Category: Monday Morning Blog

Chapter 43

Good Monday Morning to this week 43 of 2023

A God who limits himself to actions that we humans can understand couldn’t possibly be God. Hasidic

A Hasidic rabbi lost his wife and 11 children in the Holocaust. Afterwards, he was asked, “Why did miracles occur only during biblical times? Why don’t they happen in our time?” The rabbi replied, “The fact that there are Holocaust survivors who, after all they endured, can still keep faith, is itself, the greatest miracle of all.”

Over the past two weeks, we’ve explored the stories of the good Samaritan and the bad Samaritan. But what if there exists an uncertain Samaritan? Could that be reflective of us? We grapple with uncertainties in comprehending what we read and face the complexities of our ever-evolving lives. As we witness the unfolding events in the Middle East, we find ourselves questioning the decisions made by the various groups entangled in this conflict.

In Isreal, Palestine and other countries of the Middle East there are countless individuals that demonstrate profound faith, living out their beliefs amidst incredibly challenging circumstances. They selflessly serve those in desperate need, embodying love, compassion, faith, and forgiveness. Regrettably, these inspiring stories often remain overshadowed by the headlines in mainstream media.

The Allais paradox illustrates that human decision-making can be complex and influenced by a range of cognitive biases and psychological factors, challenging the assumptions of classical economic models. The Allais paradox reveals that people don’t always make decisions the way standard theory predicts. Instead of always being perfectly rational, we often make choices based on our feelings and instincts. This paradox breaks a rule in the standard theory, which says our preferences shouldn’t change when the odds or payouts of two options are adjusted equally. The Allais paradox shows that this rule doesn’t always hold in real life.

In the early 1970s, the Israeli psychologists Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky examined the Allais paradox, captivated by the mystery of why people didn’t respond to probabilities in a straightforward way. Upon rephrasing questions in terms of gains and losses, they swiftly discerned a fundamental human aversion to losses. This aversion played a significant role in our general discomfort with risk. Because we feel the negative impact of risky decisions (losses) more intensely than the benefits (gains), most risks register as unwise choices. Additionally, options that offer certainty become particularly appealing, as they carry no risk. In the words of Kahneman and Tversky, “In human decision making, losses loom larger than gains.” They termed this phenomenon “loss aversion.”

Is this where faith comes is? Is this where faith isn’t based on the “loss aversion” but has it’s roots found in the risk-taking?

Ecclesiastes 11: 4-6; As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things. Sow your seed in the morning, and in the evening let your hands not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether both will do equally well.

Connecting the Allais Paradox and Faith involves exploring the intersection of decision-making under uncertainty and matters of belief.

Embracing uncertainty through faith entails placing trust in God’s greater purpose, rather than solely relying on our own judgments. It necessitates relinquishing the need for total control, a surrender that may occur naturally given life’s unpredictable circumstances, which are all too evident in our current reality. In the teachings of Jesus, we find profound encouragement for believers to draw strength from adversity, especially in the face of uncertainty.

This sheds a beautiful light on the beatitudes. When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Faith serves as a guiding compass in decision-making, often embodying principles that may not always align with conventional models or other ideas described in the Allais Paradox. Concepts such as generosity and forgiveness, rooted in faith, will significantly influence our choices. Moreover, faith is a wellspring of resilience. It doesn’t derive from anxiety surrounding uncertain decisions but rather manifests in decisions grounded in the boldness of faith and the trust in God.

May your week be filled with faith and may it be a time when many peacemakers emerge!

Philemon

Chapter 42

Good Monday Morning to the week 42 of 2023

I felt a sense of relief as we boarded our flight out of Jordan, heading back home after an extended journey through Israel to Jordan. As I perused the inflight entertainment offerings from Turkish Airlines, I couldn’t help but reflect on my recent visit to the very spot in Israel where the story of the Good Samaritan unfolded. To my surprise, I came across the film ‘Bad Samaritan’ in the list of available movies. Although I didn’t end up watching it, the very concept intrigued me.

The “Bad Samaritan” is an inversion of the traditional notion of a “Good Samaritan”, highlighting the moral conflict and transformation that the protagonist undergoes throughout the course of the film. Instead of a person helping someone in need, the protagonist takes advantage of his job as a valet to rob houses, displaying selfish and immoral behaviour. However, his encounter with the wicked antagonist, brings him into a situation where he must confront his own actions and ultimately take on the role of a reluctant “Good Samaritan” in order to save a woman imprisoned.

Over the past week, we have been confronted with images depicting the utmost embodiment of evil, displayed in its most grotesque form imaginable. I’ve delved extensively into reports, interviews, and accounts, absorbing a great deal of information. We bore witness to the evacuation of numerous Jewish individuals from a Kibbutz along the southern border of Israel, adjacent to Gaza. Periodically, the heart-wrenching cries of mothers and fathers pierced the air of the hotel to shelter them as they received devastating news, slowly uncovering the grim details of the heinous massacre that unfolded within their homes, involving their families and children.

We bore witness to moments reminiscent of Jeremiah, where Rachel wept for her children. Then, we found solace in the verses from Isaiah 49:14-18:

But Zion said, “The Lord has forsaken me,
the Lord has forgotten me. Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget,
I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are ever before me. Your children hasten back,
and those who laid you waste depart from you. Lift up your eyes and look around;
all your children gather and come to you. As surely as I live,” declares the Lord,
you will wear them all as ornaments; you will put them on, like a bride.

These verses resonate with the profound reassurance of God’s unwavering love and remembrance, even in times of great distress.

I embarked on a journey to Israel, often sharing with our group my hope to find Jesus in Israel. As I glimpsed the land and later prepared to depart, a growing certainty settled within me – the Jesus I sought wasn’t to be found, bound to the physical terrain. We encountered vast stretches of desert, arid and devoid of life, and caught wind of the whispers of war. Soon, the echoes of rockets surrounded us, thrusting us into the heart of conflict. In the midst of chaos, my conviction deepened – Jesus wasn’t confined to this landscape. Ultimately, we navigated our way to safety, only to witness our haven, the hotel, transform into a refuge for countless people. It was in this refuge that the first stirrings of Jesus’ presence touched me. He didn’t manifest in a tangible, territorial form, but rather, in the collective comfort and embrace and solace shared among the members of the Kibbutz as they navigated their grief. There, amidst that community, I started to find Jesus in Israel.

The Jesus we follow, the one we’ve come to know through Sunday school, through the timeless stories of the Bible, through spiritual encounter, including the frequently cited parable of the Good Samaritan, has always been a beacon of compassion and kindness. But what if there’s another facet to this narrative? What if it’s not just the Good Samaritan that leads us to Jesus, but also the Bad Samaritan? Is it possible that even in the actions, seasons, times of those and that that we perceive as the “Bad Samaritan” there’s a potential pathway to Him? Could it be that in our current times, we’re witnessing this inversion of the story. These questions challenge me to reconsider my perspectives and perhaps discover Jesus in unexpected times and places.

Has Zion forsaken its people? Has He slumbered, or turned His face away? Or, perhaps, the contrary is true—now, He has turned His face again, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the forgotten and the despised. Is this the moment spoken of in Isaiah, where many will encounter Him as written, ‘I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me’.?

Wishing you an inspired start to this week as you wrestle with these tensions in your personal setting, life, church and country.

Philemon 

Chapter 41

Good Monday Morning to this new week 41 of 2023

As I sit here with an amazing view of the Dead Sea, many thoughts come to my mind this Monday Morning. Through growing up in a christian family the Bible was read to me from very early on, the stories of the Bible shared at Sunday School and the became quite alive. Now I sit here in Israel, moved by all the events of yesterday, in shock with all those suffering, in mourning, taken hostage, and the on-going war that started with such surprise and intensity.

As we came out of the shelter, we made our way down from Jerusalem, down the steep highway, past the many homes of the Beduins, the story of the good Samaritan comes to my mind.

A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who. The Jewish traveller was stripped of clothing, beaten and left half dead alongside the road. First a Jewish priest and then a Levite come by, but both avoid the man. Finally a Samaritan happens upon the traveller. Although both Samaritans and Jews despised one another the Samaritan helps the injured man. This all to underline the story and parable Jesus was telling in response to the question; And who is my neighbour? The neighbour in conclusion is the one who shows mercy. Some see it was allegory to Jesus story of coming to save “the other” , others see it as an example of the ethics of Jesus.

So many awful things happened in that surprise attack of the Hammas. So many in Palestine and Israel woke up to the question, who is my neighbour? Is my neighbour still my friend, be he a Jew, a Samaritan, a Muslim or another?

The Samaritan centre of worship is on Mount Gerizim in the present day West Bank, instead of Jerusalem. Yes, this parable challenges social norms and prejudice based on ethnic origin, religious affiliation and where people made their home. Today the Samaritans number only around 1000 people, most in communities outside of Tel Aviv and near the West Bank city of Nablus, where they find themselves situated between Israeli and Palestinian cultures. Most hold Israeli citizenship, and have Israeli health insurance, but many also attend Palestinian schools, speak Arabic and have both Hebrew and Arabic names. The small size of the modern Samaritan makes them easy to overlook.

For those who are willing to listen, the message of the Good Samaritan – a message of kindness, not blinded by nationalistic, religious or ethnic prejudice – resonates as loudly as it ever has.

There are many good Samaritans now in Israel. There are many good Samaritans in Palestine, many in neighbourhoods and many in Christian communities. My prayer as this new week starts that we will hear many stories of good samaritans rising up, daring to do the unexpected, to reach a hand, to go the extra mile and live the deeper meaning of this parable even in the extent of brutal violence, killing and war as we see unfolding here, once again in Israel and Palestine.

I wish you all a good start to this new week, blessed in many ways with compassion and courage to build bridges where there seem to be no more bridges.

Philemon

Chapter 40

Good Monday morning to this week 40 of 2023

As we try to understand the ongoing developments in the Lachin Corridor, a crucial chapter in history unfolds before us. Here, countless Armenians are relocating from the Nagorno-Karabakh Autonomous Region following Azerbaijan’s complete takeover. In this context, it’s good to know the deep historical and religious roots that have shaped the region, especially considering its association with St. Gregory the Illuminator, the patron saint and evangelizer of Armenia.

Armenia, renowned as the first country to embrace Christianity, holds St. Gregory in high esteem. Born around 257, his early life was marked by adversity as his father assassinated the King of Parthia, necessitating his relocation to Caesarea in Cappadocia for protection. Raised as a Christian, he returned to Armenia around 280, initially facing harsh treatment. However, through his unwavering faith and evangelism, he led King Tiridates and a significant portion of the population to Christianity. By 300, Gregory became the first bishop of Armenia, leaving a lasting legacy that Armenians continue to honour.

In the fourth century, after Armenia’s conversion to Christianity, the Kingdom of Albania (distinct from the Balkan country of the same name) also adopted Christianity, thanks to St. Gregory’s efforts. Grigoris, St. Gregory’s grandson, was appointed the head of the Albanian Church in 330 AD. He met a martyr’s fate in 338 while spreading the faith near Derbent in the region that is now part of Russia’s Dagestan. His remains were interred in Amaras, a region that would go on to hold immense significance for the Armenian Apostolic Church and pilgrims alike.

Historical accounts suggest that St. Gregory the Illuminator established the Amaras Monastery at the start of the fourth century. It was in Amaras that St. Grigoris found his eternal resting place, with a tomb constructed beneath the apse of the nineteenth-century Church of St. Grigoris.

However, the centuries were not kind to Amaras. It suffered repeated plundering, destruction, and reconstruction. The Mongols ravaged it in the thirteenth century, Timur’s invasion razed it in 1387, and the sixteenth century saw it demolished once more. In the early seventeenth century, the surviving defensive walls underwent significant alterations. Abandoned for a time, the monastery became a frontier fortress for Russian imperial troops in the first half of the nineteenth century.

Amaras was eventually reclaimed by the Armenian Apostolic Church in 1848. The original monastery church had suffered extensive damage during its occupation, necessitating the construction of a new church dedicated to St. Grigoris in 1858. This undertaking was made possible through the contributions of Armenians from the city of Shushi.

Fast forward to the present day, and we find Amaras Monastery at the intersection of history and modernity. Amid the 2023 Nagorno-Karabakh clashes, reports emerged that the monastery came under Azerbaijani control on September 20, 2023.

Back to St Gregory …

With Gregory imprisoned in a deep pit, King Tiridat launched a brutal persecution of Christians across his realm, beginning with Hripsime, who had rejected his advances. However, Tiridat’s mental state deteriorated, and he exhibited erratic behaviour, even behaving like a wild beast while hunting. This led to the legend that he had transformed into a boar.

Despite the efforts of a beloved king and Tiridat’s sister, Khosrovidought, to restore his sanity, their attempts proved futile. Khosrovidought had a dream in which she saw Gregory emerging from the dungeon and healing her brother. She shared her dream with the royal court, proclaiming that Gregory was alive and the only one capable of curing the King.

As Tiridat’s condition worsened, men ventured to the pit and, to their astonishment, heard a faint “yes” in response to the question: “Gregory, are you still alive?” They lowered a rope and rescued a man with a long beard and tattered clothes. Despite his disheveled appearance, Gregory’s face radiated an inner light. After dressing him appropriately, they presented him to Tiridat.

Overwhelmed by an uncontrollable force, Tiridat knelt before his former prisoner. Gregory placed his hands on the King’s head and prayed. Miraculously, Tiridat was healed and transformed into a new man. He declared, “Your God is my God; your religion is my religion.” Gregory lifted him up and embraced him. From that moment until their deaths, they remained faithful friends and worked together, each in their own way, to establish the Kingdom of God in Armenia, beginning in the year 301 AD.

Gregory initially converted the people in the capital city and its vicinity. However, the severe persecutions by Tiridat had left Armenia devoid of bishops and clergymen. Consequently, Gregory, who was still a layman, had no one to baptize the new believers. The Royal Council made the decision to send Gregory to Cæsarea to be ordained as the bishop of Armenia. By that time, his reputation as a miraculous confessor and a remarkable missionary had already spread far and wide to Cæsarea and beyond.

The story of Amaras Monastery and St Gregory is a testament to the enduring spiritual significance of Armenia and its people, even in the face of historical trials and unprecedented challenges.

I wish you an inspired start to this new week.
Philemon

Good Monday Morning to this week 39 of 2023

Chapter 39

Today I listened to a podcast with J. Kaldeway after his writing of the book called “Large heaven, and little hell”. The speaker shared his theological views on heaven and hell and made this comment about evil … that’s it’s also like a sown seed!

I quote; There is profoundly, irreversible wicked. The evil one, as written in the Bible, is so hardened against God that God no longer wills to reverse the evil. Yet, from God comes an act of mercy to erase the evil. Evil is the refusal to respond to God’s strong pull, he keeps going after us seeking to draw us to him through his Grace. Because the human will is so broken, so weak, and so entangled in circumstances, God takes this weak, broken will into account. He considers it to such an extent that He will create a new Earth and a new city – called the New Jerusalem. That’s also why God sent His son, Jesus, that many will be saved. The question of the enduring existence of a small hell is raised. As J.K further qutoes, “Punishment is the harvest of what one has sown.” This principle is often quoted in the Bible, emphasizing that individuals will face consequences for their actions. There is a possibility for all people to sow a seed, many will reap heaven by grace and some will reap hell. In hell are people who no longer allow themselves to be redeemed by God, much to the regret of God the Judge.

Judgment is not that God has pronounced a punishment, but that God has waited infinitely long and ultimately no longer pursues the person, letting them reap what they have sown … very difficult thoughts!

Back to the part we know a lot better ….

He said therefore, “What is the kingdom of God like? And to what shall I compare it? It is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his garden, and it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches. (Luke 13:18-19)

The mustard seed is a small seed that comes from the mustard plant, which is a member of the cruciferous family of plants. It is known for its tiny size, typically about 1 to 2 millimeters in diameter, making it one of the smallest seeds in the world.

The mustard seed is used metaphorically to illustrate how something small and seemingly insignificant can grow into something much larger and impactful. The mustard plant itself can grow quite tall, sometimes reaching heights of over six feet, and it produces a large number of seeds. It encourages believers to have faith in the potential for growth and transformation, even if their efforts seem modest or insignificant at first.

As we navigate these profound thoughts, it’s important to remember the message of hope and redemption that underlies them. Through God’s boundless grace and endless patience of calling and going after us, there is an opportunity for all to sow seeds, leading to a harvest in the heavenly.

The intricate interplay between God’s mercy and the consequences of our actions remains a mystery , yet it invites us to reflect on the depths of God’s love and the profound nature of His almighty being.

Wishing you a good start to this new week!

Philemon

Chapter 38

Good Monday Morning to this week 38 of 2023.

On September 18, 1970, the aviation world witnessed a groundbreaking moment. The Boeing 747, a pioneering wide-body airliner, embarked on its maiden commercial voyage as Pan Am Flight 001. It soared through the skies, connecting the bustling streets of New York City to the iconic runways of London Heathrow.

Meanwhile, in a distant and remote corner of the world, an entirely different kind of drama was unfolding. A perilous situation was underway, fraught with difficulty and uncertainty. Yet, from this challenging circumstance emerged a child that came at the cost of 25 Kina at the district hospital of Goroka PNG —a modest sum for the commencement of an intriguing and unpredictable journey!

more to that soon;

Goroka is situated in the central highlands of Papua New Guinea, approximately 1600 meters above sea level. It is surrounded by picturesque mountain ranges and forests.
With a population of 19,000 people, surrounded by the Asaro tribe, also known as the Holosa, those who wear a traditional costume centered around masks made of mud. They live nearby in the villages of Goroka.

As the narrative goes, the Asaro were defeated by an enemy tribe and forced to flee into the Asaro River where they met a man who gave them eyes to kill. They waited until dusk before attempting to escape, yet the one who was given the eyes was captured. The enemy saw him rise from the muddy banks covered in mud and thought he was a spirit. Most tribes in Papua New Guinea are very afraid of spirits. Therefore, the enemy fled in fear, and the Asaro escaped. They then went into the village to see what had happened, not knowing the enemy tribesmen were still there. The enemy were so terrified they ran back to their village and held a special ceremony to ward off the spirits. The mudmen could not cover their faces because legends say that the people of Papua New Guinea thought that the mud from the Asaro river was poisonous. So instead of covering their faces with this alleged poison, they made masks from pebbles that they heated and water from the waterfall.

Another theory highlighted by Georgi Bonev states that: “Several generations ago Asaro had been hunted by a stronger enemy tribe. They were about to lose the war. At that moment, an old man from their village had a dream in which he saw terrifying gray spirit. Next morning, he woke up with the idea to make a mask out of mud that resembles the image from his vision. Once noticed, enemies fled scared and Asaro were saved. Ever since Asaro Mudmen mastered how effectively to use the power of human imagination and the fear of unknown in order to stay alive.”

Or another narrative;
“One of the Asaro got married and everyone wore their traditional costumes. But one man had no costume, so he took an old bilum (a string bag), cut two holes for his eyes, dipped it mud and also covered his skin with mud, and that was his costume. But when he arrived at the wedding, all the others thought he was a ghost and so instead of celebrating, they fled,” said Berry. Due to the reaction of the guests at the wedding, the man realized that he could use his costume to win a protracted tribal war with a neighboring tribe. He asked his brother and his friends to disguise themselves with masks and mud. “So they covered themselves in mud and attacked the tribe, and that is how they won. The enemy thought ghosts were coming and they ran away without firing a single arrow,” Berry said. With their frightening masks, the Mudmen believe that if they can cause fear, then they do not have to go to war. And that is how they wore the masks to avoid battle.

Back then in the 70’s, tribal dances were not put on for the tourists but were an genuine expression of their culture. Markets existed to exchange fresh produce between villages, language barriers were only just breaking down, thanks to use of pidgeon English. Stone axes were treasured for having been used in actual combat, and birds of paradise hunted for their exotic plumes to be turned into headdresses for tribal gatherings including the Goroka show, the biggest one of all. At least the helmets of the Asaro mudmen were more conservation-friendly!

In that setting my Mum embarked on a new chapter of her life. Having bid farewell to the picturesque landscapes of Switzerland at a tender age of 20, she found herself in a foreign land, pregnant with her first son. Just a year prior, she had welcomed a first daughter into the world. Now, here she was, alongside my Dad, in the halls of the district hospital, facing the challenge of a prolonged and arduous labor.

The scent of the distinctive orange bethadine, an antiseptic that had filled the air during those hours, lingered in my memory – well sort of! (smile) – for sure I wasn’t surprise to recognise it again 2003 when I returned to revisit that hospital.

After what felt like an ages it all culminated in the arrival of a new life, me. In that unassuming district hospital in Goroka, amidst the rugged landscape of the highlands, my journey began, a testament to the strength and resilience of a young mother and father finding their place in a new world, now with two children to take care of. Shortly after, we returned to the Lamari valley, to villages called Tokena and Obura about 130km from Goroka where we were to stay for the next three years. A area now known for small farms and wonderful Coffee!

As the curtain falls on this wild chapter to my humble beginnings, my story barrels on with no end in sight! The opening act was a showstopper, complete with Asaso Mudmen, long and slow car rides, tribal fighting, many dangers but also much time out in the beautiful surrounding of the eastern highlands And the following years? Well, let’s just say they were a series of plot twists … that for another chapter!

Now, picture this: my parents, the original superheroes of my saga, have embarked on their ultimate adventure, soaring heavenward. They left behind a legacy of many stories and anecdotes, childhood stories, many of which I have long forgotten.

And then there are those tales that defy explanation, like the mystery of where the Asaro mudmen got their masks. What was the secret mudman really? Was it really about finding peace, by causing fear, to avoid going to war and that all just with a mud musk? We might never find out!

But enough about me! What about you? What’s your story? What adventures are brewing in your cauldron?

As you step into this new week, may it be filled with moments that add color and depth to your story. And if fortune favors you, perhaps our paths will cross today, and you’ll see me “unmasked,” sharing coffee, and cake, celebrating the beauty of this day and the tales it holds!

Philemon

Chapter 37

Good Monday Morning to this new week 37 of 2023

As my eyes followed the map of the Sea of Gallilee near Tiberias, I recognised a set of cities and places sprawled across one side. Soon the question arose – what about the other side? What’s going on over there?

It’s a stark reminder of how we often breeze through the geographical intricacies when delving into our Bible. Without a profound familiarity with the biblical landscapes, we risk glossing over critical details that hold the power to intensify our grasp of the biblical narrative.

In the gospels we read stories where Jesus got into a boat and traveled to the other side.

The Jewish side – the people known as Galileans are the Jewish people that live on the western side of the sea. Their towns were adapted to their Jewish culture with synagogues and ritual cleansing baths. The farming and work practices on this side allowed the people to follow the jewish law and cultural practices. Many of the jewish people stayed in their area of Galilee to avoid the unclean habits of non jewish towns and cities. The Jews also reduced their payment of taxes to Rome if they did not cross the borders into the other regions.

The other side – many other people lived and worked around the Sea of Galilee that were not practicing Jews. There were some hellenized or secular jews living in these towns The towns on the other side of the sea were formed around roman culture and roman styles of building. The towns often had pagan temples, secular bath houses, amphitheatres and cultural buildings.

In passages like Matthew 8 and Mark 5, we find Jesus engaging with teachers of the law, firmly situating Him within the Jewish heartland of Galilee. His remarkable ability to heal the sick serves as a testament to His authority over infirmity. Then, embarking on a boat, Jesus and his disciples venture across the Sea of Galilee. Along this journey, He demonstrates mastery over the tempestuous elements, calming the storm and revealing His dominion over nature itself. Finally, they reach the distant shore.

This terrain, it becomes evident that this region is predominantly associated with pig farming, signaling its status as a Gentile enclave. In Matthew’s narrative, the local populace, predominantly Gentiles, express discontent over the loss of their swine and compel Jesus to depart from their midst. This incident potentially serves as a crucial learning juncture for the disciples, offering them a direct encounter with a non-Jewish community. Mark, on the other hand, portrays a distinct reaction. The healed man returns to “his people” and spreads the astonishing news throughout the Decapolis, a cluster of ten Roman cities. Mark underscores the profound impact of Jesus’ work on the Gentile population, leaving them awestruck.

The Golan is known as Bashan in the Bible, referenced in Deuteronomy 4:43, 1 Kings 4:13, Psalm 22:12, and Isaiah 2:13 for example. This is where the half-tribe of Manasseh settled, and Golan is named as a city of refuge in Joshua 21:27.

The area was also not foreign to the Philistines, who chose the highest parts of the mountains for their idol worship. The Bible specifically mentions Mount Hermon in Judges 3:3 and 1 Chronicles 5:23 as home to the rulers of the Philistines.

These “high places” in the Golan were significant to cultures entertaining idols. It was thought that the higher the point, the holier it was.

Later on, prophet Elijah and the righteous kings Hezekiah and Josiah torn down these type of ‘high places of worship’. They confronted idol worship of the Canaanite gods.

Why did Jesus embark on this voyage to “the other side”?

Jesus didn’t shy away from the other side; He embraced it. With purpose and intent, He beckoned His disciples, saying, “Come, let’s go to the other side.” This call wasn’t merely a physical voyage; it was a challenge, a mission fueled by love, destined for the blessing of others. It was part of the spiritual and physical and emotional journey of Jesus!

Sending warm wishes for a strong start to your week, especially for those of you facing challenges on “the other side” – whatever that may signify in your unique circumstances and context. You’ve got this, Jesus got this, or at least he know’s what you’re going through!

Philemon

Good Monday Morning to this new week of 2023

Chapter 36

In a group of three, during a team meeting we were tasked with discussing financial approaches related to tithing, offering, and their impact on the church. During our brief discussion, we came across a particular Bible verse that left us intrigued. As a result, I decided to delve into some research on the topic today.

“If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” Matthew 19.21

A young seeker’s exceptional devotion attracted the affection of Jesus. This fervent desire for a higher life and deep personal trust made him worthy of Jesus’ love, leading to necessary tests and discipline for his growth.

How do we deal with the profound challenge of this verse.

Statement; “If thou wilt be perfect”, “If thou desirest to be perfect”, “One thing thou lackest,” , “One thing is needful” – Answer; Go and sell that thou hast.

How should the discrepancy between those who claimed to have renounced their possessions, and those who apparently did not, be understood?

Following are some very helpful thoughts out of an article;
The renouncement of possessions according to Matthew 19:16-30 by
Marius J. Nel, Department of Old and New Testament, University of Stellenbosch, South Africa

In terms of Matthew’s community being a possible two tier one, the Essene movement provides a possible analogy since, according to Josephus, it had a two tier social structure comprised of groups adhering to a strict ethos, renouncing both possessions and marriage, and groups with a more temperate ethos, in which both marriage and personal possessions were tolerated. The more temperate Essenes lived scattered about in camps and cities. There was apparently regular contact between the different groupings with those in cities expected to provide hospitality to travelling members. Importantly, both groups were considered to be part of one movement. It is thus a question if the Gospel according to Matthew contains references to both virtuoso and non-virtuoso followers of Jesus. And if so, whether the rich young man could be described as an aspiring religious virtuoso. In order to answer these questions it is important to briefly clarify what is meant by a religious virtuoso and then to enquire if Matthew – specifically 19:16-29 – exhibits the traits common to it. Ilana Silber develops a typology of virtuoso religion based on the work started by Max Weber. According to her typology, virtuoso religion can be summarised as exhibiting five key characteristics

(1) Virtuosi religion is a matter of individual choice, that (2) involves the seeking of perfection in (3) a disciplined, systematic fashion, through a defined rule or method that
(4) implies a normative double standard since its rigour is not possible for all and therefore (5) it is in practice only achieved by a ‘heroic’ minority.

If her fivefold typology is applied to the interaction between Jesus and the rich young man in Matthew 19:16-29, a case can be made that most of the elements which Silber describes as being typical of virtuoso religion are present therein.

According to Matthew, it was the young man’s personal choice to go further than the routine norms and expectations expressed by the Torah since he sought to be perfect (Mt 19:20). In order to become perfect the young man had to be willing to break the social and psychological ties with his family (he had to follow Jesus and travel with his group) as well as with his possessions. Jesus reacted to the young man’s statement that he wanted to lack nothing, by calling him to follow him. The reason for following Jesus is not stated by Matthew. Presumably it was to be instructed in a disciplined, systematic fashion like the twelve disciples who had been called by Jesus. The response of the disciples emphasises that the standard set by Jesus for obtaining perfection was considered impossible to meet. If it was a prerequisite for salvation the disciples conclude that only God could save them. The statement by Peter (Mt 19:27), however, suggests that while the commands of Jesus are stringent the disciples – a ‘heroic’ minority in Silber’s terms – did adhere to them. The response of the Matthean Jesus that not only the twelve disciples, but all who had left their families, property and lands would be rewarded (Mt 19:29) echoes similar references in Matthew to a select few (not only the disciples) who had met the demanding standards set for them (cf. Mt 7:13). It can thus be that some of them had become the religious virtuosi that the rich young man aspired to become.

The preceding overview of the role of possessions in Matthew points to the possibility that while the Matthean community included a settled group, who had not renounced their possessions, it also included a virtuoso group that had, and that was therefore dependant on the support of the settled group. In other words that both the settled and the dispossessed members of one community (or movement) had responded with different levels of commitment to the teaching of Jesus, but that both were considered to be authentic followers of Jesus. This possibility that followers of Jesus had responded differently to his commands and teaching raises questions about the nature and extent of his authority in Matthew.

Since Jesus had left his home and family, he could therefore command those who wanted to follow him to do the same. He could, however, not force them to comply. Thus the rich young man could decline Jesus’ invitation to be his disciple and willingly disobey his command to sell his possessions. The encounter between Jesus and the rich young man is, however, paradoxical in nature since his refusal enhanced Jesus’ reputation as a religious leader who had the authority to give commands that were difficult to obey. Conversely, the fact that Peter (Mt 19:27) and the other disciples had complied with Jesus’ call to follow him, enhanced the status of those who did what others would not.

Although Matthew refers to the disciples and others who had renounced their possessions and families , it is not clear if he claims that all the initial followers of Jesus, and the entire Matthean community, actually did permanently renounce their possessions. While Matthew presupposes a group of Jesus’ initial followers who, like Jesus, had become homeless , travelled from town to town, suffered persecution and were rejected in a number of locales, it appears as if at least some of them led a more settled life since they are instructed to be generous in almsgiving, willing to lend freely to those who ask , and to provide hospitality to others. It is also apparent that despite leaving their families and economic support in order to follow Jesus, prominent disciples of Jesus are not described as being permanently dispossessed. James and John, for example, continue to be defined in terms of their relationship to their parents. Similarly, Peter retains a house and a family, despite claiming to have left all to follow Jesus. Jesus, furthermore, addresses four standard elements of everyday household management -the relationship between husband and wife, children, wealth and slaves – which all characterise a settled community.

Conclusion

This article investigated three related questions. Firstly, it was asked if the renouncement of possessions was a requirement for all who wanted to follow the Matthean Jesus or join the Matthean community. Secondly, it asked whether this requirement lead to a distinction according to Matthew within the pre- and post-Easter followers of Jesus between those who adhered to a stricter ethic of Jesus and those who did not (i.e. between religious virtuosi and non-virtuosi). Finally, the question was asked as to what motivated some followers of Jesus and members of the Matthean community to comply with it.

In terms of the first question it appears as if the renouncement of possessions was, according to Matthew, practiced by at least some of Jesus’ pre- and post-Easter followers as a sign of their commitment to him. The willingness to renounce possessions could have functioned as a test of the commitment of new community members as it did in some Jewish groupings in order to separate those who were serious about following Jesus from those just exploring different religious options for becoming a religious virtuoso. There is, however, little evidence for a formal initiation process into the community of Jesus followers in which the process of sharing of possessions is clearly defined in Matthew. There are, however, with regard to the second question hints in Matthew that the pre- and post-Easter followers of Jesus were compromised of both settled and dispossessed groups. In other words that they both had a two tier structure from the perspective of compliance to Jesus’ command to permanently renounce their possessions. Some complied wholeheartedly by leaving possessions and family while others lived a settled family life.

The language Matthew uses as motivation for the renouncement of possessions (the final question investigated), and for the care by those who had not renounced theirs, is primarily eschatological in nature. According to the Matthean Jesus, all who had left their families and possessions would be richly rewarded by God at the eschaton. The authority of Jesus is thus far greater than that of an everyday Rabbi, since he possessed the unique authority to promise a range of eschatological blessings to those who accepted his authority and did his bidding. There is in this regard a noteworthy shift in the depiction of Jesus in Matthew 19:16-30 from being addressed as a teacher of the Torah to being described as the eschatological judge over Israel (19:28).

It should, however, be kept in mind that while Matthew often refers to the theme of the incomparable eschatological reward for virtuous conduct, it is also possible that those who had left all to follow him would not be rewarded differently than the settled disciples who had extended hospitality to the wandering Christian prophets . It thus appears as if through the grace of God, both the settled and the dispossessed could enter the kingdom of God through the eye of the needle if they supported Jesus and his followers with their possessions.

A few thoughts to my personal conclusion. Matthew 19:21 issues a profound challenge to reassess my dedication to following Christ. It urges me to contemplate my readiness to relinquish worldly possessions in pursuit of heavenly treasures, while also encouraging me to consider the diverse responses of Jesus’ disciples to his radical teachings.

As I grapple with the intricacies of living out our faith in a materialistic world, I am again and againg humbled by the grace of God, which extends to both those who maintain earthly ties and those who have renounced them. This grace allows entry into the kingdom of God, resembling the metaphorical “eye of the needle,” as I follow Jesus. It’s a call and a reminder ot the journey of discipleship take in various forms, and that my choices carry profound consequences.

I wish you a good start to this new week
Philemon

Chapter 35

Good Monday Morning to this new week 35 of 2023

Last Monday we were about to begin to prepare the room for the program of the afternoon, we engaged in a captivating dialogue involving three from diverse backgrounds: a Nigerian lady, a Syrian lady, and a Swiss gentleman. (no this is not one of these multi-cultural or multi religious jokes – A bishop, a priest, and a rabbi walked into a bakery … that another time!! )

Our conversation revolved around the intricacies of greetings and the usage of titles such as “chef,” “sir,” “brother,” and more, exploring how these practices vary among our respective cultures. As anticipated, it became apparent that each of us had interpreted or heard these titles in distinct individual ways based on our culture and background.

I have a friend from Afghanistan who works as a taxi driver. Over the years, he has consistently sent me audio messages, all of which start in a familiar pattern: “Hello, how are you? How’s your day? How’s your family?” Only after a considerable pause does his question emerge: “Could you do something for me?”

In his letters, the apostle Paul elevates the practice to an entirely different level, utilizing his greetings and farewells not just as customary expressions but as powerful tools for teaching, blessing, and worship.

Preachers often point out that a chasm of difference exists between the last words of the Buddha before he died (“Strive without ceasing”) and the last words of Jesus before he died (“It is finished”). We could say something similar about Paul’s letters and those of his contemporaries. There is a vast difference between “Farewell” and “Grace be with you.” From start to finish, hello to goodbye, we are a people of grace.

Paul (and subsequently Peter) developed a modified introduction to their contemporaries. After identifying himself and the church he was addressing, he would offer “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Paul was obsessed with grace, so it might come as little surprise that he starts all his letters with it. The addition of peace, the common Jewish greeting, expresses a desire for the congregation’s well-being and displays Paul’s conviction that we have been reconciled through Christ, both to God and to each other. The order may even be significant: It is first grace and then peace, and never the other way around. The theological change, whereby the greeting comes from God and Christ rather than Paul himself, reflects his God-centered vision of everything. So far, so Pauline.

But there is another layer to the “Grace and peace” introduction. It looks very much like a deliberate reworking of Aaron’s blessing in Numbers 6:24–26. For over a thousand years, Israel’s priests had blessed the people by asking that God would “make his face shine” upon them, “be gracious” to them, “turn his face” toward them, and give them “peace.” By starting all his letters with grace and peace from God and the Lord Jesus, Paul appears to be condensing and Christianizing the Aaronic blessing. God still wants to “bless” and “keep” his people, but now the blessing includes Gentile believers, and it comes from God the Son as well as God the Father.

In some ways, Paul’s method of closing his letters demonstrates an even more pointed change. The ancient norm was well established: Vale in Latin and errōso in Greek both mean “farewell.” Like our English equivalent, these words communicated a desire for physical health and strength in the recipient. There is nothing wrong with that, of course; the apostle James does it too (Acts 15:29). But however subtly, the language emphasizes human rather than divine agency, our choices as opposed to God’s.

Maybe the most deliberate example comes in Trinitarian form: “May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all” (2 Cor. 13:14). For Paul, even the most innocuous parts of a letter are opportunities to teach, bless, and worship.

As you journey through through this week, may the boundless grace of God accompany you. May His blessings encompass your every endeavor, from the moment you set out to the moment you return, every step you take and every decision you make under the grace of the divine. From dawn and dusk, may the unwavering presence of God’s grace embrace you, knowing that His grace is your constant companion.

Philemon

Various quotes out of an article by Andrew Wilson, CT 14.08.23, which discusses the art of composing opening and closing statements in letters.

Chapter 34

Are windy words now at an end? Job 16.3

Do you ever find yourself in a situation like this, as mentioned in Job 16:3, where windy words seem never-ending?

I’m not sure how many meetings you’ve attended lately, but I’ve been in a few myself. Sometimes, there’s great delight in lengthy speeches, sermons, and inputs filled with well-articulated arguments, long sentences, and various forms of repetition. On the other hand there are times you sit there and start to ponder Job 16:3, wondering if those windy words will finally cease.

Yet, it’s a paradox—I have an affinity for long, intricate speeches with meticulously chosen words that precisely convey meanings, accurately capturing something or a situation. At times, I feel like this: “His sesquipedalian speech left us, the audience, bewildered”…

As with this blog and some of the posts – I’m sure it’s come to your mind as well ….

A “sesquipedalian” is a term used to describe a long word or a person who uses long words. The term itself originates from the Latin word “sesquipedalis,” which means “a foot and a half long.” In essence, a sesquipedalian word is characterized by its excessive length and complexity.

So now we find ourselves pondering: when are speeches that are “a foot and a half long” beneficial, and when are they not? When do they captivate our interest, and when do we perceive them as mere windy words or overly extended narratives? Furthermore, when does the speaker seem to be squandering our time due to an affection for the chosen words, relishing the act of communication?

Am I currently engaging in sesquipedalian behavior? Am I winding on about words, terms, and long speeches? Where is this blog or this specific post headed, and what precisely am I endeavoring to convey?

Back to Job; In chapter 16 he applies sesquipedalian and poignant language to vividly depict his profound suffering. He articulates divine assaults upon him, perceiving a grievous turning away from God and enduring severe wounds. Job shares a profound sense of hopelessness, encapsulating the sensation of being ensnared within his agonizing affliction. Much later in In Job 42, Job acknowledges his limited understanding and repents for questioning God’s wisdom. He humbles himself before God’s greatness and sovereignty.

We’re making significant strides and are truly gaining momentum now! As we shift away from this sesquipedalian approach, we find immense value in consistently acknowledging our limitations. A steadfast sense of humility remains integral. The significance of having faith in God’s complete restoration cannot be overstated. Our dedication to fostering a change in attitude and embracing enhancement should endure, prevailing as a prominent theme across all texts, speeches, sermons, and inputs.

Returning to the idea of being long-winded, there is certainly a suitable time and context for it. Being meticulous in our choice of words and delivering sesquipedalian speeches also holds significance. However, it’s important to consider the time, attitude, and humility embedded within the sesquipedalian speech.

Here are two notably sesquipedalian examples collected from newspapers:

Even the sesquipedalian Mr T, I would argue, is ultimately of this school; he builds his many-splendored, polysyllabic words into towers of Babel that ultimately collapse under the weight of their own inadequacy.

Their poverty of thought can not be long disguised in flamboyant rhetoric and sesquipedalian words, and hence they fail to carry conviction to serious-minded men.
Kleiser, Grenville

Numerous reformers and renowned orators possessed the unique ability to eschew sesquipedalian tendencies. Take, for instance, Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, whose style prioritized accessibility over sesquipedalianism. Consider his thought-provoking assertion:

“Do you realize that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself?”

Thanks for enduring with me over all these years! If I once put all these texts into a book it might make a good title – Warapunga Monday Morning Blog – Philemon the reluctant sesquipedalian.

Is this the conclusion? Does this signal the end of the Monday Morning blog? I’m uncertain, yet there’s a distinct sensation (gut feeling) that I’ve poured out my thoughts for several years, leading you on extensive journeys of contemplation or more plainy said, like endless rants, perpetual outbursts, long and continuous venting with persistant approaches to certain topics. At time even from ceaseless critiques of certain matters to fervent endorsements of others, perhaps it’s a juncture for a momentary pause.

God, the creator of all, perpetually engages in creation and recreation. Whether embracing the intricacies of sesquipedalianism or harnessing the might of simplicity, He exemplifies divine artistry. Communication stands as an art, just as listening is an exquisite gift. Allow me, dear reader, to offer this encouragement anew. It is within dialogue and within attentive hearing that the synergy of these two disciplines flourishes.

This merger unfolds not only within human relationships but also within the act of engaging with the sacred text. It is found in the interplay of reading the Bible, deciphering its depths, and heeding the resonances of God’s voice.

Wishing you a great start to this new week!
Philemon