Showing solidarity
If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.
Peter never fails to give me hope – a man of passion and loyalty with a deep love of God and a desire to follow and serve his friend and teacher; moments of incredible insight enabling him to declare ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God; but there are many more moments when that passion and loyalty are overshadowed by an almost childlike naivety such that he misses the mark completely: moments when he wants to rush ahead preparing temples of stone as a memorial to what he has witnessed; moments when he is unable to recognise his own limitations and so finds himself sinking beneath the waves; moments when rather than supporting and enabling his friend to do what he must do, he sews seeds of doubt and temptation. God forbid it Lord, this must never happen to you!’ How hard it must have been to understand. Here in the midst of this group of friends stood the Messiah – acknowledged as such. And a messiah in Jewish thought and understanding isn’t killed – he is a victor and will lead his people in triumph, and crush those who oppress politically, economically and socially; so Jesus must have got it wrong and must be made aware of it. He cannot be allowed to put himself in the position which will lead to death. No friend could stand by and let that happen.
But of course, it is not Jesus, but Peter who has got it so wrong and Jesus turns on Peter ferociously - ‘Get behind me Satan’, words last heard during our Lord’s temptation in the wilderness. What must that have felt like – for both men?
It is easy, perhaps, to assume that Jesus, the Son of God, would know exactly what to do – he could easily discern the will of his Father and readily follow. But that denies the reality that Jesus was also fully human, and as such he, like all of us, had to work things out for himself, had to struggle and make painful and difficult choices. How tempting it must have been at times to take a different path to save his life; perhaps the fierceness of his response to this dear friend is an indication of just how tempting it might have been on occasions. But Jesus has chosen to follow the will of his Father and knows, therefore, that the road MUST lead to Jerusalem and to his death.
But for the moment, Jesus endeavours yet again to teach the disciples exactly what it means to truly follow him and the pattern of life he has chosen – the way of God - how costly it will be. For it will involve living a life underpinned by values that fly in the face of what the world demands and expects, a life which values and nurtures the outcast; which welcomes and is hospitable to the stranger; a life lived in solidarity with those who suffer, with the weak and the vulnerable; where power is expressed not by force, but by generosity of spirit. Jesus is not self-sufficient – rather he relies upon God and works with others, encouraging a life of giving and sharing.
St. Paul, fleshes this out with the qualities we must nurture as individuals and as communities: Love, hope, patience, perseverance, humility; extend hospitality to strangers; bless those who persecute you, rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep; live in harmony with one another, live peaceably; never avenge yourselves; and if your enemy is hungry and thirsty, give him food and water.
Yet still governments seek to exert their power and influence through oppression, war, torture and economic manipulation. There are people who speak of refugees as scrounging asylum seekers; who prefer not to see the homeless in their own towns; who prefer to blame rather than fight to provide appropriate support for the men, women and children suffering from the problems of addiction; success is measured in terms of material wealth and possessions, and the value of the individual is seen only in terms of what he or she can contribute to the economy. And on Friday I read reports from the World Health Organisation life expectancy commission entitled ‘A world of contrasts’ which noted that in the United Kingdom ‘social injustice is killing people on a grand scale’ – in one Glasgow suburb life expectancy is just 54 – a boy can expect to live 28 years less than one brought up in another suburb just 8 miles away.
Have we learned anything in the intervening 2000 years? What does it mean today to ‘take up your cross and follow me’.
In his book, ‘The Way of the Heart’, the priest Henri Nouwen acknowledges the challenge thus:
Let us not under estimate how hard it is to be compassionate. Compassion is hard because it requires the inner disposition to go with others to the place where they are weak, vulnerable, lonely & broken. But this is not our spontaneous response to suffering. What we most desire is to do away with suffering by fleeing from it or finding a quick cure for it.
As busy, active relevant people we want to earn our bread by making a real contribution. This means first and foremost doing something to show our presence makes a difference.
And so we ignore our greatest gift which is our ability to enter into solidarity with those who suffer.
Take up the cross of those who suffer as if it were your own. Self-righteous indignation has no place within this philosophy.
And so often it can be the small things that can make such a huge difference to the life of another.
Visiting patients in hospital, I am very aware of the loneliness experienced by so many people in our community. And this sense of loneliness and isolation is often exemplified when I am asked to officiate at funerals which become the responsibility of the hospital because no family can be traced – it is sad when the only people present to acknowledge the significance of this moment are the funeral director, organist and priest. While I accept there are some people who perhaps choose for a complex mixture of reasons, to isolate themselves, I suspect there are many others who become isolated, not from choice but through age, physical, mental or emotional infirmity. And I find myself wondering where is the Christian community who are called to extend hospitality to the stranger, weep with those who weep and take up the cross of those who suffer as if it were their own. But equally distressing is meeting those people who have been regular members of a worshipping community, but now are no longer able to get to the church that was for so many years such an important part of their lives and are forgotten or at least, that is their perception for no one calls, no one visits.
In many ways it is so much easier to support the hungry whom we have never met in a country that perhaps we will never visit; perhaps we don’t have to engage physically and while this giving is a vitally important part of our discipleship, it is perhaps easier because while the living conditions and circumstances of the people we may choose to support might challenges us intellectually, we can at another level remain detached – we’ve sent our donation – we’ve done our bit.
How much harder it is to knock on the door of person down the street that you don’t really know, but who has not been seen for a few days – hard because what to say, what might the reaction be, what might the cost be in time and emotion. I know it is hard because that is something of what I feel every time I visit a person for the first time in hospital – completely unknown to me – a little bit of me feels vulnerable and unsure. But perhaps that is how it is supposed to be – because those whom I am visiting are also vulnerable and probably feeling unsure as I approach their bedside. So maybe, if we are truly going to enter into some kind of solidarity, we have to share a little of that vulnerability. That is a reflection of what it means to enter into solidarity.
Which brings me back to Peter – a man of incredible strengths and weaknesses in equal measure, yet a person through whom so much was achieved in spite of everything. God worked through him as he will work through each one of us, but like Peter, we have got to get out there and follow the example of the one who calls us. Like Peter, there will be times when we will be perceptive and incisive, and there will be times when we will blunder, misread and misunderstand situations – but that should never, never be an excuse not to take up the cross and follow Him who calls us into solidarity with all who suffer, all who long to feel loved and valued – for God will achieve wonderful things through our faltering and imperfect efforts – all he asks is that we at least try, and then try again.
Canon Lesley McCormack, 31st August 2008
