“Kill Me, I Am Going To Kill You !”

During the week one of those tragic news stories we here about all too often came close to home…

Just over a week ago now I heard the tragic story of Tyler Cassidy. Tyler was the knife-wielding boy of just 15 who was shot dead by police near a skateboard ramp in the northern suburbs of Melbourne. Evidently, Tyler had just stolen two knives from K Mart, when he was confronted by the police. He was confused and agitated and ranting. And four policemen were trying to calm him down. Then the situation deteriorated. Tyler started yelling… “Kill me, I’m going to kill you”… And then 3 of the 4 policemen decided the only way to contain this rather short & weedy 15 yr old, was by firing 10 bullets into him.

Tyler died alone, gasping for his last breathes… His life flowing out of him through the bullet wounds in his chest.

And we are left dumbfounded and shaking our heads… “How is such a thing possible ? How can this happen in our so called sophisticated & civilized society ?”

I said before that during the week this story came close to home. My church supports Scott & Cathrine Girvan who have been working for many years now with GiA in Africa. Tyler Cassidy was Scott and Kathryn’s nephew.

Catherine emailed us during the week… “Please remember us in your prayers. Late Thursday afternoon, Scott’s 15 year old nephew was shot and killed by police in Victoria. As you can imagine his sister and mother are overcome with grief at this time…” Then the email finishes off, “Pray for Scott as he tries to find a way to fly back to Melbourne…” And I say pray for Catherine as she and her 2 girls wait disturbed and anxious and questioning in Africa…

It’s at times like this that you realise how the consequences of our decisions & of our actions ripple out in all directions, long after they are done.

It reminds me of what God says to Cain after he murders his brother Abel. He says, “What have you done ? Listen, your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground.” It’s like he is saying the violent actions of men continue screaming out to God – long after they are finished.

And don’t you get tired of the violence upon violence, the screams and the left over cries of pain ?

Go and Make Disciples

During the week I attended the funeral of my Uncle in Brisbane. He had passed away quietly and in the end quite quickly after a long battle with cancer.

A couple of days before the funeral, I received an unexpected phone call from my cousin, asking me if I would read out the tribute of his brother Wesley.

Unfortunately, my cousin Wes couldn’t be at his Dad’s funeral because he was in Shanghai, in the middle of a 4 week concert tour of Asia, with a children’s’ choir that he conducts.

Now as you can imagine I said, “Sure ! It will be a privilege for me to help”. But getting off that phone, I was also thinking, “Do I really want to go that difficult place of a son struggling to honour the pain of losing a father who has been suddenly taken from him ?”

Yet despite my reluctance I was also fascinated with the things he had to say about his Dad. Let me share some of them with you…

“As a father I sometimes pause and reflect on what legacy I would like to leave my children. I ask myself, ‘What gift can I give that will lay a firm foundation for them to build their lives on ?’ I need look no further to find the answer. If it is true that a life of example speaks the clearest, then there can be no question that my Father’s life spoke with clarity. It spoke with a resonance, consistent with his deep belief in God, his family, hard work and a ripping good laugh.”

“I feel if I can emulate him trying, in my own way, to be the kind of man he was, then I shall come closer to giving to my own sons the necessary values and foundation they will need to live life in this world…”

“I will always be grateful for the Father I had. I will try, for the sake of my own sons, to become equal to his example”.

As you can see, these weren’t easy words to speak but what a privilege it was to share something of my cousin’s deeply held love and respect for his father.

Have you ever noticed how wonderfully clear things become when someone we love, crosses over the threshold into death ?

What I loved about saying these words is the deep insight they give into the way people learn those fundamental, foundational things people need for living in this world.

Children learn how to live by the patterns of living and speaking they are immersed in, in the daily presence of their parents.

It’s true isn’t it, we become like the people we spend the most time with. It’s hard-wired into us as people.

Surely this is the intent of Jesus’ final words, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations… teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you…”

Jesus says, “Go and make disciples…” because discipling ensures disciples become mature, kingdom building followers of Jesus. Discipling makes certain we become like Jesus and do what Jesus does.

Jesus Yolk

Jesus didn’t leave much behind. It occurred to me the other day, he didn’t bequeath any property or buildings, any wife or offspring, Jesus didn’t write anything down, he didn’t leave behind any revolutionary guerrilla army, he didn’t leave behind a new religion or liturgy.

Remember Jesus said, “Do not think I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill it. Truly I tell you, not one stroke or letter will pass from the law until it is all accomplished”.

What Jesus left behind was his yolk… his interpretation of the Scriptures and a rather disturbing life lived in the light of those interpretations.  It was a life lived in contrast and challenge, dissenting against the status quo and the prevailing power structures of the day.  It was a life lived swimming up stream against the status quo.

Instead of an Adventist Jesus walking along all serene and white and surrounded by smiling children and adults and wild and tame animals, think of a Jesus filled with righteous anger overturning the tables of the money changers in the Temple causing disruption and chaos in all directions.

Let’s face it, if you were a reputable lending institution, would you approve a home loan for such a person ? As disciples we are called to take up our Cross and follow this Jesus – not just to believe. If we are truly Jesus disciples then why have so many of us been granted home loans ?

The only tangible thing Jesus left behind were his band of disciples and his final instructions, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations… teaching them everything I commanded you”.

If all Jesus left behind his yolk, his disciples and his instruction to make more disciples, then why do we hold on so tightly to our property, to our buildings & particular ways of doing things; whether we sing particular songs in particular ways, how many times we come to church, the particular ways we dress ? Why do we hold so tightly onto these things when Jesus modelled living life in the face of a deep and passionate embrace of the Scriptures, a life in the intimate presence of the Father, in actual connection to a circle of disciples ? My question is why don’t we grab more tightly onto these things ?

Jesus reaches down from the Cross, he grabs hold of us and he says, ‘Come and die’ ! The challenge of that is which Jesus do I believe in ?

Is it gentle Jesus meek and mild, who I adore and contemplate or is it the grubby, human peasant Jesus -  with the roughened hands of a carpenter in the Gospels who calls me out to follow ?

I believe in the Jesus who, “though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but instead emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born on human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross”.

I pray for the courage to travel where he leads and to do so just as lightly ! 

Sharper Than Any Two Edged Sword

Getting your head around the Cross is difficult. The Cross is really rather awkward in the sense of being clumsy & inelegant. Think about the metaphors we reach for to describe it. Think about the old hymn… “At the Cross, at the Cross – where I first saw the light & the burden of my heart rolled away. It was there by faith I received my sight and now I am happy all the day…” What about the words from a more recent song, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound; amazing love, now flowing down. From hands and feet that were nailed to the tree… His grace flows down and covers me”.

Part of the awkwardness of the Cross, is the holy paradox… the place of God-forsakenness is also the place where God is profoundly present. The Cross describes the execution of a particular man but it also describes the possibility of the crucified God, the very pain of God…

The paradox of the Cross is dissonance & tension – even anxiety itself, like being on the knife edge of uncertainty. Remaining here means the knife cutting deeper, ‘…piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow… able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart’ (Hebrews 4:12).  Imagine a deadend place of such brutality and physical violence also being the place of safety, of confessional intimacy and so… much… more…

The awkwardness of the Cross is that it is not just some kind of splendid vision that we observe, we behold and we adore. Instead, the Cross is the beginning of a journey right now - that will eventually take us to an unbounded place, to a place that even death cannot hold us back from participating in. A place where we will see God face-to-face.

The irony of the Cross is that its very awkwardness, its enigmatic character speaks most plainly about the lengths God is prepared go in his pursuit of people.

Good Friday ?

I have never understood the idea of celebrating the death of Jesus at Easter.

Jesus’ death speaks of the violence of men, of life beaten out of his body. It speaks of a body breaking – screaming out to its last breath about the injustice in a world that breaks too many people.

The image of the two Marys weeping over the soldiers savagely beating Jesus is surely the image of women generally – crying out against men and their violence, against the death of their compassion and sensitivity.

That men would seek to undo the purposes of God, that they so readily destroy righteousness and justice and that they drown mercy in their deep arrogance flowing in a never ending stream. This is just more of the same in the history of men.

Oh the anger, the rage of Power when it is defied and disturbed, when it is made to feel irrelevant. The violence of authority, when it is shown to be hollow and without substance, lacking in pity.

The birth of something new of means allowing something held too tightly, to be truly extinguished, to die in dust and ashes and then to rise up reborn like the phoenix.

Jesus, on the night he was betrayed took some bread, broke it & gave thanks saying, “This is my body, broken for you… take, and eat in remembrance of me.” After they had eaten together Jesus picked up a cup and said, “This cup is my blood which is poured out for you for the forgiveness of sins…”.

This Easter, may you hunger again for this bread, may you deeply thirst for this cup. May these habits of confession, of participation, of redemption – be the way you honour Jesus’ death until he comes !