Month: April 2020

Jesus Curses a Fig Tree; no map, but a Story

By Rev. Canon Francis Omondi

 

What is the road map?

The women seem to have had a clue. Jesus’ disciples had a map that guided to Jerusalem, but it was now mangled for any useful purpose. Christ did not just die, it was a violent, shameful spectacle whose shadow eclipsed his followers also all week long. The disciples’ faith took a thorough beating, making the days between the resurrection and ascension to heaven most disturbing of all. They were lost in fear.

But the women shook off the paralysis of fear, and in faith sought to understand their times. The empty tomb first greeted them with a rebuke “do not look for the living among the dead”. Then the angel gave a new map, meet Jesus in ghettoes of Galilee. There he will direct you. Yet the women kept quiet. They controlled the narrative and would not let the men revive the failed one, of the restoration of Kingdom of Israel. But the men’s tacit concerns was, is Jesus still a king? Uncertain of the future, the men from Galilee were determined not to mix things again. It was his word, back to obscurity.

One can only imagine how the petrified disciples clung together while still in Jerusalem. You would have expected them to rejoice at the resurrection. Yet fear of their fate triggers a distant memory, a recollection of the week’s Passover events. Not in detail, but some elements of the traumatic memories. Memories that they acutely remembered. It was flashbulb memories, like when one’s adrenaline bursts out to enhance memory storage, and replays events in one’s inner eyes, of what they had just witnessed at the onset of a stressful event.

The disciples recalled Jesus cursing the fig tree saying; “Let no fruit grow on you ever again”. An incident that left them amazed. “How did the fig tree wither so quickly?” You would remember it too had you been there. Wouldn’t you?

Jesus had led his disciples to Bethpage, also known as “House of Figs.” One can imagine how many fig trees grew there. Yet he focused on this one tree. Seeing it would make you hungry, but you wouldn’t want to show it early in the morning. It was a fraud. The tree gave a false impression of having figs while it only had leaves. Plenty of dark green leaves, but no fruits. Customary, such figs would bear leaves and figs.

St. Matthew shortens the event, as if for dramatic impact and to fit in twitter, for those who care to share. He fused a two-day event into one. Had we not gathered more from St. Mark, we would not have known that the transaction had two separate stages: Jesus uttered the curse on the Monday morning, before the cleansing of the temple; the effect was seen, and the lesson given on the Tuesday, when Jesus was visiting Jerusalem for the third time.

gray trunk green leaf tree beside body of water

Photo by Daniel Watson on Pexels.com

The brain focuses on what is central to survival and not on insignificant and peripheral details during a threatening event, and so it does not encode them. You now understand why they would not have missed remembering Christs’ last miracle. It was a destructive miracle. This one, and the herd of pigs drowning, are the only two we find anywhere in Jesus’ work. Aren’t we grateful that he did not direct them at people, otherwise we would see people wither away like the fig tree, or drawn like the pigs.

In this acted-out-parable, Jesus warned of coming judgment upon an unfruitful Israel. Jesus’ cursing of the fig tree should warn the unrepentant Jews of the destruction and final ruin of their state by the Romans. For they professed the true religion and considered themselves the special people of God, while they were only hypocrites who did the opposite of the religion they professed. An example of abundance of leaves, but no fruit. The disciples got it! They were ready and strained to chart a path not end up like the fig tree nor the Jewish nation that the act inferred.

The story is straightforward, and its point obvious. What counts is not promise. The Christian life is all about growing and producing fruit that glorifies God. At this time of global pandemic, will the church yield fruit, or be a disappointment? This COVID-19 crisis has in a way brought Christ to the church’s doors, and he needs fruit.

I am at pains to affirm that the church today is situated to provide help for the victims as well and hope. An analogy between why figs may not bear fruit, and the church’s failure to yield its fruit, is instructive.

First, one common reason a fig tree would not produce figs is, according to Heather Rhoades [1] “too much nitrogen”. A fig tree would be affected if it’s up-take of nitrogen fertilizer exceeds limits. “Nitrogen causes the plant to have lush growth in leaves and branches, but very little if any fruit”  She states. I would relate the church’s draw for support of the society to the nitrogen fertilizer. It is possible for a church more concern with the public image given her, intake from, than the fruit, the output she affords, the society, be on a fast lane to leafy fruitlessness. In striving to fit in the influential society, she becomes complicit to its insidious culture of violence against the poor. The church today is preoccupied with image production and protection at the expense of being prophetic.

The church exists in this symbol saturated society. Here signs and symbols promise happiness, contentment, and the full human life. Such that happiness is the clothes you wear, the car you drive, and the goods you consume. Scott Lash and John Urry in their work ‘Economies of Signs and Space’ observed that, “The main export of the USA today is a so-called culture; films, icons, logos, signs.” What circulate are signs and symbols. Advertisers know that what we consume nowadays are not products so much as cultural signs.

The church need to imprint her signs and images as well. The symbols of our society promise two things: happiness and citizenship. And so do we, but differently. We are called to embody a different joy and a different belonging. It is reasonable to view Christianity and our faith through these lenses, icons, signs and symbols.

Our most conspicuous sign in the Cross of Christ. Every time we meet, we gather around this sign. We do this to remember the story of the day they crucified him on Good Friday and perpetuate the story of the last supper. This is our foundational story, the one in which we find the meaning of our lives. It is a violent story which tells of a disappeared future.  “Unfortunately, during the course of 2,000 years of Christian history, this symbol of salvation has been detached from any reference to the ongoing suffering and oppression of human beings—called “the crucified peoples of history” Said Prof. James Cone. The cross has been transformed into a harmless, non-offensive ornament that Christians wear around their necks. Rather than reminding us of the “cost of discipleship,” it has become a form of “cheap grace,” in the words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer,  an easy way to salvation that doesn’t force us to confront the power of Christ’s message and mission.

The church is called to obey Christ and not just to accept belief. There is a powerful message for us on the interconnection of faith and obedience. One cannot believe unless they obey. We should so encourage one to obey, to be granted faith. We characterise our faith today with easier acceptance of belief than obedience. According to Bonhoeffer, “this is true, though it misses the important other-half: only those who obey can believe”. Even still, we are still saved through faith, expressed in our obedience, but discipleship is an essential part of faith.

The church will stay fruitless unless she experiences a radical shift in her view of the cross and sees it with the lenses of James Cone who states: “But when I took up the cross, I recognized its meaning… It is not something that you wear. The cross is something that you bear and ultimately that you die on.”

black and white cemetery christ church

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Second, “If a fig tree is suffering from water stress caused by either too little or too much water, this can cause it to stop producing figs or never start producing, if it is a younger tree” Heather observes. “Water stress will send the tree into a survival mode and the fig tree will simply not have the energy needed to invest in making fruit.” In the same way, when the church feels threatened, her survival becomes the goal. She would want to preserve her little resources, or cling to her vast wealth to keep standards. In both cases the church would be a stagnant pool instead of a river, always insular. They will judge those “other” approaching  her as a threat to her survival. By this attitude the church would deny even Jesus himself fruit.

The just, or righteous, receive the eternal reward because they fulfilled Jesus’ and the Old Testament requirements of justice, reversing the condition of the poor. Prof Nicholas Wolterstorff observes, “to fail to provide help for the needy is not a question of charity but of Justice and is to wrong Jesus himself. The just therefore will receive this reward because they fulfilled Jesus’ and the Old Testament requirements of justice, reversing the condition of the poor”. In rendering justice to his downtrodden and excluded brothers and sister’s, Jesus calls these people the “least”,  we render justice to him and in treating them unjustly we treat him unjustly. To wrong the social least is to wrong Jesus himself. This would be fruitlessness.

Jesus cursed the fig tree as an object lesson to everyone that God expects us to bear the fruit of righteousness, showing us the consequences of failing in that task.

The church has a task to give hope in our current crisis. No one can do so. Yet if the church is to succeed, she will have to learn and sing the prophet Habakkuk’s, prayer (3:17-19). It is a song of another  fig tree that did not bear fruit. The church will have to grasp what God is saying, and like Habakkuk resign to the fact that God will not relent the impending disaster, meanwhile maintaining the confidence in God’s ability and will to save. While the prophet waited for a sure disaster, our world is already being decimated by the COVID-19 pandemic. Its medical impact is frightening, but the terror about to hit us is its social and economic damage.

As soon as Habakkuk saw God seated in his Holy temple, a vison rare in such times, he expressed his joy and faith that God is on his side and with his people. In the same way, only in sharing this vison shall the church respond in faith. As she goes out in obedience to God’s word, to help the victims, she would share the joy and faith that God is with us.

Habakkuk knew that God was merciful and gracious. He trusted his promise, though all appearances were against its fulfillment; for he knew that the word of Jehovah could not fail, and therefore his confidence is unshaken. It is in submission to the will of God, and not denying the evil at hand, will we give hope. Only then will God’s Spirit sing through us the song of faith.

What can one add to this hymn sang in inexpressible dignity and elegance. “Though the fig tree shall not blossom”, repeats the prophet’s confidence in God, which should mirror ours where the governments and international interventions fail. When our own labours bring forth no help and the staff of life shall fail…

This song shall be our sign, our icon, and hope that God is in it, with us.

Christianity here offers a story. A story that takes away our road map, and in return gives us intimacy with the Lord. We should not fear being in this crisis. The church will be born in a crisis of hope.

 

Canon Omondi, a priest of Anglican Church of Kenya, All Saints Cathedral Diocese Nairobi.

 

 

 

[1] http://www.gardeningknowhow.com/fruit-gardening/fig-tree-is-producing-fruit.htm

 

The Silence is Broken…

 

By Rev. Canon Francis Omondi

Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome became more eloquent in silence than words, and we can interpret this in many ways.

The day after Sabbath, of crucifixion, they slithered in the halo of silence to the tomb with choice spices to anoint Jesus’s body. You may be right to think they feared. For the Galileans had become an endangered species in Jerusalem during this Passover. The lynching mobs were still in town, you would be very afraid if had ever been associated with man of Galilee.  The haunting voices of the crowds baying for Jesus’ blood vibrated along the narrow streets of Jerusalem. For instance, A sound one makes outside appears to echo the chants: “away with this man…”,  “crucify him”, “we have no king, we have no king… but Ceaser”, all this would ring in ones mind.

How could they speak to anyone in Jerusalem without risking being lynched?

In their silence, the women didn’t arrange for the stone movers at the grave. And this troubled them. But how could they trust the men of their company, who themselves were silent and afraid? The men had a distinct silence. A defeated silence. Like when one can tell no more stories. Akin to what Rabbi Hugo Gryn describes when he arrived at Auschwitz, the entrance to the camp was littered with thrown away tefillin. The Jews used the tefillin in daily Jewish prayers. This became a sign that here in the camp, there was no point in praying any longer.

These men from Galilee had been sustained with a narrative on the road to Jerusalem. And they were convinced of what would happen. The Romans would be driven out at last. Jesus would restore the kingdom to Israel and be their warrior king. A similar confession was blurted out in disappointment on another road, the road to Emmaus: “we had hoped he was the one to redeem Israel.” Faced with Jesus’ passion and death, the disciples had no story to tell of the future. In that crisis moment, when this fragile community was disintegrating, Jesus took bread and blessed it and gave it to them saying, ‘this is my body, given for you’. He gave himself them, to hold them together in their eminent scattering.

The women knew this and something else about the men, they were not to be counted on for the “operation back to the tomb”. Jesus had exposed them during the last supper. That is the night Judas had sold Jesus, Peter was about to deny him, yes, Peter would betray him and the other disciples would flee in fear.

So, you get the picture on why the women were silent.

In words of Paul Simon, these women dared disturb the sound of silence. The stone at the opening yielded in the naked light of the angle. And the tomb talked without speaking. The women heard without listening. They were writing songs that voices never share.

The radiant tomb broke the silence:

“Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you,” 

but the women remained silent. Why aren’t the women rejoicing Christ is risen? You wonder. Can’t they see that the tomb is empty?

person standing and holding lamp inside cave

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Pexels.com

St. Mark entered the women’s silence. See how he ends the most dramatic of the Gospels with the very brave women silent. Mark observes “… they went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” He had seen a lot that weekend, enough to narrate the story from the last supper to the empty tomb. Yet he refuses to end this Gospel with an explosion of Joy at the resurrection.

The women’s puzzling sound of silence spoke to Mark’s readers in Rome. Mark wanted his readers to discover themselves in the silent women. The disciples in Rome had created a narrative for the future. The second coming of Christ. This hope intensified with the increase in persecution by Nero in AD 60s. Peter and Paul were murdered, the Roman Christians were filled with dismay and distrust, with betraying one another to avoid persecution, Jesus must be eminent. But he did not come.

Though Jesus was not present in the tomb, the women and his followers could still meet him, said the angel: “He is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him as he told you.” Mark wished his readers embrace the women’s hope and live this absence of Jesus with joy.

The silent women still speak to us who seek to find the Savior. Jesus is not in the tomb he is found in his word and in his promises, for he has gone out to Galilee. Suspending gathering in church buildings to curb the spread of coronavirus has opened us to the notion of Jesus’ presence outside.

“He is not here” was the angel’s counsel to the women we ought to heed. We may not meet Christ in our familiar places because he has arrived at the rendezvous, and there he is waiting for us. Jesus is locked down with the poor. He is there with those who suffer hunger because they have not been at work. Jesus is with the sick who have no healthcare. He is with those violently oppressed and made poor by corrupt state policies. How do we whisper in silence when Jesus is already among the poor waiting for us?

img_4898

Photo by Robin Wyatt for TSM relief 2013

The devastating impact  of COVID 19 has exposed the façade, and we can’t hide our violence on the poor. Those that teach blind obedience to corrupt leaders either misunderstand Romans 13:1 or are attempting to suppress Christian righteous action. Who would but the church to question and act on these issues?  Bonhoeffer said, “Silence in the face of evil, is itself evil.” As we arrived at the triumphant Easter, we may like the women, be locked in silence if fear has made us blind. Such fear may extinguish our glow. If the church must be a true witness for Christ in crisis time, it must find courage. The silent courage of the women that led them out.

In going out, therefore, we will meet Jesus as friends. We do not try in our strength to merit life after death, as a reward. But his life wells out of us, enabling us to live by the Beatitudes: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven; blessed are the meek, those who hunger and thirst after justice, the pure in heart, the peace makers, and so on. For such is where the path begins of eternal life now and eternal friendship.

So every time we gather as a community to celebrate the Eucharist, we remember the moment in which Jesus faced death and disintegration when the disciples had lost what to say about where they were going. We do so with words that come from the Gospels, which were written in the light of the second significant loss of a story about the future when Jesus didn’t return when they expected. The COVID-19 crisis has wrecked our characterization of Christ. It has made tombs of our church institutions, releasing Jesus into the society. Can we imagine the open tomb, with Jesus is recasting his church in the society, in families, among the suffering poor? And raising priests of all believers, eviscerating the clergy centered ministry that we have known for long?

As this Gospel ends with the angel’s initiation to carry on the journey. The end of the gospel is not the end of the story, but the beginning of the journey, our journey. The women walked it in silence. We must keep on walking our walk.

 Canon Francis Omondi is a Priest of the Anglican Church of Kenya, of All Saints Cathedral Diocese.

 

 

The Silence is Broken…

 

By Rev. Canon Francis Omondi

Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome became more eloquent in silence than words, and we can interpret this in many ways.

The day after Sabbath, of crucifixion, they slithered in the halo of silence to the tomb with choice spices to anoint Jesus’s body. You may be right to think they feared. For the Galileans had become an endangered species in Jerusalem during this Passover. The lynching mobs were still in town, you would be very afraid if had ever been associated with man of Galilee.  The haunting voices of the crowds baying for Jesus’ blood vibrated along the narrow streets of Jerusalem. For instance, A sound one makes outside appears to echo the chants: “away with this man…”,  “crucify him”, “we have no king, we have no king… but Ceaser”, all this would ring in ones mind.

How could they speak to anyone in Jerusalem without risking being lynched?

In their silence, the women didn’t arrange for the stone movers at the grave. And this troubled them. But how could they trust the men of their company, who themselves were silent and afraid? The men had a distinct silence. A defeated silence. Like when one can tell no more stories. Akin to what Rabbi Hugo Gryn describes when he arrived at Auschwitz, the entrance to the camp was littered with thrown away tefillin. The Jews used the tefillin in daily Jewish prayers. This became a sign that here in the camp, there was no point in praying any longer.

These men from Galilee had been sustained with a narrative on the road to Jerusalem. And they were convinced of what would happen. The Romans would be driven out at last. Jesus would restore the kingdom to Israel and be their warrior king. A similar confession was blurted out in disappointment on another road, the road to Emmaus: “we had hoped he was the one to redeem Israel.” Faced with Jesus’ passion and death, the disciples had no story to tell of the future. In that crisis moment, when this fragile community was disintegrating, Jesus took bread and blessed it and gave it to them saying, ‘this is my body, given for you’. He gave himself them, to hold them together in their eminent scattering.

The women knew this and something else about the men, they were not to be counted on for the “operation back to the tomb”. Jesus had exposed them during the last supper. That is the night Judas had sold Jesus, Peter was about to deny him, yes, Peter would betray him and the other disciples would flee in fear.

So, you get the picture on why the women were silent.

In words of Paul Simon, these women dared disturb the sound of silence. The stone at the opening yielded in the naked light of the angle. And the tomb talked without speaking. The women heard without listening. They were writing songs that voices never share.

The radiant tomb broke the silence:

“Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you,” 

but the women remained silent. Why aren’t the women rejoicing Christ is risen? You wonder. Can’t they see that the tomb is empty?

person standing and holding lamp inside cave

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Pexels.com

St. Mark entered the women’s silence. See how he ends the most dramatic of the Gospels with the very brave women silent. Mark observes “… they went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” He had seen a lot that weekend, enough to narrate the story from the last supper to the empty tomb. Yet he refuses to end this Gospel with an explosion of Joy at the resurrection.

The women’s puzzling sound of silence spoke to Mark’s readers in Rome. Mark wanted his readers to discover themselves in the silent women. The disciples in Rome had created a narrative for the future. The second coming of Christ. This hope intensified with the increase in persecution by Nero in AD 60s. Peter and Paul were murdered, the Roman Christians were filled with dismay and distrust, with betraying one another to avoid persecution, Jesus must be eminent. But he did not come.

Though Jesus was not present in the tomb, the women and his followers could still meet him, said the angel: “He is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him as he told you.” Mark wished his readers embrace the women’s hope and live this absence of Jesus with joy.

The silent women still speak to us who seek to find the Savior. Jesus is not in the tomb he is found in his word and in his promises, for he has gone out to Galilee. Suspending gathering in church buildings to curb the spread of coronavirus has opened us to the notion of Jesus’ presence outside.

“He is not here” was the angel’s counsel to the women we ought to heed. We may not meet Christ in our familiar places because he has arrived at the rendezvous, and there he is waiting for us. Jesus is locked down with the poor. He is there with those who suffer hunger because they have not been at work. Jesus is with the sick who have no healthcare. He is with those violently oppressed and made poor by corrupt state policies. How do we whisper in silence when Jesus is already among the poor waiting for us?

img_4898

Photo by Robin Wyatt for TSM relief 2013

The devastating impact  of COVID 19 has exposed the façade, and we can’t hide our violence on the poor. Those that teach blind obedience to corrupt leaders either misunderstand Romans 13:1 or are attempting to suppress Christian righteous action. Who would but the church to question and act on these issues?  Bonhoeffer said, “Silence in the face of evil, is itself evil.” As we arrived at the triumphant Easter, we may like the women, be locked in silence if fear has made us blind. Such fear may extinguish our glow. If the church must be a true witness for Christ in crisis time, it must find courage. The silent courage of the women that led them out.

In going out, therefore, we will meet Jesus as friends. We do not try in our strength to merit life after death, as a reward. But his life wells out of us, enabling us to live by the Beatitudes: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven; blessed are the meek, those who hunger and thirst after justice, the pure in heart, the peace makers, and so on. For such is where the path begins of eternal life now and eternal friendship.

So every time we gather as a community to celebrate the Eucharist, we remember the moment in which Jesus faced death and disintegration when the disciples had lost what to say about where they were going. We do so with words that come from the Gospels, which were written in the light of the second significant loss of a story about the future when Jesus didn’t return when they expected. The COVID-19 crisis has wrecked our characterization of Christ. It has made tombs of our church institutions, releasing Jesus into the society. Can we imagine the open tomb, with Jesus is recasting his church in the society, in families, among the suffering poor? And raising priests of all believers, eviscerating the clergy centered ministry that we have known for long?

As this Gospel ends with the angel’s initiation to carry on the journey. The end of the gospel is not the end of the story, but the beginning of the journey, our journey. The women walked it in silence. We must keep on walking our walk.

 Canon Francis Omondi is a Priest of the Anglican Church of Kenya, of All Saints Cathedral Diocese.

 

 

Silence… in Gethsemane

By Canon Francis Omondi

 

image

I become a frequent guest at Gethsemane. Issues concerning our nation drew me to this garden of prayer. They weighed heavy on my heart, the way a nightmare would trouble a waking mind. If only I could mangle and model the country, like children do plasticine or mud to make creatures they name animals, in God’s image.

I prayed in agony, in the Gethsemane way. Prayers that would make you sweat blood, like what happened to Jesus. But in all my times there, no droplets appeared on my brow, even though l kept looking.

Yes, I agonised. Only for a response similar to Jesus’ that night, in a resounding same sequence.  First, silence. Then break the haunting silence with a solemn whisper: “may thy will be done”.

So, I would dram from “this cup” of God’s will.

Praying at Gethsemane leaves one with more questions than one had raised before God. Gritty questions. The kind that would shove you to the “How long?” streets where the ancient prophets still ask.

It’s a lonely street. The company of Cranmer offers little help, for we are grappling with issues that never found entry in the Book of Common Prayer. So, I may be blessed to be in company of intercessors. But one will have to watch out, their tendency to sleep in the garden would remind you that it is your burden. And it is best borne alone, as the Negroes long discovered and sang: “it’s me, it’s  me, oh Lord; Standing in the need of prayer …”

I would move and kneel, and at times, lie flat in one section of the garden. There I would demand, no.., I would plead in a gentle voice, spewing questions after another:

“How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen?

Or cry out to you, “violence!” but you do not save?

Why do you make me look at injustice?

Why do you tolerate wrongdoing? “

The silence in heaven would be as impenetrable as a steel fence. I would to another spot. A rock of a corner not good for kneeling. Seated I would appear to change words but, in my mind, stick to the script.

“Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds.”

The perpetrators of these evils are bonding with the righteous. They not only exchange business cards, but money as well. The prayers they make  are not meant for your ears. No, they make sure the press gets us listening, and we can pray with them from a distance.

“Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails.” I don’t mean the courts are not busy, and lawyers are not waxing eloquence… but we are not sure anymore that we are using the same law. It is complicated.  “The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted.”

On this day, God spoke. His words were a vision, as clear as it would appear on a TV screen.

“For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.” God said.

I listened with the fear of what God might do. A fear mingled with the joy that God has finally spoken. One is tempted to ask questions, but how do you interrupt?  His ways are higher… for “… the just shall live by faith” as he promised.

The details of God’s action plan troubled me.  He can’t be sending the COVID -19 pandemic  to decimate people of the world. This cannot be his work. What of the poor? Or the church?  Why would the innocent little children also suffer with the evil?

While I questioned, the plague was already sweeping the world like a hungry eagle swooping for a prey. There is no need to “Write down the revelation and make it plain on tablets so that a herald[b] may run with it.”

A good number of our MPs are infected, so it seems. Like fierce evening wolves, it is sending to the grave thousands in countries proud of their age old progress.

Could it be how God wants the earth “… be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God as the waters cover the sea”.

“O Lord, …in wrath, remember mercy!” I have never seen nationwide intercessions like in the last few months. In statehouses, on the streets, in hospitals and homes, but seldom in churches for they have suspended gatherings.

At the garden Jesus prayed, “… not my will, but yours be done.” And there was silence. I have learnt a fresh way of praying. Silence. “The Lord is in his holy temple let the earth keep silence before him.”

Being in God’s presence may we wait and listen in silence.

 

 

Canon Francis Omondi is a priest in the Anglican Church of Kenya.

 

Jesus cleanses the temple, What shall purify the church? 

 

By Canon Francis Omondi

 

The triumphal entry into Jerusalem, with all the acclamation by the pilgrims during the Passover week, must have got Jesus. For he confronted the religious  establishment, the priests and the teachers of the law, head on. It was short of  “throwing stones into the police station”.

Jesus arrived at the temple courts and went straight to the area supposed to be where the gentiles, lame and sick, worshipped.

It was strange.

A market on a market day. With international and local merchants, many of dubious reputation. The traders learnt what cartels know today: that  “wares” spiritual value, sell: customers do not bargain: and insiders the religious group, are reliable and would deliver cheap.

So, sheep, cattle, doves, all for sacrifice to atone sin, were stocked in the inside market. The teachers of the law developed the teaching, and priest demanded the offerings to unleash divine blessing. This  arrangement made the cost was dear. A pair of doves could cost as little as shs. 4 outside the Temple and as much as shs. 75 inside the Temple. This is almost 20 times more expensive. And one had to use temple currencies, which sold at an even higher price. The trade was booming, and they were willing. The noisy buyer and seller interaction drowned the hallelujahs of assent, stifling the Passover Feast spirit.

Not today.

Ku boooom!” Jesus sprang into action.

Whip this one here, slap the other one there.

Turning over the money changers tables. Freeing doves from cages, kicking out cattle and sheep and those involved.

Jesus imposed a lockdown. Not of worshipers, but of traders and their goods.  He called a press conference in the temple and quoting the prophet Isaiah, he said:

Is it not written, My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations?” (Mark 11:17).

Jesus was demanding of the temple be a place for all nations to pray, as the prophet Isaiah prophesied. How could the Gentiles come to pray with all those who bought and sold in the outer courts? Impossible. They made this place of prayer into a marketplace, and an extraordinary one, a dishonest one, also called a ‘den of thieves’.

The blind and the lame seeing the open court flocked into their space; where now they could get closer to the temple and access the altar to sacrifice. Jesus healed them, and resuming the business of the Messiah, of showing the power of God in compassion and mercy. There was a contemporary expectation that the Messiah would cleanse the temple, both approving it after the pagan conquerors (such as Antiochus Epiphanes and Pompey), but also from the false worship from God’s own people.

What Jesus did in the temple rekindled the street acclamation the day before. But it was children in the Temple, who responded first. It was a common thing among the Jews to use children for public acclamations, and more so to hail their celebrated Rabbis. They showed little interested in the Rabbis and all run to the Gentile court where Jesus was still standing.  This was once in a life-time moment. Just like the event in the movie,  “Moses and the Ten commandments”,  when the Egyptian chariots were being submerged in the Red sea with jubilant Israelites praising God. No, they found a song,  one already written on everyone’s lips… “Hosanna to the Son of David!”  This they shouted their hearts out, to the chagrin of the religious group.

What can you do if you were the religious leaders? Indignant and burning with envy and jealousy for the wonderful things that Jesus did,  they tried to quieten the house of prayer. The voices rose as sacrifices to the ear of God, pure children’s voices, and grateful people were at peace with God.

But the religious group had Jesus on their radar. He has to go silent six feet down.

This is a story of many paradoxes. Religious leaders in a murder scheme. Holy Temple, which is a den of thieves. Greed and theft tied in worship and sacrifices. The gentle saviour whipping out the thieves from the house of prayer.

Enough for the day one. At Passover time quarters could not be found in the city, it was too crowded with thousands and thousands of pilgrims.  Bethany was close by, where he was in friendly company, the house of Martha and Mary always open to him (cfLuke 21:37).

What shall purify the church?

If Jesus had came to the church today, I doubt he would he change the script. But he would  have to deal with the effects of COVID-19.

He would ride his donkey on streets without the usual processions of Palm Sunday since this government has banned all forms of religious gatherings, triumphal entry included. So, instead of people on the streets, they will line up on Facebook, YouTube, radio and TV to catch the glimpse of the event if they do not stop him.  It will be an anti-climax for a Feast of Passover’s importance.

But this would just be the day before. The day after is the temple cleansing day. What would Jesus do?

On arrival he would find the Gentile place empty. Yes, the entire place would not have the usual crowds that make the temple a place to be. Though, one would spot a few people.  The caretakers, the priest on duty or the bishop or Cardinal all who would maintain social distancing, every other soul would worship from home.

Jesus will miss. The merchants in the holy place would be missing. No tables to turn, no caged doves. This will not be because of COVID 19. Nowadays, the ones of today are sharp. Aware of Jesus’ habit of flogging merchants in holy places, they mutated. They sell tangible and intangible goods, which are miracles, miracle water and anointing oils from Nigeria or Israel. Other only preach health and wealth, it’s very prosperous. While others promise heaven express to tithers. And not to occupy space, they encourage you “send to this mpesa, for your miracle is on the way”.

Today the space is empty.

Jesus would not find the investors in heaven. It has been a while since we had an organised fundraising. The fundraisers also choke worship space in the church. The religious groups like this kind, they bring it already counted in millions. But they are territorial, and rush to contract the church. Even though they speak heavenly tongue, they would not tolerate turf intrusion. Remember the “kieleweke” and “tanga tanga” tussle.

For this, a real spanking was necessary.  The church would not listen to the esteemed Anglican’s Provincial Board of Christian Community Services, who in 1983, issued protocols to protect the likely erosion of the Church’s prophetic role in the society: “Church leaders and especially bishops are strongly urged to correct this situation. Inviting public figures as guests of honour at Church harambees or giving them prominence in a church function merely because of the money they bring is not in accordance with our Christian principles. It tends to silence the prophetic voice of our church leaders  (A report of the CPK Consultation on Theology and Philosophy of Development, 1989: Recommendation B: 2, p. 5, ¶4)”.

Today the whip will not be need.

Since buildings are also stopped, the dealers in brick and mortar are silent.

There will be no need to burn energy there.

But Jesus should have cracked a whip on the keepers of the storehouses. Despite 30 years of stocking, the storehouses in the temple are empty. Where would the quartet of the widows, orphans, strangers and Levites go for help?

Unfortunately, Jesus would not even meet the outcasts, the poor and the lame and sick to personally show them compassion and mercy in the Temple. They would not walk fast enough to beat the curfew. The Karauvirus (police brutality) would kill them before COVID-19. There is no need to worry though, the Phoenician woman, the Centurion and the ten lepers already taught us that Jesus can heal remotely, and at his own cost.

If Jesus got on You Tube, he would direct us to acts of mercy and compassion in this trying time of corona virus. Telling us that what we did to the least of these, “you did it to me”: for I was hungry you fed me, I was naked you clothed me, I was thirsty you gave me a drink, I was a stranger you gave me shelter I was sick and you visited me, therefore, Enter the God’s Kingdom through these acts.

I must admit that restriction to congregate due to COVID-19, saved the church from proper whipping and cleansing. I doubt that the religious group today would have spared Jesus.

 

Rev. Canon Francis Omondi is a priest of the Anglican Church of Kenya, All Saints Cathedral Diocese.

 

A Spoke in The Wheel:  Must act on COVID-19

 

By Rev. Canon Francis Omondi.

Accurate Information to inform our hope and action during these CORVID-19 crisis is vital. We need the TRUTH. Some are down playing its dangers, while some are over stating its impact. Both could lead to untold deaths that could have been avoided,  had we sought accurate facts. If we are to seek God’s help  and speak his word it ought to be in factual information. Otherwise we speak when he did not speak and give people false hope.

Don’t listen to these motivational speakers, they will motivate you to your painful death. We must embrace this calamity, and pray with the prophet Habakkuk: “Lord, … in wrath remember mercy” (Hab. 3:2). For God has spoken to us, although the calamity if furious overshadowing us: “the just person will live by his faithfulness” [faith] (NIV Hab. 2:4b) This is our hope. Because God is faithful to save. And the just, those who do right and act justly. Those who have faith in God,  can depend on His salvation in the centre of the storm. We must listen this voice.

The catastrophe is here already. It is medical in nature. We have information that it is spreading here also but not to the scale of China or Italy or Spain yet. Many will be affected and die, because of our healthcare system. COVID19 crisis has exposed the fraud that is government. Fifty seven years of Independence have yielded a fragile healthcare system unable to cope with medical need of all Kenyans. For this reason the government had resulted to preventive methods of personal hygiene; wash your hands in running water with soap, using sanitizers,  social distancing, avoid congregating, stay home and curfew. So far it is working.

But medical challenge does not compare to the social-economic devastation awaiting us. This will spare no one. The rumbling of its wheels has thrown into panic governments across the world. We will have basically no help from outside. The government mitigation has been suspect. It has bent to the rich corporate group, while ignoring greater challenges of the poorer Kenyans. It’s a catastrophe to be poor in Kenya. The poor have been brutalised, terrorised, traumatised, and stigmatised for 57 years and have come to terms with their plight.

There are three ways in which we can act towards the government actions:

In the first place,  we can ask the state whether its actions are legitimate and in accordance with its character as a state. We must demand the state takes its responsibility seriously.  Majority of the poor Kenyans in the cities depend on casual work for day to day supply, they have not worked now for a week, and another coming. I doubt we have food in the national reserve where will they get food. It is a planting season, who is guiding planting to provide for us by August? Their children are with them and not in school. We just learnt that 4 million youth willing to work are unemployed.

Government policies on healthcare system, economic policies that are making us poor. The state has a responsibility to better lives of all Kenyans, including the poor.

The response has been in to protect the rich and powerful and most important in our society and the foreign markets. – total lockdown was suggested but done in half measure in terms of 7pm to 5 am curfew, this only vital services will be allowed but no one considers the poor as part of the matrix.

Second, we can aid the victims of state action. As citizens, we have an unconditional obligation to the victims of any ordering society, as we have often showed in times of crisis. Act towards helping the invisible poor, provide for those through this crisis lost jobs and means of living without waiting for the state to act.

The third possibility is to put a spoke in the wheel itself. Such action would be direct political action and is only possible and desirable since the state has failed in its function of creating law order and prosperity to all Kenyans.  We fear that our existance as a nation would be threatened if we, as those affected by these policies, do not participate in shaping them. We have learnt this hard fact that if we citizens do not get involved in the political process, we will either die of sickness, or brutality, or poverty.

In embracing the present terror of COVID 19, we will heed the advice of M. F. Weiner, who in 1976 wrote in the journal Medical Economics an article entitled “Don’t Waste a Crisis — Your Patient’s or Your Own.” We will like Weiner appreciate that such medical crisis can improve aspects of personality, mental health, or lifestyle.

Canon Omondi. is a priest of the Anglican Church of Kenya, All Saints Cathedral Diocese.  These are his own views.

Lest we forget… ‘#147isnotaNumber’

By Canon Francis Omondi

 

COVID 19 though acutely terrorizing the world, can’t eclipse the terror enraged in our memory, of what took place at Garissa University a day today, in 2015.

Early morning of Thursday 2-APRIL-2015, the Al-Shabaab terrorists woke the morning  5 am of Garissa University College with Gunshot. The slaughter continued all day long. By ‪8 pm at the end of the Day of horror, 147 (Govt count) people were killed, either shot or slaughtered.  A group of 14  Christian Union student had gathered for early morning prayers. They not only lift their voice in prayers to heaven, the terrorist bullets interrupted their prayers lifting 13 of them up to the throne of the Lamb. We who were at the epicenter of this event, and many who shared the pain of this terror, remember the agony.  It was Maundy Thursday like no other. So we remembered Gethsemane. 

I am still trying to make a meaning of this experience. For in remembering the 147 slain, of these the 13 Christian Union students in prayers, and the pain over that past, which we still experience, we hope to embrace our present health terror. I hear M. F. Weiner, who in 1976 wrote an article in the journal Medical Economics entitled “Don’t Waste a Crisis — Your Patient’s or Your Own.” We like Weiner, appreciate that a crisis, medical or otherwise, can improve aspects of personality, mental health, or lifestyle.

We cannot but REMEMBER to EMBRACE.

Canon Omondi

 

As a memorial I  share below  the message I wrote and preached a week after the attacks   for our Christian community at the epi-centre of the terrorists attacks , which continues to this day

 

Remembering Gethsemaneby Rev. Canon Francis Omondi.

On the Maundy Thursday 2-APRIL-2015, Al-Shabaab – a Muslim terror group – woke the morning of Garissa University College with Terror. By 8 pm at the end of the Day of horror, 147 [govt count] people were killed, either shot or slaughtered. The Christian Union group who had gathered for early morning prayers lifted not only their voice in prayers to heaven, but the terrorist’s bullets lifted 13 of them up to the throne of the Lamb. They were brutally killed. The survivors and many of us Christians living in Garissa at the epicenter of terror attacks remembered Gethsemane. 

He went away and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” (Matthew 26:42 ESV).

We may not know, nor can we fully comprehend either the physical or the spiritual pain that Jesus had to endure.  Why would he make such a prayer?  For until this point, Jesus had known fully well what He would face on the cross, and went toward it willingly and resolutely. Both before and after the prayer in the Garden, Jesus knew what His death would entail, and showed complete acceptance of it.  How can we understand His prayer in the Garden for the cup to pass from Him?

 

Mathew [26:36] uses the Greek word parerchomai for pass, which could be translated in a variety of ways. It could speak about ‘coming to completion’, or ‘inability to pass away until it is fulfilled like in Matt 5:18.

But we can benefit from the Ginsburg Hebrew New Testament for insight to allow us to appreciate Jesus’ prayer. Ginsburg, in Matthew 26:39, translated the word ‘pass’ in Hebrew as abar, which means ‘to pass through’. The import of his word choice is visible from the account of the Passover (cf. Exodus 12:12, 23). Here, the Lord “passed over” (Heb. pesach) the houses of the Israelites marked with  blood of the lamb on the doorpost, but he “passed through” (Heb. abar) the houses of the Egyptians without.

This fits perfectly with the Passover imagery. At Passover meal, they would have drunk deeply from four cups of wine. The custom was that when the communion cup came to the place you were reclining; you had to drink from it as deeply as you could, before passing it on to the next person at the table. Often, at the bottom of the cup, there were bitter dregs from the wine. If you were the person to empty the cup, you must drink the bitter dregs, before you “let this cup pass.”

So when Jesus prays, “Let this cup pass from me,” He is not saying, “I don’t want to drink it,” but is rather praying, “Let me drink of it as deeply as much as I can before I pass it on to humanity. Let me empty it. Let me drain it. Let me drink all of it, even the bitter dregs at the bottom of the cup.”

Jesus’ shadow at the garden was cast over us. One can imagine the sweat drops of blood on his people in Garissa University. They now join many other Christians who have followed Christ in his agony.

Philosopher and theologian Søren Kierkegaard rightly observed that, “Present-day Christendom really lives as if the situation were: Christ is the great hero and benefactor who has once and for all secured salvation for us; now we must merely be happy and delighted with the innocent goods of earthly life and leave the rest to Him. But Christ is essentially the exemplar, that is we are to resemble Him, not merely profit from Him.” (The Journals of Søren Kierkegaard). The 13 Christian Union members gathered in prayers resembled him. Many who hid in the wardrobes and under their beds yet in fervent prayers were like him, resigned to God’s will. In our uncertainty, living in this context, we seek to resemble him in his agony of that night, all for our Redemption!

This presents us with a dilemma of distinguishing whether we should perceive this as a religious persecution or a political one. But that they died because of their faith is explained in the way they separated them from their Muslim colleagues, none of whom were killed.

There is some wisdom, though, in David Frankfurter, a College of Arts & Sciences professor and chair of religion, of Boston University. Frankfurter, whose expertise includes the religion-violence nexus, notes that: “One of the problems with discussing religious persecution is that in some religious traditions, persecution and martyrdom lie at the very heart of the stories that organize religious identity itself. We can observe this tradition in Judaism, Shiite Islam, and Christianity, which begins with the martyrdom of an innocent man and continues with innumerable stories of graphic torture and death.”

 

How true that Christians embraced these stories, retold them, and even drew inspiration from them to annihilate perceived aggressors!  Elizabeth Castelli, the Barnard scholar, has shown  that persecution and martyrdom have offered Christians a sense of history, identity, community, and license for action. The great second-century Church father Ignatius of Antioch declared that only in persecution and martyrdom does Christianity become real, and most historians of the religion would say that this sentiment never really went away.

Does not the pressure of persecution on Christians curtail their witness? It is the will of God that all the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God as the water cover the sea.

In his prayers, Jesus says, “Yet not as I will, but as you will.” (Matthew 26:39, 42) He trusted God’s plan, and He knew God’s will would be done. Trusting God doesn’t mean that I will always understand suffering or the reason behind it. But I’ve learned that because Jesus trusted God, my life is forever changed.

F.W. Boreham made a most helpful observation on persecution and the spread of the Gospel in The Candle and the Bird, Boulevards of Paradise, when he noted: “If you extinguish a light, the act is final: you plunge the room into darkness creating no illumination elsewhere….

But if you startle a bird, the gentle creature flies away and sings its lovely song upon some other bough.” He wonderfully points out that death is not the snuffing out of a candle; it is the escape of a bird.

There is a divine element in humankind—an element which no tomb can imprison. And, similarly, there is a divine element in the Church – an element that no persecuting fires can devour.

What a joy to know that that the bird that has forsaken us – the saints slain by the terrorists’ bullets- is singing her lovely song, to somebody else’s rapture, on a distant bough.
Oh, may they sing on until that day dawns for which the Church has ever prayed, and as Boreham eloquently puts it, “when the Holy Dove shall feel equally at home on every shore and the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”

Jesus, as the Lamb of God slain before the foundations of the world, takes on the full brunt of the punishment for sin and terror, allowing His blood to be put on the doorposts of all who believe in Him, so that punishment passes over them.  It is God’s will that we drink from this cup also, lest we forget Gethsemane.

Canon Omondi is a priest of The Anglican Church of Kenya’s All Saints Cathedral diocese.

 

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén