I shall be there

‘I tell you solemnly, whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven.

‘I tell you solemnly once again, if two of you on earth agree to ask anything at all, it will be granted to you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three meet in my name, I shall be there with them.’

Matthew 18:18 - 20

Communicating with the divine was, in the ancient religions, through a variety of mediums – prophets, sacrifices, sacred spaces and even obeying laws. There were often complex rituals, which, if adhered to, would ensure a pleasing relationship with the divine.

Long before the Church established its own sets of rituals, the early Christians who listened to Jesus must have been astounded to hear him speak these words (Matthew 18:20): For wherever two or three meet in my name, I shall be there with them. No longer did they need the Temple, the Levite priests or obedience to ritualistic laws, for communicating with God was now being mediated by Jesus himself. He himself would become present whenever his disciples met in his name.

This verse is oft repeated, a Christian mantra. It is a part of our confidence knowing that the work we do as Christians – in our schools, hospitals, social agencies, and of course, church communities – begins with prayer and acknowledges the presence of God-with-us, Emmanuel, and when is all said and done, our work is done in his name. This is not to say that our human frailty cannot wreak havoc on many a good intention.

This invitation to pray together is a treasure of great wealth, and I urge you to take every opportunity to do so. Through prayer, a clarity of mind, an openness to love and a drive to serve others is revealed. There is no greater prayer than the Eucharist, but the coming together of the faithful in his name at any time, in any place is a guarantee that Jesus, the Word made flesh, is in deed dwelling among us.

From participation in the annual Passover, to reinterpreting the maintenance of the Sabbath Day by attending Mass on Sundays may well be a fair stretch, both of imagination and of historicity, but it is accounted for by a fundamental human need/desire to regularise activity. We have been able to institutionalise warrior combativeness into 'sport', have turned ball chasing and kicking into various codes of football, and ultimately have 'liturgised' major sporting fests into visual spectacles that rival and often exceed any Pontifical High Mass. There are, of course, further admonishments in the form of the first Commandment when we overinvest our attention in false gods - whether it be the (Greek) goddess Nike (seriously!) or that Gospel favourite, Mammon (nicely deified for us by the likes of the Scholastic bishop of Paris, Peter Lombard). This deepest urge to congregate, to celebrate, to encounter others who think alike and to achieve a common purpose is what draws us to religious worship or awesome spectacle.

Whether awesome spectacle satisfies our desire to engage with the God who loves us and favours us, is a moot point, but there is a great sadness in our empty churches. The sadness is that we have designed, developed and grown - over two thousand years - a liturgy that is a rich expression of who we are, that articulates God's boundless love for us - and yet we are unable to share its meaning and meaningfulness with all and sundry. Can sport ever offer salvation? A view into reaches of time past and a future that promises everlasting life?

Our ability to draw others to pray and meet in Jesus' name is our greatest and most precious mission. Let us do so with fidelity.

Peter Douglas

Racism remains a common scourge in South Africa and the United States

by Russell Pollitt SJ

Many South Africans believed that the United States is different from their own nation—that it had put its struggles with racism behind it—until Charlottesville happened, and people on the tip of the African continent realized that the United States, like South Africa, continues to battle the terrible scourge of racism, something made even more difficult when both nations struggle under questionable leadership.

Racism is still part of the fabric of South African society. Despite the fall of apartheid in 1994 and the reconciliatory tone set by the country’s first democratically elected president, Nelson Mandela, the demon is very much alive here, and high-profile incidents of racism seem to be on the rise.

As scenes of white nationalists in Charlottesville, Va., were broadcast to the world, the trial of two South Africans, in what has been dubbed the “coffin assault case,” was coming to an end. Two white farmers, Willem Oosthuizen and Theo Jackson, were accused of forcing a black man, Victor Mlotshwa, into a coffin and threatening to douse it with petrol and burn him alive. They also threatened to put a snake in the coffin with Mr. Mlotshwa when he resisted.

They said they did this to “teach him a lesson for trespassing on their farm.” Mr. Mlotshwa only reported the case to the police when a 20-second video of the assault was circulated on social media. The incident reportedly took place on Aug. 17, 2016.

This past Aug. 25, the High Court in Middleburg handed down its judgment. Judge Sheila Mphahlele found the duo guilty of intimidation, assault with the intent to do grievous bodily harm and attempted murder. The two men will be sentenced on Oct. 23.

Mr. Oosthuizen and Mr. Jackson were arrested only after outrage over the viral video rose, and they were released after posting bail of less than $100. Even more disturbing, their lawyer claimed that the two men never considered what they did to Mr. Mlotshwa as “wrong.”

South Africa was also rocked by another violent racial assault after another video went viral a few weeks ago. This time it was a video of five white men assaulting a black couple at a Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet on Aug. 3. 

The country’s minister of police, Fikile Mbalula, described the incident on Twitter as a racially motivated attack. The perpetrators were arrested and charged with attempted murder, assault with the intent to do grievous bodily harm and pointing a firearm. They have denied it was a racial incident, claiming that the black couple “had [a] bad attitude.”

A local police officer said that in the north of Pretoria, where this incident took place, there is an average of eight to 10 such reported cases every month. The area is still considered to be an enclave of conservative white Afrikaners.

Some South Africans are worried that the events in the United States like Charlottesville will embolden white nationalists here. South Africa is still in a fragile state when it comes to race relations. There is a growing tension across the country as more incidents of racially motivated attacks come to light.

The South African police, not unlike some police departments in the United States, have a reputation for brutality when it comes to dealing with black lives. South Africa only recently marked the fifth anniversary of what is now known as the Marikana Massacre, when police opened fire on striking black miners, killing 34 in a mining community in the country’s northwest platinum belt.

That bloodshed represented the single most lethal show of force by police in South Africa’s democratic era, and though the minister of police was suspended in its aftermath, no police have been held accountable for the miners’ deaths.

The Southern African Catholic Bishops’ Conference spent two days of their midyear plenary in August reflecting on racial injustice in the church and in the country. And in May 2016, the bishops issued a pastoral letter asking for a “candid conversation on racism and its manifestations in order to adequately and seriously address racism and racial divisions in our country.”

The bishops said: “We realize that this is not an easy conversation, one that many of us may prefer to avoid. Our invitation to such a dialogue may in itself evoke a range of emotions, including self-justification and self-righteous feelings; or, guilt and denial; on the other hand, feelings of anger and sadness. Dialogue, rational and respectful, is necessary so that we open ourselves to receive God’s healing.”

The S.A.C.B.C. has tasked its Justice and Peace Commission of the Conference to develop practical ways for parishes to address issues of race from within.

Political leaders in South Africa have been known to use race for gain. Embattled President Jacob Zuma has claimed racism as the motivation for a series of protest marches against him. Many South Africans, across color lines, are unhappy with his leadership and with an increasing gap between the rich and poor, but Mr. Zuma has said the marches demonstrate that “racism is real and exists in our country” and that “some of our white compatriots regard black people as being lesser human beings.”

It is true that there are still white people in South Africa who regard black people as inferior, but Mr. Zuma has done little to find a way forward. Like President Trump, he seems incapable of rising above his own ego and putting the national interest first.

In 2016, the South African bishops conference proposed that the country needs to deal with the social trauma that resulted from colonialism and the violence of apartheid. It said that South Africans need to acknowledge the link between race, power and privilege and call for an urgent redress of the economic inequalities in the country that are a direct result of racially discriminatory laws and practices. Sadly, this message has not reached parish communities or become part of the national narrative.

The United States and South Africa have much in common, including an “expanding frontier” mythology expounded in the United States by scholars like Frederick Jackson Turner and in South Africa by numerous historians of the “Great Trek,” the early 19th century migration of Dutch-speaking colonists into the interior of southern Africa. Both countries resisted British colonial rule and are marked by a history of slavery, wars against indigenous peoples and civil war.

More recently, both countries experienced unpopular wars in foreign countries—in Vietnam and Namibia (which, ironically, South African soldiers used to call “Nam”). Both countries now have heads of state who spend more time embattled in their own messy politics than serving their people.

Both nations, on a more positive note, have experienced largely nonviolent struggles for the civil rights of disenfranchised segments of their populations; at times, they drew inspiration from each other. In more recent times one might draw parallels between the struggles of women and sexual minorities for greater freedom and equality, with liberties won in law offset by a comparable social backlash.

Sadly, today it seems the United States and South Africa have a few other things in common: the ugly underbelly of a persistent racism and leadership that does not appear up to the task of confronting it.

This article was first published in America on 29 August 2017. Father Russell Pollitt SJ is one of America's Johannesburg correspondents.

Rattled into action

Do not model yourselves on the behaviour of the world around you, but let your behaviour change, modelled by your new mind. This is the only way to discover the will of God and know what is good, what it is that God wants, what is the perfect thing to do.

Romans 12:2

Not unsurprisingly in our post-modern world, belief and action are often disconnected for many. Whether it is the fundamental belief in God and the consequent way in which I live my life; being in awe of God and not finding the time to pray or worship; accepting the human rights of all, but failing to act on refugees and asylum seekers; in the dignity of work for all Australians but buying overseas manufactured goods… There are a few who keep us honest, who work with us and for us to remind us that action must be an outcome of belief.

The Gospel challenges and propels us to draw belief and action together. Matthew (16:24) writes: If anyone wants to be a disciple of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. There isn’t an either/or. It’s all or nothing. Now, what would that have sounded like to the first disciples? To the Matthaen community? And how does it resound in us today? Those first disciples must have been in a state of shock, why take up a cross, is discipleship itself so uncompromising, so demanding? And what about Matthew’s Jewish community: the very idea of taking up a Roman cross – a capital punishment – in order to follow Jesus! That would be anathema. And to us today? Would we not claim it as unreasonable? Don’t we have families, mortgages, jobs? Sure we believe, but you cannot expect too much of us.

If you have children and they play sport you would already know the dearth of volunteers. From surf club, soccer, cricket and basketball, I did my parental duty; collected coaching certificates, scored cricket, did bench duties, presided over meetings, sat on boards. Twenty years after my sons started playing soccer, I was still doing gate duty on Saturdays at the local soccer club. I, for one, certainly believe in the benefit of sport – but in order for it to happen it needs people to give of their time and energy. Action is always louder than words.

Australia is alive at this very time. But no matter what political persuasion you might be, it is both fascinating and invigorating to see people standing tall and speaking out about global warming, carbon tax, forest deals, cuts in funding for schools, same sex marriage. If we are just all talk, no one listens. If we take action, people are noticed.

Perhaps Jesus’ ultimate challenge is to keep us honest. To keep prodding us to think and re-think the way we operate in our world, to challenge the very foundations of who and what we are, and to rattle us into action. Discussing politics or human rights over a BBQ and beer, or canapés and chardonnay is fine, if you don’t expect to change the world. You get the gist of where Jesus is inviting us to go. Maybe we won’t or can’t go all the way, but it shouldn’t stop us giving it a go.

Peter Douglas

 

Europe’s alt-right takes to the high seas to intercept refugees

by David Stewart

Newly emerging far-right groups have been “crowdfunding”—raising money online—to pay for a purported defense of Europe. The aim of the new-right is to target vessels of various charities and aid agencies that are trying to rescue refugees at risk on the Mediterranean in make-shift or foundering vessels. Their action plan is to physically disrupt these humanitarian missions.

History shows no shortage of risible, if not hare-brained enterprises that flow from scatty ideologies. Ideology and pathology are often close-family; among their first cousins you can count xenophobia and bigotry. And this summer’s so far largely botched far-right activism on the Mediterranean Sea, attacking refugee rescue boats, would be laughable were it not so appalling.

Earlier in the summer, a shadowy French-based group had managed to divert a search-and-rescue ship off Sicily, using, as far as can be ascertained, a hired high-speed vessel. Since then, the group has become more prominent, calling themselves “Identitarians,” a neologism with at least some connection to a French far-right faction self-identifying as “Génération Identitaire.” According to the U.K.-based anti-Fascist activist group Hope not Hate, the group is presently relaunching their operations under the banner of “Defend Europe.”

This summer’s so far largely botched far-right activism on the Mediterranean Sea, attacking refugee rescue boats, would be laughable were it not so appalling.

The avowed aim is to “defend Europe” from refugees. Typically, the language that Identitarians use is emotive and xenophobic; milder examples include “swarms” and “invasions” of refugees amid much talk of threats to European culture and a looming catastrophe for white identity. They accuse aid agencies of collusion with the human-traffickers that are putting helpless and defenseless refugees on the water.

The Guardian reported that the French faction’s website, which has apparently been taken down or removed to the “dark web,” had claimed: “We are losing our safety, our way of life, and there is a danger we Europeans will become a minority in our own European homelands.”

This emerging movement has attracted praise on several occasions from the U.S. Breitbart news agency, and it has been likened it to “alt-right” groups in the United States. German media sources trace its rise in part to a right-wing young adult group that began to emerge in 2015. Its first public action had been to unveil a banner across Berlin’s landmark Brandenburg Gate bearing the slogan: “Sichere Grenzen, sichere Zukunft” (“Safe borders, secure future”). Several media sources describe Identitarians as “new-right hipsters.” German chancellor Angela Merkel, soon up for re-election, has attracted much hostility from her country’s new right after promoting hospitality to refugees over the last two years.

The Identitarians have succeeded in raising at least £50,000 ($66,000) toward the purchase of a vessel. One social media thread, since taken down, appeared to suggest that they were in the market for lightweight, high-powered boats. That has attracted criticism from more mainstream anti-immigration groups, concerned that their Greenpeace-mimicking fellow travelers will undermine what they believe is a cogent political case for reducing migration into Europe.

So far their maritime efforts have proved to be inept, if irritating to the aid agencies, and publicity about their antics has been largely negative. The Mongolian-flagged ship they have acquired was detained in the Suez Canal after its captain failed to produce the necessary documentation.

The U.K. columnist Katie Hopkins, known for her outspoken xenophobic and bigoted stances, did Identitarians no favors by joining them last week in Sicily. Ms. Hopkins, who has advocated the use of gunships to stop refugees, was recently fired from London’s LBC talk-radio station for a series of offensive statements. Her self-churning controversy culminated in her call for a “final solution” to be visited upon Muslims after the Manchester bombing earlier this summer. During the U.S. presidential campaign candidate Donald J. Trump spoke warmly of this woman, describing her as a “respected British journalist” on more than one occasion.

Falling into the background is the continuing tragedy of refugees trying to enter the European Union by the Mediterranean. Pope Francis has continued his advocacy for refugees, trying to keep this human disaster in the public eye. In the weeks to come, he will have no doubt more to say. But advocates for refugees increasingly find that news-fatigue is among the chief obstacles they face.

Once again in 2017, the peak summer migration season has seen many calamities and a great loss of life. The refugee tragedy has not come to an end even if reporting about it has. All too often, what little reporting there is fails to confront ideology-driven xenophobic propaganda about refugees as a menace. It is a reflection of a massive failure by European media: when innocent people die horrible deaths by drowning and now face harassment on the high seas by groups like Defend Europe, someone has to step up to confront the fake news.

This article appeared in print, under the headline "Europe’s far right attempts to harass refugees on Mediterranean," in the September 4, 2017 issue of America.

Knowing him

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi he put this question to his disciples, ‘Who do people say the Son of Man is?’ And they said, ‘Some say he is John the Baptist, some Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’ ‘But you,’ he said ‘who do you say I am?’ Then Simon Peter spoke up, ‘You are the Christ,’ he said, ‘the Son of the living God.’

Matthew 16:13 - 16

What does it take to know someone? To know them well? Do you need to know about their family, where and when they were born, racial and language background, socio-economic context, where they went to school, who they grew up with, what their interests were as a younger person, what their hopes and dreams were, what university they went to, their first jobs, what they believed in, whether they practised a particular religion, were they fundamentalists, liberals or conservatives, played sport, liked a nice bottle of wine, craft beer, were vegetarian, on the left, right or centre of the political spectrum, prefer SUVs to sedans, gender identity and sexual preference, married or in a relationship, enjoyed board games, travelled widely, have children, did volunteer work, were good company, had charm, easy to get along with, exercised regularly, kept a tidy office or home, generous to charities, respectful of the law, acknowledged their own failings, were encouraging of others, self-deprecating? Would you still know them? Would you be surprised if they did something out of the ordinary that would cause you to say: I would never have expected them to do that. When do you really know someone?

I met my wife, Toni, 37 years ago. And after 37 years I would suggest that we know each other quite well. I know lots of things about her, in fact most of the things above. But yes. There are times when I am very surprised by something she says or does. And so I learn something else about her. You see, this is because something happens to me when I am surprised. Toni is still Toni, but my knowledge about her continues to grow.

Jesus questions Peter, “Who do you say I am?” (Matthew 16:13ff). Peter knew Jesus’ mother and family, and he had already been a disciple of Jesus for the last few years. He doesn’t say, “You’re Jesus, son of Joseph and Mary of Nazareth.” He doesn’t recount aspects of Jesus’ life and character or recall where and when he attended synagogue. Nor does he mention Jesus’ childhood, his profession, what his ambitions and expectations were, whether he could sing and dance, if he was a disappointment to his friends and family. No. Peter goes to the heart of very person that Jesus was: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And how did Peter come to that conclusion?  Did he add up all that he knew of and about Jesus to come to this answer?

We do know that something propelled Peter. It was something that was happening in him – not what was happening in Jesus. Peter’s eyes and his own heart were opened, and the revelation was breaking into him. He recognised who Jesus was. He was the Christ.

This Peter knew and believed after a short three years.

I enjoy a good auto/biography, particularly those that capture that special aspect of character that 'defines' them. I've mentioned before John Selby Spong's Here I stand, Bill Clinton's My life, Barack Obama's The audacity of hope, and especially Jenny Hocking's Gough Whitlam: a moment in history. In stories such as these we see the self-revelation and growth through the eyes of experience, and we see the spark of character woven back into their childhoods and early years.

For the rest of us who leave no written biographies behind, it’s not what we do, where we come from, or even what our story is. It is our openness and willingness to see into the heart of others, to see who they really are. You and I are made in God’s image, we are unique. This is who we are. If we had the opportunity to look into the eyes of Jesus himself, would our answer be any different from that of Peter?

That opportunity, of course, is before us every day. The face of Jesus can be seen in every person we meet. ‘

Peter Douglas

Spiritual but not Religious: What are Today's 'New Pilgrims' Looking For?

by Joanna Kujawa

Some years ago, when my friend asked me why I was going on a Christmas pilgrimage to Jerusalem, I was not sure what answer I could give her.

At that stage of my life I was still struggling with the innate notion that there is a divine presence in our life, although not necessarily what I was brought up with - which, in my case, was Catholicism.

It was a few years before I got seriously interested in esoteric Hinduism (Kashmir Shaivism) and the Gnostic teachings of early Christians.

After a short pause I told her that I was not going on a traditional devotional group pilgrimage. I was going with two friends to forge some connection with the great spiritual figure of the West which, however, stopped making sense to me.

The traditional Christmas stories of "baby Jesus" were no more than memories of my own childhood and family Christmas dinners. Apart from that they felt infantile and somehow inadequate to my life dilemmas, such as the break up of a significant relationship or striving for spiritual and professional fulfilment.

To my surprise, my friend understood. "I get it," she said. "You're going there for spiritual but not religious reasons." The simplicity of this statement gave me a lot to think about. Spiritual but not religious? Like all statements that are true to us (and this is a very subjective take), this one changed my life.

Recently I was writing an academic paper on spiritual experience and came across William James's classic The Varieties of Religious Experience. In it he discusses the vital difference between the individual spiritual experience and its institutionalised form. He so eloquently calls this difference "religious experience versus institutionalised churching" or "corporate dominion." James argues that most traditional religions are often inspired by a charismatic religious figure or a religious genius who is capable of transmitting the religious experience of the divine, or even the ecstatic feeling of oneness with the divine, to his or her followers.

However, this is where the good part ends and the process of institutionalisation begins. The process of institutionalisation of the spiritual experience is both regrettable and necessary. Necessary because the teachings (or the memory of the spiritual experience in the presence of the teacher) in this way are preserved for future generations (such as the writing of gospels). Regrettable because in the processes of preservation and the institutionalisation of the essence of the original spiritual experience, it is dogmatised and regulated.

Thus, something which is essentially our link to the limitless is circumscribed and limited by the understanding of its well-meaning codifiers, their cultural backgrounds, beliefs and attitudes towards women, and similar things.

In time, those beliefs change the limited and dogmatised version of the original spiritual experience, and the message loses its appeal. I believe this is exactly what Western society is going through at the moment. Churches are empty and people are seeking an original spiritual experience, with the religions of the West and Buddhism and different forms of yoga the most popular choices. This is what some scholars call "the massive subjective turn" and the "unchurching" of the West.

Indeed, in her book Looking for Mary Magdalene, Anna Fedele reaches a similar conclusion. In her study of pilgrims who travel to the Catholic shrines in Southern France she noted that the pilgrims clearly separate themselves from their original faith. They do not go there out of traditional Catholic piety. They go there because they try to find spiritual experience and try to find meaning in alternative (often considered heretical) interpretations of the sites.

They visit the shrines because, for example, they read books by Margaret Starbird and want to re-connect with the "real" Mary Magdalene, not the one presented by the orthodoxy as a penitent prostitute. Fedele calls such people the "new pilgrims," Westerners who attempt to create a new meaning for their spirituality away from the orthodox interpretations that do not make sense to them anymore. As Linda Woodhead would say, they have made their own "subjective" turn in search of meaning.

In many ways, this is nothing new. Elaine Pagels in The Gnostic Gospels traced the process of the establishment of the early Christian church, where different powers at hand and different interpretations of Jesus's teachings were fighting for their place in the codification process during the first centuries of Christianity. To apply Michele Foucault's term, what was experienced in the founding centuries of early Christianity was a form of a "discursive shift," when old and new elements mixed in the creation of an institutionalised belief.

The same, I would argue, happens to the "new pilgrims" in the West: they attempt to create a new discursive shift that makes sense to a person in the twenty-first century. They look for an original spiritual experience which is not fossilised by the dogmatism of established religions. In other words, they are starved for meaning that organised religions fail to deliver.

Joanna Kujawa is the author of Jerusalem Diary: Searching for the Tomb and House of Jesus, and co-editor of a special issue of Tourism Management Perspectives on "Spiritual Tourism" out in January 2017. This article was published at: http://www.abc.net.au/religion/articles/2016/12/22/4596437.htm