Skip to main content

Playing Games with God

Matthew 11:16-19 (NRSVA)

One of the fascinating things about this passage is that it gives us an intriguing glimpse into Jesus’ own childhood. This isn’t St Luke’s version - where a saintly and erudite Jesus sits listening intently to the scribes debating in the Temple. This is a recollection from Jesus’ own lips. Like any preacher or teacher he’s reaching into his own memory bank for illustrations.

We need to put out of mind any ideas we might have about teenagers hanging around together in the marketplace drinking cheap cider. Before the Twentieth Century there was no concept of being in between childhood and adulthood. At the time of Jesus you were either a child or a grown-up, in his case apprenticed to his father. Adolescent girls weren’t allowed to mix with boys and were soon married off, and teenagers of both sexes were probably too busy to do much socialising anyway.

So this is a childhood memory. At a loose end after doing their chores or attending scripture classes, the children hung around together in the marketplace playing weddings and funerals. But someone was always a spoilsport and wouldn’t join in. Maybe they just weren’t in the mood for fun and games. Or maybe they wanted to play mums and dads when everyone else wanted to indulge in a more tragic game. I must admit I have some sympathy with anyone who didn’t want to play the funeral game!

Jesus draws a comparison with contrasting attitudes towards spirituality and religion. Some people believe true religion must be deadly serious all of the time, others believe it can also be intriguing, exciting, inspirational, even enjoyable. Some people believe it means withdrawing from the world, setting ourselves apart, being holy and ascetic even; while others believe it means getting involved in the world, throwing ourselves into it, being wholeheartedly committed.

The lectionary links this saying to another one, about the connection between God and Jesus. Sometimes people argue that John’s Gospel invented a totally new understanding of their relationship, which would have been alien to the humble travelling rabbi in Galilee. But this saying confirms that John’s understanding of the intensity of Jesus’ relationship with his heavenly Father derives from some of the teachings of Jesus himself. John may have developed this strand of teaching, but it can be traced back directly to what Jesus actually thought and said.

More convincingly,the lectionary links the simile about religious attitudes to the saying about Jesus’ yoke. Religion often places a heavy burden of obligation and guilt on its followers. But Jesus will have none of this. His version of religion lifts burdens from our shoulders instead of imposing them. It’s like playing a happy fulfilling game, not a sad and regretful one.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I don't believe in an interventionist God

Matthew 28.1-10, 1 Corinthians 15.1-11 I like Nick Cave’s song because of its audacious first line: ‘I don’t believe in an interventionist God’. What an unlikely way to begin a love song! He once explained that he wrote the song while sitting at the back of an Anglican church where he had gone with his wife Susie, who presumably does believe in an interventionist God - at least that’s what the song says. Actually Cave has always been very interested in religion. Sometimes he calls himself a Christian, sometimes he doesn’t, depending on how the mood takes him. He once said, ‘I believe in God in spite of religion, not because of it.’ But his lyrics often include religious themes and he has also said that any true love song is a song for God. So maybe it’s no coincidence that he began this song in such an unlikely way, although he says the inspiration came to him during the sermon. The vicar was droning on about something when the first line of the song just popped into his
14 comments
Read more

Giotto’s Nativity and Adoration of the Shepherds

John 1.10-18 In the week before Christmas the BBC broadcast a modern version of The Nativity which attempted to retell the story with as much psychological realism as possible. So, for instance, viewers saw how Mary, and Joseph especially, struggled with their feelings. But telling the story of Jesus with psychological realism is not a new idea. It has a long tradition going back seven hundred years to the time of the Italian artist Giotto di Bondone. This nativity scene was painted in a church in Padua in about 1305. Much imitated it is one of the first attempts at psychological realism in Christian art. And what a wonderful first attempt it is - a work of genius, in fact! Whereas previously Mary and the Baby Jesus had been depicted facing outwards, or looking at their visitors, with beatific expressions fixed on their faces, Giotto dares to show them staring intently into one another’s eyes, bonding like any mother and newborn baby. Joseph, in contrast, is not looking on with quiet a
1 comment
Read more

Meeting Jesus on Zoom

‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’ (John 20.19-31 ( https://www.biblegateway.com NRSVA) This is my second reflection about today’s Gospel reading but I wanted to write something about meeting Jesus on Zoom. Zoom’s been very useful during the lockdown, but it’s also got a bad press. Various mischief makers have gatecrashed meetings on Zoom, either to eavesdrop or make inappropriate comments. That’s why worshippers needed permission to join our on-line service this week. If they managed to press all the right buttons, and entered all the right codes, they should've found themselves looking at a screen not unlike the cartoon picture below of the eleven apostles trying to meet on Zoom with the risen Jesus. Anyone who couldn't see the service on the screen would've been in good company. In the cartoon Jesus has done something wrong. Either he hasn’t enabled Zoom to t
Post a Comment
Read more