Categories: uncategorized
Date: 09 February 2006 20:55:54
'If anyone is ashamed of me and my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels. ' (Luke 9:26)
I had one of my rare flashes of insight today. Totally spontaneous and un-premeditated. Is there any other kind? Well, it's plain to see you've obviously not had to suffer me holding forth at homegroup or you'd not ask.
There we were in Luke 9 - Jesus sending out the twelve disciples; feeding of the five thousand; Peter's confession of Christ (Who do you say that I am?). So we reach Jesus' response: taking up your cross daily - challenging enough without the verses above.
We wondered what they could mean. Was Jesus referring to those times when we've not stood up for Him as we should, denied him, in effect, like Peter? Or maybe not on such a grand scale; simply those grey, grubby, parts of the everyday struggle when we've not been as close to him as we maybe should have been? The all too familiar periods of ennui, 'blahs' and blips. All of this maybe? Although it was more the implications that got us; if we're ashamed, how much more will Christ be ashamed.... A sobering thought.
Now I'm not trying to minimise the graivity of all this. And yet... I got to thinking about shame and self knowledge (often uncomfortable). There's the censorious, self-righteous, condemning 'ashamed.' The finger-pointing, tut-tut, throwing the first stone 'ashamed.' You know, I don't think that's what Jesus is referring to here. Try 'deeply saddened,' 'stricken,' 'cut to the heart,' maybe. Made not out of a need to put the person in their place, but out of a loving concern for their welfare.
Here's the example I gave. I wondered at the time why I reacted the way I did to one of the final scenes in 'Chocolat' the way I did:
In the film (differs from the book btw), the Comte de Reynaud, the village's self-appointed censorious, priggish moral guardian ( a pharisee if ever there was one!) weakened by over zealous Lenten fasting is overcome by the dawning realisation that his marriage has failed, his own actions have almost led to tragedy, and that worst, the God he thought could supply all the answers, is noticeable by his absence. He breaks into the Chocolaterie of his arch rival Vianne, and starts to smash the place up, before sucumbing to his darker side; grabbing at chocolates and stuffing them down his throat in a frantic, almost animal-like orgy of greed and lust before collapsing weeping. The next morning, Vianne finds him sleeping in the shop window, grubby, tear stained, and as he wakes, deeply, deeply ashamed.
What would your reaction be? What was Vianne's? WWJD, as they say? I was surprised at mine. Knowing the ending already, I'd thought, as I reckon most of us would, that I'd look forward to seeing this holier- than- thou complacent goody-goody, kill-joy get his well-deserved comeuppance. Instead, I found the scene disturbing; almost unbearably moving. Why? Because I think, of Vianne's reaction, which was not to mock or condemn, but simply to hand him a glass of alka-seltzer. Simple as that. And, as you can see from the next scene, help him get back on his feet and to begin the long, slow and I'd imagine, painful journey back to acceptance by the community.
God moves in mysterious ways, as the old hymn says...