jew and Samaritan worshipping God together. And I was there at that table, when Simon asked for the power of the Holy Spirit, and Peter and John corrected him. I was there. The correction was real – Simon was prepared to give money for the Holy Spirit. Peter and John corrected him and told him that his heart was not in the right place. They didn’t call fire down from heaven. They just got to know Simon and found that they could then speak to his heart. I was there when Simon burst into tears and asked for prayer. I was there when the hands of Peter and John were laid on Simon and they prayed for him. It was a prayer of love, the tears of Simon were real, the love was real and the healing was real.

 

After that, Peter and John had such a connection with our people they found themselves welcomed throughout all of Samaria. They got to know us and they spoke to us out of love. They realized that we were not their enemy, and that the real enemy was their reaction to us when they wanted to call fire down from heaven. They brought themselves into check and got to know us.

This was huge for us. It was the beginning of real healing for many of our people. And it totally makes sense. In Acts 1:8, Jesus said

But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

There are three places mentioned in these verses before the good news reaches the ends of the earth. There is Jerusalem, the holy city, the place of the Jewish temple. Then there is Judea, the homelands of the Jews, homelands to tribes that represented three of Jacob’s sons. And then there is Samaria, the other nine sons. The gospel message, the good news of the son, first brought healing to the family of Jacob. It brought restoration. It enabled my people to come back to their God. And from that restoration, the line of Abraham could fulfill their call and be a blessing for all nations.

Oh, I’m sorry, Ko wai au? Who am I?

I’m so sorry, I have been so caught up in telling you the story of my people that I forgot to tell you my story. Ko wai au? Who am I?

I am a Samaritan woman, yes. I have no family and no husband. I have had to fend for myself in these rough times. But I met this Jesus personally. It was something I never thought would happen. You see Jesus may not have stayed in Samaria on the nights before his death, but he did stay in Samaria in other times. And it was one of these times in which I had an encounter with him. And it was profound.

You see I had to get water one day from a local well. It wasn’t any local well. It was a very important well. We called it Jacob’s well. It was the well that Jacob had given Joseph. It connected us with our whakapapa. It was special. It was on our mountain of worship. While the Jews worshipped their God in Jerusalem, we worshipped our God here – at the site of the gifting of a well from a father to a son.

And while I was there, I met him. Jesus. He asked me for water, and I looked at him. I had to point out to him that I was his enemy, a Samaritan, he was a Jew.

I had to tell him that Jews and Samaritans do not associate with each other. He then shared with me about the gift of living water. I so wanted to know more about it. Jesus was so ko wai koe, who are you, in his discussion with me. He asked me to go back and get my husband. I said I had none and he affirmed this. But he also affirmed that I slept with many men and that this would need to change.

He spoke out of love when he said that the God we worshipped was not Yahweh and that change was coming. That there would be a time where people would worship in Spirit and Truth. I talked with him about the Messiah and he told me – I am the Messiah. I got to meet the Messiah personally. It was so life-changing for me. When his disciples found him they told him that he should have nothing to do with us Samaritans. He corrected them out of love.

I got to meet him personally. I went back home telling everyone about him. And my people flocked to him, to see the Christ, to meet the Messiah.

Ko wai au, who am I.

I am the Samaritan women, a sinner, an outsider.

I was there at the well.

I met the Christ.

I was there when messengers came and we sent them away.

I was there when the Sons of Thunder wanted to call down fire.

I was there when the Christ, told them that this is not the way of love.

I was there when Phillip came to know us.

I was there when Simon left his ways of sorcery.

I was at the Table when Peter and John corrected Simon in love.

I was at the Table when Simon wept and Peter and John prayed.

I was part of the story, part of the journey.

 

I have been told that I must give you a sermon. I must give you points to take away. I have given you a story. I hope that you have been able to get points from my story. But I know your gospel message because someone I considered an enemy, showed me love. I got to know your Christ because a follower of Christ got to know me.

I got to know your story because the disciples learnt from their mistake the night they asked for a bed and were rejected. The disciples learnt a simple thing – if you have been called to live a life of love, live it, don’t judge others, love others and know that there will be times that you will muck up. It’s okay because even your own faith is a growing journey, a developing story. What matters is that you are growing and developing.

Ko wai koe? Who are you?

Ko wai au? Who am I?

Connection with others starts with a simple question

Ko wai koe? Who are you?

Ko wai au? Who am I?

Bringing Fake News into the Gospel

 

We all have it. All of us. That desire for something more. That desire to not trust one source alone but to look to others. That desire to think that it is too good to be true. We all have the desire to believe in the unbelievable even when the unbelievable is nothing but fake news.

In all of this, we need to know one thing – the gospel, the good news, is not fake news being brought into this world, but our insatiable desire for some more means that all of us, at times, risk bringing fake news into the gospel. When we do this the good is lost in all of us.

And while the words “fake news” only really entered our vocabulary in the last seven years, the reality is, the desire to believe that there is more to the gospel story than the simplicity that is the gospel. A God who loved us so much he gave his only son to live amongst us, to die for us, to rise again and to ascend to Heaven to sit with the Father; all this, so that we could have a relationship with a Father God. It is a simple gospel – all you have to do is believe – but we want to think that we must have to do more, do something different. And this desire, the desire to find what is more to this story, has meant the good news has been tainted with fake news time and time again. And we are not immune from bringing our own fake news into the Gospel even today.

Paul wrestles with this throughout his letters. And often the fake news, Paul wrestles with are when the cultural views of the day or the cultural rituals of a group are pushed onto, and added to, the gospel story. In letters like Colossians, Paul is wrestling with wacky ideas about spiritualism, self-help, regimes and a Jesus who has been turned from human to a mystery that is beyond the physical. Paul is responding to a Greek culture of mystery and spiritualism being pushed onto, and added to, the gospel.

And in Galatians, he is dealing with a very different cultural influence on the gospel. The gospel has been tainted with the fake news of a ritualised Judaism which had moved beyond God’s intentions. For Paul, the Gospel he presented the Galatian church of a loving God, found through a simple faith in Christ, and followed by living in Christ had been lost; it had succumbed to the fake news of the only way to the Father was through the Torah.

And how did this Fake News enter the church. Well it came through the stumbling apostle we love so much – Peter.  Let’ hear what Paul had to say. We are going to hear this very differently and while our focus for today is Galatians 2: 11-21, we are going to read from the beginning of Galatians finishing in Chapter 3: 5 to give context.  We are going to read these verses in email form, from a paraphrase version of the Bible, Addy introduced to us years ago in his sermon about David and Goliath: The Street Paraphrase

From Paul@teammail.org

To JesusLiberationMovement@galatia.org.tk

Subject: Moses’ rules, and now?

I’m stunned! How come you wander off from God so quick? He personally picked you to be on the gift list for all the Saviour’s freebies, and now you’re into a different package, which is just bad fake news. It’s obvious someone’s messed with your heads by twisting the Saviour’s news – they’ve got your addled.

The guy who is doing the twisting should go get lost. I got the Good News direct from the Saviour when I was on the road to Damascus. The Good News is now being polluted, it is no longer liberating. And how did this all happen?

Pete shows up at Antioch and I stand up to him and give it to him straight – I wasn’t about to tiptoe around him; he was so far out of line he’d forgotten where the line was! Before James’s lot turned up, ol’ Pete was stuffing himself full of non-kosher food like there was no tomorrow. But when tomorrow came and brought James’s crew with it, Pete backtracked and went all strict kosher; ‘cos the Jews had him under surveillance, and he was scared stiff. Of course, all Pete’s Jewish mates followed suit, such a U-turn, such spin, so two-faced, it even had Barny caught up in it.

And soon as I spotted they were out of line with the good news, I said straight to Pete’s face, and loud enough for the whole crowd to hear, ‘You’re a Jew, but you normally live like you’ve never seen inside a Jewish HQ! How come now you’re trying to turn everyone else into a Jew? The Jesus Liberation Movement is completely different to Judaism. It’s not about working your way into God’s good books. It is about taking Jesus as, and at, his Word.

I’ve have been executed with the Saviour. I’m dead. Well, physically I’m still breathing, but it’s his breath filling my lungs. I’m ‘under new management’. My new life is run by God’s Son, who loved me so passionately he actually died for me. I’m not going to snub God and throw his free gift back in his face: if I could get a clean slate by keeping the old Rules, then the Saviour went through all that grief for nothing.

You Galatians, are you demented or what? Who’s hypnotized you? Who’s interfering with your brainwaves? You had the full works on how and why Jesus the Saviour died: I gave you the full presentation – live and interactive. So answer me this one thing: Did you get pumped full of God’s Spirit by keeping every single Rule in Moses’ book? No, you got it by taking God at his word. Are you really so daft that you’re going to start off with God’s Spirit running the show and then switch to manual and go for it on your own? After all you’ve gone through, don’t jack it all in for nothing. Again – why did God dole out his Spirit? Why did he do supernatural things though you? Was it ‘cose you had a perfect record and could tick off every Rule as ‘done and dusted’? No, it was because you took on what you heard.

If Paul was wanting to present a challenge, a message and teaching today, he would go straight to email, hitting his points as quickly as possible.

And what do we know. Well from last week, and the opening verses of this letter, or email, Paul is stunned, the Jesus Liberation Movement of Galatia had completely lost the point and direction of the Good News they originally received. Last week, we learnt how Paul himself was a testimony to this Good News. And now the Good News had something fake about it, Paul wanted to address it up front.

This is where we come into the message today. We learn in Chapter 2 from Verse 11 that Peter was the one to blame. I don’t know about you, but I really feel for the blunderer of this disciple and apostle. Peter, the one who Jesus praised as knowing deeper truth because he could see Jesus for who he is – the son of God. Peter the one that Jesus then turned to and said ‘Satan get away from me.’ Peter the one that guaranteed Jesus that he would never deny him, then later denies Jesus three times.

Peter the apostle in Acts 10 who received a dream in which God tells him that all animals are made clean by the creator and are therefore kosher to eat. Peter who church tradition tells us died a martyr for his faith on a cross that was upside down as Peter did not feel worthy enough to die like his saviour.

So let’s be Frank. Peter was a great man. Peter was a passionate man. And like most highly passionate people, Peter would run in guns blazing without thinking it through. So, like most of us highly passionate people, Peter was prone to stuff-ups.

And Paul points to a stuff-up. Peter, the apostle who knew all food given by the Father is clean, became in the eyes of Paul, a hypocrite because he was afraid of how his Jewish brothers would judge and receive him. Peter’s actions saw other Jews follow suit, the message that was given to the Gentiles here was direct – entry into the Jesus Liberation Movement came with its own rituals and if you want to get closer to God, follow the old ways of the disciples.

After all, Jesus was the son of Yahweh. Yahweh was the God of the Jews. Jesus was a Jew. So, for Gentiles to join the banquet table set before them by the God of the Jews and the God of Jesus, Gentiles would have to enter into the same rituals. Peter in a moment of pear pressure demonstrated this first-hand. As soon as James’s lot showed up and made evident the difference between Jew and Gentile and reminded Peter who he was, Peter returned to the customs of his culture.  

We shouldn’t knock Peter too much here. Yes, he mucked up. But I love the picture of Peter in the Bible, it is a picture of each of us and we know that Peter lived for Christ, and he died for Christ. We all engage in hypocrisy. All of us, especially when it involves the groups we were once a part of..

And we have to remember, Paul is not addressing Peter as the problem. Peter is the reason that the problem occurred – yes. But he is not the problem. The problem is the message that the Galatians accepted in their response to seeing and responding to the mistakes of Peter.

The churches in Galatia had obviously started to think that there must be more to the Gospel story that they were encouraged to just believe. The Gospel story that pointed to a God of Grace, who simply asked – have faith in my son; know that belief in my son will take you closer and closer to me because if you live in my Son, my Spirit will live in you.

The Galatian churches were young and fervent. They wanted more of God and they wanted to do more for God. And like many young Christians and churches they looked to those with more experience and who has more experience than the apostles and the Judaic faith. After all, at this time in history, Christianity was not a separate religion it was a sect of Judaism so it is only logical to look to the core rituals of Judaism to find the rituals and behaviours that will bring you closer to God.

And what would make this even more confusing is the pull that would have existed in Galatia at this time, and a pull that exists today even for us, what would make this even more confusing is the pull that we have to know that we are on the right path. That the journey that leads us to God, is in fact the way, the Truth and the life.

Recently I was listening to a Christian podcast called “Unbelievable.” The podcast featured a rabbi and a minister of the Church. The rabbi pointed out that in Hebrew, they do not refer to the Torah as the Law, they refer to it The Way. Jesus directly tips this all on its head in John 14:6, when he says “I am the way, the truth and the life, no one can get to the father except through me.”

And what really got me when I was listening to this podcast was listening to the rabbi who again and again kept saying – it is too simple, the Christian way, is too simple and therefore can’t be right. And then he hit the nail on the head when he turned to the Christian minister and said – I cannot believe that Jesus is the Messiah; Judaism is an exclusive faith. The story you are painting with your Messiah is of a universal faith – a faith for all.

At that point my heart and my spirit wept. Even my own simple reading of the Hebrew scriptures talks about the Hebrew people bringing God to all nations. Our creator God is not an exclusive God that we can learn more about and become closer to if we follow a set of rituals that keep as defined as separate to others.

And then I find myself reflecting even more on this simple passage – ten verses – that reference a table, a ritual and the actions of Peter and his crew and then I understood why Martin Luther King Jr. found the letter so important in his fight for Black rights in the USA. The man who is famous for the I have a Dream speech – a speech that also refers to a table “I have a dream that one day out in the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.”

And I realise that there is so much more to these verses. Especially when you know the place of the table in early Christian church history. In Alan Cole’s commentary on Galatians, he points out a startling and heart-pulling point – the piece of worship that these verses are pointing to is something called the “common meal”. Something called agape – the word for brotherly love – meal – Martin Luther King Jr’s Table of Brotherhood.

Alan Cole points out that if Peter refused, even under pressure, to join with his Gentile brothers and sisters in a common meal, he would also cease to join them at the Lord’s Table. At the communion table. Now, I want you to shut your eyes here.

Imagine this. You are a member of a Church in Galatia. Every Sunday, the Lord Table is a core part of your worship together – breaking bread and sharing wine. And, every Sunday, if Peter is in the building, he joins you at your table.

Then a wider group of Christians come, all have walked closely with God. Keep your eyes shut but your hearts open here. Imagine now what it would feel like if this group of esteemed people set themselves a table apart from you. You were not allowed at that table until you accepted the rituals of the group. Then Peter, the one that you thought would naturally sit with you, turns his back and sits at the other table.

Keep your eyes shut, your hearts open, and your ears ready to hear. Imagine how it would feel to have a divided Communion Table at church where each person did communion in their own way. Imagine how it would feel like to have someone refuse to take the Lord’s supper with you because of who you are.

“I have a dream that one day out in the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.”

“I have a dream that one day out in the green hills of Pukeatua, Wainuiomata, the sons and daughters of the lost and the sons and daughters of privilege will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.”

Let this really sink in – because this is where the nails of fake news hammer Jesus back on the cross. He died for the unity of creation, for the unity of Jew and Gentile, for the unity of the lost and the privileged.

A couple of weeks ago, I stood here and challenged the concept of Togetherness. Not because I disagreed with it but that I could see another side of the coin. One thing I said was this “. Together, the culture we create, we can also use as a measuring stick to compare and disregard others to ourselves.”

You know the Law of the Torah is a beautiful thing. David speaks of meditating on it day and night. When Jesus asks a Lawyer what the heart of the Law is the Lawyer responds Love the Lord your God and Love your Neighbour as Yourself. This is the heart of the Torah, the heart of the Gospel and the heart of Grace extended to us. The problem was, in their togetherness, each fraction of Judaism had created a measuring stick to judge others – for the Pharisees, the rituals they created to ensure that they were on the way were that measuring stick. And it made them an exclusive club.

We know also from the first 15 chapters of Luke, Jesus didn’t come for this exclusive club. He came for the outsiders.

And let’s face it, universally as a church, we have created measuring sticks to exclude others. Even here in Aotearoa NZ. A clear fact in our history here is that we started with mission churches and settler churches. Two different communion tables with one culture applying a very cultural and western measuring stick against another. A divide that still exists today.

However, one of the most startling measuring sticks evident in countries like Aotearoa New Zealand, is the divide between conservative Christians and liberal Christians. The measuring sticks are real, and we use them against each other regularly right to the point of making judgements about a fellow Christian because who they voted for or what position they took on moral issues. Even I have been guilty of this.

Don’t get me wrong, there is a place for redress, repentance and forgiveness. But there is not a place exclusivity. But it is important to hear this – if you would never have a fellow Christian around to your common table for a meal, then how are you positioning that person at the Lord’s Table. Have you created a measuring stick for an exclusive Christianity which only involves people like you who follow your cultural traditions and rituals?

Martin Luther King Jr is famous for two other quotes: “We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools.” And “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.”

I feel like I have to apologise for delivering two hard messages. It’s a struggle. But at the same time, it is understanding what is bringing us together is not a tool to measure each other. And it is not just grace – it is the other side of the coin – mercy. To quote Andy, who probably got this from someone else “Grace is having something given to us that we did not deserve; mercy is having something taken from us that we did deserve.”

I want to finish this word with Paul and then I would love us to really sing into the Gospel Truth that joined us as together as one today at the Communion Table.

1 Cor 15: 10 “God treated me with undeserved grace! He made me what I am, and his grace wasn't wasted.” (CEV)

 

Radical Togetherness: Luke 15

Together – a powerful word
We can do all things in Christ, if … we are … together
We can support one another and be a strength for each other, if … we are … together
We can establish a powerful and radical culture for Christ, if … we are … together
If we know each other, and connect to each other, we can stand as one, if … we are … together

But I want to pose this.

Together is also a dangerous word

Together, we run the risk at seeing ourselves as better than others, better than the people outside of the walls of our church
Together, we can be so closely connected that when new people come, we are so busy supporting each other that we don’t see the need walking in our door
Together, the culture we create, we can also use as a measuring stick to compare and disregard others to ourselves
Together, if we know each other, and connect to each other, we can stand as one and the outsider has no place to join us

Together is both a powerful and dangerous word.

As we journey into 2021, let us not just become closer with each other but let us be self-reflective on our togetherness. Let us question what ties us together. Let us challenge ourselves collectively and become a church that is truly open to outsiders, just as our saviour was open to outsiders.

Today, I am going to be preaching from Luke 15. A chapter with three parables. A parable about a lamb, a coin and a lost son. I won’t read the whole chapter, but you are welcome to read it as I share from the chapter.

But as we begin, let us watch the events coming up to Luke 15 and the final parable in Luke 15 from the Bible Project

Watch: The Prodigal Son, Luke 9-19 - Luke-Acts Series Video | BibleProject™

The Pharisees were a tight-knit religious group that supported each other. They created their own powerful and radical culture. The pharisees were a group that stood as one.

They had to. In the years between the Old Testament and the New, Israel had gone through some of the roughest times it had ever faced. The persecution of the Jewish people in this time would have been comparable to what the Jewish people faced in World War Two. And what is one question, we all ask when we go through hard and trying times – Why? Why God Why?

The Pharisees came up with the answer. We, the people of Israel, have lost favour with God because we fell away from the life he called us to live through Moses. For things to change, we need to return to God and his Law. We are a people of the Law, we live under God’s Law, if we want to receive the redemption of God, we must strictly adhere to all aspects of the Law. Every letter down to its last core. They had established a powerful and radical response to the times that they lived in. They believed they had the right answer and that the path they walked was right. They became a tight group, together, bound by their own concept of togetherness.

As such they expected their messiah would be one that would come and say to them – my sons, I am proud of the work you have done. My sons, I am proud that you saw the light and you turned to my Law. But Jesus didn’t. He dined with them, yes, but he dined with the sinners as well. He dined with the rejected. He dined with the people that the pharisees would never allow to sit at their table.

So, they asked Jesus, why do you choose to dine with sinners? And his response came through three stories.

And this is where our challenge to togetherness comes through. Because we often treat these stories separately. The lamb, the coin, the son. And, we often read these stories as if they are directed at the lost when they are not. Now, don’t get me wrong here. They are about the Father’s love for the lost. But reading these stories to celebrate our foundness was not the original intention of Jesus in telling them. Jesus used these parables to explain to the religious leaders of the day why he chose to dine with the lost and not just with the found.

A bit of the hook in the story here, is the pharisees are the older brothers in the last story. They stayed at home and diligently kept the Law and felt angered when the brother who had gone off the rails was celebrated for returning home.  If the pharisees, really knew the heart of the Law and their place in the story, they would welcome the restoration of the lost. But just as the last parable finishes, the really twist is found – just really who is lost in this ultimate story? It’s the older brother, the one who lost sight of grace and love. But, that is another sermon in itself – a sermon on how the found can become lost and never see it coming.

Back to these parables and their place.

By Luke 15, the pharisees were outranged with Jesus. Together as one they had diligently put God’s Law above all else. They held strong to their faith and yet the Son of the God they worshipped treated them no different to the ones that had gone astray.

And Jesus tells them three stories. And it is like a trilogy with the climax building and occurring in the last of the stories. In the first story, there are 100 sheep, one goes missing and instead of leaving it the shepherd looks for it; in the second story, there are ten coins, one goes missing and instead of leaving it the woman looks for it; and in the last story, there are two sons, one becomes lost, but when he finds himself, his father welcomes him home.

That is the greatness of God’s love for the lost. But for the pharisees these stories meant so much more. They were offensive stories because of the characters that were central to each – a shepherd, a woman and a disgraced son. Each story featured an outsider who the pharisees would never dine with.  It wasn’t just the objects that were lost, it was the reality that these people, in their own ways, were lost.

The stories weren’t just about something being found, they were about the attitude we have to those who are lost.

The stories are about how we treat outsiders. Those that offend our togetherness.

When I was researching this sermon, I tried to think of modern-day equivalents. If I were to take a moral stand, I could probably list some straight up – homosexuals, abortion supporters, child abusers; the list goes on. But sometimes outsiders are simply those we don’t want to be seen with.  

Andy has already shared with us in his series on advent the outside position of shepherds in the urbanised Israel in which Jesus was born. And our Sunday school pictures of shepherds really don’t cut it. So, I tried to think of a job which most of us, okay maybe just me and not you, would not want to do because it comes with shame.

I also tried to think of modern-day equivalents to groups of people who are excluded from many activities in a society because of factors of birth like gender. Phil has already shared with us about the disregard women faced at this point in time in history. While, Jewish culture would not do this, it was not uncommon in the Roman world of the time for female babies to be put out with the trash.

Finally, I tried to think of shame occurring to a family in the context of a chosen life-style of a child. And outside of church culture, and a return to moral examples, I found it hard to come up with equivalents of lifestyles that bring shame into families.

After thinking, researching and reflecting, I think I have something, well someone to be exact. Meet Kenny the plumber. Well, he really isn’t a plumber. He drives human waste trucks, disposes human waste, cleans out septic tanks used for human waste, and oversees portable toilets at major public events. He drives the truck you don’t want to be behind on the commute to work. While he is proud of his job, his choice of employment is a factor in his divorce and he brings shame to his proud father.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzP10yQMaN0

Now, I am certain that none of us here would say that having a Kenny in our lives would offend us. I am certain that none of us see a person being defined by their job. Afterall, Kenny really isn’t a plumber, here in New Zealand he would be called a “Portable Toilet Service Operator”.

But, in New Zealand, we do have a bit of a problem in that we often try to start up a conversation with – where are you from and what do you do. Both questions are asked to position others to the groups we associate with. Now let’s be honest, our reaction would be slightly different after we have shaken hands with a Portable Toilet Service Operator, as opposed to a plumber.

And as a parent would you be proud to say, my son, my daughter, is a Portable Toilet Service Operator. And even if you have said yes here, would you be encouraging them to find a different job, have different career aspirations, or would your heart secretly jump with joy when they came home and said, they have been given a different job with Spashdown – same pay and hours but now they are Accounts Manager.

Kenny is an outsider. He is in a job that still has shame attached to it. Now I know that we would accept Kenny and others like him into our group. He could be part of our together here in Wainuiomata Baptist. I do think we have a culture that Kenny would love and I can see him connecting in with groups here. But I think there is more to this.  And I do think that for some people, those of different cultures, backgrounds and political positions, the challenge is real.

Outsiders are people we avoid, they are people we are afraid of, they are the people we chose not to see. 

The movie Kenny starts with a quote “None are less visible than those we decide not to see.” Who are the Kennys in our lives? Who are the people in our communities that we are ashamed of? Who are the people we teach our children not to see – these are our outsiders. What message are we giving about our group and our own concept of togetherness when we decide not to see particular groups, or types, of people.

To use an extreme example; I personally find it so hard to avoid the eyes of the homeless begging in Wellington. For me personally, when our eyes connect, I am obliged to give – I see Jesus in their eyes. Now this giving might not be money or food, it just might be an ear and a relationship. It might be just to shake their hand and listen to their story. It might be to treat them as human. But there are times when I am in a rush, there are times when I even had children with me, and the context means I find myself actively avoiding eye contact and crossing to the other side of the footpath.

At this point I have decided not to see the outsider; worse, I have taught others how to not see need when it presents itself. I have been a Christian version of a Pharisee.

And kids, when they are young, don’t have this skill. There have been times when Eric and I have been asked – why are we not giving the person something? Why did we cross the road? We give an excuse from the head and not the heart – they are probably alcoholics. But addicts are welcome in the Kingdom of God too.  God’s heart for the lost extends into addiction.

You know to have faith in God is to not fear. I have been listening to the Holy Post Podcast and it was recently pointed out in the podcast that if you walk in fear it is impossible to do the things that God calls us to – to love our neighbours, feed the homeless, visit the prisoner, speak up for injustice and speak into the Love of the Father for the outcast. Fear blocks and stops us responding as Christ would.

But how can we overcome this fear. How can we open our culture of togetherness to not be one that protects us but one that invites outsiders to be present? I think it starts right here – because even in our church whanau today there are people and families who feel like outsiders.

Our church is filled with mini-bubbles of families, life groups and friends. We should be prepared to expand our mini-bubbles and take the challenge that Royce and Phil have given us. Invite each other into our homes so that we can really know each other. And go further, in church, when you say hi to people at the beginning of church – don’t aim for your bubble – expand it.

In this very action, the action of expanding our mini-bubbles, we are practicing the skill of opening conversations with people we don’t know. And this is key and important. To be welcomed is to be welcomed, it is not to be ignored. It is to make the visitor visible in our eyes and respond as Christ would.

You, I, us developing skills of hospitality enables us to connect more authentically with outsiders. How many of us really do want strangers to come into our building and into our church services? Well the strangers might come, but they will only return if they feel like this group of ‘together’ people are radically different. We are a people who aren’t afraid of outsiders.

The core message of the parables of the lost sheep, coin and son is one of attitude.

We can be like the pharisees as a church, and we can treat those on the outside of our church with indifference. We can just ignore them like the pharisees did with the woman and the shepherd. We can even hate them like the pharisees did with the lost son who had clearly put shame on his family. Or we can welcome them with open arms when they come to us. Or we can take the challenge one step further, we can be like the shepherd and the woman, we can radically seek out the lost.  We can carry the heart of the Father for the lost – a heart of radical love.

To be demonstrate radical togetherness church is more than reading, Bible stories from a position of being the sheep, the coin and the lost son. To demonstrate radical togetherness church is to see the shepherd, the woman and the lost son as outsiders excluded from the banquet table. To demonstrate radical togetherness church, is to hear Jesus say, I have come for the outsiders. If you believe in me, you are no longer an outsider. You are found, create a seat at my table for those who offend you, those who shame you and those you ignore. Be a place of radical togetherness. Because if you don’t, then you yourself will be the most lost in your comfort of being found. 

No rei ra

And just when you think the story is finished – the ultimate twist is found. If we see past ourselves, understanding the Pharisee in each of us, we may just hear the Father in Luke 15: 31 “My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.”

You see church, when our own concept of togetherness is challenged by others, our Father is still with us – our Father is for us. He is for you. He is for you. He just wants the blessings he has bestowed upon you to extend out to the lost.

Tene koutou, tene koutou, tene tatau katoa

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZQPifs2kjo