THE CROSS: BEYOND NARCISSISM

9th September 2007 : Pentecost 15 : Year C
9:30am Westfield
Jeremiah 18:1-11 Philemon 1-25 : Luke 14:25-35

Narcissism is a term first used in relation to human thought and behavior by the
Austrian physician and psychiatrist Sigmund Freud.

Narcissism is a set of character traits concerned with self-admiration, self-centeredness and self-regard. Everyone has some narcissistic traits. However, narcissism can also manifest in an extreme pathological form in some personality disorders such as Narcissistic Personality Disorder wherein the patient overestimates his abilities and has an excessive need for admiration and affirmation. This may be present to such a degree that it severely damages the person's ability to live a productive or happy life because the traits manifest as severe selfishness and disregard for the needs and feelings of others.[†]

That’s a quotation from Wikipedia[‡‡] , the “free online encyclopaedia”, and the reason I’ve begun with the topic of narcissism is because I suspect it’s one of the factors that contribute to my discomfort at this gospel passage.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a confession that I have Narcissistic Personal Disorder. At least, I don’t think I have it! But part of my discomfort here does come from taking this passage at an entirely personal level.

Again, don’t get me wrong. We ARE meant to take this very personally indeed. This IS about the personal cost of following Jesus and Jesus wants us to be absolutely clear about the implications of being one of his followers.

It requires commitment – wholehearted, full-bodied, lifetime commitment. It’s not something we might decide to do as a whim, thinking we’ll just pull out, drift away, fade into the sunset of the next appealing spiritual fancy that comes along.

We know Jesus is serious about this because he uses some pretty uncompromising language, talking for instance about hating our families. As Jesus did earlier in Luke, he boldly assaults one of the foundations of Judaism in telling us to HATE our father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters.

These days we might retreat to the perverse comfort of some throwaway line about how “dysfunctional” our family is but back then it was mighty challenging stuff. Because Jesus actually does say HATE. Not “dislike” or “feel mildly ticked-off every now and then” – but HATE.

As in “Nazis hate Jews, among others”. As in “most people who live with the delusion of normality hate paedophiles”. As in that disastrously unchristian Christian web site, “God hates fags”.

It’s a pretty good attention-grabber. …Talk about getting you round the throat in a vice-like grip!

And no, Jesus isn’t advising us to respond literally. But he is making a crucial – pardon the pun – point. He does want us to be clear that becoming one of his followers is the most serious commitment we will ever make and that it lasts a lifetime.

So he’s saying, Be absolutely sure what you’re doing. In the gospel words: “count the cost”. Yes, I AM asking you to choose between family and me; I AM demanding your undivided attention AND commitment; I AM telling you that this isn’t just a pastime, a phase, something to do when you feel bored or terrified or there’s nothing worth watching on the telly.

And all of that fundamentally disturbs the wee narcissist lurking, I suspect, in all of us. It certainly challenges me at two narcissistic levels: first because it demands that I think clearly, concisely and consciously about someone other than moi (despite today’s continuing obsession with the “most important person in the world – [ME]”); and second, because Jesus’ challenge makes me think that “taking up the cross” is something that ONLY affects me.

I’ve begun reading a book by Kent Ira Groff, Active spirituality: a guide for seekers and ministers. In the introduction Groff tells a story about a parishioner and his pastor, both of whom felt spiritual dry. So dry that they were unable to see the possibility of helping each other through that terrifying experience.

Groff makes the comment, sadly but without judgement, that neither was able to bring their burdens to the cross and lay them down for healing.

It got me thinking. It began to remind me of one of the late scenes in the movie Kingdom of heaven, in which the most arrogant of the Crusaders march to their doom. They leave Jerusalem boldly parading what was historically regarded as the True Cross, garishly decorated in plated gold, glinting at the desert sun, the symbol, ultimately of their folly and greed. Cut to the aftermath of the battle and we see the same cross, in the background, surrounded by the dead bodies of its erstwhile defenders, stripped of its finery but still standing – standing in the midst of pain and suffering, human misery piled high around it.

The irony and the paradox of that scene remains. The cross that stands in the midst of pain and suffering – the very symbol in our faith of pain and suffering – is EXACTLY where it should be. It is EXACTLY what it should be – the place where all who suffer come for hope and healing.

And when Jesus tells us to take up the cross he is doing so in the knowledge that if we truly hold HIS cross then those who suffer, those who are lost, the weak, the impoverished, the oppressed – will come to it sooner or later. It is and will continue to be, for them, the hope they need, the hope they crave, the hope for which they might not even know they yearn.

Are we who claim to be Jesus’ followers, cross-carriers, prepared to encounter and assist those kind of people? The lost, the broken, the damaged … Are we prepared to recognise and admit that we ourselves are among them? Are we willing to love the kind of people – society’s flotsam and jetsam – who inhabit places like the caravan park across the road?

Because that is what will happen if we really ARE carrying Jesus’ cross. That is what will happen if we really ARE being Jesus.

So the challenge is only partly about me and my response to the cross and the demands such a personal response might make. It’s also about being prepared to stand in the midst of suffering because THAT is the place where the cross of Jesus stands.

Let’s continue, then, to reflect on these twin challenges. Are we in the Parish of the Holy Spirit, Westfield, prepared to make a wholehearted – body, mind, soul and strength – commitment to Jesus? and are we willing to receive and accept those who come to his cross seeking hope and healing?

Alistair Bain, Priest-in-Charge, Westfield

[†] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcissistic_personality_disorder and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Personality_disorder.
[‡‡] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Page

GOD'S GRACIOUS PARTY INVITATION!

PENTECOST 14 02-09-07
Jeremiah 2:4-13
Psalm 81:2, 10-16
Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16
Luke 14:1-14

I like parties. I like dinner parties, dancing parties, fancy dress parties, scruffy BBQ parties; I like meeting-new-friends parties, formal parties, impromptu backyard parties- if there’s a party, I’ll be in it. If we have a party, we’ll plan and shop and cook and re-arrange furniture and wear ourselves out; but thoroughly enjoy offering hospitality to our friends and family. Today we have family coming over for lunch to celebrate Father’s Day.

So when I was reading Luke this week, I had a few niggles of guilt. When I give a banquet- well, maybe a BBQ- do I invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind? Or do I invite my family and friends? I don’t invite my rich neighbours because I haven’t got any.

I thought back to all the parties we’ve given over the years and the people we’ve entertained, and couldn’t really think of any particularly disabled guests. (A few slightly odd ones, perhaps)

Of course, in Jesus’ time people who were disabled would most likely be in desperate straits, because if you couldn’t work, you didn’t eat: no disability pension in those days. So he was referring to those in society who were helpless and possibly starving.

OK then, I thought: but I haven’t entertained anyone who was starving either: I don’t personally know anyone who is so poor they don’t have enough to eat.

So are we wrong to have parties for our friends and families? I came to the conclusion that Jesus wasn’t saying that, because it would contradict his own lifestyle: the gospels present him as quite a party animal. Luke’s gospel has around eight different stories of Jesus at dinner with various people.

Surely then Jesus didn’t mean that we shouldn’t ever have a party for our friends: that isn’t the point of what he was saying.

The point is that we should give help to people who cannot possibly give anything back to us. The social scene in Jesus’ day was very different to ours, but perhaps similar in that if someone invited a guest to dinner, that guest would be expected to return the favour.

This principle of reciprocity was widely current and accepted in the ancient world, and to a large extent it still is today. We expect people to reciprocate. If I give you a Christmas present, I expect you will give me a Christmas present. If I invite you to my birthday party, I would be a bit miffed if you didn’t invite me to yours!

In business it can be the same: quid pro quo, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. This appeals to our sense of fairness and justice: if I help you, I expect you to help me.

That’s all well and good, but does that mean that if I know you couldn’t possibly return the favour I won’t help you?

I think Jesus is telling us that we should seek to give to those who are so needy they cannot give anything in return. I may not be able to invite a hungry refugee to dinner but I can send money to an organisation that will feed her.

Jesus said ‘you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.’ This still sounds like we’d be doing a good deed in the hope of a reward, even if the reward isn’t collected until after you die.

Perhaps Jesus is simply saying don’t worry about it, don’t think about rewards because God has it all in hand. And after all, think about how God acts: God gives to us without hope of recompense or reward, because what could we possibly do for God? The Creator of the Universe loves us but doesn’t need or want us to pay back all that we are given.

This passage is about an attitude that leads to action. My attitude should be one of humility: I am no better or worse than anybody else, so it doesn’t matter where I sit at the table. My attitude should be that God has given me everything I have, and I am free to give to those who are struggling without expecting anything in return.

How did the people at the leader of the Pharisee’s dinner respond to what Jesus said? We’re not told, but we can guess that they were not too thrilled. What Jesus said probably sounded quite strange; in those days, the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind were thought to be those from whom God had withheld blessing. Their afflictions were believed to have resulted from sin. They were excluded from the Temple and considered unclean, so why would any good Jew invite them to dinner?

Today, we don’t tend to believe that people are poor, sick or disabled as a result of sin, although sin may be a direct or indirect cause of affliction. A family may be living in poverty because of a corrupt government; a person could be crippled after being hit by a drunk driver. But we don’t look at a disabled person and say he or she must have sinned to be in that condition, as people seem to have done in ancient times. So is there an application of this for us today?

Who do we exclude from our hospitality? Are we truly an inclusive, welcoming church, parish, community, or family? Do we make the good news of the kingdom easily accessible to everyone? We need, as a parish, to take up the challenge of giving away the gospel to all who need to hear it. That includes people who would never darken a church door as well as those who might join us here.

May we go from here encouraged to think about how we can be like Jesus, ready to turn the values of society upside-down if they would have us limit our generosity to people like ourselves.

God’s grace is without limit: God’s parties are open to everyone. Let’s make sure we tell people.

Let us pray.
Loving God,
Thank you for everything, for it is all your gift.
Encourage us to share, to give, and to demand nothing in return.
Encourage us to have attitudes that lead to action.
Encourage us to see that, although our lives may seem small and insignificant, we can make a difference in the world.
When we are tempted to give in to the culture of greed that permeates our world, remind us of Jesus, whose life demonstrated self-giving at its greatest.
For it is in his name that we pray. Amen.

Lorna Green, Assistant Curate, Westfield