Talent

 Jesus spoke this parable to his disciples: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a man on his way abroad who summoned his servants and entrusted his property to them. To one he gave five talents, to another two, to a third one; each in proportion to his ability. Then he set out.

Matthew 25:14f

Last Friday my morning began with an unexpected and surprising conversation about Matthew's parable of the talents. A colleague had read the parable in our weekly staff communication (actually called 'Communiqué) and was telling me he had difficulty in reconciling the outcome for the slave who had buried his single talent because he feared his master's harshness.

My younger sister Vianney (after the curé d'Ars), having served a period of time as a deacon in the Anglican Church in NZ has been called to ordination to the priesthood on 6 December. Vianney, a former principal, works full time for the NZ Ministry of Education in a senior school support role. Vianney is married to Pierre and has five grandchildren. Her journey to priesthood has taken many years, from Sunday school teacher, acolyte then diaconate. She is down to earth, plain speaking and faith-filled.

The slave's master opines, 'Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest' (Matthew 25:27). Usury was forbidden between Jews, proscribed in Exodus, Leviticus, Deuteronomy and by the prophets Ezekiel and Nehemiah, so the slave's fear of his master was - or could be - compounded by his acting contrary to the Law. Yet on the other hand, most slaves in Jesus' time were not Jews. It would be difficult to ascertain their Jewishness since in the halakhah this proscription did not apply to dealings with non-Jews.

A single talent is estimated to be the equivalent of a labourer's wages for 15 years - a not insignificant sum then or now. So the context suggests that the amount provided to each slave was enormous. The task set by their master was both extraordinary and challenging. The potential consequences are dire - given that their master reaped where he had not sowed, and gathered where he had not scattered. I wonder how many of us would put that sum aside to avoid potentially losing or diminishing that substantial investment. It would seem that the Master was actually not that keen on the return for his money - but was in fact more keen to see how his slaves went about managing the money they had been given - in other words, how they traded.

Of course we understand that this parable speaks to us at many levels. Some suggest that the man who is summoned abroad is Jesus' ascension, while his slaves are the disciples. Those who have been given the gift of faith are invited, provoked even, to invest in building up God's kingdom, to evangelise - take the Gospel to all. Those who do so will enter eternal life with Christ.

The parable also points at the religious leadership of the time, particularly the scribes - they have been given God's Word, his Law and had selfishly kept it for themselves, they had hidden it away and their custodianship had failed to raise new Israel.

We can easily be distracted by the terrible lot of the third slave. What our focus must be is the gift of our faith. We must not bury it - but do all in our power to be good news for others, to draw others to Christ through our action and deeds. There will be those like the first and second slaves who will - with enthusiasm, energy and dedication - be wonderful makers of disciples for the Lord. We may not achieve great things with the faith we have been given but we must not do nothing at all. 

I wish I could be with my sister on her ordination day, but I can rejoice knowing that she has taken her talent and invested wisely.

 

Peter Douglas

 

Doing works of mercy

 

NZ SISTER OF MERCY KATHLEEN RUSHTON discusses mercy in Matthew 25:31-46.

Matthew 25:31-46 reminds of when in 2011 I stood gazing at the six relief panels on the façade of the 17th century Seven Works of Mercy House in Ghent, Belgium. The seventh work is missing — this is because it is to be lived out in that home. Now I ponder how we are living the works of mercy in Earth during this time of pandemic.

We can think of specific initiatives: hospitals for the sick, soup kitchens for the hungry, shelters for the homeless. But as Pope Francis says if we “look at the works of mercy as a whole, we see that the object of mercy is human life itself and everything it embraces.”

Into the Chaos of Another

Moral theologian James Keenan writes of mercy as “the willingness to enter into the chaos of another.” This means entering into the entire “problem” or “chaos” of a particular situation —my own chaos, the chaos of our world, the chaos of evolutionary processes.

Matthew 25:31–46 gives the only description of the Last Judgement in the New Testament. The sole criterion is good works. In the biblical cultural context, “good works” and “evil works” had precise meanings. Good works were actions of mercy on behalf of those in need of them and works of peacemaking that eliminated discord. We see this meaning also in the Old Testament such as in Isaiah 58:6–7 and Micah 6:8 and elsewhere in the New Testament such as Mt 5:38–48; 1 Timothy 5:10, 25; 6:18.

Earliest Christianity spread during a time of social chaos and chronic misery in the densely populated cities of the Roman Empire. Short life expectancy meant there was a constant stream of newcomers to the cities — strangers who were well treated by Christians there. Christians gathered in the homes of wealthy members and witnessed to the belief that they could not love God unless they loved one another. This was revolutionary behaviour because for the Romans mercy implied “unearned help or relief” needs of the majority poor. What is new is that the community identifies the poor with Jesus the Christ.

When we reflect on the basic needs of the poor today we can see the ongoing need for mercy.

Feed the Hungry

We know that in our world we produce enough food to feed everyone — but millions are hungry and have neither growing land nor money for food. Climate change is affecting food security. And the nutritional status of the most vulnerable population groups is likely to deteriorate further due to the ongoing health and socio-economic impacts of COVID-19. We can help relieve this by learning about the issues surrounding hunger — globally and locally. And we can directly assist — and show mercy — by, for example, checking that the shelves at our local Vincent de Paul or mission food bank are adequately stocked.

Give Drink to the Thirsty

Access to clean water is a human right — yet many do not have safe drinking water. Rather than seeing water as belonging in common to all, there are global moves to privatise and commodify water. Water is interconnected in the ecosystem and the pollutants we pour on the ground end up in our water as do the pollutants we spew into the sky. These are “invisible ways” we participate in the pollution of this primary necessity in Earth.

We can show our appreciation of water by not wasting it. We can be
in solidarity with our brothers and sisters requesting their human right to clean water. And we can also find out about water management in our area.

Welcome the Stranger

The United Nations Refugee Agency tells us that there are at least 79.5 million people around the world who have been forced to flee their homes. These people are stateless and lack access to basic needs such as adequate housing, education, healthcare, employment and freedom of movement. The problem has grown so large that some refugee families are waiting generations before they are invited to another country.

We can reflect on how we could respond to Jesus’s statement: “I was a stranger and you entertained me [that is, received me as a guest].” Maybe it’s by supporting local shelters for the homeless or those escaping domestic violence.

Clothe the Naked

Millions of poor families have inadequate clothing for their situations. In contrast, the fashion industry supplies our shops with cheap, throwaway garments, most
of them manufactured in poorer countries, in poor working conditions and where the workers have poor wages. There can be slavery in some areas of the production chains of these goods. As well as becoming informed about the ethical origins of clothing, we can limit our buying and recycle, repurpose and repair more. We might also consider volunteering at a Vincent de Paul, Salvation Army or Hospice shop.

Visit the Sick

We know how human behaviours have affected the well-being of Earth’s ecosystems and Earth’s capacity
to support life. As well as living
more carefully by learning from this destruction we may be able to join community groups in such activities as clean-ups, planting and replanting, protecting species and waterways.

And we can be more present to one another. In this COVID world, we may not be able to visit and touch the sick as we once could, but we can give signs of acknowledgement and empathy.

We can become more informed and understanding of those with physical and mental illness and ensure they do not fall out of the mainstream of life. We can learn to listen, converse and pray with people who are sick or lonely.

Visit the Prisoners

“I was in prison and you came to me” (literal translation). Prison reformers claim that the number of those in
our prisons is too high and in many cases the time spent in prison does not prepare the person to move back into the community meaningfully.
We could be interested in learning more about the areas of reform in our prisons, the gains made and what still needs to be done. And we might be able to support the ventures that help those who have come out of prison to integrate into the community again — to find work, housing and to reconnect with their families. We could learn about and advocate for prisoner access to personal development programmes,
eg, education and restorative justice programmes. Faith can help transform our lives and for some prisoners the ministry of prison chaplains helps deepen their faith and confidence.
How can we support this ministry? And we might reflect on whether a person recently released from prison would feel welcome and at home in our parish.

Some people risk imprisonment by standing up for justice against governments or corporations. We can think of Te Whiti o Rongomai and Tohu Kākahi at Parihaka during colonisation, Aung San Suu Kyi
in home detention, Greenpeace protestors in the Pacific and many more. We might feel drawn to finding out more about the power of advocacy campaigns.

One or other of these suggestions may inspire us to live the works of mercy more intentionally. As Mother Teresa said we can practise them in our neighbourhoods: “Stay where you are. Find your own Calcutta. ... there where you are.”

 

Kathleen Rushton RSM is author of The Cry of the Earth and the Cry of the Poor: Hearing Justice in John's Gospel (SCM Press 2020).

 

 

 

Face to face

 

We want you to be quite certain, brothers, about those who have died, to make sure that you do not grieve about them, like other people who gave no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and that it will be the same for those who have died in Jesus: God will bring them with him.

1 Thessalonians 4:13 - 14

Every so often I look through my boxes of old letters, postcards,  invitations, newsletters, wedding and - funeral services. And there they are: old friends, former colleagues, parishioners, pastors, students, Toni's grandparents, her uncles and aunts, her mum, my brothers. As I finger the booklets, each person becomes fresh again in my mind, and I anticipate when we will again meet face to face.

It doesn't take long in life before being confronted with the loss of people you may know. On the other hand it may take some time before you lose someone close to you -  a grandparent, a parent or a sibling. Those of us of a certain age have lists. When we are confronted with such a loss, the emotion we describe is being bereft, grief, despair, broken-hearted. And probably true to Jesus' enjoinment, our grief maybe more for those who have been left behind rather than those who have died. In writing to Timothy (1 Timothy 5:8), Paul confirms that we must do our duty for our loved ones. 

Often cross referenced with 1 Thessalonians 4:13 -14 is 1 Corinthians 15:14 where Paul writes, 'If Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and you faith has been in vain.' It really does boil down to: No resurrection, then no point in having faith. This may well be a real dig at those who who have allowed their faith to be so liberally understood as to make the eternal life Jesus offers a mere mingling of our stardust with the universe. Or maybe it's a put down to those who think that physical death is the termination, the extinguishment of the person I am. Perhaps it pokes at those who think we are deluded.

Paul takes care to differentiate the believer from the unbeliever. To the unbeliever, death is the end. There is no eternal life. There is no hope that what must be put right will be put right. The believer on the other hand has hope. Possesses hope. Is immersed in hope. Indeed glories in hope. The believer knows that when Christ is ultimately revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is (cf 1 John 3:2).

This isn't to suggest, of course, that despite having no faith, that there is no place for the unbeliever. That would make eternal life somewhat lonely. The difference it makes is that the believer lives with hope. Faith transforms the present, from grief to anticipation, mourning to expectation, loss to fulfilment. 

Undoubtedly we all have our place in our homes or hearts for the memorial booklets. We are prodded into remembering how and when these people entered our lives and the great love, companionship, modelling and collegiality, professionalism, passion and creativity they brought into their relationship with us. But we are far - so much - more than stardust, with faith, with the utter conviction that God will take us with him - we will see our Lord face to face. Keep them safe.

Peter Douglas

Theological roots of fanaticism

Tom Heneghan

It's happened again: a Muslim extremist, angered by the Charlie Hebdo caricatures of the Prophet Muhammad, has beheaded a French teacher who showed them in class. Samuel Paty was murdered as he left his school in a suburb of Paris.

And it’s happened again: the French state has launched a crackdown on Muslim extremists, rounding up contacts of the killer and vowing to shut down radical groups. It has also reached out to the law-abiding majority of French Muslims with proposals to create an “enlightened Islam”.

So what will happen next? French leaders have tried and failed to reshape Islam along more Gallic lines for the past three decades. Muslim extremists have taken over 250 lives here in the past five years, and there is no end in sight to the bloody series of killings. Criminals must be prosecuted; the French justice system is doing that. But so far the strategies designed to prevent further attacks have failed to address the roots of the phenomenon.

The French political class looks like a victim of its own success. In 1905, secularists won a long struggle against the then-powerful Catholic Church, separating it from the state. The resulting system, known as laïcité, has since become a template for defending liberté,  égalité, fraternité by keeping religion out of the public sphere. Laïcité basically worked. Its legalisms could be awkward, at times infuriating, but they set down guidelines most of the French – whether secularists or people of faith – are ready to follow.

But laïcité was developed before post-war immigration resulted in a Muslim minority in France of about five million, the largest in Europe, which has brought very different political, economic and religious tensions to those that had divided France 115 years ago. Muslims have not become invisible in public life. Rich or poor, secular or pious, Muslims stand out as different, and are perceived as such. There is discrimination, a sidelined underclass has grown and issues such as women’s headscarves and dietary laws have become political footballs. And ironically, it is often the Right, rather than the anticlericalist French Left, who use the rhetoric of laïcité to denounce public expressions of Islam, from the wearing of burkas to the building of mosques.

Effectively tackling prejudice and income inequality is hard. It requires programmes lasting longer than just one legislative cycle, and laïcité rules out treating any religious group differently. Meanwhile, the 2015 attack on Charlie Hebdo that killed 12 staffers is being relived as a court in Paris tries 11 sus-

Rallies against terrorism and in support of Samuel Paty were held across France pected accomplices of the Islamist killers. And last month a Pakistani immigrant gashed two people with a cleaver outside the satirical weekly’s former office in supposed revenge for its caricatures. So President Emmanuel Macron, who faces a re-election challenge from far-right leader Marine Le Pen in 2022, had a narrow path to walk in reacting to the latest terror attack.

Calls for an iron hand have come from the far-right and aggression against mosques and Muslims has increased. Last week two women in headscarves were stabbed and called “dirty Arabs” as they walked near the Eiffel Tower. Macron, who chose to be baptised as a Catholic at 12 but now considers himself to be an agnostic, has a deeper understanding of spirituality than most politicians. But his strategy for dealing with Muslim extremism sounds like an updated version of efforts that fell short in the past.

Understandably, his initial reaction focused on security. “Fear will change sides,” he insisted at an emergency meeting at the Élysée Palace. “Islamists must not be able to sleep peacefully in this country.” He has doubled down on the defence of French values, praising Samuel Paty as “the face of the Republic” in a moving eulogy at the Sorbonne in central Paris. Two weeks before Paty’s murder, Macron had outlined a broader strategy for dealing with extremist Islam that he has been working on since coming to office. His diagnosis is that the problem is “Islamist separatism”. According to a plan due to be presented as a draft law to the National Assembly in December, he wants to help create an “enlightened Islam” in France. An Institute of Islamology will be created to foster better knowledge of Islam and the Arabic language; imams will have to be trained in France; and home schooling will be severely restricted to avoid children being “indoctrinated”. Macron admits France has allowed Muslim ghettos to emerge and ignored warning signs as Islamist movements – he mentions Wahhabis, Salafis and the Muslim Brotherhood – had “progressively degenerated” into radicalism. But Macron’s plan does not include concrete measures to counter the prejudice and poverty that leave many Muslims marginalised.

Adrien Candiard, a 39-year-old French Dominican who lives in Cairo, where he is a researcher at the Dominican Institute for Oriental Studies, argues that France cannot understand radical Islamism without including religion among its sociological and psychological causes. In Du Fanatisme: Quand la religion est malade (“On Fanaticism: When Religion is Ill”), Fr Candiard turns a central tenet of laïcité on its head. “Fanaticism is not the consequence of an excessive presence of God,” he writes, “but the mark of his absence.”

Secular explanations are not sufficient to explain the emergence of Islamist violence. In Candiard’s view, Muslim extremists replace God with idolised versions of his laws that they insist on enforcing. Accusing a Muslim of shirk (idolatry) is so serious in Islam that radicals believe it merits death. Candiard does not advocate that outcome, but he uses an Islamic analysis to show this radicalism is partly a theological problem. This goes beyond the state’s strictly secular analysis and the routine mainstream Muslim refrain that extremists “are not real Muslims”.

“Our collective ignorance of the nuts and bolts of theology leaves us absolutely disarmed when confronted with simplistic or seductive religious discourse,” Candiard writes. One can only “protect youths from the recruiting sergeants of jihadism” by giving them serious Islamic arguments to protect them from being “fooled by the first huckster who uses promises of eternal life to attract them”.

France needs something more than déjà vu. Macron’s response to the problem of Islamist violence should go beyond ever-tighter crackdowns and misguided efforts to reform a religion. The solution is not to focus on creating an elusive “French Islam” but to address the poverty and discrimination that create the conditions that foster radicalisation and to take seriously the theological nature of the religious fanaticism the extremists embrace.

This article first appeared in The Tablet on 30 October 2020