Month: August 2020

Cost of Discipleship!

Readings:
Exodus 3: 1-15
Psalm 105: 1-6, 23-26, 45c
Romans 12: 9-218
Matthew 16: 21-28

Sentence:
‘Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good.’ Romans 12:9

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

I hope you have taken the time this morning whanau, to read the bible readings set down for today before reading my kauwhau. By doing so, scripture or the word, will enable you to reflect and be better equipped to understand what is needed in terms of discipleship.

In saying that, our gospel today from Matthew continues on from last week when Jesus took his disciples to the region of Caesarea Philippi. Where Jesus engaged them in a conversation concerning who people thought he was. After the disciples gave their responses, Jesus asked them directly: But “Who do you say I am?” In that context we heard Peter’s bold response, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Jesus immediately commends him for his insightful response and then makes the bold promise that, upon the solid rock of Peter’s strong confession of faith, Jesus would build his Church.

So the story continues today. Imagine this: Jesus, not wanting the disciples to be unprepared, tells them what will happen next ~ When I get to Jerusalem, the authorities will have me arrested and they will not rest until I am put to death. But on the third day I will be raised. Peter is shocked by these words and he can’t accept this outcome. So he pulls Jesus aside and shouts: The Saviour of the world to suffer? No way! God will not let this happen to you Lord. In that moment, Peter starts the tradition of Jesus’ followers thinking that they are smarter than Jesus. Of course, this kind of thinking is not unfamiliar: Adam and Eve thought they were smarter than God when it came to what they could or could not eat in the Garden of Eden, Joseph’s brothers thought they had a better idea and they sold their brother into slavery, David thought he had a clearer sense of who should be Bathsheba’s husband and so he arranged for the death of her husband Uriah so he could marry her. And I am sure, there are times when we all think we are smarter than God and Jesus.

Matthew tells us that Jesus’ response to Peter was fierce and angry: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Perhaps Peter touched Jesus at a point of vulnerability. Ouch! We know that Satan had tried to break Jesus down when he was weakened by hunger after forty days in the wilderness. Whatever the reason, Jesus was brutal in his response to Peter. One minute Peter was the rock on whom Christ would build his Church; the next minute he is Satan, Jesus’ sworn enemy. Instantly Peter is transformed from hero to zero. But the critical factor in today’s gospel is the reality that in this moment, Peter is convinced that he is smarter than Jesus. However, we shouldn’t be too hard on Peter for we too are always looking for a pain-free, ouch-less form of Christianity ~ a form that by-passes Jerusalem. But Jesus wants us to know that the cross and the crown of glory belong together. No glory, Jesus says, without the pain and agony. 

Jesus challenges our perceptions against God’s intentions. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me:” This is not what we want to hear; we would prefer: Come to me all who labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest… Or God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son. These are words that bring us comfort and peace. But deny yourself and take up your cross … this isn’t what we want to hear. Many preachers don’t like to talk about Jerusalem: the pain, sacrifice, self-denial, and servanthood. They want to focus on success, prosperity and blessings.

But today’s Gospel cannot be watered down. When Peter claimed to be smarter than Jesus, trying to stop the Lord from going to Jerusalem, he was strongly rebuked. We all must struggle to avoid acting like we are smarter than Jesus. Like Peter, we, too, would rather focus on our personal concerns and play down God’s intentions for our lives, justifying and explaining away:

Why it is that we don’t do more or be more active in God’s kingdom;

Why we need to hold onto 95% or 98% of what we receive from the Lord for our own purposes, instead of being more generous stewards we know we should be;

Why it’s so hard for us to come regularly to karakia and to assume tasks and ministries that will bless others, especially new comers, reflecting and sharing how much we have been blessed by God and Jesus Christ. More people want to come to church now that it’s closed rather than when it was open.

So whanau, let us resist the danger and temptation of thinking we are smarter than Jesus. We have been called to follow Jesus Christ, to be his disciples, living lives that matter … to deny ourselves for the sake of God’s kingdom. Let us not be so smart that we abandon our Lord and Saviour for a life of pleasure and self-satisfaction. I don’t think that’s very smart at all.

Lord God, you have called us, your servants, to journeys of which we can’t see the ending, by paths we are yet to walk and through challenges and dangers that are unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us. Amen.

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

Collect:
Eternal and everliving God, our beginning and our end, you give us strength in the face of suffering and death. Set our minds on divine, not worldly things. Give us courage to take up our cross and follow you. Help us to trust and live in the power of the resurrection of Jesus. Through Jesus Christ our Liberator, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

The Venerable Kaio Karipa
Chaplain
Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu
www.tewairuatapu.com.au

esus Christ our Messiah!

Readings:
Exodus 1: 8-2:10
Psalm 124
Romans 12: 1-8
Matthew 16: 13-20

Sentence:
‘Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.’ Romans 12:2

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

“But who do you say that I am?” That is the question Jesus asks us today.

And here are a couple of answers I’ve heard. He’s my personal Lord and Saviour. He’s my life, my everything. He’s my friend and brother. He’s my rock, comforter and teacher. He’s the Son of God and the Son of Man. God incarnate. The list could go on. At some point we have all probably been told who Jesus is. Maybe you heard it from priests, religious instructors, teachers, parents, friends, whanau or in bible and prayer groups. Maybe you read about him in books or from Sunday school lessons or seen his name on bumper stickers. Maybe you saw him mentioned on social media or on the internet, or heard his name in a song. Some of the answers may have been helpful to you. Some were not. Some answers were just plain silly and some even hurtful and destructive. Regardless, the question remains.

By now, most of you will know that I won’t answer that question for you. I can’t. Each of us must answer it for ourselves. It’s not a theology or Bible exam. It’s more of an examination of our own lives. I don’t think Jesus is asking us to just parrot back the answers we’ve heard or read. That’s probably why he pushes the disciples to move from what they are hearing around them – John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets – to what they are hearing within themselves. “But who do you say that I am?” This is not an easy question. And that is why I always challenge you not to settle for “Sunday Jesus” answers. You know, the easy, not to hard, feel good and sentimental anwers. Because you and I know, that life isn’t always easy, feel good, or sentimental. Life get’s tough. Some of you are experiencing that already. It’s one thing to say who Jesus is at Te Wairua Tapu on a Sunday morning. But it’s a very different thing to say who he is outside of that context. The question is never just for the brain or it’s just an idea. It always has a context. 

This is what I mean. Who do we say Jesus is as Covid-19 continues to spread, as detainees and refugees cry out in need, as people in Sydney are homeless, go to bed hungry, live with domestic violence, or have no work and can’t support their families? Who do we say Jesus is when a loved one dies or the doctor gives us news we didn’t want to hear, or our life seems to be falling apart? Who do we say Jesus is when we are faced with tough decisions that have no easy answers, when the storms of life overwhelm us, when faithfulness means risking it all and taking a stand against louder and seemingly more powerful voices? Using the context of these few examples, what does it mean to say Jesus is my personal Lord and Saviour, my rock or my brother and friend? What does it mean to say Jesus is my life or my teacher?

In other words, who we say Jesus is has everything to do with who and how we are and how we will be. In some ways our answer says as much or more about us than Jesus. It reveals how we live and what we stand up for. It guides our decisions, and determines the actions we take and the words we speak. It describes the expectations and demands we place on Jesus. It reveals the depth of our motivation for and commitment to following him. Jesus’ question isn’t so much about getting the right answer as it is about witnessing and testifying to God’s life, love, and presence in our lives and the world. It’s less about our brain and more about our heart. It’s grounded in love more than understanding. It moves us from simply knowing about Jesus to knowing him.

In some sense there is no once and for all, final and forever answer. We are always living into the question. Who Jesus was when we were children is different from who he was when we were in and 30s or who he is for us today. Hopefully, who Jesus is for us next year will be different from who he is today because 2020 has and continues to be a huge challenge for all creation. It’s not that Jesus has changed. We have. We are constantly engaging with his question and in so doing, we not only discover more about Jesus but we discover more about ourselves.

Sometimes we discover a disconnect between the “Sunday Jesus” whom we sing and talk about for 1 hour and the life we live the other 167 hours of our week. And that’s scary. Our words and actions don’t line up. I don’t say that as a judgment about anyone but to acknowledge just how hard it can be to recognise and live the truth that Jesus is “the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Don’t dispair, there have been more than once that I’ve fallen into the gap between my “Sunday Jesus” kind of answers and the circumstances of my life and the world. Sometimes my answers were too simple, too small and too easy. They were no match for the complexities of life and the pain of the world. Other times my life has not reflected what I said about who Jesus is. Sometimes I kept quiet when I should have spoken up. Other times I’ve been passive when I should’ve acted. Whenever I’ve fallen into that gap or trap, it has usually been because I was trying to stay in my comfort zone or play it safe. That almost never works.

There is nothing safe about the question Jesus poses. “But who do you say that I am?” How could there be? There is nothing safe about Jesus or the life to which He calls us. Jesus’ life and presence among us call into question everything about our lives, our world, the status quo, and business as usual. That’s why we ought not answer his question too quickly, too easily or with too much certainty. It’s not a question to be figured out as much as it’s a question to be lived out. Like Peter, can you and I answer with conviction, ‘Yes Lord,’ ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ Amen.

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

Collect:
Living God, you sent your Son Jesus to your people. Embolden your church to proclaim Jesus as Messiah, and to trust in him. Through Jesus Christ our Liberator, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

The Venerable Kaio Karipa
Chaplain
Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu
www.tewairuatapu.com.au

Discipleship Faith!

Readings:
Genesis 45: 1-15
Psalm 133
Romans 11: 1-2, 29-32
Matthew 15: 21-28

Sentence:
‘Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.’ Matthew 15:28

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

Yes, Jesus loves me….” “Yes, Jesus loves me….” “Yes, Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so.” 

Most of us oldies know that song well. For many of us it describes the Jesus of our childhood and our growing up. It’s simple and easy. And like I’ve mentioned before, it conjures up images of a sentimental faith and a sweet, cuddly Jesus. Those are images that still remain for many. That’s how we want the world to be, the way we want to live and who we want Jesus to be. The problem is that that kind of faith encourages a naive understanding about God, life and the world. And, it’s certainly not discipleship faith.

Look at what’s happening around the world and around us. Listen to all the politicians. Calculate the cost of innocent lives being tragically lost. The world is in a state of panic. Health v Economics. Freedom v Responsibility. Closer to home; balance the family budget, work full time, if you have a job, pay your mortgage or rent, raise your kids, keep your spouses and partners happy, and while you are at it, eat well and exercise. We all know what it’s like. We’ve each got our own story. We need a faith that can carry us through this life. Too often a sentimental faith becomes cynicism, which causes us to turn away and not deal with our problems, or it leaves us stuck and frozen in one spot not knowing what to do. Life is neither simple nor easy. So why should we settle for a faith that is the same?

We’ve all grown up since the days of singing “Jesus loves me” but has our faith grown up? Yes, Jesus loves us but faith is not about sentimentality and Jesus is definitely not always soft. Just ask the Canaanite women in today’s gospel. She’ll tell you all about it. She’s not one of the chosen people. She’s an outsider that the insiders don’t want in their space. Don’t she get? There’s just something about her that is not acceptable. On top of that she is a woman in a society in which woman have no real value or standing. To make matters worse she just won’t give up. 

You see, life for her is neither simple nor easy. And sentimentality won’t cut it. She needs help so she comes to Jesus. Yes, Jesus loves her but he ignores her and then calls her a dog. So what we do with that? Many have tried to explain it away. They offer excuses trying to justify Jesus’ behaviour. None are really convincing. Maybe Jesus was just tired and having a bad day. Or he was teaching his disciples something. Really? At the expense of this woman and her daughter? Others say Jesus was testing her faith; as if her life wasn’t hard enough. Maybe Jesus didn’t understand the full extent of his mission and ministry. I suspect all the excuses only highlight how small our faith is. Regardless of why Jesus did what he did we don’t like it. It makes us feel uncomfortable. That’s not the Jesus we want but that’s the Jesus we get in today’s gospel. And sometimes that’s the Jesus we get in life.

There are days when we come before God and offer in prayer all that we are and all that we have. We speak, express our feelings, make known our needs and then nothing happens. We wait. We listen. And, God is silent. It’s like talking to the wall. If you’ve ever experienced that, then you know this Canaanite woman. “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” But he didn’t answer her at all. Instead, he talked about her to the disciples. She heard every word. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” Jesus tells them. But for her, nothing. Totally ignored. No words, no gestures, no acknowledgment and no explanation. What do we do when that happens? Where do we go? Do we give up? Get angry? Leave the church? Sometimes in different pastoral situations people ask, “Why is God silent? Why am I ignored?” I wish I knew. I don’t have an answer. Even if I did I doubt it would be good enough. So I do the only thing I can do. Send them back to God. Just keep showing up. Don’t leave the church. Regardless of what God does or doesn’t do, make sure you show up. Even if it seems God doesn’t. That’s what the Canaanite woman did. This sounds very much like the women I grew up around. They never gave in and they never took no for an answer!

And yet, Jesus was silent. She could have gone home, argued, or asked, “Why?” But she didn’t. Instead, she came closer to Jesus, fell before him, and kept on worshipping him saying, “Lord, help me.” That doesn’t make sense but that’s what she does. This woman who was ignored and seemingly rejected by Jesus moves even closer and begs like a dog. She continues to show up trusting that somehow it’s enough to just be there before him. At some point he has to act. She doesn’t know when or what he will do. She only knows that she will be there when he does do something. Then he answers. “It’s not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Jesus literally called her a dog, an animal. Those are hard words and you wouldn’t get away with that today. But maybe they aren’t about Jesus or the woman. Jesus is naming the reality of the world in which they both lived. It was a hard world. The reality is that there are children and there are dogs. We see it everyday. Some have more while many don’t. Some are in and some are out. For some, life flourishes while many struggle to make it through another day. Children and dogs.

They didn’t make it that way. It was like that before either one of them were born. It was that way before they came on the scene and it’s still that way today. That doesn’t make it right and we should do all we can to change it. However, that is the world in which we must pray, live out our faith and we must learn to continually show up no matter what. That’s the world in which Jesus and this Canaanite women meet. Life is neither simple nor easy and dogs don’t eat the children’s food in this world. The woman knows this. She even agrees with Jesus. “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” She has again found a way to show up and be present even when it seems everyone has left the room and everything is against her. This time Jesus speaks and acts. “Great is your faith,” he tells her. That very hour her daughter is healed.

So what do we do with that? Some say she finally wore him down and Jesus gave in to get her to shut up and go away. That sounds more like what we would do. Some say she was rewarded for her persistence. Maybe, but you and I both know of persistence with no reward. So what’s the difference? Others suggest Jesus realised he was wrong and changed his mind. Maybe. I don’t know why Jesus acted the way he did. Maybe we don’t need to know. There’s a lot of maybe’s.

Maybe this story is not even about Jesus. But it’s about us, our faith, and our world. Life is tough. Deep and abiding faith is a real struggle. The world is broken and divided into children and dogs. In the dog days of life all we can do is continue to show up and that’s enough. God may or may not do what we want. It doesn’t really matter. To not show up is to only deepen the division between us and God. To turn away means that we won’t be there when God does show up and act. And we will miss it. We will miss the moment of connection, healing, words of forgiveness and the acts that transform. We will never know that Jesus really does love us unless we continue to be present and wait for him to speak to us. Discipleship faith demands us to stay in for the long haul. Amen.

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

Collect:
God of compassion, you love every person without exception. Turn our hearts so that we may love our neighbour. Remove from us everything we use to exclude our sisters and brothers. Guard the door of our lips so that what we say may be worthy of our calling as your people. Through Jesus Christ our Liberator, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

The Venerable Kaio Karipa
Chaplain

Jesus Christ our Faith!

Readings:
Genesis 37: 1-4, 12-28
Psalm 105:1-6, 16-22
Romans 10: 5-15
Matthew 14: 22-33

Sentence:
But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ Matthew 14:27

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

Today Whanau, I want to acknowledge all our volunteers and the fantastic work they have achieved at the church. Due to no fault of their own, we have had to ensure they have the necessary protection to allow them to do what they do without any worries. And to see this small team of skilled and unskilled members continue to show up every week, unpaid and chip away at all the work that needs to be done is nothing short of amazing. I know we have a huge support base out there whanau but when you get to see the transformation that this team has accomplished will blow you away. So we are a month or so away from completing the major jobs but we will be looking for some skilled painters in the weeks to come. So don’t be afraid to contact me and I will keep you all informed of our progress. For me, standing firm in our faith and watching faith in action has been a huge part of what has so far transpired for Te Wairua Tapu in 2020.

Which leads me to today’s gospel where we hear that the disciples “Cried out in fear”.

A strange place to begin but I remember when we were kids and used to walk past our urupa at night, someone would yell out, “Look, there’s a kehua (A ghost)”. And, we used to bolt, run as fast as we could home, scared as anything, afraid of getting caught by the ghosts. Well, I was anyway. I’ve since outgrown those childhood fears but I haven’t outgrown fear itself. I’ve been in the same boat as the disciples many times in my life. Maybe you have too.

Fear. We all have our own fears. We all have our own ghost stories to tell. Regardless of whether ghosts are real or not, fear is. You could all tell a story about fear in your life, about a ghost that haunts and frightens you. There are all sorts of fears and ghosts. We fear our own death and the deaths of our loved ones. We fear the loss of our health, security, success and our reputation. We fear failure and what others will think about us. We fear being out of control and powerless. We fear the unknown, what will happen, and what might not happen. We fear others; those who look, act, and believe differently than us. And, we fear not being good enough and getting found out.

You see, fear can be the primary force that drives and controls and our lives. I’ve experienced that in my own life and I’ve seen it in the lives of others. I’ve seen how it can take hold of us and distort our vision and drown our lives. Fear often determines the choices we make, the words we say, the actions we take and the prayers we offer. Look at the events of today’s world and you’ll see fear. Fear is one thing both sides in any conflict have in common. Listen to the voices in your head and you’ll hear fear. It’s usually the loudest and most talkative voice. Read the headlines and you’ll find stories of fear. Study the scriptures and you’ll discover that the most common thing God tells the people is to not be afraid. And yet, most of us are. We’ve rowed the same boat as the disciples. We’ve been tossed about by the storms of life and we’ve seen the ghosts and we’ve cried out in fear.

Have you ever felt as if your world is full of darkness? Where the waves of life have smashed and battered you and it seems like you’re always rowing against the wind and getting nowhere? If you know what that’s like then you know what it was like for the disciples. In those circumstances it’s easy to see ghosts, to be terrified, and to cry out in fear. That’s what happened to the disciples. It happens to us. And, it’s happening throughout our world. The world today is crying out in fear. People are crying out with tears and screams of horror. Others cry out with silence in the dangerous worlds and circumstances that they find themselves in. Some cry out not knowing what to say or do. In whatever way we do it, at some point we all cry out in fear. Like the disciples, we more often than not, cry out to be rescued from the circumstances of which we are afraid. We want to escape the storm and avoid the ghosts. We want to be picked up and set down somewhere else, somewhere that is safe, calm and comfortable. Please Lord save me!

But Jesus doesn’t do that. He didn’t do that for the disciples and he doesn’t do that for us. Instead, Jesus reveals himself, speaks, and comes to the disciples in and from the very midst of the storm itself. He didn’t take the disciples out of their storm, he entered their storm. You see, Jesus doesn’t come to us from outside our storms and fears. Yet, that’s often where we look for him, outside the circumstances of our lives. We are too easily persuaded that the solution to all our circumstances only come from outside. That is the exact opposite of what today’s gospel tells us. Jesus came to the disciples walking on the water, through the wind and in the darkness. Jesus’ peace, words of comfort and presence are not outside the storm but in the centre of the storm. So why do we not look for him in that place, in the place of our fears? That’s where Jesus shows up. Where else would he be, the one we call Emmanuel, God with us? If Jesus is not in our storms and fears then he is not God-with-us.

This is why we always need to examine scripture as sometimes we may miss what’s really happening, like in today’s gospel. If all we see is Jesus defying gravity and walking on water then we have missed the miracle. The wind and the waves are more than just weather conditions. They are more about what’s happening within the disciples than what‘s happening around them. The real miracle is that Jesus walks into the storms that brew and rage within us. That means divine power and presence have and always will overcome and conquer human fear. It means that Jesus is with us in our most scariest circumstances. But the disciples couldn’t recognise this. Sometimes we don’t either. “It’s a ghost,” they screamed in terror. It’s the only thing that made sense. People don’t walk on water. It had to be a ghost. What else could it be? That is the power of fear to deceive and distort our lives. Our storms and our fears are the very place in which we abandon God. Most of us, however, don’t do that until we first feel abandoned by God. Surely that’s how the disciples must have felt. Jesus made them get in the boat and cross the sea alone as it seems. They had been abandoned to the open sea, the darkness, the waves, the wind and left with their own efforts, fantasies and illusions. Jesus done this so that they might abandon themselves to God.

The very elements that threatened to destroy the disciples became the environment in which they recognised Jesus as the Son of God. What they first perceived as certain death they now recognise as new life, hope and salvation. Every time we cry out in fear Jesus comes to us saying, “Take heart, it is I, do not be afraid.” That’s the invitation to abandon ourselves to God in the midst of our storms and fears. No matter how big the storms are Jesus walks through them to get to us. No matter how strong the wind blows it is the wind through which Jesus walks to us. No matter how dark the night it is the night in which Jesus comes to us. No matter how great our fear is, Jesus Christ has already defeated it. “Take heart, it is I, do not be afraid.” Amen.

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

Collect:
Merciful God, hearten us, so that like Peter we may have faith even when we fail. Grant that any recognition we receive brings worship not to ourselves but to you. Through Jesus Christ our Liberator, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

The Venerable Kaio Karipa
Chaplain
Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu
www.tewairuatapu.com.au

Christ is Compassion!

Readings:
Genesis 32: 22-31
Psalm 17:1-7, 15
Romans 9: 1-5
Matthew 14: 13-21

Sentence:
When Jesus went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. Matthew 14:14

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

Well whanau, work at the church is coming along, all the rendering is completed, final touches in our new kitchen are taking place and the huge pile of rubbish is starting to get removed. But there is still more work to do. I’d like to acknowledge at this time all those that have lost loved ones since March. It hasn’t been easy for a lot of whanau grieving for someone and unable to attend tangihanga. May God grant your loved ones eternal peace and give you the strength and courage to meet the days, months and years ahead.

In saying that, I hope you have all had a good week. Not overly demanding and stressful and you were able to find time to chill out and rest. Take some me time space. You see, living life eventually teaches us that there are times when we should maintain personal boundaries and take care of ourselves; and there are other times when we should set our needs and our wants aside and offer kindness and care to those who are in need around us. This is part of the lesson from Matthews gospel reading this morning. Jesus had given so much of himself to those around him that he withdrew to a deserted place to be alone. To make that happen, he took a boat from one side of the Sea of Galilee to the other. Now, I’d have to say that was a good and wise choice. He must have been tired from all the mahi he had been doing, and he was taking care of himself. The crowds walked around the lake to find him. In other words, they literally took the long way around! And when they showed up, the scripture says that he had compassion for them. It seems to me that Jesus’ interaction with the crowds that followed him, provides us with an example of the lesson that there is a time for self-care, but there is also a time for putting our own concerns aside and simply offering ourselves as vessels of compassion for those in need, starting with the ones closest to you.

The story that follows is intriguing, because it’s the only miracle of Jesus found in all four gospels and there is also no mention of what actually happened to make the five loaves and two fish feed such a huge crowd! Some have suggested that the example of generosity inspired those in the crowd to share their food with others. But we don’t know that. Others have depicted it as an instantaneous miracle—Jesus lifts the basket of food to heaven to bless it, and when he brings it down the basket is overflowing with loaves and fishes. But we don’t know that either. We really don’t know and we may never be able to explain how Jesus multiplied the loaves and fish.

What we do know is that initially the disciples wanted to send the crowds away. I would imagine they too were tired and wanted to have some down time. After all, the whole reason why they got in the boat and went to a deserted place was to be alone. Or perhaps, in their characteristic “lack of faith,” they were afraid there wouldn’t be enough food. A pretty reasonable concern you would think! What we do know is that Jesus gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. But this brings us no closer to explaining this story. Maybe it was in the act of the disciples being willing to put their own concerns aside and to simply give the food they had to the crowds that the miracle occurred? We still don’t know that for sure, but it does seem important that the disciples who wanted to send everybody away turned around and served their food to the hungry crowds around them. And somehow the miracle happened in the giving. By setting aside their own concerns, their fears and their doubts, Jesus’ disciples became the vessels for God’s miraculous work. Perhaps one of the lessons is that true miracles happen in ways we can and never will explain.

We’ll probably never know for sure exactly what happened that day by the Sea of Galilee, but it might point us in the right direction. When we remain focused on maintaining our boundaries, when we stay in our fears that there will not be enough or perhaps we aren’t good enough, when we just want to send others away to fend for themselves, we ultimately withhold the loving kindness and compassion that we have been so generously given. On the other hand, when we let go of our fears and concerns about our own well being—at least when the situation calls for it—and open our hearts to the people we encounter with a giving spirit, we become vessels and more Christlike, filled with divine compassion that can have a truly miraculous effect.

Our compassion and our loving kindness may be small and faltering at times, but if we will just give what we have, like Jesus, perhaps in the giving it will be multiplied to meet the needs. When we give compassion freely, it ripples out far beyond our ability to explain or even imagine. When we open ourselves to be people of compassion, those streams of kindness and mercy that flow through us have an effect that only God knows. Amen.

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

Collect:
Generous God, your love is overflowing. Enable us to trust in the abundance of your love; help us to multiply the blessings you give, for you are the one that fulfils all our needs. Through Jesus Christ our Liberator, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

The Venerable Kaio Karipa
Chaplain
Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu
www.tewairuatapu.com.au

God’s Kingdom!

Readings:
Genesis 29:15-28 
Psalm 1045:1-11, 45b
Romans 8:26-39
Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

Sentence:
The Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. Romans 8: 26

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

Well whanau, it has been a somewhat challenging week. Not everything we do goes to plan and we have to change tack and adjust our sails. We are in testing times in Sydney right now. We may think everything is okay and the threat of Covid-19 only happens somewhere else until it comes close to you. Be vigilant and careful out there as hotspots are starting to breakout in a number of suburbs. We have had to slowdown work at the church until members of our extended whanau had been tested and returned negative results before resuming work again. So even when the work is completed won’t mean an immediate return to karakia. We will still need to monitor our movements, contacts and activities. But remember our plans are never God’s plan.

So be careful what you pray for – you just might get it…

That may seem like a strange thing to say today but there is truth in it. Sometimes as Christians, the prayers just roll off our tongue and we don’t really think through the implications of what we are praying for or the process that may be involved if the things we pray for come into reality. Nowhere is that more evident, than in the Lord’s Prayer which we say week in week out, if not day in day out – and we don’t really think through the implications of the words we are saying. The Lord’s Prayer is a powerful karakia with some dangerous statements in it and not least of these is the phrase, “Your Kingdom come…” What seems like a fairly pleasant plea to God is actually counter-cultural and a revolutionary request because it is a plea for the existing social order to be turned on its head and for the world to be governed and controlled by a new set of rules: for all social and political interaction to be transformed almost completely. But as the late Dr Hone Kaa once said, “We are slaves to the rhythm.”

Part of the problem is that we have been educated to see Jesus in a particular image. We want to think of him as a mild mannered, white man, strolling around the countryside, talking in happy metaphors about sheep and lights on a hill, performing amazing miracles for his adoring followers. But in reality he was a man of colour, a tradesman who walked the roads of Israel and he was a social revolutionary who was dedicated to denouncing oppressive systems and challenging the authority of the occupying Roman army. But that’s Jesus of Nazareth: the liberator speaking out against the forces of injustice, who was not afraid to say, “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword…” So be careful what you pray for…

In our Gospel reading today from Matthew, Jesus gives a number of parables, beginning each one with the phrase, “The Kingdom of heaven is like…” And we hear that phrase and we settle back in our chairs and get comfortable because we know that we are about to hear Jesus spin another good story for us. But it doesn’t work like that. When Jesus says, “The Kingdom of heaven is like…”, we should be nervous, on guard and be ready because this man dedicated his life – and his death – to taking us right outside our comfort zones and confronting us with the harsh reality of Truth.

So he begins with the parable of the mustard seed: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” We find that comforting, don’t we? Jesus,  mild mannered, telling us that big things can come from small beginnings. We link it to Jesus’ saying that we are to have faith like a mustard seed and we think that its OK to only have a little bit of faith because that will be enough. So we can all relax. We don’t need to work hard at being a Christian. We don’t need to devote ourselves too much to the spiritual disciplines because Jesus has told us that a little bit of faith is perfectly adequate. But a Gentle Jesus didn’t tell this parable.

This parable was told by Jesus, a man who was prepared to live and die to see a new world order come in to being…

His people would have heard a story about a mustard plant, which was an invasive plant, going deep into the soil. They would have picked up on the real threat in this story. Because the sower plants the seed, perhaps in desperation and out of his poverty, in the hope that it might produce something useful and very quickly. But there is also the danger that the mustard plant will grow and grow and invade the rest of the soil and take over that part of the landscape, making the soil unusable for any other form of vegetation. And, of course, that invasive property is exactly what Jesus wants to highlight because his mustard seed becomes a tree and the birds come to nest in it.

Therefore, the Kingdom of heaven is completely invasive. It might look small and it may even be sown in desperation and out of poverty – but it will grow and grow and will invade the land and eventually become a sanctuary for others to find rest in. You see, God’s Kingdom comes as a threat to those who cling to the old world order. Sound familiar. Jesus wants God’s Kingdom to invade and dominate the land and that is the message he is prepared to live and die for.

And if we have not yet got the point about the Kingdom of God being threatening, uncontainable and invasive, Jesus follows it up with another story: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” Now we know what the Gentle Jesus is talking about! The woman in her kitchen, kneeding the dough while her children are playing, the smell of freshly baking rewana bread hanging in the air and her husband or partner is sitting at the table waiting for a feed of hot bread. Another comfortable image for us – from a Gentle Jesus.

But yeast meant something else to the first hearers of this parable? Yeast was to be avoided at the most holy times of the year: Unleavened Bread was the order of the day. And elsewhere, Jesus used the symbol of yeast to describe the behaviour of the Pharisees. For those people who lived in an agricultural culture, yeast was hard to handle. It was unpredictable, it bubbled up, it collapsed and it grew again. It was hard to handle and, at certain times, it was to be avoided altogether. So Jesus again is not giving us a neat and comfortable image here: the Kingdom of heaven is unpredictable. It bubbles up from within and completely transforms the environment in which it grows.

Mustard seeds and Yeast. These are products that change its environment. They cannot be contained or controlled. They grow in secret and then, all of a sudden, the host environment becomes transformed. And the effects of the seed and the yeast will do what it wants to do: the sower and the baker cannot control them.

Therefore, the Kingdom of heaven is something we cannot control.

This is an important principle for us to grasp because there is a tendency for Christians to want church to be a beautiful place, where we sing beautiful hymns and use beautiful liturgy in the comfort of a beautiful building. Something we are working on right now. And, I am not saying that these things aren’t important but if we are to grow as a church, we will need to forsake aspects of beauty for the sake of the Kingdom of heaven. The truth is that the Kingdom of God is not always a beautiful place to be. It can be a messy place; at times, it can be an ugly place. If we think that a Gentle Jesus is telling these parables, then we might expect the Kingdom of heaven to be a beautiful and peaceful place. But a Gentle Jesus didn’t tell these parables. These parables were told by Jesus, that man who was prepared to live and die to see a new world order come in to being. So he prepares us for a kingdom that can be as messy and ugly as it is beautiful.

But its in all the mess that we create together that beauty will be found. Because, as Jesus told us in the parable in verse 45, it takes a lot of searching to find a pearl. But once its found, the search will have been worth it… “Your kingdom come…” So be careful what you pray for – because the Kingdom of heaven is like that proclaimed by Jesus, the revolutionary, not like some imaginary Gentle Jesus. It is subversive and its messy, and if we want to embrace the Kingdom, then we must embrace the revolutionary nature of the kingdom and the mess that this causes…

Jesus walked the roads of Israel. And when he saw social injustice, oppression and marginalisation, he spoke out against it. His ministry was a messy ministry. But Jesus was prepared to die for the liberation of his people because he knew that the coming of the Kingdom of heaven was the ultimate goal of liberation. That was his mission. And Jesus invites us into that mission today. It will be uncomfortable at times, it will get messy – but that’s the Kingdom of heaven. Not everything is beautiful and smells like roses. So be careful what you pray for…You just might get it… Amen.

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

Collect:
God of new joy, nothing can compare to the kingdom of heaven. Help us to pursue your reign with all of our strength, that our happiness will one day be made complete. Through Jesus Christ our Liberator, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen 

The Venerable Kaio Karipa
Chaplain
Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu
www.tewairuatapu.com.au

Listening to Jesus!

Readings:
Genesis 28:10-19a 
Psalm 139:1-12, 23-24
Romans 8:12-25 
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

Sentence:
For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. Romans 8: 14

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

Well whanau, another week has gone and so has all the challenges we have faced. Work at the church is coming along and I’m amazed at how much is getting achieved. Scaffold coming down and more is going up, walls are getting rendered, the new kitchen is almost complete and the rubbish pile is growing.  Every time you think you’ve got all the rubbish, more seems to show up! So I’m glad we can all pause and take time to recharge our wairua, hinengaro and tinana so we are better prepared for the week ahead. But always stay alert and awake whanau! 

So here’s the question for today. Where did those weeds come from in our gospel? Nothing like getting right into it. I’m sure many of you have asked that question or at least thought about it. Why? Because the questions that face us are, “How did our world end up where it is today? How did we get to this point?” We are facing life altering situations on a daily, if not, on an hourly bases. The world we knew is dying and the one we live in today is going crazy. Perhaps your life’s circumstances have left you asking yourself, “How did my life get like this?” And, we want to know “Why, if God is good and loving, has all this happened?”

You see, we often live with the assumption that if we do good, work hard, and be nice everything should work out as we want. That’s the illusion with which the slaves in today’s parable lived. “Master,” they ask the farmer, “did you not sow good seed in your field?” Of course he did. That’s why they were surprised when they found the weeds. The weeds smashed their illusion and this wasn’t supposed to happen. “Where did the weeds come from?” They wanted to know what happened and who was responsible. So do we. That’s what we want to know when we discover trouble in our fields, in our space and in our lives. We want an explanation and of course, someone we can blame, hold accountable, and even punish. We see that in all political stoushes, especially those we are involved with, on our social media posts and in our own privately held opinions. 

However, Jesus is less interested in this approach than we are. He doesn’t give it much time or attention. “An enemy has done this,” he says. That’s it. He doesn’t explain it. He doesn’t identify or name the enemy. He doesn’t give any instructions to find, drive out or punish this enemy. Behind our desire for an explanation and to find out the name of the culprit is a truth many of us neither like nor want to accept. It’s one of the challenges of today’s gospel and, like I’ve consistently told you, the gospel always challenges the way we think, see, act, and live. It’s the challenge to become more than who we think we are. It’s a challenge that arises every time we face the weeds or troubles of our life and the world.

According to Jesus, the reality is that our lives and our world are a field in which good and evil, life and death, joys and sorrows, that which we want and that which we don’t want grow and live side by side. The wheat and the weeds stand together in our world and in each of our lives. That, Jesus says, is what the kingdom of heaven is like. That’s good news for us. It means that despite the weeds in and around us the kingdom is still here. The weeds don’t overcome or make absent God’s kingdom. It may not be the fullness of the kingdom but it’s still the kingdom. So what do we do about the weeds? Nothing according to Jesus. “Let them grow together until the harvest”. But that makes no sense. The weeds are bad and the wheat is good. We gotta do something. We need to take a stand, draw a line in the sand, establish some boundaries.

“Don’t you want us to pull up the weeds,” the slaves ask their master. “No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.” The parable speaks of a particular weed that grows with the wheat. It looks like wheat but it’s a false wheat. It’s roots intertwine with the roots of the real wheat. The difference between the two is not easy to identify. So the separation between the wheat and the weeds is not as clearcut or black and white as social media, the news, our politicians or our personal opinions would often have us believe. And besides, we aren’t the ones to make that judgment. We’re not the ones called to rip out those we see as weeds. And I know we can be so driven to do so but Jesus is clear about that. Don’t do it.

“Let them grow together until the harvest,” he says. Jesus shows more interest in growth than extermination. He is willing to wait and to be patient. If we are his followers we too will need to wait and be patient amongst the weeds of our life. While we patiently wait let’s not get too excited about the end of this parable. Let’s not celebrate the end of the age and the coming of Jesus as some divine weed exterminator. I don’t think Jesus intended this parable to be taken literally, but, rather, with absolute seriousness.

So do we do nothing? Just sit and wait? No, that’s not what Jesus is saying. There is plenty to do and it will be a challenge. The words that are translated as “let them” in Jesus’ statement, “Let them grow…” can also be translated as forgive them. It’s the same words Jesus spoke from the cross in St. Luke’s account of the gospel when he says, “Father, forgive them” (Luke 23:34). Even then, even on the cross, Jesus is unwilling to pull out the weeds. There’s no place in the gospel for Christian vigilantes, by word or by action, against another or against ourselves. And I know this from personal experience but Jesus commands love. Love your enemy. Love your neighbour. Love yourself and Love God. Forgive the weeds? Love the weeds? Remember, I told you the gospel is always a challenge. So, yes, forgive them. Love them. Maybe that’s how the wheat begins to disentangle its roots from the weeds and show itself to be wheat and not weeds. Maybe love and forgiveness is what life is like in the mixed field of God’s kingdom and this world. Have a great week whanau. Amen.

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

Collect:
God of all wisdom; yeast, mustard and weeds with such as these Christ taught your ways. Grant us wisdom to teach with the common things of life that none may elude your call. Through Jesus Christ our Liberator, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen 

The Venerable Kaio Karipa
Chaplain
Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu
www.tewairuatapu.com.au