delivered 2 August 2009
by Rev. Dr John Evans
2 Samuel 11:26 – 12:13a
Ephesians 4:1-16
'He led captivity captive,' window in St Ebbe's church in Oxford
Our reading from Ephesians grapples with two issues that seem to have plagued the churches forever: the nature of church leadership and the elusive character of Christian unity. In the middle of this discussion, Paul concludes that “each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift” (4:7), which we in the Uniting Church see transformed into that proposition from the Basis of Union that “the one Spirit has endowed the members of his Church with a diversity of gifts, and that there is no gift without its corresponding service.”
Now in support of all of these propositions Paul offers a rather mangled quotation from Psalm 68:
“When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive; he gave gifts to his people”(v8)
This expression, that God “made captivity a captive” caught my eye as being a way of describing how we can understand God’s love to us in Jesus. Our usual words like salvation, redemption, justification, even healing, or as in today’s gospel, Jesus being the ‘bread of life,’ all can become tired, hackneyed, familiar and do not perhaps inspire or challenge. “Captivity made captive”, however, got me thinking.
Of course talking of being a captive had real relevance to Paul. Paul, as he acknowledges in many of his letters, finds himself frequently in gaol. He begins this passage with, “I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord,” and so on. Paul is wanting to say clearly that, although his body might be in captivity, his life is wonderfully free. Even prisoners can understand that there is a depth within their life that touches the very core of their existence and in that life they can be free; can feel fully alive, experience joy because of their faith and hope in God. This was Paul’s experience. There is a whole world of life that can go on in our minds and heart, even though we may be confined to a prison. And this prison may be of someone else’s making (like being a hostage) or it might be a prison of our own bodies – like not being able to walk or move in the way we once could.
Quaker & Anglican Terry Waite returns home in 1991 after nearly 5 years as a hostage in Lebanon
In recent times I think we recall people like Terry Waite, the Archbishop of Canterbury’s peace envoy to Lebanon, who was kidnapped and held captive for 1,736 days in the late 1980s. He survived, unbroken. Captivity, physical captivity was not enough to overwhelm him. His hope and faith sustained him.
However, this is not really what this phrase “captivity itself was made captive” is about. I believe it is saying that God, acting through Christ, addresses our whole lifestyle which may indeed be described as holding us in captivity. Captivity is not just about being locked up or taken hostage – in fact it is far more subtle than that. I would submit we are all held captive to ways of living, unhealthy ways of living, which we have come to regard as normal, and which are basically inimical to or against the will of God. The thing about captivity, understood in this way, is that we do not realize that we are held captive, and so one can never be truly free.
Take this story . . . a possible news item.
Workers in Bangladesh this week were laid off at an electronics components factory in Dhaka’s export processing zone. The company indicated that because of the global financial crisis, their expansion plans for this factory could not proceed and that they would now rely solely on components coming from their Philippines operation. The company assured their Australian customers that they would still be able to access cheap, affordable computers and that their supply of technology to our telco’s would not be affected. Meanwhile, Asseff Mohammed, a worker at the factory would not have any source of income for his wife and four children. In particular he would not be able to afford treatment for his youngest daughter’s suspected cholera.
Typical? In fact so typical, it is not news, and I made it up. But when we hear of food riots in a far-off land, or another rigged election somewhere, whatever, we do not bat an eyelid.
What is happening to us when you compare how David reacted to the story of Nathan, about the man who had a tiny ewe lamb?
David had despicably taken Bathsheba and had her husband, Uriah, killed. Nathan, the prophet, however, chose to challenge David and bring a word of the Lord to him. He did not do this directly. He told his king a story. Now this story was about a rich and a poor man. This poor man just had one sheep. When the rich man needed a sheep, he didn’t take one of his own sheep, and he had many, but rather he took the sheep of the poor man. To this story, David reacted with great vehemence and hostility. David yelled,
“As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing and [perhaps most significantly] had no pity.”
Of course the story at that point reaches its climax with Nathan saying, “You are the man!” And David comes to acknowledge his wrongdoing and say, “ I have sinned against the Lord”.
Is the story that Nathan told, any different from the one I told about Asseff from Bangladesh? Of course the difference is we are “the rich man who has many herds and flocks” — and Asseff from Bangladesh is the poor man with the rather pathetic ewe lamb.
But of course we did not take Asseffs “ewe lamb” like the rich man did in the story . . . or did we? Don’t we benefit, sometimes directly, but certainly indirectly from globalization, and the practices of transnational corporations? Even if we can acknowledge the effects on Asseff and his family are unfair, even in comparison to a person in Australia who loses their job. Do we show “pity” or continue as if nothing has happened? Or is all of this just our way of life?
The word that comes to me to describe our cocooned existence, especially over this issue, and indeed many others, is captivity. We are captive to a way of life, to our own values and priorities, and cannot see our impact on others. Captivity here is a strong word – but I think appropriate. Being captive to a way of thinking and living is not even to think that there is another way, another, possibility. We in the West can be held captive to world in which everything is reduced to money; and we lose our compassion and our pity. We are captive to the idea it’s all about the economy – and nothing else.
Others can be held captive in other ways. I often think of Papua New Guinea where I worked as a volunteer for the church right on the cusp of independence back in the mid-1970s. It was exciting. There was an expectation, a sense of optimism, but there were also seeds of problems and difficulties. Raskol gangs were just emerging, new temporary housing camps were just forming around Port Moresby. What is Moresby now, one of the least liveable cities in the world? What is the captivity of thinking, if people in PNG think that this has to be the way it always will be: brutal, dehumanizing, violent and frightening.
Communities can be held captive to ideas and concepts about race and ideology, even of a certain theology, and assume that is the way, the only way. We ourselves can be held captive to believing we are inferior, or perhaps superior, to others. We are not good enough – I can’t possibly do that. I can’t change, so why bother? Or perhaps we believe a member of the family cannot change – even pity is too good for them.
So what was this quote from the Psalms – when God ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive, about? Well it is really about freedom, freedom we can see in Jesus. Freedom is not being able to do whatever you please –- still caught within your own captivity. That’s hardly freedom. Rather it is freedom from that captivity itself – this is your freedom. Captivity is held captive.
Last week we sang And Can it Be – a grand old Wesley hymn. I have always liked the fourth verse
Long my imprisoned spirit lay
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night:
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray –
I woke; the dungeon flamed with light!
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose went forth, and followed thee.
Captivity and then freedom from captivity; in turn followed by service: the sequence suggested in Ephesians too.
David was held captive to his own power and self-absorption. It took a Nathan to challenge this and bring him to his senses. We in the west are held captive to our own economic ideologies and similarly need a prophet to address us. And this is still a part of the role of the church today — to being prophetic; highlighting and revealing what lies unseen and hidden in the lives of so many people and our institutions; exposing our various captivities.
However, the prophet must also bring hope that that captivity may be overcome and that we receive the gift of a new life, a new humanity and new fullness of life – the bread of life. Nathan highlighted David’s captivity; pronounced judgement on him – there were consequences of his behaviour, but still did assure him of God’s continuing love.
What are our captivities? Are we open to this new humanity that Christ offers? Can we partake of this gift of the bread of life and free ourselves of our captivities?
