Pitt Street Uniting Church, 02-Feb-2014 A Reflection by Rev Dr Margaret Mayman Epiphany 4A Mic 6: 1-8; 1 Cor 1: 18-31; Matthew 5: 1-12 Reflection On the front cover of your liturgy is a photo of the statue of Christ the Redeemer which towers across Rio de Janeiro in Brazil. Recently it was hit by lightning and Jesus lost a finger. The priest who is responsible for the statue s care says additional lightning rods will be installed to protect it from the frequent electrical storms experienced in Rio. I thought of the statue again this week when I was reflecting on Jesus s Sermon on the Mount. Clare and I visited Rio in 2010. I had really looked forward to seeing Christ the Redeemer. It was a bit strange really because I m not that into traditional or triumphal representations of Jesus. It was, nevertheless, awe inspiring to see the statue above the city as we drove in on the bus from Sao Paulo. Of all the countries we visited in South America, Brazil was the most expensive so we only had two nights in Rio. But we did manage to stay on the Copacabana beach, which was vibrant, exciting and stunning. It was warm and lovely and there were masses of people on the beaches of Copa and Ipanema. That part of Rio has a happily hedonistic feeling about it. Beer and capairana cocktails flow freely. People of all shapes and sizes were baring a lot of their bodies. I think we were the only women on the beach in one-piece swim-suits. I realised why the hair removal procedure known as a Brazilian was named in homage to the beach dwellers of Rio. Not a lot was left to the imagination! Initially we had planned to do a one-day bus tour of Rio. However, reading on-line I discovered a small tour company with a focus on history and ecology that explored one of the urban favelas, or slum areas. We were picked up by our guide at 9 am and together with a Philippino tourist, we drove to the far end of Copacabana beach and up into the hillside favela of Chapeau Mangueira. A Reflection by Rev Dr Margaret Mayman Page 1 of 6
For the next three and a half hours we climbed up through the community learning about the social, health and education projects and the community associations of locals who were working to make a better life for their people. Our guide Raul had a good relationship with people and was accepted because his attitude to the tour was about expanding our understanding of the humanity of poor Brazilian people. Raul s little company gave back 60% of the fees from the tours to the social projects in the community. This was a stark contrast to the poverty tourism offered by the large tour companies. In those, tourists travel through the favela not on foot, but in jeeps, like some sort of wildlife tour. Raul explained to us that many of the favelas were still controlled by drug gangs and the tourist operators pay off the drug dealers in order the gain access. Raul had decided that was unethical and sought another way. We walked up and up through the steep hillside of crowded houses, with Raul and a young man from the favela accompanying us. Above the houses, and tiny shops and bars perched among them, we entered an ecological zone where the community and the military (who had a base nearby) were working in partnership to re-establish native plant life. It was incredibly hot and humid and we sweated our way up the hill. What we didn t realise was that we were actually climbing to the top of the hill next to the famous Sugar Loaf peak and that at the summit we were higher than the first stage of Sugar Loaf. It was an amazing view, and unlike the crowded Sugar Loaf there were only the five of us standing there. In the other direction from Sugar Loaf was the mountain Cordavo and the Christo Redenter statue appearing through the mist. Now that we had seen the reality of community in Rio, it no longer seemed triumphalist. I felt that Jesus s arms were stretched out in love and compassion. Rio is not one of those cities where the poor and the rich are rigidly separated geographically. They live side by side, and there is a sense of the presence of the sacred embracing the diversity of land, sea, sky and peoples, rich and poor and black and white. Embracing the diversity and yet presenting a vision of justice that remains to be realised. A Reflection by Rev Dr Margaret Mayman Page 2 of 6
Christ the Redeemer. Above and yet connected to the complexity of the urban metropolis, representing not a victorious risen Christ but the human Jesus yearning for justice for all, with arms stretched out in an encircling embrace. The biblical Sermon on the Mount begins with the famous passage called the Beatitudes that we heard read this morning. These blessed are sayings are, like so many biblical passages, so familiar that we don t really hear them. Today I invite you to take a fresh look at the beatitudes as spiritual practices that can shape our lives. The beatitudes give us not only a way to see God, but a way to see our world. And they give us something concrete to do about what we see, as they call us to participate in the commonwealth of God. Exploring the beatitudes can be a personal journey, but it is best done in the context of community because the biblical story is meant to be read and reflected upon in community the text comes alive when spoken aloud and our own stories rub up against the stories of our ancestors in the faith. The blessing of the poor in spirit is often spiritualised by pious people or rejected by activists as being too abstract. But there is a third way between spiritualising and political activism that enables us to develop a new perspective on the relationship between poverty and wealth. A way that enables us to create communities where both needs and abilities are considered. Blessed are those who mourn is an injunction that seems at first to contradict our experience of grief. The Jesus Seminar version of the beatitudes translates blessed are as good on you. I appreciate their intention but good on you mourners misses an invitation to think about the adversity that is part of being human. People we love die before we are ready to let them go. Being mournful doesn t automatically become a blessing. It only becomes a blessing when people respond to the mourner with a practice of hospitality and care. Often at funerals I have heard family members speak about the incredible practical and emotional support they had received from friends and neighbours during the time of illness and dying. A good funeral service is itself a practice of hospitality where people are made at home and through poetic words and calm life-affirming presence, mourning is blessed. A Reflection by Rev Dr Margaret Mayman Page 3 of 6
Blessed are the meek can sound like an invitation to get walked over. But it might lead to reflection which critiques established notions of power on behalf of the coming generations who will inherit this fragile earth of ours. Blessed are those who hunger for justice. Well it certainly doesn t seem that this is how the world operates. But the beatitudes are not describing the world as it is, but a vision of the world as it could and should be. This blessing responds to a deep desire for transformation in our families, our communities, our cities, our country, our world. Blessed are the pure in heart, is not about being naïve but an invitation to the experience of sacred power. If we live only in our heads we miss what our hearts can teach us. It is so easy to be cynical and hard-hearted as a default position. But the pure in heart are open-hearted, permeable, changeable. For only with such openness may we see and know the sacred. Blessed are the peacemakers. This is easier to get your head around. We think of Gandhi, King and Mandela. But how can peacemaking to be practiced in local, daily and sustainable ways? How can we hold in our hearts all the broken places where there is no peace and see ourselves as connected to those places and people? It is hard to know what we can do for peace in Syria but we can advocate that the Australian government stop turning a blind eye to the violence that is happening on our door-step in West Papua. Blessed are those who are persecuted for justice's sake. My heart breaks for gay and lesbian brothers and sisters in many places in the world where they are persecuted because of who they love. As the world begins to look to the Winter Olympics in Sotchi in Russia, activists are working hard to bring attention to the policies of the Russian government which have dramatically increased persecution and violence toward queer people there. One of the most dangerous places in the world to be gay or lesbian at the moment is Uganda. Uganda has recently passed appalling legislation which calls for life in prison for gay people. The law initially proposed the death penalty. However, gay people die anyway in Uganda as the news media has identified gay activists and called for their deaths. In 2011 David Kato, advocacy officer with Sexual Minorities Uganda, was brutally attacked with a hammer to the head and died on his way to a Kampala hospital. A Reflection by Rev Dr Margaret Mayman Page 4 of 6
David Kato became a victim in the senseless culture wars fuelled from the pulpits and bank accounts of Christian fundamentalist churches and politicians in the United States, many of whom have visited Uganda and funded passage of the anti gay laws. Three months before he was killed, David s pictured appeared on the front cover of Uganda s Rolling Stone tabloid with a headline reading 100 Top Homos - Hang Them. Still today David s family and the LGBTI community and its allies mourn for him and for the sacrifice he has made. How will those who are persecuted for justice be blessed? By no other means than by our joining them in struggle and solidarity. The Beatitudes are not an account of the way things are. They are a radical vision of what might be. What seemed to matter for the writer of Matthew was the building-up of his young, struggling community. And to do that Matthew had to recruit more followers who would take upon themselves the responsibility for dreaming and for re-imagining the world. But they had little or no idea of how to live out that dream. Matthew tells a story which has us and the members of his community overhearing Jesus teaching the crowd A story that invites a response in favour of those who are adversely affected by the powerful goings-on of the empire. And encouraging a response that seeks to do away with all that oppresses, limits, restricts, deprives, imprisons or kills others. We can sense Matthew s hope that at least some of the community will respond: This is risky. It will mean change. A Reflection by Rev Dr Margaret Mayman Page 5 of 6
But... we can be that people! We can live out that dream! Like Matthew s community, we are also invited to listen. Like Matthew s community, we can respond: This is risky. It will mean change. But... we can be that people! We can live out that dream! Jesus stands with his arms stretched out to embrace the human community and the earth that is our home. In small ways, in brave actions, may we be the ones who will bring about change in our hearts, in our families, in our city, in our world. May we find the strength in our everyday lives to respond to this call, to be this people. May we be blessed. May we be a blessing. Amen. A Reflection by Rev Dr Margaret Mayman Page 6 of 6