Pentecost 6 - Year B

I had coffee with an aspiring author last week as he filled me in with his latest plot. He had an ulterior motive actually; he wanted me to reflect on the mindset of pilgrimage as his latest heroine and hero were embarking on such a journey. As we talked, he became quite animated about his characters.... how he really likes his latest heroine and so doesn't want anything too bad to happen to her. "And", he said, "I am the master of her destiny. If I want her to wear red shoes and dance like the lady in red, she does. If I want her to enjoy a particular bottle of wine, she does." And so he went on, exclaiming the power of manipulative authorship, how his characters in all senses, danced to his piping.

It made my mind connect to other forms of story telling, in particular television series. Sometimes we feel very manipulated don't we, as extraordinary things happen to characters time after time. And when we know through the media that an actor is leaving the series, everyone is in grips to see how they are "killed off".

Today we hear about the killing off of John the Baptist. And it goes through our mind... well, obviously his work was done, he's done the prophetic bit so no more need of John. Or, equally, our wondering could be... why did he have to die like this? This great man, this prophet, second only to Jesus in significance of bringing the revelation of God's kingdom to us in the Gospels. Such a tawdry death, a wasted death, the whim of a woman with a grudge, an inglorious death that seems to have no rhyme or reason to it.

The recounting of John's death brings these many questions; and it raises the everlasting questions - does God control destiny? Could God have made things happen differently? Why did this hugely significant man, Christ's own cousin as well as heralder of his identity, die in this ignominious way?

This story has created some great art work throughout history, I have to share with you as well. In our limited access to such art in the recent pilgrimage, we certainly got our fair share of "John's head on the platter".

We need to stop and claim some reason here. If we feel manipulated, like a character in ‘Home and Away', then we must start again. Because our God doesn't work like that. Look at Paul's words as he begins his letter to the church in Ephasus, as he unpacks not only the God-Christ relationship, but OUR place in the meaning of life. Listen again to these extraordinary words:

With all wisdom and insight he (God) has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth."

As we hear again the story of John the Baptist's death, and wonder about the things we have wondered about, our real wondering is whether God has indeed "made known to us the mystery of his will". Why don't we feel or know this, not only as we hear today's Gospel, but for ourselves and the world, at many, many times as we ponder the big issues in this mystery of life?

Just like the artists with their glorious depictions of a bloody head on a silver platter, we can be distracted by the presenting story. I have to say here, that when I went to read a commentary on what a good Roman Catholic theologian had to say about this reading, I found that it totally misses their lectionary! In their Sunday readings, they jump from last week's Mark recounting Jesus' sending out of the disciples in healing and mission, to their return - which we pick up on next week.

There could be two ways of looking at why this happens - it's too hard to preach on, as it seems to distract away from the story Mark is telling; or it really does distract away because it is not the real story. It is a presenting story.

It seems to me that we get caught up in life with ‘presenting stories'. That is, not necessarily what the real story is, with what is happening seemingly before our eyes. And this can make us feel manipulated. The huge presenting story in front of this week has to be the Michael Jackson death and accompanying world-wide media bonanza of glitz, drama and, as my Grannie used to say, "carryings on". These "carryings on", led with enormous hype by the worldwide media, have presented a story of bizarre and twisted events, an amazingly historic emphasis on his musical influence and not much at all about his humanity. And yet, as another friend said to me at the end of the week... through it all, it seems he was really loved by those who knew him. I wonder, she said, what he was really like.

‘Presenting stories' can also be told because there is fear and/or inability to present the real story. Or, and this is a very human thing, because the real story has not been reflected through and ‘dug out'. Sometimes we don't know how we feel about something because we haven't thought it through and articulated it, said it "out loud". By that I mean, placing it in the reality of our life. For myself, this happened with the recent pilgrimage. I had no idea of the effect on those four weeks away, until I started telling the story upon my return. The presenting story could be... we had a wonderful time and the weather was superb. The real story (that I am still discovering) is one of profound influence in my life, and especially on my priesthood and spiritual leadership.

Mark presents the story of John the Baptist's death because that's how it really happened. The real story is the fear and guilt of Herod, who with many others is now joining in the wondering.... "who is this man Jesus Christ?". At this point in the telling of the story, Herod and others are beginning to realise that the ‘presenting story' of Jesus Christ is perhaps not the real story. Herod had no worries about a wandering prophet and miracle worker - these were not uncommon in their tradition and culture. But his wondering, and fear, is now exposed because he has heard that there is movement of men and women not only following Jesus, but being sent out by him to act in Jesus' name and do his work. His guilt at killing John reemerges and yet that is also a ‘presenting story'. The significance of Jesus Christ can not be explained in any ‘presenting stories'.

It is still the same today, as it has been throughout the emerging story of Christianity. The church, and indeed our own life, can present Jesus Christ in a way that distracts from the reality of who God is. We can present to the world, and the people around us, lives that are actually (in Timothy Radcliffe's perception) indistinguishable from others in this world. Father Radcliffe claims that the world is thus disenchanted with the church - because deep down there is an uneasy knowing that there must be something hugely significant about this Jesus Christ movement. I mean, it has sustained itself for over two thousand years - but what, says the world, is the real story? Timothy Radcliffe claims in his book What is the point of being a Christian? that historically the time is ripe for us to recapture the imagination of humanity in presenting the real story of Jesus Christ. He claims that this means bringing together a true balance of theology, ethics and spirituality - things that are actually part of every human being and which need stirring up and coming out.

This week in the parish we had a conversation about ministry with young people, as we do regularly. Someone who had not come before reflected on the dialogue process, asking did it usually happen like this and take that long? I will admit we seemed to meander; but what was happening was that we began with the presenting story... ‘how do we get young people involved with our liturgy? our Sunday morning service' and through back and forth conversation, and trust in each other's input, we came to the kernel, the heart of the matter. That is, it's not about making young people specially involved; it is about the attitude of the whole community moving into being indeed a whole community. And that this takes time because it is a theological as well as cultural shift. Well, one moves into the other I think. As Timothy Radcliffe wisely says, for the balance of truth and unity, we need geological patience.

God's time, in other words. But we can only get a sense of that time, that way of being, when we penetrate the presenting story with the words of the real story. That is, Jesus Christ himself. When we gather as community, either in worship or small groups, we need to rest in God's time and listen to the Holy Spirit speaking through each other. And then, it's not about time. It's about listening. As we listen to the Gospel, we need the words to rest in us and to let the story, the words themselves, ask the questions, and not let ourselves get caught up in the way the world would ask the question.

Jesus was very much affected by John's death. We are told this story in different ways by Matthew and Luke as well as Mark. We are told he withdrew to a quiet place upon hearing the news as he waited on God. We are told the crowds followed him, urging their presence upon him and his disciples. And we are told Jesus had compassion on them and went to their needs.

His life went on; he grieved, he listened to his Father about the call on his life for the real story, and he went back to the people, revealing the love and care of God. May our own lives work through our presenting story to the real story God is asking of each of us. Amen