Parables Are Fiction

OK - I deliberately put it that way in a recent sermon to get people's attention. We have been looking at parables recently, which are often misunderstood - especially when the parable itself is expressed in a way that was designed to be provocative. So it is worthwhile reviewing what a parable actually is:

1. They are fiction, or perhaps less provocatively, they are a construct. When Jesus tells a parable, he isn’t reporting an event; he is telling a story. The characters and situations he describes may well have rung very true with his listeners – as they do today. People may recognise the type of person he’s depicting, but the form of parable we have is a construct. 
2. Jesus uses items and situations that are familiar to his audience – agriculture, keeping flocks, family disputes, a mugging. He features characters such as tax collectors, shepherds and farmers – to convey his point. He may well be drawing on actual events and encounters (what good author doesn't?), but the parable as delivered is not intended to be received as a report.
3. We have little or no back story, and we don't find out what happened next. We are not told whether the jealous brother joined the party at the end of the Prodigal Son account, because the parable is designed to leave the hearer with questions to reflect on.
4. Parables are not intended to be taken literally –  financial debt is used as a way of picturing forgiveness of sins, for example.
5. They often have a sting in the tail designed to leave the audience with something to think about: The parable of the good Samaritan ends with a question as to which person showed the true qualities of a neighbour. Jesus asks this fully aware of the hostility and suspicion between Jews and Samaritans, which is reported elsewhere. It forces a reply “…the one who showed him kindness” which suggests that even saying "the Samaritan" was a bit too much for the respondent. Likewise in the Parable of the Talents, we want to be with the underdog, but it's the man with 1 talent who gets the hard time! It forces us to ask questions as to what is going on and what does it mean.
6. Parables are reported as being delivered in a specific context (although Jesus probably reused material numerous times as he travelled around). There is sometimes a question that leads in, such as who is my neighbour? Sometimes Jesus has an audience in mind, such as the elite turning up their noses at him spending time with people seen as sinners and outcasts.

With all parables, Jesus is not directly reporting an actual event; he is inviting us to imagine a situation, be challenged by it, and let it evoke a response. It is a much more creative method of teaching than we sometimes appreciate, and parables are designed to leave us with more thinking and imagining to do. The real question is how does the telling and hearing of them change us - that is what they were designed for.

Today is Ash Wednesday, which marks the start of the season of Lent for Christians. At some point today, many Christians will be going to their churches to share in a service of Holy Communion and to receive a symbolic cross made with ash on their forehead.

What a lot of people might not realise is that there was no official form of words for such a service in the Church of England until 1986 when Lent, Holy Week, Easter Services and Prayers was published. Until then all we had for Ash Wednesday was a normal communion service with collects and readings for that day. Of course, there were churches borrowing material from elsewhere for their services.

The result of this was that a lot of faithful Anglicans had no experience of the "Imposition of Ashes" in their churches until this new book became established. When I started training for the ministry in 1987 I had never witnessed it, despite attending C of E churches since I was 7. Initially I must admit to being a bit reluctant to take part, but it has come to have significance, reminding me of my mortality, my shortcomings and my dependence on God.

However, there is one thing that has always bothered me about the Ash Wednesday service, and it is this. One of the set readings for today is a section from Matthew 6 (the Sermon on the Mount) including these words

16 ‘And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. 17But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, 18so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.  (Mt 6:16-18 NRSV)

and I have always felt a discomfort about that. We walk out of the service with a very visible and obvious sign on our heads that we have just been there. Surely the text is suggesting we should be more discreet. I have quietly solved this dilemma by removing the cross quickly afterwards, but it doesn't quite seem in the spirit of things.

I was, therefore, very interested to come across this from Rev Bosco Peters, a priest in New Zealand, which echoed my own reservations. 

"There is an Ash Wednesday tradition quite different to the conspicuous cross of ash on the forehead – it is sprinkling ash on top of the head. Read more: https://t.co/OE1QwJmf6R "

Apparently it's good enough for Pope Francis, However, it will require a rethink. A lot of people mix oil with their ash to make a nice gloopy smear.

Whatever you decide to do today, I hope that you find space over the next few weeks of Lent to reflect on what you believe, your priorities, and perhaps to take some action or some steps to make a change you feel is needed in your life. You don't need ash to do that, although it can help to mark a boundary and a beginning.

Have a fruitful Lent.

An All-age script for Epiphany

This was written to be used in an all-age service as figures of the wise men are placed into the crib scene, and then the gifts are placed before the crib. A version of Matthew 2:1-12 has already been read. This imagines how it might have gone.

Three wise men - sometimes called Magi or even Kings - came to visit Jesus

Casper brought gold. [place a figure in the crib scene]

He wanted to show the new king how rich he was. He had done so well making money, and it made him feel important and a success. Now he wanted to make sure the new young king knew all about it. If the new king needed advice on how to get and make money, or if he needed a rich and powerful friend, Casper was his man. Of course he’d expect a few favours in return...

Balthasar brought frankincense. [place a figure in the crib scene]

This is a resin that burns to make smoke that smelled very special. Balthasar used this in his prayers and ceremonies. He believed he had worked out the secret of how to talk with God, and he used lots of words, chants and frankincense. Balthasar wanted to make sure the new king really understood this – that he, Balthasar, was the most religious of the wise men. If the new king wanted to understand things about God, well he’d better talk to him.

Melchior brought myrrh. [place a figure in the crib scene]

Myrrh is a perfume, but it’s got a very special use. Myrrh was used to put on people who had died, to stop their bodies being smelly until they were buried. Melchior brought this, because he wanted the new king to know that he – Melchior – was powerful. Sometimes he even decided who lived and who died. Some people were scared of him – really scared of him. Melchior didn’t want to frighten the new king, but he wanted him to know how big and strong he was.

Now those three wise men thought that they were very clever, rich and powerful. People were really impressed as they travelled through the towns, with their servants and animals following on. They had worked out the direction by looking at the stars, drawing maps and doing very complicated sums. 

And now they were here at the house where Mary, Joseph and the young boy Jesus were staying, and they got ready to present their gifts.

Casper went in first with his gold.  [a young person might carry a ‘gift’ and place it before the crib]

The new king they had come to find was just a toddler, and still lived in a humble home, so Casper was sure his parents would be impressed. Their eyes were wide at such a generous gift, and there next to them was the little boy. Casper put the gold on the floor in front of him. 

But he had a funny feeling when he let go of the gold. As he looked up into the child’s eyes, everything seemed different. Casper realised that though the young boy was grateful, the gold just didn’t seem so precious any more. Casper suddenly thought of the people he loved and cared for, and the people who cared for him and knew deep in his heart that they were much more precious than anything gold could buy. 

Balthasar was next with his frankincense [a young person might carry a ‘gift’ and place it before the crib]

The family welcomed Balthasar too. He gave them a precious container with frankincense inside. It was the same as the kind he used in his temple back home in his ceremonies and prayers. 

But he had a funny feeling when he let go of the frankincense and looked at the little boy. In all his years, in all his trying, in all his searching God had always seemed very far away, hidden behind all the frankincense smoke that he sent up before his altars and statues. However, when he caught the little boy Jesus’ eyes, he felt closer to God than he ever had. In all the busyness of his religion, and all the pride he had in how devout he was, he knew he had missed something, and now he had found what it was. In this little house, at last God was very close.

Melchior was last [a young person might carry a ‘gift’ and place it before the crib]

He liked being a bit scary – it actually made him feel less nervous when he was in a group of people. But when he walked in with his gift, things didn’t quite go to plan. Joseph and Mary looked at him nervously, but the little boy just stared at him, and then he smiled. To Melchior’s astonishment, the toddler then walked fearlessly over to him and touched his hand. Melchior was so surprised, he just quietly handed the flask of perfume to Mary. 

As he handed it over, he had a funny feeling. Melchior had practised something to say in the family’s own language, as he was from another country, but all his words failed him. He realised that there was something here much more powerful than anything he had – the power of love. More powerful than him, and more powerful even than death itself. This little boy's lack of fear, and unconditional welcome had shown him just how powerful that could be.

So picture yourself entering that house. What would you be bringing and why? What would you be hoping would happen? Do you think you might be surprised, just as the wise men were?

Palm Sunday: The Little Boy's Story

A couple of years ago, I wrote a monologue for Palm Sunday evening. It was written from the point of view of a child who witnessed Jesus' entry into Jerusalem. I thought it would be appropriate to share it again here today.

Matthew 21:1-17

The Little Boy's Story

He was good with children. It’s a few years back now, but I remember him as vividly as if it was yesterday.

The first time I saw him was early on – everyone seemed to be talking about him. It was very exciting. One day, my parents took me to see Jesus. I had been ill as a young child, apparently, and they wanted Jesus to bless me. I guess they thought it might protect me from any further problems. We got quite close. There was a little group of us who were kids, and I expect we were making a little bit of noise. He looked at us, and there was a delight in his eyes to see us, and I trusted him completely. We were so excited, but then a few of his followers told us to be quiet and go away. “The teacher isn’t here for children”, they said.

That’s when I first heard his voice, strong and clear, but with a kindness I can’t quite describe. “No!” he said in a loud voice that made everyone jump. “Let the children come to me, and don’t you dare stop them. My father’s kingdom belongs to people who follow me and trust me like children do. Learn from them.” After that, I’m sure he took extra time to talk to each of us and bless us. His disciples looked really shamefaced.

When we heard that Jesus was coming into Jerusalem just before the Passover Festival, we had to be there. Early in the day, my dad took me to the road into the city, quite near the gate. And we waited at the roadside with great excitement – I think my dad was as excited as I was.

You could hear the crowd coming a mile off. “Hosanna! Hosanna!”, people were shouting. They had cut down palm leaves and had put branches and their cloaks in the road. People were singing and dancing and celebrating, and we all got carried away with the atmosphere. My dad and I managed to slip into the procession just a little bit behind Jesus and we followed him up into the city. It was as if Jesus was my hero – I felt like I would have done anything for him at that moment.

The first thing Jesus did was head up to the Temple, and the next thing we knew all these people were rushing out – carrying bags of money and cages of birds. “They’re all crooks”, said my dad “about time they were taught a lesson.” Jesus was looking angry – a bit like he did when he told off his disciples about the children. “This should be a place for prayer, but you’ve turned it into a place to steal from people seeking my Father”, he shouted. But I wasn’t scared, because I trusted him. In fact, I thought he was brilliant.

We sneaked in, and there were some more children there, and we soon made up a song and sang it about Jesus. The grown-ups in the Temple were a bit like the other ones – they complained about us. But Jesus spoke up for us again. “These children are singing the truth”, he said. “Sometimes children can hear God much more clearly than you who think you know so much.”

While he was saying this, he caught my eye for a moment. I saw the kindness I had known before, even a little of the delight, but I was shocked to see something else. There was a sadness in his eyes too, a pained look that mean I knew something was wrong. Something bad was going to happen. It was the look people have when they say goodbye to go on a long journey, not knowing if – or when - they will return. I had no idea then what would lie ahead – how could I? I was just a child. But I could see what he was feeling, and for the first and only time it made me a little bit scared. Not of him, but for him.

He needed his friends more than ever, but despite all the people round him, he seemed lonelier than I had ever seen him. He was starting something only he could do, and all I could do was treasure the memories I had and watch and wait to see what would happen.

“Come on”, said Dad, “we’ve a Passover to prepare”. It would be one I would never forget.