help your father in his old age,

Perhaps as much for curiosity as to be better informed, I have begun reading through The Apocrypha. I have known it as encouragement for righteous living in times of difficulty and opposition (for the Jews after the Babylonian Exile this meant the pressures to conform to Babylonian, Persian, and Greek paganism). Some of the stories are fascinating and instructive such as the story of Susanna and the Elders http://nstolpewriting.blogspot.com/…/susanna-as-case-study-….

Last weekend Candy and I visited her 92 year old Dad in MN. He is still living in his own home but with decreasing strength, we feel he needs more care than Sue, his part-time care giver can provide (as does she). He has been in that house 48 years and south Minneapolis his whole life, so considering a change is daunting.

Then I encountered this in Sirach 3:12-14. Understand, I am not taking this as some message from God about a specific plan to follow, but I found it did prompt me to think about how best to related to him in these days, to pray for him, and to share the quote with Candy, for whom it prompted gratitude for our children's care for us, especially Rachel and David with whom we share a duplex in Milwaukee and whose love was well expressed in conversation last evening.

My child, help your father in his old age,
and do not grieve him as long as he lives;
even if his mind fails, be patient with him;
because you have all your faculties do not despise him.
For kindness to a father will not be forgotten.

Contemplating Fires at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem

Both Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem burned yesterday. Both are not just religious shrines but cultural and artistic treasures. Both fires seem to have been accidental, thankfully not violent hatred. Also thankfully, no one died or was seriously injured in either fire. Given both the human propensity for provincialism and that the Notre Dame fire was more spectacular and damaging, that the Western press gave it more attention may be disappointing but is not surprising.

The antiquity of both sites speaks to the depth and universality of visceral reaction to these fires. The Notre Dame Cathedral was built from 1163-1345. The Al-Aqsa Mosque was first built in 705 and rebuilt on several occasions: 746, 780, 1187. Such ancient shrines suggest a sort of affirmation of immortality against our awareness of transitory human mortality. When their vulnerability to mundane hazards becomes obvious, our confidence in these anchors is shaken and we are confronted by the reality of human fragility. I recently wrote of contemplating mortality (http://nstolpepilgrim.blogspot.com/2019/02/contemplation-of-mortality.html) in which I quoted Psalm 49:10-13. This excerpt seems especially poignant today. “Though they named lands their own, mortals cannot abide in their pomp.”

I must confess to some ambivalence as I consider the future path for each of these sites. Repairing the damage to the Al-Aqsa Mosque seems to be less daunting or expensive than the Notre Dame Cathedral and will probably proceed without much notice. Notre Dame Cathedral was already being renovated, and that work may have sparked the fire. Many millions of dollars (Euros probably despite US news reporting) had already been raised for that effort and will certainly be used to repair the fire damage. Without a doubt, many millions more will be needed to do that now. The source of these funds seems to largely be private donors interest in cultural preservation and not the gifts of the faithful for the cathedral’s ministry. I know nothing about those workings, though I would not be surprised if the cultural had not eclipsed the religious function of the cathedral long ago. To be sure, even with all of our modern technology, we no longer have people with the craft skills or the materials or patience for the kind of work that built the cathedral in the first place, so it will not be “restored” to what it was. In other times, its upkeep was neglected and “restoration” efforts were not a return to the original.

The magnitude of the cost of even modest repair of yesterday’s damage is staggering. I do not think I am alone in my ambivalence at pouring that kind of money into this project when food and water, health and housing, peace and justice are so lacking for so many people in the world, and even in the prosperous, developed West (including the US). This evoked for me some of the emotions I had when visiting St. Peter’s Basilica when I was on pilgrimage in Rome in 2004. As I marveled at the grandeur  of the architecture, art, and history there, I grimaced at the realization that this was originally funded by the sale of indulgences to many poor and ordinary Christians in Europe that triggered Martin Luther’s reaction and unleased the Reformation. It’s ongoing upkeep is very expensive. I don’t want to look at all of this through my Protestant eyes, but first as a human and then as a follower of Jesus, who I can’t imagine commissioning such a project. Yet, I value what it contains and conveys.

So I am not at all suggesting that I know what should be done in either Paris or Jerusalem in the wake of yesterday’s fires. Rather, I am prompted in my contemplation to consider how all human life is transitory – even the things we consider permanent. We are tempted to think of the antiquities with which we identify as eternal or symbols of eternality, which strikes me as tantamount to idolatry. I am also prompted to ponder in God’s presence my priorities, and those of the society in which I live, for the care of people who live in need, often dire need, of the basics of life: food and water, health and housing, peace and justice. I am espousing no opinion or position. I am proposing no plan for proceeding. Nor am I suggesting wallowing in blame, shame, or helplessness. Rather, as the news of these fires unfolds, I intend to gaze unswervingly, unflinchingly into the cracks and spaces of my discomforts to catch a glimpse of the presence of God.

Jesus' Invitation to the Self-Righteous to Celebrate the Clearly Unrighteous

Last week, as I considered the Parable of the Prodigal Son in my lectio divina, I wrestled with how this came as the climax of three “lost and found” parables that Jesus told because “the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow [Jesus] welcomes sinners and eats with them.’” (Luke 15:2) To just consider this a rebuke to the self-righteous religious leaders just seemed inadequate. Thank you, Sarah MacDonald, for your worship message for Milwaukee Mennonite Church yesterday that help clarify and articulate some of the thoughts I had but couldn’t quite assemble during the week.

Just as the father invited the elder son to join the celebration of the younger son’s return, with these parables, Jesus was inviting the religious leaders to loosen their grip on their stifling self-righteousness and enter into the joy of welcoming and celebrating those who were returning to life.

With the masterful stoke of superb storytelling, Jesus did not finish the story. We are left to wonder whether the elder son came into the party or not? With what attitude and emotions? What was the relationship between the brothers during and after the party? Did the younger brother become a hired hand? What happened after the father died? Similarly, Luke did not indicate the response of the religious leaders to whom Jesus told these parables. We know that as a body, they continued to oppose Jesus to his death. But we also know some followed Jesus – Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea. But here, Luke did not indicate any reaction or response from them to Jesus’ sharply pointed parables clearly directed at them. I think the open-endedness of  both Jesus and Luke were intentional to prompt our divergent thinking and responses.