We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now; and not only that, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, we also groan within ourselves as we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Romans 8:22-24
The daily readings during Easter feature the Acts of the Apostles and although the events are familiar, I have been listening this year with a more imaginatively involved ear. One aspect of this has been to alternatively adopt the perspective of each participant in the reading, doing so with the understanding that nothing that has been revealed to us of the future is known to them.
And so we came to the following passage beginning at Acts 5:34:
"A Pharisee in the Sanhedrin named Gamaliel, a teacher of the law, respected by all the people, stood up, ordered the Apostles to be put outside for a short time, and said to the Sanhedrin,
‘Fellow children of Israel, be careful what you are about to do to these men. Some time ago, Theudas appeared, claiming to be someone important, and about four hundred men joined him, but he was killed,and all those who were loyal to him were disbanded and came to nothing. After him came Judas the Galilean at the time of the census. He also drew people after him, but he too perished and all who were loyal to him were scattered. So now I tell you, have nothing to do with these men, and let them go. For if this endeavor or this activity is of human origin, it will destroy itself. But if it comes from God, you will not be able to destroy them; you may even find yourselves fighting against God.’
They were persuaded by him. After recalling the Apostles, they had them flogged, ordered them to stop speaking in the name of Jesus, and dismissed them.”
This passage, unlike most in the book of Acts, gives us a middle-ground perspective in the person of Gamaliel. And this engaged me. This passage has an apparent simplicity, but it held me and would not let me move on.
Was Gamaliel's intervention significant? Would the Jesus movement have died if the apostles had been snuffed out in that moment of time and all their acts cut short? If we believe that, then certainly Gamaliel was an unlikely hero. But ironically, to believe that would also imbue the council with the power to control the fate of God's intervention with man, and to reduce the resurrection to the status of a story, a fable that could be suppressed and rendered harmless and forgotten.
That was the Sanhedrin's desire: to suppress this disruptive fantasy and restore the safety of tradition, to wake people up from this dream and bring them back to reality. As I adhered to this desire - in the imagination - waking up from dream - aligning with the council’s choice - life seemed to lose a dimension. (Was it the dimension of hope?)
I returned to Gamaliel and realized that I empathized with him. He was trying to make the right decision, using all the logic he could muster. I saw him as the good child, the obedient child, doing what he was taught and basing it on the authority of a long tradition of obedience to God. An obedience that was being challenged by the followers of this man who claimed to be God.
But I also saw Gamaliel's statement as perhaps characterizing his own internal personal dilemma, even what might be called a crisis of faith. This is the territory of his "middle ground". A suspension between the backward look of tradition and the forward look into the unknown. A suspension that cannot be sustained and must lead to either a settlement within the safe domain of accepted reasoning or a leap of faith on to an unmapped path.
I then realized what had “held” me about this passage: it is a stark confrontation between reason and revelation. Between the mind and the heart. Between doubt and faith. It confronted me with the question of what I might have done, seated at the council table, having been given all the tools of intelligence and reason, and bolstered by the weight of tradition.
Stepping out of these imagined roles and into the present, I understood better the perspective that we often adopt when reading Scripture, reading it in the same manner that one might study a classic painting, with the result that the scripture passages become static, familiar and ultimately unmoving. In contrast, the value of imaginative involvement is that it can help us avoid the tendency to insulate ourselves. Our lives are not static and our need for decision making is ever present. Scripture only comes alive in our lives if we consciously apply its teachings in the present moment, in our choices and in the paths we choose to follow.
As in the moment when we encounter the homeless person on the downtown street, only to cast our glance away and walk on by - we are the council. Or when, as we feel uncomfortable and glance back - we are Gamaliel. Or when the realization comes that if we had stopped and offered help - we would have been the apostle.
....
A Catholic friend of mine confided to me that he is a deist at heart and believes that nature unfolds following laws that will never change, in essence saying that God is finished creating the world and He leaves it to us to find meaning in it. But how does the Truth play itself out?
Life either becomes a vanishing point (if it not be of God) or a space explored, a space never completely mapped or measured (if it be of God).
Reality bleeds through the neat lines that theory is fond of drawing.
I said in response to my friend that I believe creation is still 'under way'.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I hope you will start to write more and one day publish your work. You have so much to say and it should be shared. Love you
Post a Comment