01 December 2019

Herald





In due course John the Baptist appeared; he preached in the wilderness of Judaea and this was his message: ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is close at hand.’ This was the man the prophet Isaiah spoke of when he said:
A voice cries in the wilderness:
Prepare a way for the Lord,
make his paths straight.

Matthew 3:1 - 3

What a privilege it has been to have known my dad, to have been loved by him and so well prepared for life. Of course, we all had our struggles, but our father did what good fathers do. He taught us to look to the future, to make the best of our education and the opportunities that were available to us, to respect and love our family, and to dream about what is possible. He taught us about hope. He took the words of St Paul to heart:

Everything that was written long ago in the scriptures was meant to teach us something about hope from the examples scripture gives of how many people who did not give up were helped by God. (Romans 15:4)

When Paul wrote to the Romans he expressly understood that God’s action in the world, his ‘help’ is a result of the hope they possessed. It is not a passive hope, such as when we can, with some affectation say, ‘I hope everything will go well’. It is a hope that requires our active participation: I will love you, care for you, feed you and clothe you, visit you and be your companion. That is what hope is. Hope is demanding, we must know what it asks of us.

And so John Baptist’s voice in wilderness heralds the coming of the Messiah (Matthew 3:1 – 12), Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. It is our responsibility to ensure that we ourselves are ready, and we have prepared what is necessary for the arrival of the Lord. We become ready by familiarising ourselves with the message, being willing and able participants, being alert and aware, using all of our wits. And there are things that must be organised: the community, the reception, the welcome, the acknowledgement, the celebration, the anticipated mission, the difficulties and trials ahead, the promise and fulfilment. There is no naked hope, it is, like all enterprises, planned.

The story of salvation is not of a flailing humanity before an imperious God. From the moment of our first parents’ fall, a plan that brought God and man to the one table to negotiate, to plead and to bargain for redemption was hammered out. God required that active and lived out hope in order for the plan to come to fruition. As Christians it is our belief that Jesus, son of Joseph and Mary of Nazareth enfleshed that hope and thus fulfilled the plan promised by God.

The voice that comes from the wilderness calls us to account for our preparation We too are invited and called to enflesh that hope in our daily lives, and no more so than in our marriages and in our families. Be present to your family, share your hope and live life to the full.

Next Sunday is the 2nd Sunday of Advent. Prepare the way of the Lord!

Peter Douglas



Death in the modern age – and how to prepare as a Catholic


By Adelaide Mena 

Washington D.C., Nov 28, 2019 / 12:03 pm (CNA).
Death. It’s a subject seen as sad, morbid and fearful, something that people would rather not think about, and certainly not discuss.
Yet for Catholics, death is an essential part of the faith.
“For those who die in Christ's grace it is a participation in the death of the Lord, so that they can also share his Resurrection,” reads the Catechism of the Catholic Church.
The celebration of the sacraments hearken for a kind of death: death to self, death as a consequence of sin, a remembrance of Christ’s death and entrance into eternal life.
As the 20th century priest Fr. Henri Nouwen remarked, “Dying is the most general human event, something we all have to do.”
The question, he asks, is “Do we do it well?”
Hiding from death
Advances in medicine and technology have drastically increased life expectancies in the past century. In 1915, most people would not expect to live past age 55. A child born in the US in 2017 is expected to see their 85th birthday.
As a result, death has become something distant and even foreign, argues Julie Masters, a professor and chair of the Department of Gerontology at the University of Nebraska, Omaha.
“We get lulled into thinking death doesn’t hit us very often, because it waits until people are very old,” she told CNA. “We know that younger people do die, that middle aged people do die, but in this country, the majority of people who die are going to be older people.”
The average American in the 21st century simply doesn’t have the experience with death that previous generations had, she said. And this lack of experience can lend itself to fear and a tendency to ignore the uncomfortable unknown of the future.
“So we’ll put it off until we have to talk about it, and when we do talk about it, then we get in a pickle because we’re not sure what people want,” Masters said.
Hiding from death can have other consequences, as well. Cultural unease and inexperience with death can affect how we approach loved ones as they die.
“If we’re uncomfortable with death, if someone is dying, we may be unwilling to visit them because we don’t know what to say, when in reality we don’t need to say anything,” Masters said. “We may be less available to comfort them.”
Avoidance of death can also impact vulnerable members of society who are not actively dying, Masters warned.
“Our uncomfortableness with dying may be symptomatic of our desire to control dying and death,” she said. When that control or the fear of becoming a “burden” gives way to conversations about physician-assisted suicide, she continued, “we look at the most vulnerable and say ‘are they really worthy of living, think of all the resources they’re taking up?’”
“Each step in that slope, it gets easier to get rid of people who are no longer valuable or are vulnerable. Yet don’t we learn from the vulnerable?” she questioned. “They’re the ones who teach the strong what’s most valuable in life.”
But Masters also sees a desire to move towards a broader discussion of how to die well. She pointed to the spread of Death Cafes and other guided discussion groups that encourage conversations about death, dying and preparation for the end of life.
Churches can offer a similar kinds of programming, she suggested: “People want to talk about it, they just need the place to do that.”
What does it mean to have a ‘happy death’?
While a person may plan for their death, ultimately the circumstances of one’s passing will be out of their control. However, everyone can aspire to a “good” or “happy” death, said Fr. Michael Witczak, an associate professor of liturgical studies at The Catholic University of America.
He told CNA that the essential qualities of a happy death are being in a state of grace and having a good relationship with God.
The idea of a happy death, or at the very least the aspiration of it, gained popular consideration in the Ars Moriendi – a collection of 15th Century Catholic works laying out the “Art of Dying,” he noted.
The texts elaborate on the temptations – such as despair – that face the dying, questions to ask the dying, advice for families and friends, how to imitate Christ’s life, and prayers for the bedside.
Resources such as these, from ages of the Church that had a more daily experience of death, Fr. Witczak suggested, can be a good resource for beginning to live “intentionally” and to think more about death and how to die well.
Masters agreed that intentionality is key in shifting the cultural mindset on death and dying.
“What if people approached death with the same joy that they greet the birth of a new baby?” she asked.
It’s a fitting analogue, she argues. Both processes – birth and death – are the defining markers of human life, and natural processes that all the living will experience. Both processes also open the door to a similar set of unknowns: What comes next? What will it be like afterwards? How will we cope?
She added that the modern tendency to view death with suspicion and trepidation – or to ignore it altogether – reflects something about the culture.
“If we’re so afraid of death and dying, I have to wonder if we’re also afraid of life and living.”
Last wishes
Discussing death is the first step in making practical preparations for it.
Without planning, Masters said, loved ones may not know a person’s preferences for treatment, finances, or funeral preparations, which can lead to sometimes sharp divides between friends and family.
“When we get comfortable talking about death,” she noted, “we can let people know what our wishes are, so that hopefully our wishes are followed.”
Thorough planning includes setting advanced directives and establishing a power of attorney who can make medical decisions on one’s behalf if one is unable to do so.
It is also important to be aware of different care options in an individual’s geographic location. These include palliative care, which focuses on improving quality and length of life while decreasing the need for additional hospital visits. Not just limited to end-of-life situations, palliative care is available for a range of long-term illnesses, and seeks to relieve pain rather than cure an underlying condition.
Hospice care is also an option when the end of life approaches. At this point, the goal is no longer to extend the length of life, but to alleviate pain and offer comfort, while also helping mentally, emotionally, and spiritually to prepare for death.
Funeral planning and creating a will are also important steps in the preparation process. Even for the young or those without material possessions, planning for one’s death can be useful for grieving friends and family members, Masters said. She explained that the idea of creating an “ethical will” is a Jewish tradition in which a person writes a letter or spiritual autobiography, leaving behind the values and morals they found important in their life to pass on to the next generation.
The practice, which is growing in popularity, is available to anyone “to put down into words what’s given their life meaning,” and can have special meaning for those who “feel, because they don’t have a lot of wealth or a lot of possessions, that they have nothing to leave their family.”
Masters pointed to a student of hers who wrote an ethical will shortly before passing away in college and the example of her own grandparents instilling the recitation of the Rosary as people who left behind some of their most meaningful gifts to their loved ones.
“It’s a testament to what that person believed in. What a gift that is!”
Paul Malley, president of the non-profit group Aging with Dignity, stressed that planning the more specific details of end-of-life care can help respect a person’s dignity during illness or on the deathbed.
“Those who are at the end of life, whether they may be suffering with a serious illness or disability, tend to have their dignity questioned,” he told CNA.
The sick and dying are often isolated, receiving care from medical professionals, he explained. And while advanced care planning often focuses on decisions regarding feeding tubes, ventilators, and other medical treatment options, that discussion “doesn’t tell your family anything about what dignified care means to you.”
“It’s important not to just talk about caregiving in terms of medical issues,” Malley stressed. “That’s a small fraction of a day – the rest of the day plays out at the bedside.”
Aging with Dignity promotes planning for acts of comfort, spiritual issues and family relationships in order to make the time surrounding death easier and more dignified for all involved.
“These issues were never talked about when it came to end-of-life care or advanced care planning.” Among some of the requests participants make, he elaborated, are small acts of comfort like cool cloths on a forehead, pictures of loved ones in a hospital room, favorite blankets on a bed, or requests for specific family or friends to come visit.
Planning to incorporate what Malley calls “the lost art of caregiving,” was important to his own family when his grandmother died. “One of the most important things for her was that she always wanted to have her feet poking out of the blanket because her feet were hot,” he recalled.
Although nurses and care providers would often bundle her feet up to try to keep her warm, her family was able to untuck her feet afterwards so she could stay comfortable.
“That might be something that sounds very trivial, very small, but for her, for my grandmother, laying in that bed where she couldn’t get up and couldn’t reach down to pull up her own blanket, having her feet stick out at the edge of the blanket was probably the most important thing to her all day long,” Malley said.
The end of the earthly pilgrimage
For Catholics, spiritual preparation for death should always include the sacraments, Fr. Witczak said.
The Sacrament of Reconciliation, important for all the faithful throughout their lives, is a particularly important spiritual medicine for those nearing death.
Additionally, Anointing of the Sick should be sought for those who have begun to be in danger of death due to sickness or old age, and it can be repeated if the sick person recovers and again becomes gravely ill, or if their condition becomes more grave.
“The Church wants people to celebrate the sacrament as often as they need to,” Fr. Witczak said.
The Eucharist can also be received at the end of life as “viaticum,” which means “with you on the way.”
“It’s receiving the Lord who will be with you on the way to the other side,” said Fr. Thomas Petri, O.P., vice president and academic dean at the Pontifical Faculty of the Immaculate Conception at the Dominican House of Studies.
He added that the Eucharist can be received as viaticum more than once, should a person recover, and can also be given even if someone has already received the Eucharist earlier during the day.
A good death is a gift
Prayer, reception of the sacraments, and seeking forgiveness from God and one another can mark death as a time of peace, Fr. Petri said. Death can also be a time of surprise, as it “either amplifies the way a person has lived their life or it causes a complete reversal,” with some people undergoing profound conversions or surprising hardenings of the heart during their last days.
“Much of it really does rely on the will of God,” he reflected, adding that we should all pray for the grace of a holy death.
Dying a happy death is not only a blessing for the person dying, but can be a gift to others as well, Fr. Petri said, noting that family and friends can be drawn closer to one another and to God as the result of a holy death.
Masters agreed, adding that “the dying can serve as examples or role models,” by teaching others how to die without fear.
Ultimately, Fr. Witczak said, Christians “do” death differently because Christians “do” life differently.
“I think as human beings, death is a topic we’re afraid of and we’re told not to think about, and the Christian tradition keeps trying to bring it before people, not to scare people, but rather to remind people of their ultimate destiny,” he said.
“This is not simple and it’s something people ultimately have to learn for themselves, but it’s the important task of life. I think what the Church tries to do is to help people live their life fully and even live their death as an entryway into the life that is promised to us by Jesus Christ.”
Looking toward death and the vulnerability that surrounds it can be a vital way of encountering death – and overcoming the fear of it, he said.
Masters agreed, noting that those who have had encounters with death or profound suffering often “look at life differently.”
“They understand it is so fleeting. But because they know how close death is they look at life in a different way.”
For many people, this different approach to life includes an increased focus on family, friends and service, she said. “That’s how you’re remembered at the end of the day: what did you do for other people?”
Starting with even the most basic conversations about death, she added, can be beneficial for those wanting to confront mortality.
“When you can acknowledge that you’re going to die, you can begin to live your life.”


24 November 2019

Be ready




‘So stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming. You may be quite sure of this that if the householder had known at what time of the night the burglar would come, he would have stayed awake and would not have allowed anyone to break through the wall of his house. Therefore, you too must stand ready because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.’

Matthew 24:42 - 44

When we look forward to a special event, a birthday, a trip away, a party, we can always put our finger onto the calendar and count down the days. As it approaches, so does our excitement. Our sense of anticipation and expectation grow. I watch my grandchildren as they prepare to head off to a birthday. They really do want their friends to throw a great party and have few goodies to take home for after. Then there's the palpable eagerness and delight on arrival, and on the return home the pleasure of showing everyone what's in their party bag.

The first Christians expected the second coming of Jesus to be in their own lifetimes. There was an urgency in their preparation: don’t marry unless you have to; live out the Gospel right now (Romans 13:11 – 14) – for you know not the day when your master is coming (Matthew 24:42). There was undoubted disappointment that this day did not arrive. But when it became apparent that the second coming would be later rather than sooner, Christians adjusted their expectations. They began to take a longer view of when this day would occur.

So how do you await or watch out for something that you cannot put your finger on? Our ancestors figured that Halley’s comet would be seen every 76 years, winter followed autumn, even the moon and planets followed observable, predictable patterns. Over the centuries we have had soothsayers, fortune tellers, millenialists, prophets of doom and gloom haranguing us to accept the imminent end to the world as we know it. They have all been wrong.

For the Christian the tension between the present and that unknown future is where our lives are lived out. What and how we are is played out into the future. It is a flip of the hands, one side is now, the other is ‘then’. The coming of the Lord is filtered back into the present when the Gospel is lived out, when the kingdom of God takes on flesh and substance in our daily lives.

Advent (Latin) is a direct translation of parousia – the Greek word for the second coming of the Lord and the first two first two Sundays of Advent highlight this notion of the parousia, while the second two Sundays focus on the Incarnation of the Lord. Advent also marks the beginning of the Church’s liturgical year. Our Sunday readings move from Year C to Year A.

Like the preparation time that precedes Lent, Advent provides a key opportunity for self-reflection, penance and self-renewal, and upon our lips and in our hearts we should urge, ‘Come, Lord Jesus, come.’

Peter Douglas



Pope Francis: Religious fundamentalism

is a ‘plague’


 
Interreligious dialogue is an important way to counter fundamentalist groups as well as the unjust accusation that religions sow division, Pope Francis said.
Meeting with members of the Argentine Institute for Interreligious Dialogue Nov. 18, the pope said that in "today's precarious world, dialogue among religions is not a weakness. It finds its reason for being in the dialogue of God with humanity."
Recalling a scene from the 11th-century poem, "The Song of Roland," in which Christians threatened Muslims "to choose between baptism or death," the pope denounced the fundamentalist mentality which "we cannot accept nor understand and cannot function anymore."
"We must beware of fundamentalist groups; each (religion) has their own. In Argentina, there are some fundamentalist corners there," he said. "Fundamentalism is a plague and all religions have some fundamentalist first cousin," he said.
According to its website, the Institute for Interreligious Dialogue was founded in Buenos Aires in 2002 and was inspired by then-Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio as a way "to promote understanding among men and women of different religious traditions in our city and the world."
The pope welcomed the members of the institute who are in Rome to reflect on the document on "human fraternity" and improving Christian-Muslim relations, which was signed Feb. 4 by Pope Francis and Sheikh Ahmad el-Tayeb, the grand imam of al-Azhar and a leading religious authority for many Sunni Muslims.
The intention of the document, the pope explained, was a way to adopt a "culture of dialogue" while respecting each other's unique identity.
"This is key: Identity cannot be negotiated because if you negotiate your identity, there is no dialogue, there is submission. Each (religion) with its own identity are on the path" of dialogue," he said.
The "complex human reality" of brotherhood, the pope continued, can be seen in scripture when God asks Cain about the whereabouts of his brother.
That same question must be asked today and lead members of all religions to reflect on ways of becoming "channels of brotherhood instead of walls of division," he said.
To see the dangers of fundamentalism, Christians must also reflect on their own history, he said, including the Thirty Years' War, which began in 1618 as a conflict between Catholic and Protestant states, and the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre of 1572, which saw the targeted assassinations of Huguenots by Catholic mobs in France.
"A bit of history should frighten us," the pope said. "Whoever doesn't feel frightened from within should ask themselves why."
Pope Francis said he hoped that the document on "human fraternity" would be "welcomed by the international community, for the good of the human family who must pass from simple tolerance to true and peaceful coexistence."
"It is important to show that we believers are a factor of peace for human societies and in doing so, we will respond to those who unjustly accuse religions of inciting hatred and causing violence," the pope said.

by Juno Arocho Esteves. T be found in America Magazine, 25 November 2019

17 November 2019

KIng




The people stayed there before the cross watching Jesus. As for the leaders, they jeered at him. ‘He saved others,’ they said, ‘let him save himself if he is the Christ of God, the Chosen One.’ The soldiers mocked him too, and when they approached to offer him vinegar they said, ‘If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.’ Above him there was an inscription: ‘This is the King of the Jews.’

Luke 23:35ff

The Feast of Christ the King is celebrated this Sunday next around the Christian world. It is the last Sunday of the liturgical calendar. The church’s new liturgical year begins with the 1st Sunday of Advent.

The extinguishment of European monarchies throughout the early 20th century gave rise to a rash of ‘isms’ – most of which have now disappeared in their turn.  Nevertheless kingship survives in many of our neighbouring Asian and Pacific countries - Tonga, Thailand, Malaysia, Cambodia, not least of all, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea and ourselves. Many Maori of Aotearoa recognise Tuheitia Paki as the Maori King.

The Feast of Christ the King was instituted by Pope Pius XI in 1925 as his response to rampant nationalism, atheism and growing Fascism. It was Pius’ way to impress on the faithful that Jesus’ sovereignty was superior to all forms of political governance: Christ has sovereignty over all. This teaching, however, clearly distinguishes between God’s kingdom and the Church. The Church is not the kingdom of God and vice versa. The Church is a servant of the kingdom. Its role is not to draw people into the Church itself, but to herald the kingdom.

From this we must accept that genuine and loving acts of goodness, kindness, and creativity may lead to the kingdom whether or not the ‘actor’ is Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu or animist … for all humanity might say: ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ And his answer to us is: ‘Indeed I promise you, today you will be with me in paradise (cf Luke 23:42f).’

While hereditary, elected, nominated, constitutional or absolute monarchies are relatively few they are in sharp contrast to the recent American presidential elections where the promise of good governance was overwhelmed by personal battles. Only Jesus can invite us into his kingdom and the only deal worth mentioning is that we must love another.




Living out a vocation


by Fr Ron Rolheiser OMI

11 November 2019

What does it mean to have a vocation? The term gets batted around both in religious and secular circles and everyone assumes its meaning is clear. Is it? What’s a vocation?
Karl Jung defined it this way: “A vocation is an irrational factor that destines a man to emancipate himself from the herd and from its well-worn paths.”  Frederick Buechner, a famed preacher, says: “A vocation is where your deep gladness meets the world’s hunger.”
David Brooks, a renowned journalist, reflecting on vocation in his recent book, The Second Mountain, gives us these quotes from Jung and Buechner and then writes:  A vocation is not something you choose. It chooses you. When you sense it as a possibility in your life you also sense that you don’t have a choice but can only ask yourself: What’s my responsibility here? It’s not a matter of what you expect from life but rather what life expects from you.  Moreover, for Brooks, once you have a sense of your vocation it becomes unthinkable to turn away and you realize you would be morally culpable if you did.  He quotes William Wordsworth in support of this:
My heart was full; I made no vows, but vows
Were then made for me; bond unknown to me
Was given, that I should be, else sinning greatly
Brooks suggests that any number of things can help awaken your soul to its vocation: music, drama, art, friendship, being around children, being around beauty, and, paradoxically, being around injustice. To this he adds two further observations: First, that usually we only see and understand all this clearly when we’re older and looking back on life and our choices; and, second, that while the summons to a vocation is a holy thing, something mystical, the way we actually end up living it out is often messy, confusing, and screwed up and generally doesn’t feel very holy at all.
Well, I am older and am looking back on things. Does my vocational story fit these descriptions? Mostly, yes.
As a child growing up in the Roman Catholic subculture of the 1950s and early 1960s, I was part of that generation of Catholics within which every Catholic boy or girl was asked to consider, with considerable gravity, the question: “Do I have a vocation?” But back then mostly that meant: “Am I called to be a priest, a religious brother, or a religious sister?” Marriage and single life were, in fact, also considered vocations, but they took a back seat to what was considered the higher vocation, consecrated religious commitment.
So as a boy growing up in that milieu I did, with all gravity, ask myself that question: “Do I have a vocation to be a priest?” And the answer came to me, not in a flashing insight, or in some generous movement of heart, or in an attraction to a certain way of life. None of these. The answer came to me as hook in my conscience, as something that was being asked of me, as something I couldn’t morally or religiously turn away from. It came to me as an obligation, a responsibility. And initially I fought against and resisted that answer. This wasn’t what I wanted.
But it was what I felt called to. This was something that was being asked of me beyond my own dreams for my life. It was a call. So at the tender age of seventeen I made the decision to enter a religious order, the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate, and train to become a priest. I suspect that few counsellors or psychologists today would put much trust in such a decision, given my age at the time; but, looking back on it now, more than fifty years later, in hindsight, I believe this is the purest and most unselfish decision I’ve ever made in my life.
And I’ve never looked back. I’ve never seriously considered leaving that commitment, even though every kind of unsettling emotion, obsession, restlessness, depression, and self-pity have at times haunted and tormented me. I’ve never regretted the decision. I know this is what I’ve been called to do and I’m happy enough with the way it’s turned out.  It’s brought me life and helped me serve others. And given my personal idiosyncrasies, wounds, and weaknesses, I doubt I would have found as deep a path into life and community as this vocation afforded me, though that admittedly can be self-serving.
I share my personal story here only because it might be helpful in illustrating the concept of a vocation.  But religious life and priesthood are merely one vocation. There are countless others, equally as holy and important.  One’s vocation can be to be an artist, a farmer, a writer, a doctor, a parent, a wife, a teacher, a salesman, or countless other things.  The vocation chooses you and makes the vows for you – and those vows put you at that place in the world where you’re best placed to serve others and to find happiness.

Fr Ron has a blog at https://ronrolheiser.com/




05 November 2019

We remember



Jesus replied, ‘The children of this world take wives and husbands, but those who are judged worthy of a place in the other world and in the resurrection from the dead do not marry because they can no longer die, for they are the same as the angels, and being children of the resurrection they are sons of God.

Luke 24:34 - 36

My grandmother Maggie didn’t live to a great old age. She died in her 50’s. She sent three sons into the Second World War: one to the Pacific and two Europe. The two who went to Europe never returned. Of her own brothers who went to war, one also never returned. How do you heal the heart of a woman who has lost her flesh and blood on the bloodied battlefields of a foreign land, far from home? That she and millions of mothers on both sides of that war, and that our young men and women continue to die in battles not of their choice, is a tragedy of our humanity.

In the past few week we have seen the parade of bereaved Kurds as they fled the Turkish incursion and to be sent into the arms of Assad and his Russian allies. The world is no better, no safer than 75 years ago. Who will remember them? Who will put out their hands to make a difference?

Anamnesis is the remembrance of events past. In a liturgical and theological sense anamnesis means remembering, reliving and re-experiencing. When we memorialise in the Eucharist, we remember not only the past experience of that first Eucharist, but it becomes present, happening in the now, in this very moment. Anamnesis we can also use to remember the dead of war.

Yet there are many today who would question the need to remember and pray for the dead, since the living bereaved are in dire need of attention. In the perspective of the church, ‘all those who have gone before us’ are members of the Body of Christ, the Church. While they have gone to their eternal reward, they await, like all humanity the full unveiling of God’s kingdom. That being so, they – like us, will very much benefit from the prayer of the individual and the community.

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus proclaims that our God is not a God of the dead, but of the living, ‘for to him all men are in fact alive (Luke 20:38).’ In God, past, present and future flow in perfect unity. And so it is, as we recall our dead, past, present and future are made real in our shared anamnesis. Our grief is renewed, our hope for peace is firmly determined, and our desire to be reconciled with and joined together in eternity is realised in anticipation. But we must never forget, that whatever relief we can offer right here and now we must give, and give generously and unselfishlessly.

May Paul’s blessing (Thessalonians 2:16) be recalled everywhere on this solemn Remembrance Day this Monday: ‘May our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father who has given us his love and, through his grace, such inexhaustible comfort and such sure hope, comfort you and strengthen you in every good that you do or say.’

We will remember them.




The Image, Gender and Personhood


 

Andrew Bunt 21 October 2019
In earlier posts, I have argued against the common idea that the image of God was lost or damaged by sin, noting that it is hard to find a scriptural warrant for this view, and have proposed an understanding of the image as denoting a general family resemblance between God and humans and a protective mark placed over humans which designates every human life as being worthy of protection and preservation. In this post, I want to show why I think this is really important, especially in discussions on gender and personhood.

The Image and Gender

In Genesis 1:27, the creation of humans in the image of God is placed in parallel with our creation as male and female. While this doesn’t necessarily mean that our creation as male and female is part of what it means to be in the image of God, it does suggest that there is a parallel between the way in which we are in the image of God and the way in which we are male or female.
If we go with the common view (which I have argued against) that the image of God is damaged or destroyed by sin, then the implication is that the image of God is a standard to which we have to live up, thus the extent to which we are in the image of God is dependent on how we live. Given that theologians who take this view tend to argue from New Testament passages about the image being renewed or about being conformed to the image, presumably the idea is that part of salvation is the freedom and power to return to living in line with God’s creational intent which makes us more like him. Thus the image is something we have to create through our performance.
If this is correct, then the parallel structure in Genesis 1:27 would suggest that the same is true of our identity as male or female. On this reading, male and female would be standards to live up to and identities which we create through our performance. Such an understanding of sex/gender puts pressure on us to fit into a certain mould to be a real man or real woman and, one could argue, even opens up the possibility of someone changing their gender by changing the way they live it out.
However, as I have argued before, this is not how the Bible talks about the image or our gendered identities. Instead, we find that both the image of God and our identities as male or female are static statuses given to us by God which cannot be changed. We live from a position of being in the image of God and being male or female, rather than living in a certain way to attain either status. If we get the image wrong, we get sex/gender wrong.

The Image and Personhood

The primary importance of the image in Scripture is the way it is evoked as the reason why human life should be protected and preserved (Genesis 9:6James 3:9). In this way, it acts like the modern concept of personhood. Personhood is a quality ascribed to living beings which is different from just being alive or being a human and which is deemed to require the protection and preservation of life. In modern secular thinking, it is personhood which underlies the right to life.
Debates over abortion and euthanasia are thus now about personhood: if personhood is not there then the life can be ended. The key question of course becomes, ‘What are the grounds of personhood?’ As Nancy Pearcey has shown any acceptance of abortion or euthanasia is an implicit affirmation of an answer to that question. It is often claimed that agreeing to one individual’s wish to die because of their inability to care for themselves says nothing of the value of the lives of others in the same situation, but that cannot be maintained as true. If we agree that the individual can end their life, we are agreeing that their life is no longer worthy of protection and preservation, thus we are agreeing that their situation means they no longer have personhood. It follows that anyone else in the same situation also does not qualify for personhood. This is why any acceptance of voluntary euthanasia is dangerous, as it always makes a statement about personhood and that makes the step to involuntary euthanasia much easier.
If we subscribe to the view that the image is damaged or lost because of sin, we have a tricky situation. Given that the image is the biblical grounds for the protection and preservation of human life, how much of the image has to remain to make a life worth protecting? If the image is about how we act, what does someone have to do to lose the right to life? In the Bible, the image of God acts exactly as personhood acts in secular ethics. Because someone in created in the image of God they have the right to life, just as someone who has personhood is believed to have the right to life. If the image can be lost or damaged, then so can the right to life.
It is good news, then, that the image of God is actually a static status, given to us by God and unaffected by sin. Even after the Fall, and despite our rebellion against him, God declares that our lives are worthy of protection and preservation because we are made in his image. The image is a stamp of protection and, in this way, an example of common grace.

Conclusion

Getting the image of God right is really important. Holding to the view that the image is lost or damaged because of sin is not only unbiblical, but also dangerous. We should be those who boldly declare that every human who is every conceived is equally made in the image of God and continues to carry this status throughout their life. This will help people to enjoy the freedom of their God given gendered identity as they live from the status of being created male or female and will offer protection to all human lives and especially to the most vulnerable in our societies.



A new creation

  Therefore, if anyone  is  in Christ,  he is  a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have becom...