What is our story?

delivered 12 July 2009
by Rev. Dr John Evans

Mark 6:14-29

Diana Bulter Bass

Diana Butler Bass

Last Sunday afternoon I attended a seminar conducted by the US teacher and writer Diana Butler Bass.  She has studied what makes church congregations tick, and particularly why some seem to have more life and vibrancy than others.  To do this she presented some ways, different ways, of understanding ‘being church’.  She said that often it is assumed that congregational vibrancy had something to do with the theological position the congregation holds – was it liberal or conservative, because it was only conservative churches which were growing?  She disputed this, because she saw there were other factors involved.

Was the congregation a conventional or traditional one? Did one had to be ‘born into it’?  Was there one right and proper way of doing things?  Or was the congregation an intentional coming together of people to serve and follow Jesus?  As she said, the latter could involve liberal or conservative Christians, passionate about their faith.

She discerned yet another dimension of contemporary, vibrant churches, or ‘spirited communities,’ as she called them.  This concerned the ability of the congregation to recognise and adapt to the profound cultural shifts going on around us –- in particular, the movement from modernism to post-modernism.

Diana Butler Base did not seek to critique this profound cultural and philosophical shift, but noted that it was swirling around us – especially in the lived experience of Generation X or Y.  She illustrated this change by presenting two lists of significant words and ideas from what we call modernism, and then another list from post-modernism.

For most of the 20th Century, and at least for several hundred years before that, it was thought that there was just one truth out there, and with science and reason, or with faith, you could discern the truth.  You would be either right or wrong . . . and hence the divide between liberals and conservatives could become so passionate.  It was either one thing or the other.  With knowledge you could make all sorts of systems: physical, social, economic, religious; and if they broke, you could fix them.

Architects models of city skyscrapers

Architect's models of city skyscrapers

However, somewhere in the late twentieth century we began to doubt this was all necessarily so – physicists tinkered with relativity, quantum mechanics, chaos theory, parallel universes; science in fact led us to environmental disasters; economics only delivered for the rich; minority and indigenous cultures were over-run; architecture did not have to be the same concrete and glass towers everywhere and so on.

And so the more contemporary, or post-modern words have arisen: journey (and not a quest with a one definable goal), multiplicity, networks, interconnectedness, inclusivity, relationships and stories.  Meaning and personal integrity has become important, and not necessarily possessing the singularity of truth and knowing the one way of doing things.  What Diana Butler Bass found was that churches that recognised these shifts, were coping very well and were thriving.

So, how could this possibly relate to the beheading of John the Baptist?

Well, perhaps not much.  But when, as I usually do, I came to read the readings for the coming week on Monday, what excited or intrigued me was the fact that this story was in the Gospel of Mark in the first place!  Now I have always thought Christianity is terribly post-modern, or perhaps I should say, obviously pre-modern, in that we have in our holy book, not just one account of our leader, but four!  And they are not the all same; they emphasise different perspectives and understanding of Jesus.

Jesus obviously meant different things to different gospel communities.  There thus arose a multiplicity of insights depending on one’s context.  Same Jesus – different ways of understanding him.  And today, with our post-modern way of doing things, this gives a great depth to our understanding of Jesus.  We don’t feel obliged to make sure there was only one story from scripture, harmonise all the differences and iron out all the kinks of the stories, as was the previous approach.

However, back to John the Baptist.  Why is John’s death in the gospel of Mark in the first place?  We can understand why possibly his birth and, certainly, accounts of his ministry are in the gospels.  He was a forerunner.  He pointed to the coming Christ.  He was not the Christ, but pointed to Christ.

But now, why is his death here – and in such great detail? Is this not “the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God”, as Mark begins his gospel? It is not about John or other sundry individuals.  In fact, in Mark’s gospel there are seven verses about John’s significant role as forerunner to Jesus in chapter 1, and then twice that many verses about his death.

In the gospel itself, the intriguing stated reason for this is that the evangelist was providing background to why Herod believed it was not Jesus who was becoming a popular preacher, but rather that somehow John the Baptist — whom he had just executed — had been raised from the dead.  The death of John is thus presented as a flashback.

I want to suggest that John’s story is in the gospel of Mark because it becomes another model, or another story, which the church saw as being important for their identity.  It gave inspiration.  It also gave further understanding of Jesus.  John was not the Christ, but his story is just so similar to that of Jesus.  Here is another ‘Christ story’:

  • Hungarian soprano Alice Guszalewicz in the role of Salome

    Hungarian soprano Alice Guszalewicz in the role of Salome, 1908

    He has a fearless message of justice and fairness. (Jewish law prevented a male from marrying his brother’s widow. Perhaps an odd law – but that is who Herodias was. John said all this to Herod and his wife.)

  • He is arrested by Herod. Jesus is arrested.
  • Herod is seen to be weak, and easily manipulated – he is swept off his feet by the dancing of his step-daughter, Herodias’ daughter, Salome, and makes a rash promise.  Pilate comes out as a weak leader.
  • Herod wishes to keep the peace – very much like Pilate did when confronted by an aggressive party wanting Jesus dead.  Pilate succumbed rather than going with his sense that Jesus was an honourable person.  Herod here appreciated John, but a rash promise was still a promise!
  • His wife, Herodias, like Pilate’s wife (Mt 27:19) had influence over the decision-maker.  Remember Pilate’s wife’s anxiety over a dream she had had about Jesus.
  • A cruel death was exacted.
  • The body is taken and laid in a tomb by disciples – a fact specifically mentioned in the story.
  • And finally there are stories of John being raised from the dead!  But when Herod heard of Jesus’ fame, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.” (Mk 6:14)

A community of Christians, a congregation, is formed around the story of Jesus and their experience of Jesus. So Jesus gives hope, affirms life, inspires them to serve others, or resist evil.

And soon there are other stories that arise from that community.  They too give the community its identity, and explain in significant ways what is important, and how we are to live.  These other stories would be the basis of a transformed life.  Imagine them as campfire stories – our bushies of yesteryear might have told them, or stories of the dreamtime our indigenous brothers and sisters would tell.  John the Baptist, and the story of his cruel and needless death, is one such story.  Indeed it is so significant it appears in the gospel account itself.

As stories go, it has everything: the righteous man, power, sex, strong and weak characters and tragedy.  It has been told in many different ways.  Salome and Herodias are still with us.  Indeed so powerful is this story, a persecuted religious minority from Iraq, the Mandaeans (some of whom are refugees here in Australia) are today followers of John the Baptist, and not of Jesus.

But back to Butler Bass and post-modern, spirited churches.  Among other things, these churches simply have a story, and that story makes them attractive – people wish to be a part of that community.  The community shows integrity – it is true to its founding story.  Indeed, it celebrates many similar stories.

It incorporates people into its unfolding story in that place.  The story continues with people on that same journey.  In time, they become the story themselves.  There are other dimensions of being a spirited community, but living out the story of one’s identity is very significant.

We know this is true for us as individuals.  How often do you catch yourself, especially as you get older, being like someone who has been significant for you?  You find yourself using the words or actions of your parents, or perhaps a teacher or some other hero.  And it is true of human organisations, groups and churches.

During the week, David, Paul and I met about celebrating our 150th anniversary.  We talked about a possible publication; we talked about installing two stained glass windows; we considered special services.  It occurred to me that what we are proposing is to express, in words or in art, the stories of this congregation that still frame who we are, what our values are, and why we, and others, would wish to be a part of what we do here.

In the first instance we are here because the story of Jesus of Nazareth provides inspiration, hope and promise.  Well, it is our take on that story.  “This is something I can be a part of.”  We have however, other stories that are important and formative for us.  They are about concern for our community of Carlton; being a Church of All Nations; being inclusive, open and hospitable – there are real characters and people in these stories that immediately spring to mind.  If we are new here – we have somehow heard that this is a congregation that reaches out to its community and is passionate about justice and hospitality.  So at a practical level, we hope to record all these stories – with your help.

Well back to John and his unfortunate death; here, with the story of Jesus.  John pre-figures Jesus’ own death. John shows how difficult it will be for Jesus – for us.  It is a story which inspires; or gives us a reality-check about this new way of God.  It will be fraught and dangerous.  And it is a part of our story.