25-october-2015-pentecost-22-fr-ian-crooks-preacher

OS 30 B

Job 42:1-6, 10-17

Pentecost 22 B

Psalm 34:1-8

25 October 2015

Hebrews 7:21-28

CCSL

Mark 10:46-52

9:00/10:30am

A disciple went to a master in great despair about his prayer life, complaining that nothing was happening.

“I may as well wish that the sun will rise each morning, for all the good it’s doing me”.

The master looked deeply into his eyes and said, “my son, your daily routine of prayer will help you be alert for when the sun does rise.”

Some of the more helpful counsel given to me by my spiritual director echoed the same wisdom: “Just keep turning up”, she said. “No matter how you’re feeling, or how busy you are, go to your time and place of prayer and pray as you can and not as you can’t (Dom. John Chapman), and read the scriptures, and just sit, even if nothing happens.”

Over the years I have endeavoured to practice such a discipline of ‘just turning up’ and I’ve found myself wondering as I close the door behind me, ‘perhaps today will be the day when I meet Our Lord and there is “nothing in between”.’

(Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, CH. 5 (1966) Penguin, p. 68)

Just keep turning up is what Bartimaeus did year after year, probably at the same place beside the road, at the same time each day in a routine which meant his survival; almost a ritual, gathering his cloak around him in such a way to catch the coins from those passing by.

“Never underestimate the power of ritual” says Ron Rolheiser OMI (from Daily Meditation 7/7/15) And yet, have not you or I ever wondered about the value of participating in worship, in praying even, when seemingly our hearts are not in it? Are we just

going through the motions, parroting words, hardly remembering what we’ve just said or sung? What’s the value in that we might ask? And if not you or I, then maybe family or friends.

“The value in ritual,” says Rolheiser, “is that the ritual itself can hold and sustain our hearts in something deeper than the emotions of the moment.”

Even if we do not express any emotions when we practice our spiritual disciplines- we may very well, if we are truly seeking God, we may well invoke a shift within us, a shift, a movement which God exploits.

Which is what happened to Bartimaeus. Hearing about a new teacher/healer on the block, he manages to have his cry for help heard by Jesus, in spite of the voices around him, maybe within, NOT to bother, to remain mute. But Bartimaeus persisted, seeking relief from his pitiful existence, seeking a better life, seeking more than his present existence.

Not unlike the persistence and hope of asylum seekers and refugees fleeing from violence and a deathly, dark future. To quote the refugee advocate, Paris Aristotle, “The most incredible thing is people’s ability to survive experiences I can’t imagine… Their courage in finding ways to carve out a future for themselves and their families is the most extraordinary emblem of resilience” (SMH. Good Weekend, 26/9/15, p. 16); and we as a nation demonise their determination.

Does that kind of perseverance, does that resilience in wanting, in seeking a closer, deeper intimacy with Our Lord- does that describe our spiritual journeyas if our life depended upon it? Because it does!

It was either Michael Ramsey or Kenneth Leech, who died recently, who lamented the increasing casual attitude towards worship, prayer and the Holy Eucharist. In terms of the latter it was becoming, he observed, a rather sociable stroll to the altar, as if on a Sunday school picnic! A far cry from the longing, the yearning of the Psalmist (Ps 42) As the deer longs for the water brooks, so longs my soul for you, O God. My soul is athirst for God; for the living God; When shall I come before the presence of God?

OR, from the images Our Lord gives of a woman desperate for justice, hounding the judge until he relents (Luke 18.1-8) - or of a man who found a prized pearl and sells everything he had (Matthew 13:45) - of a householder passionate to offer hospitality to a late visitor and pestering a neighbour well after bedtime (Luke 11:5) - and of a man who was blind and wouldn’t be put off from seeking Jesus in spite of the obstacles (Mark 10:46f) And then there’s Job who relinquishes his whole modus operandi, his neat and tidy, black and white conventional spiritual framework, which didn’t stack up against reality, and admitting he had it wrong, realising that he didn’t know all about God or God’s ways-and he starts again; he now accepts that he doesn’t understand, and he gives himself over to the mystery of God. Which is what prayer is, at its heart, at its deepest: simply coming before God, and allowing ourselves to be awakened from our spiritual blindness, and beginning again- and again- and again, expecting nothing, and hoping, longing for everything. With that disposition everything is transformed. We will no longer see Jesus as just a miracle-worker, as someone who will solve our problems and calm our anxieties. Even though at times we, like Bartimaeus, will plead for mercy, that God will come to our aid, - our living prayerfully will slowly change us, so that our living, day by day, becomes a way of looking- a way of looking at others, at the world, through the eyes of Jesus, who was present to the present moment even though the unknown suffering of the cross was looming ahead of him. This way of looking is to become part of Our Lord’s constant intercession for the world, “coming before God with the people on our hearts” to quote Michael Ramsey. (The Christian Priest Today.

SPKC, 1972, p.15) -a calling I believe for the whole people of God not just those of us who are ordained. It is to allow ourselves to be drawn into the passion of Christ, giving ourselves in sacrificial living, which does not mean martyrdom but rather living thankfully, living selflessly, “living as if every moment opens out the pathway into the life of God” (Rowan Williams, Living Eucharistically, Public Seminar, Trinity College 16/5/02) -and also into life as it happens around us.

“Where shall I look for enlightenment?” asked the disciple.

“Here”, the Holy One said.

“When will it happen?”

“It is happening right now”, said the Holy One. “Then why don’t I experience it?” asked the disciple.

“Because you do not look”.

“What should I look for?”

“Nothing,” the Holy One said, “just look!”

“At what?” asked the disciple.

“Anything your eyes alight upon”, the Holy One said.

“Must I look in a special kind of way?”

“No” the Holy One said, “the ordinary way will do”.

“But don’t I always look the ordinary way?”

“No,” the Holy One said, “you don’t.”

“Why ever not?” the disciple asked.

“Because to look, you must be here,” the Holy One said, “you’re mostly somewhere else!” (Insights for the Ages, J.Chittister, St Paul, 1992, p.178).

Even in prayer, or worship, or with our loved ones or friends, we can be mostly somewhere else.

If Bartimaeus had been somewhere else that day, he would have missed that life-giving encounter with Our Lord. It’s routine, his persistence opened the way for the grace of sight – and he was never the same again, following Jesus on the way, into the unknown.

May you and I do likewise.