The sermons I have been hearing here – oh, by the way the church is called CCCK (Christian Community Church, Kabul) – are at a different level altogether from those we quite often hear in India. I am particularly thinking about the mainline churches, including sadly the Methodist Church. I remember a service in Bangalore when the pastor thought it fit to expound on the Methodist rule book. There are no coded messages, no wasting of time with that which does not profit.
It was David Michael of Peace Bridge whose turn it was to preach this time. And he based his text on the familiar passage in Luke 10 which talks about the different responses of the Bethany sisters to Jesus’s presence. Before David went into the message he reeled out a story about a missionary couple that generated plenty of laughter. He ended it on a poignant note on how sometimes we can get so caught up in activity that we miss the real joy of fellowshipping with the Lord.
Back to Martha. She was caught up in a lot of activity. Pause for a moment. Things that had to be done? So this story talks about the Stress one can bring upon oneself by activities. And then Separation and a question to the Lord of lords; “Lord, don’t you care?” Fancy that. Who is being addressed and what a question? Martha has gone into a semi-comfortable, functional relationship with the Lord. And thirdly, such lack of prioritization results in Division. “Tell her; her own sister to boot! Oh, it was quite beautifully presented.
And on another Sunday – sorry Friday, I heard the most wonderful, in-depth, set in the middle eastern context expounding of the story of the Prodigal Son. Let me just give you some highlights. When the younger son asked for his share of the property, it was a death-wish on the father, for property divisions do not take place until the father is dieing or dead. To the younger son, the father doesn’t exist any more. He was cutting himself off. Yet the father, unmindful of the enormous shame it cost him in his village, lets the son go. Frightening freedom. And a falling away from the banquet table.
Then the image of the father pursuing his son. He must have been looking out for him day and night. When he was still a long way off, he runs. He, the village elder, tucking his robes and running. The sort of thing that is never done. Men of honour do not run. But here was the father, running. You know why? To prevent the younger son from suffering shame and scorn from the village folk as he enters. The father runs towards those who are lost.
At this point, the younger son is still not repentant. No clue to the reconciliation that is possible. But he is sadly still in a lowly state of filling his stomach even as a hired labor as against permanent staff. In that position, he reckons he wouldn’t have to reconcile with his father. Get the wages, do one’s own thing. Have nothing to do with the father.
But the father would have none of it. Nothing less than restoration of son-ship and a place at the banquet table. Many in the Moslem world say “fine, the son went astray. The father is merciful. He forgave him. Where is the need for the cross?” little understanding the enormous price the father paid, the guilt and the shame he took upon himself in doing the work of redemption. Oh, the story is really about a prodigal father; a father who is so generous, so recklessly abundant in his love.
And then it is the elder son insulting the father by refusing to enter the gate and come to the banquet table. Physically close all the time but spiritually and emotionally distant. Both sons were estranged and rebellious – one when absent from the house and the other right there. The father humiliates himself and empties himself for the second time that day in trying to bring him around.
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23 June 2005 Judah