Monday, May 21, 2012

Easter 7: Relationship with God



Acts 1.1-11
Psalm 47
Ephesians 1.15-23
Luke 24.44-53

The God of Jesus is no longer a god who saves us from the consequences of our folly, neither circumvents the unforeseen disaster.  That God is not the god of the great design, a design into which each of us is fitted like so many pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.  That God is not a god who fights with our armies, neither a god who punishes our enemies.  In short, that God is not a god who saves us from the human condition.  Of course, as is so often the case in the New Testament, Jesus’ followers have not altogether learned that.  The author of the Acts of the Apostles records that directly before his departure they asked Jesus: “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1.6b)  At the deepest level what they are really asking is “Lord, is this the time when you will save us from the human condition?”  The Roman occupation of the Jewish promised land is for them only a symptom of that condition.  Even the apostle Paul does not seem to understand, when he almost rails in the letter to the Romans: “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” (Romans 7.24)  No, no; the salvation of the God of Jesus is not one which delivers us from the our human nature nor out of the human condition.  Rather one which draws us more fully and authentically into it, one that draws into maturity within it.


Thursday the Church commemorated the ascension of Jesus, when – after forty days from the resurrection, forty days spent with his closest friend in fellowship and teaching – Jesus returns to his Father.  I used to find preaching about or discussing the Ascension particularly unnerving, because whatever I said about it, whatever theological slant I gave it, I was always aware that I might be asked the question:  “Why did Jesus have to leave at all?”  I realised that apart from retreating into pat, metaphysical answers, I had no real response.  After all, Jesus was risen from the dead, why did he have to go back?  Why couldn’t he remain and become a sort of CEO of the new kingdom movement, at least oversee the beginning of the project for a few years?  But, more recently, I have begun to understand it as imperative that Jesus returned to his Father, because it was only with that happening that his followers would ever really grow up and take responsibility for their own lives and for their own calling.  Jesus’ departure from his friends seems particularly relevant to us living in the post-modern world, in the era beyond the “death of God.”  Perhaps, the greatest challenge for the Church today is this very question:  Whether we are willing to grow up and let go of infantile and infantilising images of God and of religion.  Whether we are willing to engage with both in a way worthy of responsible adults.

For some reason we human beings are all too willing to cede our responsibility or initiative.  We are often quick to find someone or something to blame, and  ever keen to vest another with the authority which is only properly our own.  But the call of God in Jesus is to move beyond that.  The call of God in Jesus is to grow up and enter into maturity – spiritual maturity, emotional maturity.  Had Jesus remained, this could never have happened.  As the theologian John McNeill writes, “As long as Jesus remained alive and present, his disciples had their center of authority outside themselves and were not therefore, totally responsible for their actions.  They were striving to meet the expectations of someone else.  They had not yet become fully creative and responsible adults.”[1]  As long as Jesus remained with them they could more easily opt out of the reality of the human condition and the adult demands it makes on every one of us.  Had Jesus remained they would have been able to continue with that childish image of a god who is our friend and our friend only, and who controls every eventuality.  Yet, in the ascension of Jesus, it was confirmed that that was not to be an option, not for them, neither for us.

Jesus’ ascension radically challenged the disciples’ conventional understanding of God and their relationship to God. It revealed a God who demands of human beings an appropriate self-reliance, who does not resolve all our problems, nor fights our battles.  And this was a major ideological and theological shift, one that we are only recently beginning to really take seriously.  Instead of the god who like in ancient Greek dramas descended from the heavens and set all to right, we are revealed a God who ascends into the heavens and allows us (as Paul writes to the Philippians) to “work out our own salvation with fear and trembling.” (Philippians 2.12b)  This God allows us to reason, think, doubt and even if we want reject God, all for the sake of our having the opportunity and responsibility of making decisions of real integrity.  This God allows us to struggle with our humanity and thereby reveal our divine image and likeness.  And why does God do this?  Well, it seems to me that it is only with people like that – people who are autonomous, capable of making informed decisions, able to direct and confront their lives – with whom mature relationship is possible, and at the bottom line it is about relationship.  In the Gospel of John we heard last week Jesus saying to his followers, “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.” (John 15.15) Here Jesus highlights the relationship with human beings that in him God is proclaiming.  It is a relationship based not a model of inequality and servitude, but one which is based on mutuality, partnership and freedom.  It is a relationship based not on commodities – what one can do or produce for the other – but on the personal encounter of autonomous beings for the sake of relationship itself.  On our part it demands that we cease thinking of God as some big daddy in the sky, a sort of cosmic Santa Claus who fights our battles and grants us treats if we pray hard enough or behave well enough.  It challenges us into real relationship with God.  In fact, you must admit that if we treated our fellow human beings the way we so often treat God, we would be accused of self-serving opportunism, indeed of using another.  Why should that criteria change because the relationship is with God?

Because God offers to us the possibility of real relationship, God also offers to the us the invitation into partnership.  We are not mere pawns of some all-powerful deity; neither as Paul says are “we…enslaved to the elemental spirits of the world.” (Galatians 4.3)  The ascension of Jesus highlights one of the fundamental beliefs of Christianity and one of the fundamental truths of human existence – our free will and therefore agency.  God will not force the divine will for creation upon us, but rather invites us to share and take an active part in that vision, that vision which  Jesus called the kingdom of God.  For God to do otherwise, would mean that we would have to have been created to be something less or other than the image and likeness of God.  Granted, God sends to us the Holy Spirit to comfort, guide and inspire – but not to possess us or somehow overrun our freedom and possibility of choice.  In that freedom and choice God makes the invitation to partnership.  Our world is the creation of human and divine cooperation.  We are free to choice its path and direction, always knowing that we must take responsibility for the consequences and eventuality of those choices. 

The Roman Catholic Franciscan Richard Rohr believes that for every hundred years since the birth of Jesus, the human race has matured one year in our ability to understand the message of Jesus; that makes us about twenty years old.  Understood in this light the message and mystery of the Ascension is an important one, particularly important at this present time in our history.  It challenges the Church corporately and each of her members individually to grow up, to take seriously their responsibility as adults and their inheritance as friends of God,  called into maturity and invited into partnership.  It reminds us of the dignity we have as creatures made in the image and likeness of God.


[1] John Macneill, Freedom, Glorious Freedom: The Spiritual Journey to the Fullness of Life for Gays, Lesbians, and Everybody Else (Boston: Beacon Press, 1995) p. 9.



No comments:

Post a Comment