Scripture Reflections Seeking Understanding

A number of years ago I had the opportunity to chair an ecumenical panel at a conference exploring the unity and diversity of the Christian faith in Australia; the commonly held truths that bring us together and the differences in teaching and practice that still hold us apart. Among the panelists was the then President of the Uniting Church in Australia.  During the discussion she made the point that, although the church was formed in 1977 when the Methodist, Congregationalist and Presbyterian churches discerned their basis of union, the church is still known as Uniting, not United. The church, she explained, is still in the process of becoming.  In the liturgy this Sunday, John the Baptist is once again presented as the herald of Christ's coming into the world, as he leaps for joy in Elizabeth's womb. And it is the active verb coming, and its echo of Uniting, that leaps out to me.  In the first reading the prophet uses the even more ancient name for Bethlehem - Ephratha...

In this Sunday's Gospel we are presented with evidence that John the Baptist is beginning to gain traction with his message that God is nearer than people realise. 'A feeling of expectancy had grown among the people' and they began to ask John, 'What must we do?'   At first John's answer sounds so much like Jesus as he  tells the or dinary people to share their blessings with those in need, and those with power not to take advantage of the vulnerable - 'Be content with your pay.' And I guess it makes sense that Jesus and John sound alike in their worldview - cousins whose families came together each year for the Passover festival as Luke's Gospel tells us.  But to be honest, as I reflected on these words, they fell a little flat for me.  Be content?!! Where is the aspiration to raise up God's Kingdom? The ambition for the higher gifts that Paul encourages in his letter to the Corinthians?  Even the extract we get from Paul's letter this wee...

Back in 2014 I had the privilege of making a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. One of the experiences that I remember well is walking the desert trail from the monastery of St George into Jericho. In particular I remember the rocky, narrow path that wound its way along the edge of a cliff that dropped sharply away to the ravine below. That and a donkey named Couscous.  Couscous, we were told, walked the path often. As long as we followed him, we would be safe.  As you would expect, a group of pilgrims on a narrow path stretched back some distance, but I stayed near to the front, watching Couscous carefully. Occasionally he placed his front foot on a patch of gravel that would shift. And he would change direction, finding a surer footing. And sure enough, we all followed him closely.  This Sunday we hear the story of John the Baptist going throughout the countryside, proclaiming repentance. As he cries out in the words of the prophet to make a straight path, levelling the...